Falling Mangoes
Life in the Philippines
Unlike other parts of the world that have four distinct seasons, the changing of seasons in the Philippines is hard to detect. It’s subtle, and you have to train your eye to see them. At first, the foreigner might only observe one year long season—hot, sweaty and oppressive. But slowly, for the diligent spectator, seasons do surface. Currently, we are towards the end of the hot dry season.
Locally, the summer months are March to May. These months have the least amount of rainfall, almost nothing. Without rain clouds, the constant cloud-covered sky rolls away, and steady clear blue skies push down the humidity, from 90% to a more bearable 70%. Without the buffer of rain clouds, temperatures climb from the low 80’s to the mid 90’s. This distinct hot dry season promotes fruit and blossom budding. These months are vividly garnished with ripe mangoes, golden shower blossoms, and fire tree blossoms.
The Philippine mango is legendary and a source of pride for the archipelago. Mango season coincides with the summer months. Mangoes are so abundant in the Philippines during this time, that so many of them go to waste. Filipinos are a very resourceful people group, so acknowledging numerous mangoes go to waste each summer reflects on the bountiful harvest, not on Filipino character.
The Philippine mango tree is large, making it difficult to completely harvest all of the mangoes. Bang! Bang! Mangoes pummel tin roofs, creating a distinct cadence reminding you it's summertime. Tumble and roll! Mangoes somersault down roofs and plummet to the earth, littering the yard and street. The golden prize is now mingling with debris and refuse.
Instead of lamenting the mangoes you cannot rescue, rejoice in ones you devour. The locals will use a sigpao, a long bamboo pole tipped with a net and blade, to aid in the removal of ready to eat mangoes. During the summer months, adults and kids alike roam the neighborhood with a sigpao on the hunt for delicious mangoes.
The preschool years are bright and fleeting. Tomorrow marks the end of Sam’s preschool years. He’s changing seasons from preschool to elementary. Like the mango refuse rotting on the street, it's easy to come to the end of these precious years and look back and say, “oh wow, look at all of the missed opportunities.” But just as it is impossible to save every mango on the tree, it is impossible to pursue every opportunity. Naturally, some will be missed. With the next season of Sam’s life just around the corner, I want to pause and savor all of the delicious mangoes of his preschool years.
Sometimes the perfect mango will dangle on a low branch, making it easy to notice, remove and enjoy. This was true for Sam’s preschool years. We didn’t plan to send him to preschool. It was a last minute idea. As a decade long veteran to homeschooling, it was assumed that he too would be homeschooled. But then at age three he presented with speech delay—mimicking the path his older brother took. Coming to the end of my strength, and not wanting to repeat a difficult trial, I looked for another path outside myself that might help Sam.
A missionary started up a local preschool over 10 years ago, on the campus of her husband’s ministry. It’s on a secluded Bible campus, well maintained and peaceful, with a space designated for the preschool class. The teacher pours her heart into each child. She has created a beautiful space to foster childlike growth and learning. It’s play-based with plenty of books, toys, paint and crayons to foster wonder. The yard is set up to encourage each kid’s gross motor skills to develop alongside budding friendships.
Bang! The mango hits the tin roof and somersaults down. When I initially inquired, there was no room at the preschool. But then, at the last minute when I least expected it, a golden vine ripe mango dangled in front of me at eye level. Someone dropped out, and there was now a spot for Sam! We quickly enrolled him with only a couple weeks to spare before the start of school.
For two years now, Sam has attended this preschool. Sometimes blessings are hidden and unassuming. The preschool has no outside signage and no online presence. Just the ministry efforts of one mom to another. The route from my home to the preschool is only 10-15 minutes. If you weren’t looking for it, one would never know it was there. Leaving my gated neighborhood I drive through town. After passing the intersection leading to a large mall, I drive just a bit further.
Turning left on an unmarked side road, landmarked with a roadside burger stand, the city starts to fall away and the province begins to sprout up in its place. The road narrows as each property maxes out its land to the very edge, building walls that literally line the road. The shoulder of the road no longer exists and one must be an alert and defensive driver in these deeper roads. Just a bit further, when you think you are sure you are lost, it is time to turn left one more time. You didn’t think it was possible but the road constricts even more. This last stretch is not really designed for cars, but rather pedestrians, motorcycles and trikes. Two cars cannot pass on the road at the same time without each pulling in their side view mirrors first.
Look up, the walls are falling away and through the leaves of the trees one can see rolling hills of tropical greenery in the distance. You’ve made it to the large, unmarked gate. A guard is stationed there and waiting to welcome you. The bible campus is shaded with trees, and the manicured gardens are an oasis.
It’s time for me to pick up Sam from preschool for the last time. I park under the mango tree and close my door one more time. Carefully stepping over the rotting mangoes on the ground, I am tempted to reminisce about all of the fallen mangoes. But instead, I lift my gaze toward the painted blue iron fence that marks the edge of the preschool yard, and I remember my appetite is full and satiated.
My Captured Mangoes:
Increased speech when marking his days by his friends.
“Ian Day, Paul Day, JJ Day, James Day!”
Three Little Pigs becomes a favorite story.
Retelling fairytales with stuffed animals.
Racing carpool friends.
Singing nursery songs in the car
Jumping like frogs from the large boulders in the yard.
Driving with the windows down.
Hanging out the windows vigorously waving goodbye, with full lungs and whole arm movements to each one of his friends.
Thank you, Teacher Teri!