Biba's Boston: 2 -Esko's House

Biba's Boston: Number 2 -Esko's House

It is absolutely time for my last two entries in the Biba’s Boston series. I’ve been running behind on my own deadlines, trying to keep up with the new thoughts I’ve had around transitioning and education. I certainly couldn’t leave this series unfinished before allowing myself to completely delve into this new chapter of my life, though. And I definitely could not leave out my last two favorite places in Boston, Esko’s House and my old spot in Cambridge.

After the first 3-5 years of life in the United States, my parents moved us out of Queens and followed my uncle’s family and other Filipino families to a suburb of New York City. I spent my childhood in this suburb surrounded by family. While weekdays at school were predominated by Italian American, Irish American kids and teachers, American lunch food like hot open faced turkey sandwiches and fruit cups (wth?!), the English language, and navigating my own American identity, my weekends were full of Tagalog, adobo, Filipino BBQ, white rice, karaoke, Church and ballroom dancing.

Halloween with the Cousins

Cousin Pyramid

New Year's with the Fam

John Mikey and Goy's 8th Grade Graduation

My best friends were my cousins. Whenever I did not know what the hell to do with the foreign behaviors of the white kids around me or felt an inkling of rejection because of my difference, I always had my cousins to go back to. Those girls were my life blood, forreal. They are like my sisters because of the way we were raised. My parents rarely had to worry about what this parent or that parent was saying or doing when we were over because…they were our cousins!Family was and always has been life and it has quietly but powerfully defined the way that I understand and operate in life.

The Girls I Grew Up With

Fast forward to grad school at Boston College. I wasn’t living in a dorm anymore. Many of my closest friends had moved home or to other cities. My blood family was still in New York and my college family was scattered all over the country. That’s where Esko came in. The summer of 2005, I graduated from BC. But before I completely left the undergrad life behind, I participated in one of BC’s many “service trips” held in the spirit of Jesuit education. I had been chosen to go to Salvador in Bahia, Brasil, following the footsteps of my last partner who had gone on the trip the previous year. We would be working at an orphanage called Sementes do Amanha –Seeds of Tomorrow. When I went to the first meeting, who was there, but Eskedar.

The small community of color at BC made it so that we all knew each other. Sometimes this created a lot of “Save the drama for your mama” situations, but it was generally great because we were connected. Esko and I weren’t tight at the time. She had heard of me through one of my close friends and then we had taken a class on the Caribbean together. This was a class with one of the most mono-toned professors in the Black Studies department and was held after lunch hours in the building whose cafeteria was known for its fabulous fried foods. All this, in combination with my poor study habits and late night socializing and revolutionizing made for a great afternoon cat nap (I’m ashamed to say it, I really am.) While I was dozing off somewhere towards the back of the classroom with the other good for nothings, after walking into the class late because I had been finishing my last chicken tender, Eskedar was in the front, chipper as a puppy, taking notes, and participating in the little discussion that there was. I, of course, became known to her as the Filipino girl who would borrow notes because she slept during class.

Meighann, Me, and Esko in Salvador

Suffice it to say, I was happy to see my generous note taker at the first meeting. We had a great time in Brasil. Those trips make you love or hate people in a way and at a rate that you can’t get when you’re a roommate, friend, or acquaintance during the academic year. That was the start of our lifelong friendship, I guess. After that, I’d visit her during her senior year at BC while I was in grad school and the year after that I’d visit her as an RA while she was in grad school at BC and I was doing my first year of teaching.

It was during that first of year teaching that my partner and I broke up after three years of some serious dating. She, along with some of my other friends were there for me in a way that saved my life. While we didn’t talk about the situation too often since she didn’t really know my partner, she was there for me and our friendship grew. In all honestly, I can’t say exactly when our friendship turned into sisterhood…maybe she can tell you, but I honestly don’t remember. It was probably all those nights she forced me to sleepover at her dorm because she didn’t want to be alone in the O’Connell House and she had air conditioning in her room and she had a meal plan I could mooch off of. What can I say? I’m a shameful opportunist. Haha.

Me and Esko in Roatan, Honduras

That summer after she graduated, instead of sleeping over at her dorm, I started staying over at her house. And the summer after she taught in Honduras, I was again, always at the house. It was during those summers that I finally really spent time with her family. At first, her extended family smiled politely and asked about me in Amharic at family parties. Soon, I was there so often, her aunt wondered if we were dating. Technically, no, but we joked that we were since we were always together.

Esko and Mulu

Esko and Hailu

Mulu and Hailu at Costco

I became a regular –there for dinner, cleaning up after meals, grocery shopping, carrying groceries in from the car, showering in the mornings. Hailu and Mulu, her parents, became staples in my life. We didn’t talk too much, but we were always there. We’d sit and watch tv (my favorite is when Hailu turned to the Journey concert because of Arnel Pineda, the new Pinoy singer and made me watch it by myself or when we'd watch the Celtics games and Hailu would call Rondo "she") or I’d listen to and smile at their conversations in Amharic while Betti or Esko translated for me. Abush, her brother newly arrived from ET came to check out apartments with us when I was moving out of Brighton. My life wasn’t complete without teasing from her younger brother Abraham and I would call her older sister, Betti for advice.

Big Sisters in the House

Hanging with the Cousins

In the past year, while Esko has been living in Boston, I’ve grown even closer to them. Mulu was there listening when Rodley died. She gives me a look when she thinks I’m being silly.Hailu smiles in greeting when I get there. I come over without Esko being there just to say hi or bye if I’m leaving Boston.

My First Abesha Wedding

Foster Mom in Boston

The Womens

With the Aunties

It was there, in that Ethiopian household, a culture and family, completely different from my own that I found family in Boston. Their family, like mine revolved around the community.Their weekends were spent with one another with food, in prayer, in sorrow, and in celebration and Esko’s house was the center for much of those activities. And there I was, the random Filipino girl that was always tagging along behind Esko. They welcomed me into their home and made space for me in their lives and I will be forever grateful for the way that they filled that space I was missing while I was living in Boston. They became my family and they always will be.

My NY and Boston Fam!

Peripatetic

Peripatetic (adj):

2a: of, relating to, or given to walking

b: moving or traveling from place to place

What a life I'm living!!

How many miles have I driven this week?!

Probably my forreal last day in Boston today. I drove through JP, Dorchester, Roxbury, and Back Bay today.

Leigh was right. I had to leave to love it.

My drive was sweet, full of memories, joy, and gratitude for the place and the people that helped me grow to today.

As I drove through my old city, these classic Mary J. Blige lyrics popped into my head and played on repeat:

"All those pretty memories

I know you can hear me now.

For the record,

I love you, I love you."

Biba's Boston: 3 -Tita Gigi's Ranch

Number 3: Tita Gigi’s Ranch

For the longest time, I never thought I’d enjoy the country life. I swore up and down that I was meant for the city, though most of my life was spent in the suburbs. But spending time in Rochester, Mass. with my aunt and uncle on their pseudo-ranch has been a huge blessing and may have even opened me up to the country life a lil bit...a lil bit, I said.

Tita Gigi's house in the winter

My aunt and uncle are the epitome of City Slickers living the country life now. They’ve travelled to cities all over the world as architects specializing in aquarium design -spent a lot of time in Italy and Portugal. They used to own an apartment in one of the brownstones in the Back Bay, right on Comm. Ave. As urbanites, they dressed in sleek, streamlined clothes always in shades of black or grey. Their apartment in the Back Bay was that version of upscale, authentic minimalism that one hopes to achieve through purchases at the Pottery Barn, Crate & Barrel, or Restoration Hardware.

Tita Gi in the Back Bay with her old dog, Baci

Tita Gigi always loved animals and nature, though. Amongst the few pieces of Italian or Portuguese décor in the apartment there would always be a real bird's nest, some twigs and branches, a dog leash or some other horse or dog paraphernalia thrown in there from her pets. We tease her that her horses, dogs, and cat are our cousins.

Tita Gi with Sonny Boy (left) and Iabony (right)

Carlos and Juni with Mona

With Iabony

A few years back, she and Tito Michael decided to buy an old farmhouse in Rochester, MA. It’s super beautiful and super old, was around during the 1700’s and has so much history to it. They have a few acres of land that now hold two areas for their horses Iabony and Sonny Boy.There’s a beautiful pond behind their house and they live next door to a huge cranberry bog.They’ve made the house both simple and beautiful. It reminds me a little of Leigh’s Haven, only bigger.

At the farm in 2006, Laloo and Tita Nita visiting from the Philippines and Georgia

Mom, Tita Sandy, and Tito Sherm lounging

If you read about Leigh’s Deck in my last entry, you know that her place cultivates love and family. That’s why I love Tita Gi’s place so, so much. In the past few years, I’ve spent time with my aunt and uncle and the rest of our extended family on their “farm.” Mom has six living sisters and Tita Gi always says that the house is good to bring together the family. It’s torturous for Tito Michael –all gajillion of us there at once, but he’s such a good sport, as long as we don’t force him to be in photos, which we do anyway.

The Stateside sisters

I have memories of huge meals with my aunts, uncles, and younger cousins (I’m the oldest of the Castro clan’s grandchildren and have seen these moments longer than any of our generation). We cook and buy food for days and just hang out -playing badminton, going out in the canoe, skyping Laloo or Tito Boy in the Philippines, or Tito Al, Jenny, and Ingrid in Sweden; playing with the horses or dogs (not so much the cat since he does wonders on our allergies), playing Cranium for hours, looking at old pictures, or just talking about life and our family.

Ben and Carlos playing badminton

Our Davaoenos visiting from the Philippines

It’s been in this space that I’ve been able to learn and appreciate my mother’s family with a depth I haven’t known anywhere else. Like I said, Mom came from a cast of seven sisters and while all of the living sisters are extremely educated, have dope families, and are living pretty comfortable lives, they didn’t always have it easy. Tita Tootsie died of leukemia at the age of 7, leaving the family at 6 sisters. Lolo Frank died two years later when the girls were super young. The oldest was 13 and the youngest, barely 1.

Mom's family before Lolo died. Mom is all the way to the left.

Laloo ended up having to struggle hard to raise six girls on her own. In spite of the challenges of raising six girls, in the Philippines, in the 50’s, Laloo, once a beauty queen, was able to send them to some of the best schools in Manila by becoming a seamstress and eventually running her own business. But those material comforts didn’t come without some gaps. There was life without a father, a lot of affection that wasn’t expressed, a culture of tough love, lots of pressure to be the best, lots of time with a mother stressed from work, finances, and loss. But there was also family support, time in the province at their Lolo’s farm, lots of titos, titas, and pinsan.

Castro family reunion, 1965

Castro family reunion, 1966

It’s been there at the farm where I’ve heard so much of what life was like for my mother, her sisters, and my Lola. I have developed a deep respect for my mother’s family, an incredible understanding of family dynamics and Filipino history, a deep love for my family, and an undying confidence in the women around me. Each of the women in my mother's family has a story that I've learned from. In some of my most difficult moments, they've been there with advice, or have just been there -no words, but maybe some key lime pie. I don’t think I can truly express how much these times at Tita Gi’s farm have meant to me, especially not at 3:15 in the morning!

No, country girl I may not be, but I’m a family woman for life and Tita Gi’s is a place where I’ve learned what that means and how to live it.

July 4, 2010

Here are some HILARIOUS videos from HappySlip that totally remind me of my family:

Pahntee:

Peephole:

Biba's Boston: 4 -Leigh's Deck

Number 4: Leigh’s Deck

Disclaimer: This is NOT an advertisement for Leigh’s deck. I am not trying to increase traffic at Leigh’s spot!

Nine years in Boston and it only took one summer for me to fall in love with Leigh’s porch. Almost everything Leigh touches turns to gold, and the same is true for her deck. Leigh treats her home with a precision and touch that is simple, natural, and beautiful. There is meaning and love in every corner and I was lucky to have experienced that even for a short time. This is why so many of us women folk have started to refer to Leigh’s spot as The Haven. It’s a safe, sacred space.

The wood may be a little splintery, but the deck has so much spirit to it. It’s homey and welcoming –from the plants that Leigh has cultivated to life –especially the pepper and tomato plants, her green Adirondack chair that was lovingly stripped and repainted, the cushions, the candles, and the monster grille are all parts of what makes Leigh’s deck, Leigh’s deck.

It’s a wonderful place to be alone. If it’s sunbathing with an iced coffee or some water, or a starlit night to reflect upon, it’s a deck that let me be alone. On the third floor, I would sit close to the boughs of branches, listening and hearing their rustle while life went on below me. It’s like a tree house for grown ups. I would read in the sun up there, nap, and think. This summer has been full of lots of brain and spirit movement for me and Leigh’s deck was the place to do that thinking about the past, now, and future.

While it’s a great place to be alone, it was/is also a perfect place for family. Leigh, the wasps, and I have enjoyed some nice lunches and dinners on the deck together, basking in the sun, good food, and good drink. In my short time there, we’ve had gatherings that have brought beautiful people together and it’s the love with which Leigh inhabits the Haven that welcomes us all when we’re together.

I’ll be forever grateful for all those moments on the deck and how those moments brought me closer to that higher ground I’m looking for.

Biba's Boston: 5 -Mass. Ave. Bridge

Number 5: Mass Ave Bridge

Earlier this year, I wrote an entry about Mass Ave Bridge. This was by far, absolutely one of my favorite places in Boston. I remember walking across the bridge into the Back Bay and just enjoying the beautiful view of the water and of Boston.

I love the bridge for so many reasons. A great thing about living in Cambridge and in the Boston area in general is that it’s near water. Having island ancestry makes water crucial to my existence, which also explains my Houghton Pond entry. Being able to simply watch the water from the bridge is peace in and of itself for me.

I also have an affinity for bridges because they connect people, places, and things. I consider myself a bridge in so many aspects of my life –too many to actually describe here because then it would get too deep. It’s just a blog entry. Lol.

Esko and I driving across Mass. Ave. Bridge (we were in traffic, mind you!)

Walk that bridge someday, any day, everyday if you can. It’s a beauty.

Biba's Boston: 6 -Super 88

Number 6: Super 88

My first time at Super 88 in Brighton was with my big brother Esteban. I must have been a freshman in college when he told me about a wonderful beverage called bubble tea. We took the B line down to Packard’s corner and I was hooked forever after that day.

The Super 88 in Brighton is different from the other ones in the Boston area. This is the only Super 88 with a cafeteria serving different types of Asian food. Some of the vendors have come and gone, but the ones I always stuck with and who are still there are the Lollicup, Viet Pho, the Indian vendor, as well as the Korean vendors. All super yummy! The Empty Fridge has a great review of Super 88!

Lollicup serves milk tea, slushes, and ices. Sometimes I’d grab a passion fruit or mango slush with boba, but my fallback was and always will be a regular Royal Milk Tea. This is probably the reason why I gained a million pounds senior year, but now I temper my boba intake. Hehe.

My absolute favorite food vendor there, though was Pho Viet's. The family that owns the restaurant is great. They make the BEST Goi Cuon, which are the Vietnamese summer rolls that are highly YUM. I also used to be addicted to their Lemongrass Chicken and vermicelli and their lemongrass porkchop. I’m actually not a huge fan of their pho, sorry to say. They are a sweet family, though, and I’m going to miss them so much.

The Indian place was always good for some chicken tikka masala, saag paneer, and naan. The chicken chilli naan was a meal unto itself! Lastly, the Korean spots there are where I first learned about Bibimbop, bulgogi, and pajun. I’ll never forget them for that gift of a lifetime. Lol!

And of course, if you go to the back of Super 88, you have the Asian grocery, which is now known as the Hong Kong grocery or something like that. I used to get my fish from there all the time and of course, they have the Asian snacks that you can’t get anywhere else.

If you’re ever in the BU/Brighton area, you need to go. Long live Super 88. I’ll miss that place dearly. Sigh.

Biba's Boston: 7 -Redline

Number 7: Redline

Our absolute favorite night time spot in the Cambridge area. Maybe I should just say it was mine and admit that I coerced each and every one of my friends to make Redline our spot? Guilty, hehe!

Redline, 2007. THROWBACK!! Our version of trying in 2007. lol.

We’re a chill group of young folks in my crew. We don’t like lines, dressing up to the nines, paying $15 for a drink, or sunglasses in the club. Our ideal spot is a casual lounge that plays good music, has space to dance it out, has inexpensive drinks, and is a nice space for brown folks. (Somebody is sooo reading this and being like, "Speak for yourself, Biba!")

We started out going there on Fridays when DJ KC Hallett, a sweet, smiley, intuitive dj would be playing a great mix of deep house, dancehall, and hip hop (KC now dj's other spots and events in Boston in case you're interested, and you should be!). On Fridays, we would leave sweating (remember that, Oli?)! Occasionally, we would drop in on Saturdays when the more conventional Top 40 was on, but Fridays were our nights. We’d always try to stake out the brown folks either in the very front of the room where the dj booth was, or at the very back to get some air from the vents. If there was space, we’d venture to the middle of the bar, against the partition (just giving you ideas in case you decide to go!).

After going there a while, some of the staff began to recognize us as regulars. Bryant and Claudell are some of the best bouncers in Cambridge and the bartenders are sweethearts. I can always count on them for a tasty mint gimlet (sorry folks, no mojitos –go to Middlesex for a good mojito) and some water to rehydrate. Of course, it doesn’t hurt that I’m a cheerful female customer.

Redline has changed on Fridays. We don’t have the same fabulous KC as before. Now Fridays are disappointing compared to when KC was there, but Saturdays have gotten better with the new dj who plays dancehall and hiphop the majority of the time. No matter what happens, I always know I have a place to go dance it up whenever I’m back in Boston! I guess it's like my version of Cheers, but not everybody knows my name...uhhh, nevermind.

Getting Lost Where I Belong

Morton St.

Woodman St.

Another rainy day in Boston. Parting from one another is harder than I thought it would be. I haven't updated my Top 15 as I thought I would, mostly because I have been living my last days in Boston as opposed to prematurely remembering my last days in Boston.

Here are some pictures from my last few days in Boston:

Last dinner at the Haven

Candlelit dinner at Jo's

At AFH's Closing Ceremony

Beebs and Breezy at Jo's

Goodbye Party at Jo's

Redline with the ladies

I-Hop with Debaters + Myesha+ Mushri

Dinner with the Dejenes

Crepes with Marian

With Billbo

Tapas with the Girls

Off this!!

I thought I knew that God wanted me somewhere else, but the past few weeks with friends, family, and love made me question my decision to leave. Today, though, I knew I had to leave. While I have the most amazing, beautiful family in Boston, I realized that there's nothing left for me here. The realization hit me with clarity as I drove down Morton St. in the pouring rain. I'm meant for something else right now. The road is ahead of me. I may not know where I'm going, but at least I'm "Lost Where I Belong."

Lost Where I Belong

Staring

At an empty page again

Searching

Deep within my soul

Sometimes

I don't know where to begin.

When there's

Nothing left to hold.

So I will sing you a song

That I know that I can

Lead on

Cuz I'm lost where I belong

Where I belong.

Drifting

Around this empty place

Again

Hoping to feel hope.

Hearing

Nothing but the world...

Silence

Is louder than before.

So I will sing you a song

That I know that I can lead on

Cuz I am lost where I belong

Where I belong.

I can't give you

What I don't have to give.

Am I going somewhere?

Still I try to believe

So I will sing you a song

That I know that I can lean on