I love my mother tongue which is Kapampangan. It was the language that we spoke in our household and still is when I speak with my siblings, aunts and uncles, and some cousins from both sides of the family. Although ours is what the Pampangueños describe as bastardized because you won’t hear any of the deep old form that OGs from Pampanga speak, nonetheless, I love it and I thought of a way to honor it.

Since my old man passed on nearly two years ago, the old ancestral house is deteriorating fast. It’s no longer a matter of what but when -take it down. Sadly. So sadly. My sibs and our children expressed the same sentiments when I shared the news from our eldest kuya, Boy (Leonido) who took charge of the maintenance. But before that happens, I intend to take pics and vids of the property and write a coffee book about it. In Kapampangan!

I have a volume of memories to write about. So does everyone else. From the time Fred and I were decorating the walls with fresh feces to the time when the second gens loitered about naked.

I will need help in writing because Kapampangan spelling is a major challenge. I’d like the book to be faithful to the real deal. May the Good Lord bless this plan before all the memories get permanently erased from our rotting brains. I raise this cup to this.

Cheers! #MyCafeNotes