Housework

Sunday mornings (the last one was no exception) are reserved for sleeping in and having a leisurely breakfast. But once the coffee kicks in, my hubby and I usually get started on our household chores. It’s our designated “time-to-do-our- week’s-worth-of-household-chores-in-three-hours”. Between the two of us, we typically do our laundry, clean the rooms, change the sheets and towels, get some gardening done, vacuum the rugs, and store the dishes, cups, pots, utensils - everything used during the week that’s still loaded in the dishwasher. It’s a time to clean the bathrooms, mop the kitchen floors, sweep the front porch and backyard patio, take out the newspapers and the trash, and dust the living room and family room shelves. All the fun stuff.

My first year in the States was actually quite a learning experience when it came to housework. I had to learn how to do most of the things that I now take for granted. Back then, I honestly did not know how to do laundry. My first few weeks at Berkeley had me using pants that had shrunk in the wash, white shirts streaked with shades of pink (as a result of mixed color laundry loads), and colored shirts with streaks of white (as a result of using bleach). My culinary skills were also quite lacking and I survived on the essential 5 "C's" of nutrition (cold cuts, cereals, canned goods, coffee, and Cheetos). I sprayed Lysol in the bathroom, kitchen, and every nook and cranny of our apartment and considered myself done with cleaning. I tried to do my share of vacuuming but it really never occurred to me to empty the vacuum cleaner bag and so I guess for a while I was just dragging dust bunnies around the room. I had to buy hangers for EVERY piece of clothing I owned (sweat pants and pajamas included) since hanging them up while they were still warm from the dryer saved me from having to learn how to iron clothes or fold them properly. The list of my pitiful housekeeping attempts was endless.

Luckily I had a wonderful roommate who didn’t mind showing me the ropes and picking up where I sadly left off. And then when I moved to Los Angeles and had to live alone, my hubby (then my fiancé) and (my future) SILs would stop by and help me through some of the basics and it was awesome that they lived close enough for me to stop by once in a while for home-cooked meals. Of course, countless long distance phone calls to my mom, (who would walk me through how to marinate porkchops or teach me the best way to remove food stains from a shirt), helped get me through my latest crisis until she and my older sister could come for a visit (a.k.a. general cleaning).

In all honesty, my lack of domestic ability was not a case of my being too lazy to do housework – (and least not in most cases!). It’s just that I didn’t know any better, since I pretty much grew up without really having to bother with that back home. First of all, I had a mom who was an incredible homemaker and second, we were very fortunate to always have maids, drivers, gardeners and yayas (nannies) to do things for us. I would be picked up from work, taken home where I’d have my dinner ready, my room and bathroom would be pristine, clean sheets and towels in place, my laundry would be done and folded neatly in my closet, my shoes would be shined, my lunch for the next day would be prepared for me to bring to work. I know in many ways I’ve taken all that for granted. So sad but so true.

These days, I know I’m still not the world’s greatest housekeeper and my home (as charming as it is!) may qualify but probably not win any cleanliness awards, I can now cook a decent meal but still have a pretty long shot at winning any cooking contests, and while I pride myself on being an accommodating host, it is unlikely that I will be featured in Good Housekeeping as the next Martha Stewart any time soon. But I can honestly (and proudly) claim that I’m much, much better with housework and that I’ve come to really appreciate the time I spend doing things for myself. And, while I cannot deny that I am grateful and occasionally miss our helpers (Manong Danilo, Manong Reto, Jun, Manang Mercy, Mary Jane, Dora and Rosita), I do cherish my newfound independence and the sense of accomplishment I feel when praised for my domesticated endeavors.

My parents sent me to the States with the hope that I would receive a better academic education. And while that did happen, my 5-year stay here has taught me so much more than what I gained in school. I’ve learned more about myself and more importantly what I can do for myself. In retrospect, I’ve certainly learned more in the last 5 years here compared to my first 25 in Manila.

And as I said earlier, I am in no position to brag about my being a homemaker extraordinaire. But I will brag about what my mom said during her last visit. She praised me on my well-kept home, my good cooking, my entertaining skills, and my ability to manage and organize a household – and coming from her, THE ultimate homemaker extraordinaire herself, it is more than enough praise and assurance for me to know that I have indeed come a long way – and am on the right track.