4 MIN READ

By IVAN EMIL LABAYNE
www.nordis.net

More in the sense of “late” than “last,” although sure, the latter can work too. Hindi nga lang on time, but a belated realization, an on-second-thought accommodation. In Tagalog, sige na nga, halika na, sama ka na, payag na ‘ko.

*** *** ***

In The Restless Dead, Cristina Rivera Garza not only claims for the “everyness” of the second language, but also illustrates its situational workings, and metaphorizes it. “Strictly speaking, of course, every language is a second language. Strictly speaking, the language that embraces and envelops us in the womb is already a stepmother tongue. … The Second Language means you are there with me, out in the open, exposed to the elements. … It’s the one that talks with an odd accent and asks tough questions. [Mom, what is the Tagalog of penis?] … The one that showed up late, which is what allows it to announce that there may be more to come.”

An idea: paghuhugasin ng pinggan hindi lang mga walang pambayad na kumain sa labas, kundi pati mga na-late sa dinner party ng magkakaibigan, magkakapamilya.

*** *** ***

My holiday hangover consists of dreaming about washing the dishes. Not nearly an exaggeration, but I tend to love doing it, washing the dishes. Let’s clean up after a party. Someone takes care of the floor. Someone throws the trash. Let me look after the dishes and wash them. December saw gazillion parties: pizzas, leftovers, payday glut, lechon, garden salad, vegan arroz caldo. All good times: the festiveness and the karaoke and the families and friends sharing food and awkward silences, awaiting the baby that will be the center of the attention, so that everyone will have something to do other than checking their phones: Ayyy ang cute cute naman ni Bokchoy! *some more baby talk* *sings some baby song* A-choo-choo-choo A-gooy-gooy. *more baby talk*

The dishes clatter—or the paper plates become hills of trash, littered with lovely leftovers—and I cannot help but look at the sink. Some people turn to the babies to avoid eye contact at parties; I think of the dishes. 

*** *** ***

Finally—sa wakas!—a second film with a “dishwashing” scene that I can reference alongside the one I’ve been parking in my head since the holidays: Blue is the Warmest Color, now joined by My Favourite Cake.

In the former, Emma threw a party for her art-world friends and introduced Adele to them—a “hard launch” of her partner, which probably means this is not just a bacchanalian, flirtatious fling? Because now Emma is introducing her younger Lit student girlfriend to her much older, much more “serious,” much more “accomplished” peers. But a Chaplin film played in the background, with black-and-white characters dancing, while Adele and a male partner danced in the foreground. Here and there, Adele glances at Emma, who’s sharing laughs with Lise. She dances distractedly, and in the background, the Chaplin black-and-white characters look even drabber and drearier. Argh, when will this party end?

A few scenes later, Adele is shown to have just finished washing and drying the dishes. The party has ended, and so too has the washing of dishes. A camera pans to reveal gazillion pots and pans and glasses and plates, and we know Adele has just washed all of them before joining Emma on the bed. 

I think they embraced but did not kiss, did not make love but hugged. The coldness was not cool, but at least the dishes were taken care of.

*** *** ***

The first half of My Favourite Cake is mostly about Mahin’s lonely life in Tehran. There is the occasional kind thing to say, an exaggeration, for she said in the movie they see one another only once a year—visit and hang out with friends, but most of the time, her life is about walking Tehran’s streets, lining up for the communal breads, and doing the groceries. Before meeting Faramarz, Mahin was shown washing the dishes, her back turned against us—for what is there to see?—the film proud of the inconsequentiality of this shot. She will soon meet Faramarz, and they will have a lovely dance, but I will not get into that. Mahin washing the dishes has already been mentioned.

While Adele does the dishes presumably for her love, Mahin does hers unknowingly, anticipating an almost lover. She has to keep the glasses tidy, for Faramarz and her will share an ironically tasty cup of wine later. I resist playing spoilers, so let me stop talking about Mahin and Faramarz here. The dishes are taken care of at last, let me unleash my Tagalog.

*** *** ***

Kung hindi “Tungo sa Pagiging Huli,” ganito dapat ang pamagat ng kolum na ito—nung nakaparke pa lang ito sa isip ko noong Enero, pinakamahabang buwan matapos ang hangover ng parang mahabang last week ng December: “Bago sumulong, mag-urong.” Laro lang yang “mag-urong” sa tawag din ng mga Tagalog sa Central Luzon sa “maghugas [ng pinggan].” Na kesyo bago salubungin ang Bagong Taon—late yarn siya?—kailangang mag-urong, maghugas ng pinggan. Matapos ang chibugan, kailangang harapin ang mga hugasan. Bago gumawa ng mga makahulugang talak tungkol sa bagong buhay at bagong ako, sana hindi makalimutan ang mga pinagkainan at ang lababo. 

O, baryasyon, at pagsasaFilipino ng isang content/meme na binahagi ni Shaunnah ng Magpies sa presentation niya para sa PUÓN Institute this year: ang daming gustong maging bahagi ng collective, pero walang gustong maghugas ng pinggan.

Nahuli na naman ako ng dating, pero hindi ako magpapapigil dumaldal tungkol dito, sa dinaluhang Institute sa San Fernando noong ikalawang linggo ng Enero. Dito muna ito titigil, sa susunod na linggo na ang karugtong. Maghuhugas muna ako ng pinggan, err… mag-uurong muna me.#nordis.net