My wife and I continued this beloved practice of my culture with my son. When I first held him in my arms when he was two days old, I whispered in his ears his pet name Badodoy. It felt really good. We made it a rule in our home in Vienna that our son from his infancy would call his mother “Nanay” and me, “Tatay,” names that felt closest to our hearts. They remind us of our grandmothers and grandfathers who were saop (land tenant) probinsyanos. We did not consider “Papa/Mama“ or “Daddy/Mommy“ suitable for our status; they are alien words.
I embarked on a series of German Language courses, met nice Viennese fellows and forged long-lasting friendships, engorged books inside Vienna's public library, discovered the scenic routes via tram and railways, retracted the Sound of Music film locations, saw for the first time the majestic Alps, explored the local Viennese coffeehouses, and indulged in different Austrian wine reading methods.
Right after the first week of November, houses are fully illuminated with playful lights. (Indeed Pinoy Pasko is the longest in the world!) Hoisted up zigzagging the main alleys of Puerto Princesa especially are the colorful buntings signaling the city into the annual fiesta mode. Pista na Pasko pa! - the city slogan during my late teen years - was what my Cebuano boyhood pal referred to as Pis-kot na! (In english - Pest time !).
