Last Wednesday, Irish, my cousin, asked me to eat isaw with her in Sampaloc Lake. I said yes in a heartbeat since I’ve been craving for that forbidden delicacy for more than a month now. My boyfriend reminds me always (every time I will tell him that we should eat isaw which is pretty often) that it’s bad for the body. I KNOW. But I’ve also told my friends (who told me to stop eating street food) that I’d rather die young enjoying the little things in life (like isaw) than die old but avoiding everything that will make me happy. Sometimes, I also do not understand myself. Heh.
Isaw is absolutely delicious when dipped in vinegar with lots of sili and sibuyas. But it’s taste isn’t the only thing I enjoy when eating it. Somehow, I feel very Pinoy when I eat my dugo and bituka ng baboy/manok. I also like how it’s very inexpensive and I can eat more than ten sticks of isaw without feeling sorry for my wallet. What I like the most about eating isaw is that I don’t have to pretend to be anyone or act demure or whatever when eating isaw. I don’t know.
Eating isaw is kind of humbling for me. Like when we passed at this one isawahan near a private school in Manila, I was glad to see that even the posh and pretty people of this country like eating isaw. I mean, there’s really nothing glamorous about eating intestines. Ha.
I don’t make sense, do I?
oh yeah, just looking at this makes me hungry
I enjoyed our little isaw date. There’s still only few things you can do in Sampaloc Lake but I can say that a lot of people are actually going there just to eat isaw. I swear. Maybe because it’s quite near the “city,” and there’s not a lot of place in San Pablo where you can hang out. Haha. I forgot to take a picture of the lake though.
I wish Sampaloc Lake’s like this back when I was still studying in San Pablo. It would have been awesome if my friends and I could eat isaw after biking around the lake. I wished it looked more like a park five years ago.
I don’t know when I’ll be back. In a month’s time (hopefully not more), I’ll be packing my bags to live someplace else. I’ll be moving on and leaving behind the “province” I greatly complained about. But this place will always be home. And unlike many people, I like where I came from. I love that I am a probinsyana. I believe that it balances my attitude towards tradition and development. You don’t really have to bury the past in order to embrace the future. Just because you’re talking like the people from the city doesn’t make you any better or less than anyone.
I don’t understand it when some people move to the city and seem to suddenly hate everything about the mountains and trees. Yes, everybody loves the city life. I can actually see myself falling in love with the hustle and bustle and the noise and the crowd. But there’s no point in dissing what you’ve left behind. There are still some people who enjoy the little things in like free rambutan from the neighbor’s backyard.