As a youngster growing up in the province, folks didn’t have easy access to pharmacies or dispensaries to fill medical prescriptions – least of all, over the counter drugs like aspirin, allergy pills or even vitamin supplements. To my knowledge, the closest pharmacy was in San Fernando city, about 78 kilometers away.
There were public buses for such distances. Of course the well-to-do had their jeeps and cars – some families with their own chauffeurs even, but the peasants either hoofed it, or took the bus. We were members of the peasantry.
At my grandfather’s house where we stayed, I’d hear my spinster aunts talk about their migraine headaches they suffered from mostly during their monthly cycles. “Here comes this damned headache again. My head’s splitting. Is there any aspirin left in the house?” my aunt Bertha would ask.
“Nope. I think Carlina took the last tablet last month,” replied my aunt Lourdes.
“Then why in God’s name didn’t she say something?” my aunt Bertha bellowed with palpable agitation. “We could have picked some up while we were in Vigan. She always does this!” She hissed.
Aunt Laure (pronounced Lah-Ore), who helped with my aunts’ blanket weaving home business walked in. “What’s all the noise?” she queried.
“Ah… Bertha’s having a migraine, and she’s looking for some aspirin. Carlina used the last of it last month… without telling anyone so we could have refilled it. So Bertha sounds frustrated,” my aunt Lourdes explained.
Aunt Laure said, “Not a problem. Haven’t you ever heard of the natural way of curing migraines?”
My aunt Lourdes gave aunt Laure a skeptical look. It was the stink eye – really. I’ve seen my aunt Lourdes give this same kind of look when dealing with the fishermen who manned the family’s fishing boat and nets during negotiations about the volume of the catch.
“Well? Speak, O Wise One of the Ages. I’m all ears.” Her tone sounded sarcastic.
My grandfather’s backyard was literally a banana plantation. There were at least 20, mature, healthy and fruit-bearing banana trees thriving. I know this because I used to trap young, unemployed spiders that lived in the banana trees for the school campus spider-fights. We always had bananas in the house in all stages of greenness and ripeness.
Aunt Laure took a green banana fruit from a bunch lying by the sink. With a paring knife she cut crosswise a couple of slices (about 3/16th’s of an inch thick). She called out to aunt Bertha. Aunt Laure pasted the green banana slices one unto each temple.
With the green banana slices stuck to her temples, Aunt Bertha went back to her weaving loom and worked the entire rest of the afternoon. We didn’t hear any complaints about her migraine headache.
(Photos courtesy of BING images)