DAVAO CITY: Christmas is that time of the year when there’s just too much food around and too much to eat from Christmas parties in many offices and homes in the city.
While we’re all trying to fill our stomachs with too much lechon, too much spaghetti, too much ham, too much pasta, too much fruit salad, too much beer, too much pancit, etc, etc during these ‘Xmas parties”—people who survived Typhoon Yolanda, Bohol earthquake and the Zamboanga standoff are still looking for food to eat, even just a mouthful of rice, a pinch of salt, a scrap of dried fish to pass the day.
Some people who ate and drunk too much after attending “Xmas parties” even died, yes DIED quietly, without being reported in the news because dying from eating too much to the media, it seems, is not worth a story to report about.
Because, you see, guys who eat too much and die, all die happy.
This story was whispered to me by a radio man who said that his friend ate too much durian at lunchtime, just days before Christmas day, in a gathering by some guys in broadcast, washing down tons of durian with beer, before turning up again in a big
“Xmas party” dinner with his family clan who threw a big party at a beach.
In the second party, this guy just ate too much lechon manok, too much calderetang kambing, too much lechon baboy, too much rice, too much keso de bola, too much pizza pies, too much fruit salad, etc, etc and washed them all down with rhum and coke.
Then, suddenly, the guy collapsed and died in the middle of the party. He died of heart attack from too much food. He was only 34.
I know of a young doctor, only about 28 years old, who was also invited to several Christmas parties, along with a birthday party of his father and doctors’ party at the hospital where he worked, who ended up so exhausted and tired from party-hopping that he fell asleep in his clinic and never woke up. This young doctor died from “pancreas failure” as far as I can remember.
Just think—if the Red Cross or some kind of religious group could just gather “food donations” from all the parties during this Christmas season, pack them carefully so they won’t spoil, and fly them on C-130’s to Tacloban and spread all these Christmas food preparations in barangay halls for poor villagers, all Yolanda survivors, to eat all these lechon, pasta, pizzas, keso de bola, kalderetang kambing, fruit salad, etc, etc.
Just think, we’ll eat less during “Xmas parties” and sharing all the food, we let all the hungry, poor people of this country eat more during Christmas.
This is one of the reasons why I’m not so keen about attending “Xmas parties” set up by offices, by friends, by organizations, by relatives, by families, where cold beer and hard liquor flow like the Davao River during a flash flood. I’ve actually reached a point where I avoid these parties like the plague without telling anybody why.
These are parties where mouth-watering roasted pig, roasted chickens and even roasted beef steal your attention away from other equally delicious food, a gourmet fit for kings, during a party held to celebrate the birthday of our Saviour—without knowing why He came, in the first place.
Without sounding like a killjoy and without sounding ridiculous, I don’t think Christmas is that one day in a year we all look forward to—to get dead drunk and to eat too much.
Are we missing the point of Christmas?