By Hyacinth Empinado
As a certified millennial, I’m obsessed with plants. I have over 50 plants scattered all around my home, not to mention the few cuttings I’m helicopter-parenting. But I’ve only acquired my first Filipino plant a few months ago — a calamansi tree. My friend gave it to me as a housewarming present after years of hearing me fawn over it every time we visited the local garden center.
This little tree has gotten me thinking about the plants we had back in Cebu and my mom’s garden in Florida. Growing up, I’d catch snippets of my mom talking to my aunt about how to propagate a certain plant or what fertilizer to use. Now as an adult living in the US, I find myself having the same conversation with my mom and sister. Even though we live hundreds of miles away from each other — my mom and sister live in Florida, while I live in Massachusetts — sharing tips and plant updates has drawn us closer.
My lemonsito (calamansi) tree
Kamunggay is life
Our garden in Cebu was filled with flowering shrubs, fruit trees, wandering vines that nourished delicious tubers like ube and yams, and of course, kamunggay (malunggay in Tagalog). Kamunggay is a staple tree in many Cebuano homes because it’s used to make Utan Bisaya, a healthy and comforting vegetable soup that’s tinged slightly green by the kamunggay leaves.
Now that we’ve moved to the United States, my mom has turned acquiring Filipino plants into somewhat of a sport. When we first got to Florida, she had to get her hands on kamunggay, so she can make utan. I remember going into the yards of neighborhood Filipinos (with their permission) and plucking so many fronds that I’m surprised that the tree still had any leaves after we finished.
Lemonsito (calamansi) from my mom’s garden.
More than a decade later, my mom not only has acquired her own kamunggay, but has grown her Filipino plant collection so much that her Florida garden looks like it’s been imported from the Philippines. It’s home to lemonsito (calamansi), tangad (lemongrass), agbati (spinach), ube, camote (sweet potato), papaya and so much more, not to mention all the other more “trendy” plants like fiddleleaf figs that are as tall as her ceiling. She recently texted me a photo of sigarilyas from her garden. All I know about this vegetable is that it’s mentioned in the popular folk song “Bahay Kubo,” which is totally #goals. It goes something like this:
Bahay kubo, (Nipa hut)
Kahit munti, (Even though it’s small)
Ang halaman doon,
Ay sari-sari, (It’s surrounded by a variety of plants.)
Singkamas at talong, (Jicama and eggplant)
Sigarilyas at mani… (Sigarilyas and nuts)
(It goes on and on naming other vegetables. And for those of you who are wondering, no, ube is not mentioned.)
My mom’s sigarilyas.
Building my bahay kubo
My mom’s Florida house feels like our Cebu home, not just because she and my sister are there, but also because being surrounded by the plants we had in Cebu takes me back to my figurative roots.
My mom is now helping me build my own plant collection. When I visit my family in Florida for Christmas, she packs baon for me to take on the plane. Now, on top of ham, rolls of embutido (Filipino-style meatloaf) or leftover lechon, I get several plant babies, which she lovingly detaches and/or prunes from her own plants and wraps in paper towels and cling wrap. Sometimes she packs it in colorful tissue paper for a festive touch. The rest of the year, we constantly text each other with plant updates and Facetime to see how our plants are doing.
I haven’t asked her for kamunggay yet, but now I’m thinking that I should to make my indoor garden more like my Cebuano home. In the meantime, I’m taking care of my little calamansi and hoping that it somehow survives the winter and bears fruit next year. If anyone knows about how to take care of kamunggay or calamansi trees in MA, hit me up!