A couple of weeks ago, some of my high school friends met up in Bacolod, Philippines for the annual MassKara Festival...
Oh, finished that line of thought last time.
But it does lead me into something that came to mind. Three of my old high school friends met up for the weekend to catch up on old times and to simply enjoy the festivities. Of course they had to make me jealous as I could not be there by giving me a run down of what they were up to, but that was fine. The thing was I was comparing notes with my best friend Paul and he was joking about how little alcohol was consumed. It was mostly a foodfest. When I raised a virtual eyebrow over this fact, he just joked that we were probably getting old.
Looking back, there does seem to be a huge trend with my peers, drinking wise. Growing up, drinking alcohol was pretty much a given in Filipino culture, especially amongst males. Even at a young age we pretty much accepted the smell of booze. My mother to this day refuses to be in the same room as my dad if he decides to drink "tuba" (palm wine). On the other hand, she does agree it makes great vinegar.
Like all teens we decided to sneak a drink in our high school days. I guess it was a bit of a evolution. We used to play basketball and cool down to the odd carbonated drink. Later that would evolve to a bottle or two of beer. Later on days would end with all of us splitting a crate of beer.
My parents had a practical solution to my evolution into early adulthood and subsequent drinking prowess. They would teach me the ins and outs of drinking alcohol, socially. Unfortunately, they forgot to discuss the matter between them. This would lead to my mother introducing me to the intricacies wine drinking and my father on beer and spirits. And they did this separately. Who was I to complain? They were picking up the tab.
My father would put me to the ultimate test. Freshman year, Christmas break, New Years Eve. This would be the first time my dad and I would drink together properly. I was excited, obviously as this was going to be my way of proving my manhood, earn my spot on the grown ups table.
So, amidst the fireworks displays in the sky and the cooked dishes on the table, me and Pa went at it. One crate of Gold Eagle Mucho (I doubt they make this anymore) each , a box of Tanduay Rhum 5 years (Got to love the extra Filipino "h". Guess it makes it more "H"ardcore.) and a bottle of Napoleon brandy.
The rules were simple. Match him drink for drink, but we could eat as much as we wanted. But no one stops until all the alcohol is consumed. We started off pretty well. The beer went down easy, helped by my dad roast chicken and lechon kawali (deep fried pork). I have to admit, Gold Eagle was a pretty light beer, but the volume of a couple of Muchos (500 mls) does catch up. The "Rhum" was a different matter. Back then, they never really put the alcohol volume on the bottles. This wasn't for lack of trying, just that they never really measured it.
It must have been nearly two in the morning by then. The food was pretty much near done, all that was left was the brandy. I decided to kill off the bottle. I got a tall glass, filled it with the remainder of the brandy and topped off the rest with Coke.
I raised the glass, toasted to my father's health...
Then I down the glass.
Straight.
My father cheered.
I put down the glass, beaming triumphantly.
Smiled.
And then promptly passed out.
I woke the next day, opening my eyes to the smell of coffee. My dad was holding it up to my nose.
"So," he asked, "Still want to drink?."
I just groaned my response.
