Saging is For Loving

The Philippines, as is the case with many other tropical nations, abounds with many different fruits of all shapes and sizes. They have pineapples, papayas, watermelon, rambutan, lanzones, jackfruit, and many others. Among their plethora of fruits is the Saging, or banana. Now, before arriving here, I was under the erroneous assumption that there was but 1 type of Banana, but now I realize what a fallacy that was. Being the ever abundant fruit that it is here, a banana is regarded as a pretty paltry commodity, and usually costs around a peso apiece. They grow everywhere, and you can make out their big, flat leaves along any roadside. The leaves are used as a picnic blanket when you eat out in the forest, and many times, during an unexpected downpour, you'll see many people walking around without an umbrella, but instead shielded from the weather by one of the gigantic leaves. Bananas have big, beautiful red blossoms that grow in the center of the short trees. Many times we'll go to the canteen to have lunch, and the 'Bukad nga Saging' or blossom of the banana will be cooked in a spinach-type concoction, and served with coconut milk. Some bananas are hard, harvested while still unripe, and are boiled, and eaten like a boiled potato. Some of those are sweet, and some are just plain hard, and if you're like me, you'll find yourself at many a Filipino gathering, eyes wide and watering, forcing yet another boiled banana down, wondering how some little tribesman ever stumbled upon this crappy food. There are also the small bananas, about 5 inches long and very sweet called 'kadulce' or 'candy-like' by the locals. They're really very good and I go through them pretty quick. They draw ants pretty quickly though, so when you are offered these in a person's home for snack, you'll notice that these little treats are often sprinkled with little specks of protein. The other main variety of banana's here are the big ones, much like those that you would find at the supermarket at home. They cost 2 pesos (4¢) apiece, are seasonal, and are generally better than any of the bananas that you would get at home. Often when I stoop under the awning of a little tiny Sari Sari store to get a banana, I'm reminded of my granddad and how he'd always be on the lookout for deals on bananas. I'm reminded of how he'd always have to get a few pounds of bananas when they were on a 30¢-per-pound sale. Well Granddad, eat your heart out.

Bananas, like the coconut, are cherished here, and are a part of the culture. Coconut trees are called 'kahoy nga lubi' or 'Tree of Life,' and their byproducts, the coconut wine, the shells of the fruit, the coconut meat, even the fibers of the outer shell are all integral parts of the livelihood here. In much the same way, the leaves, fruit, and blossoms of banana trees are crucial to people here and how they live. An old lady was telling me about how detrimental it is for unwed partners to sleep in the same room and said that it would lead to all the Banana trees being cut down. Honestly, I don't know what she was talking about, but she was making a connection, I thought, between an immoral situation and the grief she would feel if all of the bananas were removed from her home. Sex and giving life is not taboo at all here as it is in the states, so even the most devout old men and women at fiestas will hold a banana up, smile really big, and say "Saging is for loving," phallic innuendo intended.