AN EARNEST PARABLE

Merlinda Bobis
Albay/ Australia

As it was his turn that day to lose his tongue, he had for breakfast, the creamiest latik, a dish of sticky rice
in coconut milk, served with a large, ripe mango. Then he sang two serenades about love and volcanoes in the
Philippines. He was making the most of his chance for taste and speech, because, an hour later, his Sri Lankan
neighbor would be at the door, awaiting her turn. Already, she would be dreaming of pappadums and hor curries,
not quite as spicy as her dialect, which would melt on the much-awaited tongue. Their communal tongue.
Bessel Street’s most prestigious possession. Last week, it lodged with the Italian butcher who earlier had
picked it up from the Australian couple. The butcher was not one to waste time. Immediately, he laid this soft, pink
flesh moist with the previous owner’s steak and peppercorns, inside his mouth. Then, he ran to the mirror with his
wife and three daughters and bagan savouring his first words after weeks of silence: “bellisima, bellisima!” The
whole family marveled at how, like a pink animal, the tongue rolled its tip to the roof of the mouth in an intimate
curl—“bellllllll-isima...” Then they passed the tongue around, taking turns to relish old, native sounds, after which
they doned on home-made pasta in a piquant marinara sauce.
The residents of Bessel Street were kin in tongue. The pink flesh toured up and down that street, went
into homes, into mouths of different origins. There was the baker from Turkey, the Filipino cook, the Australian
couple with the fish shop, the Italian butcher and the Sri Lankan tailor.
One tongue for five homes. Not really an inconvenient arrangement, mind you. Of course, when the
tongue was accommodated elsewhere, one could not eat with the usual joys of the palate. But the pleasure of the
ear was enough compensation. Every tongue-owner’s soundings, especially those that were as foreign noises,
seemed to orchestrate in everyone else’s middle ear into something intimate and comforting. This was inevitable
for, muted at different times, they learned how to listen intently to whoever had the chance for speech or song—
and how they spoke and sang and even told stories, usually with brief words of beauty and kindness. The moment
of speech was too dear to be wasted on loose, heartless talk. It was a shame not to do justice to the little, pink
animal in the mouth.
Thus, everyone spoke, ate, listened with care and passion, and shared various languages and delicacies.
Last week, for instance, the word “bella” found its way into a Turkish ditty whose refrain would later inspire the
new name of the Australian fish shop, which supplied mussels for the butcher’s marinara that sneaked into the
Filipino chef’s kitchen, where it was blessed—Dios mabalos!—as an afterthought, with a dollop of coconut cream
and some red chillies, well, to give it teeth, the Sri Lankan reckoned before the dish was resurrected among the
pides of the Turkish baker.
Indeed, on their respective days of owning the tongue, each of the neighbors could not help but echo the
mouth of the previous owner. The Italian family eventually developed a taste for the occasional cardamon tea, the
Filipino adventurously spread some Vegemite on his pan de sal and, at one time, the Australian couple stirred fish
heads into their soup sour. Meanwhile, the Sri Lankan began hosting summer feats by the Barbie, and the Turkish
baker even serenaded his wife with songs about love and volcanoes as he prepared a tray of almond biscotti for
the oven.
You see, the tongue had an excellent memory. Even when it had moved to a new mouth, it still evoked
the breath of spices, sweets and syllables of the former host. It was never known to forget anything, least of all the
fact that it was once soft pink flesh of a South Coast mollusk; it yielded itself to a higher good one winter night
when the ocean was formidably wild. The six households understood this origin in their mouths. The tongue was
the gift of the landscape. The pides and gulad jamuns, the daily bonjournos and even the highly spiced takable tang
of Australian surf and grit—and truly, like surf, after this home truth was dramatised on TV’s latest culinary show,
the heart of one viewing nation swelled and swelled with pride.
Lesson 11: RETHINKING THE TOWER OF BABEL

Respond critically to the following questions and worksheets to process the selection.

1. The tongue is said to be the most “prized possession” of Bessel Street. List down three characters
mentioned in the story and how they value tongue.

2. Why is the tongue referred to as a piece of “pink flesh” or an “animal?” What is being implied by
describing the tongue that way?

3. List down three things the tongue has done to the community as a whole.

4. In what sense was the tongue “a gift of the landscape?” Why characterize the tongue that way?

5. What made the television viewers “(swell) with pride” when they learned about the people on Bessel
Street?