Memoirs of an Amnesiac

Who would ever forget mom's all-time remedy for coughs? Whether hard or soft cough, stubborn cough that comes with a Shrek-induced crescendo voice wafting through a closed room on an examination day, with the teacher staring angrily at you ready to devour you anytime for causing such uncalled-for sound, the kalamansi (local term for Calamondin, with the scientific name,citrus microcarpa or its common name, Chinese orange) has always been relied on. One could either slice about four to five pieces of the fruit (depending on the severity of the cough) and squeeze the juice into a glass with a little sugar, ready to be drank by the almost-out-of-breath patient. The more unpopular way of using it as a remedy would be to roast a piece and squeeze the still hot or lukewarm juice into one's mouth and add salt (probably to taste). This, my mother avers, is more effective as compared to the the diluted juice inside the glass.

Kalamansi's relatives from the citrus family: orange, dalandan, ponkan, kiat kiat, sunkissed, lemon, (and others that I have no idea about) are all considered to be rich in vitamin C. They're great liquid varieties to quench one's thirst especially when served cold. The taste of which borders on the tangy and sometimes sour to very sour.

Small wonder that kalamansi has been used as an allegory (well, not exactly the word) for anything that one encounters as difficult to hurdle, or embark -- a strict boss, difficult teacher, problems that reach a cul-de-sac, (and others again that I have no knowledge about). We've all heard about the aphorism, "When life throws you lemons, make some lemonade." I wanted to be a bit closer to our local variety thus I'm changing lemonade to kalamansi (besides the latter is cheaper than the former). I don't know to whom we can attribute such an aphorism. I can only infer that he is some guy who loves to make lemonades (or probably does it as a living).

There is a rather quirky way by which people connect the abstract to the concrete, the illogical to the logical. Even when we say that life is difficult, surely the taste of a lemon could not even come close to the taste of difficulty or hardship that one experiences. I was wondering, why didn't they use ampalaya (Its English translation, bitter gourd, could have been a perfect name substitute.)? I assume it is a form of euphemism--a way to delimit the magnitude of difficulty by naming it in is lesser form.

Anyway, it's not so much the name as the real message behind the aphorism that counts, is it? Just how do you deal with difficulties? Are you the type who succumbs to its woes until it devours you completely? Or are you the type who fights back, squares your shoulders and looks at DIFFICULTY with those FPJ eyes (about to deliver his, "Isang bala ka lang!" lines) as if to say that no amount of difficulty or its kind could shake the strength of character you have inside?

Difficulties are, I should say, the most natural thing in life.When one is born, he is already 'equipped' with difficulty. I dare say it doesn't happen just overnight. You know, this strength that you proudly claim. It comes with cowardice--the knowledge that you are totally weak, then detachment from it. You don't just recognize difficulty as something fearful. You don't just stop there. You look for ways to deal with it. That's when you are totally able to let go of it.

And that's when you take each hurdle as a walk in the park, one problem after another. Until you have become a master of the difficulty, you would find yourself craving for more. I've met people who actually look for difficulties in life, maybe to find their sense of purpose or just to put in more thrill to whatever blandness they're experiencing.

So when life throws you kalamansi, don't forget to make kalamansi juice!

Make it four glasses.