We Filipino Are Mild Drinkers

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We Filipinos are Mild Drinkers Alejandro R. Roces We Filipinos are mild drinkers. We drink for only three good reasons. We drink when we are very happy. We drink when we are very sad. And we drink for any other reason. When the Americans recaptured the Philippines, they built an air base a few miles from our barrio. Yankee soldiers became a very common sight. I met a lot of GIs and made many friends. I could not pronounce their names. I could not tell them apart. All Americans looked alike to me. They all looked white. One afternoon I was plowing our rice field with our carabao named Datu. I was barefooted and stripped to the waist. My pants, that were made from abaca fibers and woven on homemade looms, were rolled up to my knees. My bolo was at my side. An American soldier was walking on the highway. When he saw me, he headed towards me. I stopped plowing and waited for him. I noticed he was carrying a half-pint bottle of whiskey. Whiskey bottles seemed part of the American uniform. “Hello, my little brown brother,” he said patting me on the head. “Hello, Joe,” I answered. All Americans are called Joe in the Philippines. “Any bars in this town?” he asked. That was usually the first question American soldiers asked when they visited our barrio. “I am sorry, Joe,” I replied. “There are no bars in this barrio.” “Oh, hell! You know where I could buy more whiskey?” “No, Joe. I am sorry. We do not drink whiskey.” “Here, have a swig. You have been working too hard,” be. said, offering me his half-filled bottle. “No, thank you, Joe,” I said. “We Filipinos are mild drinkers.” “Well, don’t you drink at all?” “Yes, Joe, I drink, but not whiskey.” “What the hell do you drink?” “I drink lambanog.” “Jungle juice, eh?” “I guess that is what the GI’s call it.” “You know where I could buy some?” “I have some you can have, but I do not think you will like it.”

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