Salamat sa Tabo

My neighbours who watched me wash my car with a pail of water and a plastic dipper probably learned how to do so in the good old fashioned way. Where there’s no garden hose or a pressure washer or $$ for a car wash, there’s always a plastic tabo for one’s convenience. Imagine a tabo of water for hand washing before dinner, a second for after dinner, a third for dishwashing, a fourth for a sponge bath, a fifth for number two in the bathroom, and so on, where there’s no running water? A tabo in every corner for every purpose, and not a drop of water wasted!

Yes, we conserved precious water with our tabo on my grandparents’ farm eons ago where the ever reliable family carabao would pull a bamboo cart with containers filled with spring water fetched by grandpa from the foot of the mountain hours away. Whenever he came home, leading the carabao by the reins, little me would run to meet him with a tin cup, eager to get a taste of that cool and sweet spring water, especially on hot summer days. It would be later at age five in the city of Manila where I would learn about sweeter drinks such as Coke, Pepsi, and Sunkist orange juice in classic tetra packs, but nothing compared to spring water kept cool in an earthenware jar. No need for a fridge. No need for electricity. But there was a need for tabo as if every bit of water was measured and used well. 

Thank you for the classic tabo used in the river while doing laundry in far-flung villages, used in the bathroom where there’s no shower, used in the garden where there’s no hose, used anywhere and everywhere in every way. Thank you for human ingenuity. What used to be made of wood, bamboo or coconut shell, now made of not-so-friendly plastic, has been our friend, companion and ally, especially when the world is shaken by the turbulence brought about by human follies. MLJ/25/03/2022