It was smooth sailing until our kids started school. Then suddenly, speaking Tagalog went out of favor. Everyone else spoke English ALL the time, why not us too?
It was nap time. The baby had been fed and read to, and it was time for the lullaby, sung to the tune of Brahm’s lullaby:
Tulog na, tulog na, Sa kandungan ni Nanay.
Kalaro mong anghel, Sa iyo nagbabantay.
Tulog na, tulog na, Mahal kong anak.
Tulog na, tulog na, Bunso ko, tulog na.
The words conjure up cozy memories of leisurely school-free mornings spent in pajamas, watching the snowflakes drift down and the snowbanks go up, perhaps with a mug of hot chocolate in hand, eventually venturing outside dressed like astronauts to romp in the snow.
Of such childhood memories, I have none.
We were crazy enough to attend the Lunar New Year festival yesterday at the Met in New York City.
It was nerve-wracking, trying to catch glimpses of performances and art pieces as we maneuvered our way through the swarm of fellow Asians filling the halls of the vast museum. And all this with kids in tow.
But it was well worth it, experiencing with other young families the beauty and history contained within such awe-inspiring traditions and art, some of which were thousands of years old! It was worth a chance encounter as well.