Easter’s eggsciting!
April 20, 2003 | 12:00am
I remember my first Easter egg hunt.
In Ormoc where I grew up, we observed all the Holy Week customs like visiting seven churches and making the stations of the cross but it was only in Cebu, in my maternal grandmother’s home, that my sister and I and some of our other cousins joined our first Easter egg hunt.
Our Lola Carmen (who has since passed away) with Tito Gabby, Tita Liclic, Tito Rico and Tita Monette are all fun-loving people and would join in the games we played – be they hide-and-seek, Simon Says or even playing harmless pranks on our unassuming househelp. They were the ones who got us started on this Easter activity.
As early as the Monday of Holy Week we would start coloring the hard-boiled eggs. Today there are egg-blowers that can puncture the yolk of an egg and carefully expel its contents, back then we were grateful that the weight of the hard-boiled eggs made handling them with our small fingers easier.
I remember that we would spend Holy Monday happily coloring away as many eggs as we possibly could in as many ways as our imaginations allowed us to. We didn’t use decorative techniques such as marbleizing, sponging, or gold-leafing that seem to be quite popular now. We were content with our own crude designs of flowers, faces, and shapes that in hindsight seem downright personal and charming. I only wish that we had taken pictures of the eggs we decorated to remind us of those days.
Anyway, we wouldn’t see the decorated eggs again until Easter Sunday when right after mass, we would excitedly venture out into the garden where we knew the eggs were hidden. Armed with baskets, we would comb the lawn, peek through crevices, dip our hands into the shallowest part of the swimming pool, part bushes, shake flowerbeds, or look up at trees where, more often than not, the green-colored eggs would be cleverly hidden.
All throughout the hunt, our uncles and aunts would be with us, helping us by giving us clues – or when no one else was looking – coaching us as to where more eggs might be hidden. But, more than the prizes we would get from Lola Carmen for all the eggs we collected, we cherished and enjoyed the process of preparing and decorating the eggs and of course, finding them in the hunt.
Our hunt would always be capped off by a hearty lunch. Aside from being a fun-loving people, my relatives from my mother’s side of the family also have hearty appetites so mealtimes for us was almost as much fun as the games we so enjoyed playing. Whatever the occasion in Lola’s home lechon na baboy and chicken salad were a given. Sometimes the former would be replaced by pork barbecue and kinagumkum na baboy (deep-fried crispy pork) that Manoy Pael, my Lola’s male cook was with her for as long as I can remember and has since retired, would expertly prepare. The chicken salad of Tita Liclic is so good it might as well be patented. Nobody makes it the way she does. It’s always a hit in parties and guests always want to take some of it home. Even when she’s in town visiting me and she prepares her salad, compliments and requests for her recipe abound.
Earlier this week, Juliana, Richard and I started painting eggs. This will be Juliana’s first Easter-egg hunting experience. I think Juliana’s excited but I’m sure I’m more excited than her. I cannot wait to see the wonder in her eyes with each decorated egg she will uncover. It will be a time of discovery and wonder for her, and perhaps a time for reminiscing for Richard and me who, like myTito Gabby, Tita Liclic, Tito Rico and Tita Monette, will only be too happy to watch from the side. I’m reminded that these simple but heartfelt gestures were as important to me then as they are now for Juliana and will be in the future. I may not have pictures of the time I went Easter egg hunting in my Lola’s house but I keep the happy memories within me.
This time around though, I will make sure that I am armed with a camera so that I can record, for Juliana to see in the future, how traditions that we practice like Easter egg hunting make us appreciate the beauty of life and the gift of family and friends.
In Ormoc where I grew up, we observed all the Holy Week customs like visiting seven churches and making the stations of the cross but it was only in Cebu, in my maternal grandmother’s home, that my sister and I and some of our other cousins joined our first Easter egg hunt.
Our Lola Carmen (who has since passed away) with Tito Gabby, Tita Liclic, Tito Rico and Tita Monette are all fun-loving people and would join in the games we played – be they hide-and-seek, Simon Says or even playing harmless pranks on our unassuming househelp. They were the ones who got us started on this Easter activity.
As early as the Monday of Holy Week we would start coloring the hard-boiled eggs. Today there are egg-blowers that can puncture the yolk of an egg and carefully expel its contents, back then we were grateful that the weight of the hard-boiled eggs made handling them with our small fingers easier.
I remember that we would spend Holy Monday happily coloring away as many eggs as we possibly could in as many ways as our imaginations allowed us to. We didn’t use decorative techniques such as marbleizing, sponging, or gold-leafing that seem to be quite popular now. We were content with our own crude designs of flowers, faces, and shapes that in hindsight seem downright personal and charming. I only wish that we had taken pictures of the eggs we decorated to remind us of those days.
Anyway, we wouldn’t see the decorated eggs again until Easter Sunday when right after mass, we would excitedly venture out into the garden where we knew the eggs were hidden. Armed with baskets, we would comb the lawn, peek through crevices, dip our hands into the shallowest part of the swimming pool, part bushes, shake flowerbeds, or look up at trees where, more often than not, the green-colored eggs would be cleverly hidden.
All throughout the hunt, our uncles and aunts would be with us, helping us by giving us clues – or when no one else was looking – coaching us as to where more eggs might be hidden. But, more than the prizes we would get from Lola Carmen for all the eggs we collected, we cherished and enjoyed the process of preparing and decorating the eggs and of course, finding them in the hunt.
Our hunt would always be capped off by a hearty lunch. Aside from being a fun-loving people, my relatives from my mother’s side of the family also have hearty appetites so mealtimes for us was almost as much fun as the games we so enjoyed playing. Whatever the occasion in Lola’s home lechon na baboy and chicken salad were a given. Sometimes the former would be replaced by pork barbecue and kinagumkum na baboy (deep-fried crispy pork) that Manoy Pael, my Lola’s male cook was with her for as long as I can remember and has since retired, would expertly prepare. The chicken salad of Tita Liclic is so good it might as well be patented. Nobody makes it the way she does. It’s always a hit in parties and guests always want to take some of it home. Even when she’s in town visiting me and she prepares her salad, compliments and requests for her recipe abound.
Earlier this week, Juliana, Richard and I started painting eggs. This will be Juliana’s first Easter-egg hunting experience. I think Juliana’s excited but I’m sure I’m more excited than her. I cannot wait to see the wonder in her eyes with each decorated egg she will uncover. It will be a time of discovery and wonder for her, and perhaps a time for reminiscing for Richard and me who, like myTito Gabby, Tita Liclic, Tito Rico and Tita Monette, will only be too happy to watch from the side. I’m reminded that these simple but heartfelt gestures were as important to me then as they are now for Juliana and will be in the future. I may not have pictures of the time I went Easter egg hunting in my Lola’s house but I keep the happy memories within me.
This time around though, I will make sure that I am armed with a camera so that I can record, for Juliana to see in the future, how traditions that we practice like Easter egg hunting make us appreciate the beauty of life and the gift of family and friends.
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