May 12, 2019. Mothers’ Day. This morning, at mass, Fr. Chris told us that aside from God, we will only feel real, unconditional love from one other person, and that is not our love partner, but our mother. He urged each of us to thank our mother and let her feel our love, while she is here.
I am fortunate to have my mother, Pilar or Dada as we fondly call her, still with us. White-haired, a little bent, much weaker, a bit forgetful, but still as beautiful as ever, Dada is now 84. She’s been through the toughest of times, having been widowed at 32 with five young children to bring up in a foreign land.
A no-nonsense, practical woman, she converted our house in the university belt to a boarding house, woke up each day at dawn to go to market, cook for her family and her boarders, get us ready for school, bring us lunch every day, tutor us when we got home, attend our school events, and love us unconditionally. She never remarried, and instead concentrated on taking care of us. And when we had all grown up, finished schooling, started working, fallen in love, gotten married and started having kids, she took it upon herself to take care of her grandchildren. Her love for us is boundless, limitless.
She was very strict, and there was a phase when we were very young that we got spanked almost every day for being naughty. Spanking stopped when my father died, and my mom had to work really hard to take care of us. I could see that life was difficult, but mom never complained. I vowed to finish my studies right away so I could take care of her and the family. I was hard-headed, strong-willed and impetuous, and must have given my mom quite a few headaches over the years, as did all of us children.
Drawing on my own experiences as a mother, I began to reflect on what it must have been for her as a young mother, far from her native Spain.
I wonder if she felt the same kind of excited ‘want to shout this news to the world,’ yet partly apprehensive love that springs forth when first she learned she was expecting me or my siblings. Did she worry too, when her body began to change? When she felt that first kick and realized that there’s this other person growing within, did she wonder what lay ahead? Did she also wonder what her children will be like? What kind of persons they will become? And if her children will love her too?
Did she, like me, feel that awesome love that takes root in a mother’s heart that precious moment when first we see our child, carry her in our arms and realize that life will never be the same? That this little person will always come first, and that our lives will be intertwined forever?
Did she feel that tender, nurturing love when we cradle the baby in our arms and croon her to sleep? The ‘grit your teeth, bite your lips’ dogged kind of love that lets her suckle, even when your nipples bleed, or carry her for hours even when your back aches.
Did she, like me, have that fierce, determined drive to protect our children from harm, and to discipline and guide them to develop the values they need to survive. Did it break her heart too each time her children cried from scruffed knees, doctor’s visits, failed quizzes, childhood scrapes, and later from the disappointments of break-ups or misunderstandings?
Did she feel proud when her children garnered honors at school, or acted in a play, or won a school competition? Did she too have that gut-wrenching feeling of seeing her children grieve over their father’s death, and of not knowing how to kiss this kind of pain away? How did she manage to pick up the shattered pieces and patch everything back so that her children will feel secure? How was she able to console her grieving children, when she couldn’t even breathe from pain herself?
Did she too experience the same hurt, when my once adoring children, now teenagers, begin to question me or worse rebel, and I feel them slipping away to become their own person, making their own decisions and living life apart from me?
Did she revel when she realized, like I do now, that the babies I once cradled in my arms, are now full-grown men and women? That these children can now stand on their own. Live. Laugh. Love. That they in many, many ways are a better me. And that somehow along the way, I must have done something good for them to turn out so well.
As I watched my children in the kitchen cook a special Mother’s Day lunch for Dada and me, I whispered a prayer of thanks to the Lord for blessing me with the inestimable joys of motherhood and for allowing me a taste of heaven here on earth.
Thank you, Dada, for bringing me into this world, and for loving me the same way Abuela loved you, with the same kind of unconditional love that makes women soldier on no matter what, through all the pains and heartaches of motherhood. Indeed, we carry our mother and our mother’s mother, and all the mothers before us, in our heart. As will our daughters do, some day.
October 31, 2018, Alabang. Yesterday afternoon’s TAkot 2018 was a riot!
Every last Wednesday of the month, TeamAsia celebrates Pop Up, a beloved employee engagement activity where everyone stops work to get together for a few hours of fun, fellowship and camaraderie. It is also a time when birthday celebrants are greeted, and friends break bread (though it was barbecue, noodles and doughnuts yesterday). New employees are welcomed, but first, they have to either perform a talent or butt-spell their name, a hilarious exercise that has everyone cheering them on.
The most awaited of these monthly Pop Ups is Halloween. This time around, we moved Pop Up to Tuesday as many of our employees will be traveling to the provinces today to celebrate Undas, the Filipinos’ way of honoring their dead by visiting the cemeteries and coming together as families to pray and remember loved ones that have gone ahead.
Happily Never After was this year’s theme for TAkot. A twist on musicals that end happily and make everyone believe life is dandy, the theme had everyone thinking creatively of a different and unexpected ending for Halloween. One where you witness something terrifying and unnerving, and you are lucky enough to escape and tell the tale.
Five departments competed in the quest: Creatives with The Lion King, Digital/IT and Web with Moana, Marketing and Accounts with The Wizard of Oz, Experience with Trolls, and Content with The Little Mermaid. With imaginative minds and creative juices working overdrive, the TeamAsians delighted us with their productions, and made my job as judge difficult. Luckily there were other judges to spread the work around.
The Creative folks danced with abandon, representing the animal kingdom rejoicing the birth of the Lion King, when suddenly they removed their animal costumes and turned into zombies dancing to Michael Jackson’s Bad.
Starting with a video clip from Moana where she saves the island from devastation, the Digital/IT and Web boys danced to their own ditty of “mag walis, mag-bunot, mag-laba, mag-sampay” as their fitting welcome to the triumphant Moana, ably played by Chiara, who they then kill as “women are not allowed on their island.” Undertones of gender bias, but happily, we have our first female team member in what for the longest time was an exclusive male domain.
Pam’s baby Coco adorably dressed as a princess troll stole the scene from the Experience Department’s performance. Coco didn’t even cry when she was taken from her “dying” Mama Troll Queen’s arms and given to the Troll King as sacrifice. Abi Bibat ably led the group in singing.
Lynda surprised everyone with her singing for the Wizard of Oz, as the unlikely group of friends, Enzo as the Scarecrow, Joyce as the Tin Man, Erika as the Cowardly Lion, and Patrick as Dorothy hop-skipped their way through the Land of Oz. Aire as the Wicked Witch of the North and Denise as the Wizard herself completed the cast of characters. And when Erika the Lion received her badge of courage and stopped being cowardly, she pounced on Dorothy and killed her, then gave away Dorothy’s heart to the Tin Man and her brains to the Scarecrow. It was indeed a surprise ending, and a hilarious performance.
Content’s Little Mermaid’s story addressed the environmental crisis, weaving in undertones of the ocean’s desecration by the massive garbage and plastic being thrown into the sea. As Johanna, alias Ariel, sang longingly of exchanging her fishtail for feet so she could explore the earth, the other content staff swam, or rather bobbed, around. There was Luigi as a seahorse, Tony as a starfish, BeaF as an octopus, Ana as Nemo. Vince told the story, while the other team members served as extras or production staff; throwing the garbage and blowing bubbles in the air. Intent on achieving her dream, Ariel goes to Ursula, devilishly played and sang by Axl, complete with sidekicks Flotsam and Jetsam. Ariel gets her wish, while Ursula is caught by a fisherman. And once on dry land, hungry Ariel decides to stop by a kiosk to buy takoyaki, a popular Japanese street food made of octopus balls. Goodbye Ursula! A deadly twist indeed, reminding us that the garbage we throw out into the sea, end up in the seafood that we consume. Hats off to Elton, the master storyteller and scriptwriter!
After the performances, we headed off to the pantry to get food, while the young ones went around to collect goodies. It was heartwarming to see the little sons and daughters of our staff having fun and playing in TeamAsia.
And we all had fun dressing up! Bea was the evil queen holding a box with a heart, while I dressed up as Esmeralda of the Hunchback of Notre Dame. The night before, Bea asked me to make her a crown for her outfit, and I remembered all those halloweens past when my children were young and we dressed up in outrageous costumes.
Soon it was time for butt-spell. We had a record number of butt-spells this time, with BVernie of Content doing it so fluidly it must have been cursive! Bea then announced the winners of the competition: Content bagged the first prize, followed by MAD and Creatives.
Takot 2018 was definitely a blast, an occasion for TeamAsians to unleash their creativity while having fun. I look forward to what our Pop Up team can come up with for the next one.
This year, I celebrate my 60th birthday and the 25th year of TeamAsia. Instead of a birthday party, we agreed to go on a family trip to Italy. Why Italy? Because we love it!
Bea, Cara and I have been to Italy before while it will be Niccolo’s first trip to Italy. When I was 25, I went on a five day Italian tour with my Tio Mariano and Tia Conchi. It was beautiful and I vowed to return one day. I’ve been back twice visiting my sister Pinky and her husband Ken, and now this fam trip.
Cara lived in Sicily for three months on an internship at Gran Hotel Piazza Borsa, and I visited her there. The two of us traipsed through an unforgettable trip to Taormina in 2013. Bea went to Italy solo in 2014.
From Italy, Niccolo will proceed solo to Spain to meet our Spanish relatives. It’s an Iturralde tradition that each child and grandchild of Dada has to go to Spain to discover our Iberian roots.
Incidentally, this two week trip is being planned by the children. They decide where to go, where to stay, what to see, where to eat, what to do. Niccolo checks out reviews on restaurants and finds the best places. Being the most traveled of all of us, Cara booked all of our tickets and searched for the best places to stay given our budget. Bea and Cara decide on where to stay, and so far we’ve hit gold. Bea decides on the wine selection, Cara on the food to cook. I must say Google has been an amazing travel tool, and so has Waze. It’s nice to just sit back, enjoy the trip, and be a follower for once.
Our first stop was Rome for a night’s rest from the long flight from Manila via Doha. We stayed at Ecce, close to the train station. The next morning we headed to Florence where we stayed for four nights.
Cara booked us in an old, rustic but comfy Airbnb in San Niccolo, outside the city center. The neighborhood was quaint, peppered with little family-run shops and cafes. A lush green door opened up to an old, cold, dark and narrow staircase. Our apartment was three flights up, a challenge for the girls and Niccolo who carried up our suitcases. I was not allowed to carry anything heavy because of my bad back.
The high-ceilinged apartment sported two bedrooms with comfortable double beds, a tiny living/dining room, a kitchenette and a minuscule bathroom. The kitchen was surprisingly well stocked with olive oil, Balsamic vinegar and spices. After settling in, we decided to go out and explore Florence. We walked the cobbled streets, and entered a leather shop. I tried on an attractive reversible black and red jacket, but balked at its price, thinking I may be able to get a more reasonable one in the market.
Our first day in Florence was eventful until I accidentally sprained my ankle because of a missing cobblestone. (See https://monettehamlin.com) This cut short our foray in the city center, and we returned to the apartment. The children bought dinner from one of the nearby restaurants. To give my foot time to heal, I stayed in all of the next day. Cara whipped up a hearty breakfast of Florentine eggs and cold cuts. After making sure I was comfortable, the children went off to the city center. Alone in the apartment, I read, rested, and cleaned my email.
When the children came back, they surprised me by singing happy birthday and asking me to open a brown package. Lo and behold, inside was the reversible red and black leather jacket! The heartwarming note that came with it said it all. I feel so blessed to be loved by my children! Somehow, I think I’ve done a good job raising them.
Once again, Cara prepared a delicious Florentine dinner of rocket salad with raspberries and buffalo scamorza, mezzi rigatoni with a choice of chinghiale or pomodoro with Salsiccia sauce, washed down with La Pliuna Montepulciano D’Abruzzo, and ending with Cannolli and a Nutella tart.
The next morning, we decided to hear mass at the Duomo at noon. With my right foot bound, I hobbled alongside my children, slowing down their pace. The sun was out, showing off the beauty of Florence, making it gleam like a jewel. The Duomo was magnificent, the rich white and rose marble glistening. Throngs of tourists milled round the square. We entered the church and I was struck by the solemn silence inside. Not too many faithful inside the church. The mass was in Italian, but we followed, grateful for the mass leaflet translated to different languages.
After mass, we went to the market in search of Bondi. Frequented by locals, Bondi is a small restaurant selling a variety of foccacine. It was packed when we arrived but we stayed on and lined up at the counter, knowing the food is excellent. I had speck and mozzarella, while the others had prosciutto and mozzarella. We ended with biscotti e Vin Santo.
We then walked over to the Museo Casa di Dante, the birthplace of Dante Alighieri, one of the finest poets of Italy and author of The Divine Comedy, a classical masterpiece. It was interesting to see how life was in Florence during the late Middle Ages and what the landscape was then. Now, I know why there are many towers in Florence, as the prominent families tried to outdo each other in having taller and better looking towers that served not just as living quarters but also as fortresses in times of war. In fact, there were two warring factions which split Italy: the Ghibellines and the Guelf families, whose extreme rivalry and hatred for each other served as fodder for Shakespeare’s Capulet and Montague families in the Romeo and Juliet love story. It was also heartbreaking to learn of Dante’s unrequited love for his childhood friend Beatrice for whom he wrote haunting poems of love.
We made our way back to the apartment to rest, before going up to Michelangelo’s Gardens nearby to catch the sunset on Florence from its highest point. It was difficult climbing the many steps up to Michelangelo’s Gardens but I felt it important since Niccolo was not able to enjoy the sunset from Ponte Vecchio because of my accident. The view was magnificent, but the place was packed with tourists, and so it was a bit difficult to get a vantage point to watch the sunset.
That night, the children were craving for Florentine steak. However, all the restaurants nearby in San Niccolo were full so we had to walk to Ponte Vecchio to Trattoria Bordino. The long walk was definitely worth it! We feasted on Florentine crostini topped with warm chicken liver, steak carved table-side, mushroom risotto and fresh pasta vongole. For dessert, we had gelato at an artisanal gelateria at the Ponte Vecchio. Too full for dinner and too tired to walk, we took a cab home.
Early the next morning, Bea and Niccolo went to the Uffizzi museum, while Cara and I bought a walking stick and an ankle sock at a pharmacy to make it easier to walk. We met up with Bea and Cara and proceeded to the market to look for tomato seeds and limoncello, and bought some leather goods as pasalubong.
Niccolo wanted to see the Boboli Gardens and the Pitti Palace, but when we got there, we found them closed because of a holiday. The tourists who had planned to do the same thing were sunning themselves, seated on the sloping pavement, and eating gelato. Tired, we opted to return to our apartment, pack, then have happy hour drinks at the Bevi Vino Enoteca Bar downstairs. I tried Spritz for the first time. Sitting outside the bar in the waning daylight, I savored the moment. Here I was, with my beloved children, enjoying each other’s company, laughing, kidding each other, and just living! Oh, what joy!
It’s been a wonderful trip thus far. Florence never fails in delighting the visitor, and I hope to visit it again one day. Tomorrow, we move to Verona, Bea’s choice. None of us have been there before, so we don’t know what to expect. Time for a new adventure!
March 25, 2017. This morning, I sat with my laptop on a chaise lounge relaxing with Andre by the cliff at Crimson Hotel in Cebu. It was the morning after the beautiful wedding of Loui and Rain Luque (nee Quisumbing).
Andre was godfather at the wedding, partnered with Isabel Remedios, a childhood friend of his. Loui’s mom is the beautiful and feisty Martha Tuason of Cebu’s Y101 fame, Andre’s radio partner. Martha and her husband Joseph Stevens have been wonderful hosts, and I’ve enjoyed meeting the Tuasons (Bolo and Cookie, Conkoy and Doodie, Chuchay) as well as the Quisumbings, Rain’s family.
With Andre, Martha and Chuchay
Andre has always been close to the Tuason family, and his first job was working for the Tuasons as PR for Squires Bingham, which eventually became Armscor, and also in setting up 99.5RT with Emilio Tuason. Andre is forever grateful to them for having treated him as family.
Reminiscing with Martha and Joseph while having a nightcap.
I enjoyed listening to Andre and Martha reminisce about their early days in radio. For those who don’t know, Andre’s radio handle was Tiny Andy. I also met last night Little John, another famous radio DJ from Y101, Cebu’s Top 40 station.
Wedding guests
The wedding was perfect, unfolding just as Martha and Rain had painstakingly planned. It was a beautiful sunny day. The guests in their Hawaiian-inspired outfits added bursts of colour to the garden wedding by the beach. With the expanse of startling blue sea and sky as background, the stage was set for the wedding. A drone flew above recording this momentous occasion in the lives of Loui and Rain.
It was a Christian wedding, with heartfelt vows of love exchanged by Loui and Rain (including an “I’m glad I swiped right.”), and blessed by God, witnessed by friends and family. The minister reminded the couple and all those present to keep three ingredients alive in their relationships; faith, hope and love.
Funny Andre and his piña colada.
As the sun was setting, we moved to the bar for cocktails, while the couple and the wedding entourage had their photos taken. Parched from the heat, we tried the refreshing piña colada served in fresh pineapples complete with cherries and tiny umbrellas, and nibbled on delicious Japanese sushi with spam.
From Crimson’s stellar salmon Carpaccio, tuna poke, fresh shrimps, grilled vegetables, roast beef, lechon, and more, the repast was simply amazing. Fire dancers provided entertainment during dinner. After the traditional cutting of the cake, toast and messages from family and friends, the party went into full swing as guests danced, drank and celebrated the coming together of two families.
Andre and Baching
I enjoyed meeting Binggoy Remedios, who owns Dos Mestizos in Boracay, his partner Niña Bustamante, their daughter Chabeli, Isabel “Baching” Remedios and her friend Cindy Tolhurst. Since Andre and Baching were sponsors, they had to sit at the head table, so we were left chatting at our table.
With Binggoy, Niña and Chabeli
Binggoy is an amazing and interesting individual. He relayed how he decided to live in Boracay in the 80s after he lost his job in Manila. He first set up a Hobbie Cat rental, having refurbished broken down Hobbie Cats, which he got for a song from a friend. A foodie at heart, he then decided to set up Dos Mestizos, a Boracay “must-eat-at restaurant” with a friend. He and his partner Niña have a rustic home on the mainland far from the maddening crowd in Boracay, where they grow organic vegetables for the restaurant. Niña homeschools their beautiful six-year old daughter Chabeli, who has an enviable childhood in the farm which serves as her playground, interspersed with travel with her parents.
With Cindy Tolhurst
Cindy Tolhurst accompanied her friend Baching to the wedding. It was Cindy’s first visit to the Philippines, and she enjoyed discovering her mother’s country. It is always interesting to talk to people visiting for the first time and to see the country from their perspective. Cindy loves the country’s cuisine, especially pancit palabok and halo-halo, and looks forward to sampling Cebu’s famous lechon. She recounted how she swam with the baby whale sharks in Oslob, showing me pictures of her underwater exploits. Another item to tick off my bucket list. That, and paragliding.
The Quisumbing FamilyWith Martha, Joseph, Rey, Merlou and friends from Bacolod.Tuason family and friendsLoui and Rain with Bolo and Rain’s uncles
The night before, the two families had gathered for dinner at a Chinese restaurant in Cebu. Andre and I joined the Quisumbing family in the van on the way to the restaurant. Rey Quisumbing, Rain’s father, is a gentleman farmer from Pagadian, Mindanao. He grows a lot of fruit trees including the famed sweet Thai coconut, which he propagated from just 5 coconuts to 15,000 trees, and his siling labuyo, which he processes into garlic chili oil when siling labuyo prices are down. Rey gifted us with two bottles of his garlic chili oil, which I am dying to try out in Manila.
Emil Quisumbing and family
Emil Quisumbing, his only son, takes charge of distribution of soft shell crabs in Manila, in between his work schedule as supplier quality engineer at BPO Nidec Motor Philippines and taking care of his wife and son. Also in the van was Rey’s niece Paula and her friend Misha, a Nepalese-Russian. Both work in New York and had come for the wedding.
Rey Quisumbing’s chili garlic oil. A real winner!
We had a pizza and pasta lunch at the Azure Beach Cafe together with Loui and Rain and the Quisumbings. Merlou, Rain’s mom, and her two sisters, Adeste Siguan and Imelda Sy Egco, as well as their friend Elena from New Jersey were there as well. And finally, we had a taste of Rey’s Q’sina Sayao Farms chili garlic oil which added a zing to the pasta vongole (I forget the name of those delicious large clams). He has a winner recipe here.
Dinner tonight was at Martha’s home, where she whipped up the most delicious prime rib roast, coupled with creamed corn and mashed potatoes. Joseph kindly did the carving for everyone. I learned later that Baching had brought the meat for the roast all the way from the US. After partaking of the sumptuous roast beef, Konkoy, Doodie and Chuchay had to rush to the airport to catch their flight back to Manila.
Tuason Family
A low handicapped golfer, Joseph taught Martha’s grandchildren and their friends how to properly swing golf clubs. And I got the chance to pour over a book on the Tuason’s ancestry and Martha’s facsimile of Noli Me Tangere. We sang “Happy Birthday” for Dino and Martha’s daughter Tamara and her cousin, Yana. And later, took a family photo of the Tuasons on their staircase. (This seems to be a tradition for most families, as we do this in ours as well).
As I write this, I look back on the past three days and thank God for the gift of friendship and pray for a long and wonderful life together for Loui and Rain.
We spent the afternoon resting at home and getting ready for the flight out. Andrè and I took the 10pm red eye flight to Miami, had an hour and half wait at the Atlanta airport, and arrived in Miami at 9:30am. We didn’t sleep at all on the plane, and so were bleary-eyed when we arrived. We took a taxi to the home of Douglas Kamm by the Coral Gables, where we met his friend Angela Younger from New Zealand who was visiting and was just about to leave for the airport. Douglas was delighted that his Australian contact had finally met his Filipino contact after all these years.
Andre in Douglas’ kitchen
Douglas, Andrè’s best friend from his college days, lives in a nice, antiquated house. Feeling grungy from the long trip, I freshened up at his restroom, and was immediately brought back to my childhood days. It seemed that I was back in my grandmother’s house in San Sebastian as the furnishings were so similar. Douglas’ classic sense of style was evident in the blue and white ceramic collection he had in his kitchen, his paintings and his ivory pieces.
Douglas invited us out to his garden. A bit wild at the moment, his garden was the toast of the city back in its heyday, and was featured a number of times in magazines. You could still see what made it famous back then from the variety of foliage planted. Why, it even had a mango tree, which Andrè avers produces the sweetest mangoes. I hurried back to the house when I learned that a few days ago a crocodile had snatched a pet dog away from its master who was walking it by the creek, and that this had happened a few houses away from where we were. I certainly did not want to be croc breakfast.
Douglas driving us around Miami
Douglas gave us a grand tour of the city in his car, driving up to South Beach lined with art deco hotels and restaurants on one side and on the other, Sunday strollers on the beach. He had worked in hotels in the strip, and gave a running commentary that was entertaining. He even pointed out the exact spot where celebrated designer Versace was gunned down by a Filipino named Cunanan. After that, we did a quick spin of Coral Gables, Miami’s version of Forbes Park where the wealthy live. I loved seeing the massive banyan trees. What character they had and what tales they could share if only they could talk, I wondered.
For lunch, we went to Bangkok City for their famous crispy duck. There were several options on the menu but we settled for the basil version, along with tom kha (i.e., chicken soup cooked in lemongrass and coconut milk.) and pad thai. Andrè and Douglas have been going to that Thai restaurant for well over 30 years. We then went to Gilbert’s Bakery to get key lime pie to bring to Cachito’s home, and we ended up getting pecan pie, Grand Marnier and tocino del cielo as well.
The two men enjoyed ribbing each other over lunch, recalling capers over the years. After lunch, we headed to West Palm Beach. Just before Exit 35, the car’s left rear tire blew out, and we had to wait for AAA to come help us. Just that morning, I learned that Douglas didn’t know how to use a mobile phone, much less owned one, and so it was interesting to observe him using Andrè’s mobile phone to call AAA’s customer service. We were told it would take 90 minutes for AAA to arrive. So I began writing this blog while we awaited our knight in shining armor. I kept hoping the aircon wouldn’t conk out before the rescue vehicle arrived, as it was sweltering hot outside.
After much anticipation, the AAA rescue vehicle arrives!Waiting for Uber
When AAA’s rescue vehicle arrived though, we learned that they could not change the tire as the spare tire was riddled with holes. The only solution was for a tow truck to come and pick up the car. This would take another 90 minutes, we were told, but since only one person could ride in the car being towed, that meant Andrè and I needed to find some other way to get to West Palm Beach. And that’s when I called Uber to the rescue. I accessed my Uber app from the Philippines, and in 12 minutes an UberX came to pick us up. There we were, perspiring from the heat of the sun with our suitcases lined up on the shoulder, when a new Hyundai Sonata driven by a lovely Cuban young woman stopped to help us.
Zuy to the rescue!
Zuy Alejo, our Uber driver, was making frijoles (black beans) at home when the Uber call came in, and when she saw that we were on the turnpike, she figured that we had an accident. Kind-hearted Zuy decided to get in her car and drive to us. She was truly heaven-sent! Zuy drove us from the Turnpike all the way to West Palms Beach.
Charming Zuy shared her interesting story with us. At five years old, she and her family came to America from Cuba on a 21-footer boat with 22 other people. They were nine days at sea, without food or water. She said they had no choice but to drink their urine. What a life changing experience that must have been for her family! Now happily married and leading the parents-teachers association in her child’s school, she works at a restaurant, and started on Uber in the past two months.
And then Andrè popped the question: “Where can we get the best key lime pie in Miami?” And Zuy said, Key West of course! But the really good ones can be found in the airport, she added. Well, this we must try on the way to Seattle.
We arrived at the home of Cachito, Andrè’s younger brother, and were welcomed warmly. That night, Cachito and his wife Rocio hosted dinner at Hoes Asian Cuisine. It was a big group, and I was a bit overwhelmed at first. I met Andrè’s mom, Tita Dolly, his cousin Margie, his sister-in-law Margarita, and his nieces Stephanie and Angeline, and their partners Andrèw and Chris. The food was nourishing after that long day of travel, but we were so tired as we had hardly slept the night before on the plane.
October 17, 2016
Outside the Cracker Barrel with Andre, Dolly and Gerry
The next morning, we went to the 8am mass at St. Augustine Catholic Church with Tita Dolly and Gerry Humphries, who drove us. It was a beautiful mass, and I felt at peace with the world. We then had a hearty breakfast at Cracker Barrel, a quaint shop selling country items alongside a cafe. We enjoyed sunny side up farm fresh eggs, sausage links, grits with sawmill gravy, freshly baked homemade buttermilk biscuits, fluffy pancakes with old-fashioned maple syrup, jam and coffee. We didn’t know what to do with the grits, but after Gerry told us to mix it with butter, salt and pepper and gravy, the grits turned out delicious! I couldn’t help but explore the store and picked up some shirts. Just outside the store were some pretty rocking chairs, and so had some photos snapped there.
Enjoying a meal at The White Elephant
We then went to a mall to check the Apple Store if they had the iPhone 7 Plus available. No luck. We went back home to rest, and went out to dinner that night at The White Elephant, on the invitation of Andrè’s Uncle Jess and his wife Benguet. There we met Jess’s children, Chris, a lawyer, and Michelle, a public prosecutor.
Michelle and her Great Dane.
Beautiful Michelle had her Great Dane with here. What a stately dog it was, and extremely well behaved! The pizza was just right and the shrimp curry delicious, though a chutney would have made it amazing. For dessert, we shared a key lime pie. The search for the best key lime pie was still on, but this was more like a vanilla cream pie. Again, we were told that the best key lime pie could be had at Key West.
Jess then toured us around his Wellington Mall, pointing out the five schools that were there, as well as the Post Office. The mall seemed more like a museum than a mall as it had beautiful sculptures around. There were statues of game fish and horses of different kinds, including carousel horses and a unicorn, live fish in aquariums, grandfather clocks, and brass sculptures of children playing and having fun. I was happy to see the Philippine flag together with the American flag hanging in the activity area.
Andre and his Uncle Jess
An accomplished gentleman, Jess Santamaria was elected as County Commissioner three times. He believes in sharing his blessings and has two foundations that help provide education to children as well as help for less privileged families.
We stopped to look at a poster he had of Desiderata, and I was amazed when Jess and Andrè started to recite the poem from memory. Andrè’s favorite was: “Avoid loud and aggressive persons, they are vexations to the spirit.”
October 18, 2016
The next morning, we had breakfast together with Cachito and Tita Dolly. The night before, Rocio had prepared a Filipino breakfast of longganiza and fried rice. I fried the eggs and prepared the tomato and onion salad to go with it. Rocio’s longganiza was to die for. She said she got them at Kabayan, the Filipino store in West Palm Beach. That night, I asked her the secret for cooking it the way she did. I was happy she taught me how to do it properly.
Margarita then picked us up to bring us sightseeing at Worth Avenue, one of the most exclusive shopping streets in the United States. It is the equivalent of Rodeo Drive in Los Angeles, where all the most expensive brands have stores: Jimmy Choo, Chanel, Ralph Lauren, Kate Spade, and more. I wasn’t paying much attention to the stores, instead enjoying the stroll and talking to Margarita.
With Andre, Mike, Techie and Margarita.
Lo and behold, who do we see at the corner of Worth Avenue, sitting down by the shaded bench but Mike Bilbao, hubby of Techie Ysmael. Turns out he was waiting for Tetchie who was meeting someone at one of the shops. Soon, Techie showed up with a copy of the book she had written on her famous mother, Chona Kasten.
After bidding goodbye to Mike and Techie, we continued to look for Pizza Al Fresco, a little restaurant tucked away inside one of the garden alcoves. We had a most delightful meal of Andrè’s favorite, shrimp cocktail, a Portobello mushroom salad, and their famous pizza alfresco, washed down with a Peregrino with gas.
Over lunch, we shared our life experiences, how sad and lonely we were when our beloved spouses passed on, how we needed to get a grip on our emotions and decide to accept fate and move on, how we adjusted to the difficulties of senior dating, and how fortunate we were to discover second chances at love, along with the complexities that come with it. After all, there is so much more life to be lived and happiness to be enjoyed.
We then visited the Palm Beach Outlet Mall where we visited various shops, and chanced upon GH Bass, which had the most comfortable shoes, which Margarita and I bought. We all ended up buying various items. A sudden downpour cut short our shopping spree, and we headed home, as we still had a dinner to attend. Angeline and Chris Gross were hosting dinner at Aglioli for the family. Margarita and I laughed when we realized we both had worn our new shoes to the dinner.
At Aglioli with Andre’s family
Aglioli is a family restaurant that allows its guests to design their own pizza and pasta using various types of noodles, sauces, meats and veggies. After sharing the fresh house salad, which came in huge bowls, with lots of black olives and crunchy baguettes, we had fun designing our own pasta. Andrè ended up with angel hair pasta with rich pomodoro sauce and a side dish of meatballs. On Angeline’s recommendation, I got a shrimp pesto angel hair with artichokes, sun-dried tomatoes, mushrooms and grilled garlic. It was sublime! When dessert time came, we were too full to order a key lime pie.
There was much banter and lively conversation over dinner. I learned that Angeline, despite her 5’2” tiny frame, is an accomplished industrial engineer, a wind blade specialist at New Era, which used to be the Florida Power and Light Company. She climbs wind towers that are hundreds of feet high to check on the blades. Cachito says that when she sent him photos of how high she was on her first climb, that he was so nervous he had to take a drink. Kudos to her, as she excels in a man’s world.
When Rocio learned that we were on a quest to discover the best key lime pie, she offered to bake us one for the next day when Margarita was hosting dinner.
October 19
Reliving breakfasts of before at Gabrielle’s
Early the next day, Andrè and I together with Tita Dolly and Gerry went to Gabrielle’s Café and Grille, voted 12 years running as the best breakfast place in town. Andrè recounted that this was a Sunday tradition for him and his brother Raymond, their uncle Tony and cousin JJ and a few other friends. He said it looked exactly the same, except the round table where they usually sat was now nearer the entrance.
After breakfast, we went home to Tita Dolly’s where we had dance lessons from Gerry. Gerry Humphries learned how to dance from the Fred Astaire Dance Studio, and eventually put up his own dance studio. His school produced several dance champions of the US. It was interesting how Gerry explained the science of dance so simply that we got it immediately. He made sure we learned the basic “box” and showed us how that box was applicable to various types of dance, how high our hands held should be (level with the woman’s eyes, he admonished Andrè), where to put my hand on Andrè’s shoulder, how to turn gracefully, and so on. I took a video of Gerry dancing with Andrè, and then with Dolly. A few more lessons, and I believe Andrè and I could conquer the dance floor!
Beautiful Dolly
I enjoyed talking to Andrè’s mom. At 92, she still exudes the special beauty that captivated the heart of Rene Kahn, Andrè’s father. Not only that, she was charming and sharp as sharp can be. She relayed stories of her youth, of their courtship, of being mother to 13 children, of being asked to be a blue lady but declining, of how she and her husband were so in love with each other, and how he would not let her dance with anyone else at parties.
She had met him when she was only 12, acting as chaperone to her older sister. Because she was tall for her age, her sister’s suitors would vie for her attention and start to court her instead. Her parents advised her to dance with other boys, but when she met Rene, she was smitten and all she wanted was to be with him. He would wait for her outside at parties, and she would escape to see and talk to him.
He got a job in Cebu, but after just three months, he could no longer bear to be separated from her that he left to marry her. She conceived on their honeymoon, and nine months later she had her firstborn, Butch. She said Rene vowed he would have just one child after he saw the pain of childbirth she went through. But it was not to be as the children came one after the other. Love was not to be denied.
Dolly and Rene were inseparable, and he would bring her with him on trips domestically and overseas, even living for a year in Hong Kong while he set up the San Miguel Brewery there. As I listened to her, I wondered how she was able to cope with social responsibilities as the wife of the Coca-Cola Corporation CEO, and as mother to all her children – four girls and eight boys. But cope she did, marvelously, as her children turned out wonderfully, with solid values.
When Rene died, she moved to the US. There, she gave in to her love for dancing, and would dance for hours. She told me that once her doctor asked if she did any exercise. She said none, but that she would dance for four hours a day. The doctor was floored! No wonder Tita Dolly has kept her slim figure all these years.
Silver Wedding Anniversary
Tita Dolly showed me her treasured albums, especially that of her Silver Wedding Anniversary. It was a beautiful album with black and white photos. Rene and Dolly looked so happy together, and they had a beautiful family! I eagerly looked for photos of Andre as a young man. He was quite handsome!
Andre and his mom’s portrait. He was in her womb when this painting was made.
In her living room, she showed me a painting of her as a young mother, and she told me that she was pregnant with Andrè at the time the painting was done. She looked absolutely gorgeous! No wonder Rene loved her so much, and as Andrè said, put her on a pedestal, teaching his children that this was the way a man should treat his wife. I asked Andrè to stand beside the painting so I could take a photo of him with her.
After the dance lessons, we went to BJ to see what they had on sale. BJ is like Costco, and also has food samples in each lane. We were tired, so we went back home. For lunch, Cachito, Andrè and I made a quick run to Jon Smith Subs for some sandwiches. Andrè and I shared an 18-inch meatball bomb sub. A poster boasted that Jon Smith Subs was voted the favorite French Fries. There was also a cute poster of a forlorn dog with long ears that said “I hate Jon Smith. No leftovers.” Poor doggie, the fries were so good there was none left for the doggie bag.
That night, we went to Margarita’s home and met her Colombian family and friends. There was her sister Beatriz and her hubby, Andrès Gutierrez; Jon Duque, the husband of her best friend Vicky; and the Kahn family. Margarita prepared a delicious roast of prime rib, served the Kahn way with horseradish, creamy mashed potatoes, grilled Portobello mushrooms, and a green salad with avocado dressing.
For dessert, Margarita made a flaky jackfruit (langka) and plantain pie. She told us her jackfruit tree from the Philippines planted by Raymond bore a lot of fruits and she had been wondering what to do with it, so she froze the fruit and made pie. It was heavenly! But, dinner wasn’t over yet, because Rocio arrived with the promised key lime pie she had specially prepared for us. I loved it so much I had seconds! Andrè was naughty and gave me a whole slice rather than the sliver I had asked for. What a wonderful time we had at Margarita’s! Andrè and I agreed that the Colombians were a fun group.
October 20
The next morning, Cachito prepared breakfast for us: toasted Thomas English muffins with melted butter and honey, sunny side up eggs, ham, and Starbucks coffee. It was delicious! Earlier, Tita Dolly had gone to 8am mass to pray for safe travels for us. She came by to bid us goodbye.
Margarita then arrived to drive us to the airport. She was going to have lunch with Douglas and give him our “little fishies” gourmet tuyo in oil pasalubong. This was going to be a long flight, first to Atlanta and then to Seattle.
On the plane, I remarked to Andrè that there were a lot of pumpkins around. The malls were full of all sorts of pumpkins, from large ones I couldn’t carry to tiny ones, with different colors and textures. Restaurants all seemed to incorporate pumpkin as an ingredient in their dishes. There was pumpkin pie, pumpkin ice cream, pumpkin risotto, pumpkin sauce, even pumpkin perfume and pumpkin wine! I guess it’s that time of the year, nearing Thanksgiving. But before that would be Halloween, and the malls were replete with Halloween costumes and décor being sold. Several of the houses we had passed were already adorned with Halloween décor, from giant spiders to witches and goblins to eerie lighting and even some cackling. Halloween was going to be interesting, but now we were off to see my side of the family, and I was terribly excited for them to meet Andrè.
I’ve only been to the US four times: the first was to attend a publishing conference in New York, the second a trip with my late husband Mike to Boston to meet with the Harvard Publishing Group, the third a trip to visit our relatives in Texas and Washington, and the last, five years ago, to attend my sister’s wedding. This time around was different. I was excited yet apprehensive.
In three short weeks, we would do the rounds of Los Angeles and Florida to meet Andrè’s US-based siblings and his mom, and then go to Seattle and San Francisco to meet my side of the family: two brothers and a sister.
On the flight to LAX
I realized getting out of the LAX airport that LA is cold. Brrrr! Andrè had told me to pack light clothes for LA and Miami as it was just as hot as Manila. We didn’t account for a cold front the week we arrived in LA. It was great that Gerry Gonzalez, Maribel’s husband was there to pick us up.
Our first meal on US soil was burgers at The Habit. It was a toss up between In and Out but The Habit won. There was some discussion about which burger was better: that of The Habit or I&O. The Habit got most of the votes. The burger was delicious, but I made a mental note to try out I&O myself. At Maribel’s home I slept like a babe that night, tired out from the long flight from Manila.
October 12, 2016
The next morning, I prepared breakfast of bagel, ham, cheese and eggs. Gerry had left earlier for work. Maribel helped me pack our pasalubongs (gifts) for family in Florida, Seattle and San Francisco. When the boxes were done, Maribel drove us to Costco where I had my first experience of shopping. It was overwhelming for someone not used to shopping. I immediately settled on a sweater to keep me warm. I also found out that one could get full nibbling on free samples at Costco.
Pumpkins galore
Everywhere we went, pumpkins were on display. They came in varied sizes, color and shapes, though they were mostly orange. We couldn’t help but have our photos taken with the pumpkins.
After a late lunch at Akropolis with gyros, Mediterranean salad and a baklava, we passed by the Persian Market at Mission Ranch. Like a little child in a candy shop, I was blown away by the lushness of fresh vegetables and fruits on display, some of which I’m not familiar with, the endless variety of spices and mouthwatering sauces, and couldn’t help myself but pick up a few items. In my mind, I was already dreaming of what I would cook with them. Tired from shopping, we went home to a delicious lentils and boeuf bourguignon dinner that Maribel had prepared before she left for the Philippines.
October 13, 2016
Shopping is second nature to the Kahns, and this was my baptism of fire. Andrè gave me tips on how to shop, and where to look. “Head straight to the Clearance corner first,” he said. “That’s were you’ll find the best buys. Check the price tags and look for the coloured ones as they give you a further discount from the printed price. If unsure, ask!” That night, he sent me to sit with Maribel to learn about coupons and sales.
At Target
We visited Target where Andrè loaded up on shirts, then Trader Joe’s and finally, Tuesday Morning, where I broke the ice (or should I say melted completely and gave in to a buying spree) and loaded up on bed linen, foot rugs, and towels. The cashier called out that they were closing in 10 minutes. We were the only ones in the store and had only gone through two rows, yet I already had two overflowing shopping carts. Maribel and Andrè were chuckling as I was paying at the counter. Anytime now, they said, I will be hit by “shopper’s remorse.” Andrè bought some dark chocolate bars so I would feel better. He knows very well that chocolates lift my spirits anytime. I figured that since I hardly ever shop in Manila because of my work schedule that I shouldn’t feel guilty about shopping for things we need. That night, I filled up one balikbayan box.
In between shopping sprees, we had lunch at Cinnamon Production where I had half a delicious corned beef sandwich and piping hot pumpkin squash soup. We looked longingly at the dessert counter, and asked for key lime pie, but they had none on the menu. Instead, we settled on an apple pie to bring home.
Andrè’s brother Mario and his wife Marivic happened to be in San Diego, and they decided to swing by Maribel’s house to meet us and have dinner. Gerry popped into the oven the Chicken Marsala that Maribel had prepared, while I cooked the masa for croquetas de jamon and croquetas de boeuf bourguignon. For dessert, we opened a Chocnut from Manila. Because Mario and Marivic had a long drive ahead, they left early.
A shy person, Maribel reminded me not to post any photos of her on Facebook, and I promised I wouldn’t without her permission. Hence, I ended up not taking any photos that night. A pity though as Maribel is such a beautiful person, her inner warmth and kindness shining through, the kind whose irrepressible laughter brings sunshine to the room.
October 14, 2016
What a day this turned out to be! In the morning, I did the laundry after Gerry, who was working from home that day, taught me how to use the washing machine and dryer. In between wash loads, I formed the masa into croquetas ready for dinner that night.
Friends and family for dinner: Tessie, Andre, me, Gigi, Mari and Gerry
The day before, Andrè had invited Tessie and her husband Toño, his classmate Mari Crespo and his girlfriend Gigi Gomez, to join us and Maribel and Gerry for dinner. I offered to make a paella and croquetas.
Gerry dropped us off at Irvine Spectrum to shop. There, Andrè finally found the Sketchers shoe he had been searching for. We passed by the Apple store to check if we could get an iPhone 7 Plus but there was none on stock that we could get with an open line, or SIM-free as they called it here.
We had a funny yet exasperating experience at a Beauty Shop at Irvine. We were walking when a young man handed Andrè an envelope, which he inadvertently accepted. It was one of those con jobs where they try to sell you beauty products to supposedly remove your eye bags. I tried pulling Andrè away but he went into the shop, so I had to follow him. The salesman said he would put a lotion on my eyebags that would make them disappear. I said only if you put them on both eyebags and on Andrè too. He agreed and so we sat down.
The salesman put the magic lotion on my right eye, and I immediately asked him to put it on the other as well. He said wait, so we could see the difference it makes. He then put it on Andrè’s left eyebag as he tried convincing us to buy this and that product. Of course, the product worked, but the price was steep: $399 for a small stick of lotion that he said would last a year, and whose effect will last two more years. He then tried to sell us two sticks, one for each one of us, but we didn’t bite.
In the meantime, I asked him to put in on my other eye. He kept stalling, negotiating better offers, such as $399 per stick plus a free hand lotion. The man kept chatting, dialing up his sales talk, even resorting to the old trick of “if we divide $399 by 52 weeks, we’d end up paying only $11 per week to remove our eye bags for a year.” OMG, I thought, even his math was wrong. It should be little more than $7.60 a week, I computed mentally. Again, I demanded that he put the lotion on the other eye as promised. He did after much nagging, but not enough so that the other eye was still puffy. I signaled to Andrè, let’s leave.
Paella and croquetas dinner at the Gonzalezes.
The man followed us out of the shop making his final offer in a stage whisper, “I will give you my family price of only $250 per stick. Please buy.” No way, Jose. After telling him we would think about it over lunch, the man finally gave up and went back to the store. We all had a good chuckle over dinner that night when we recounted to our guests how Andrè and I escaped without giving in, but were each left with a hint of an eyebag. That night, Tessie told us that the same thing had happened to her. We all had a good laugh about it.
October 15, 2016
Lunch at the Rusty Pelican with Mike and Liz Hulley and Gerry and Maribel Gonzalez
The next day, Gerry drove Andrè, me and Maribel to Newport Beach where we had lunch at The Rusty Pelican, at the invitation of newly-weds Liz and Mike Hulley. Liz is Gerry and Maribel’s lovely daughter. It was a breathtakingly beautiful drive along the coast, and we passed millionaires’ homes along the way. The seafood lunch at The Rusty Penguin was absolutely fresh and delicious. We had calamari, shrimp cocktail and freshly-baked buttered crunchy parmesan-coated baguettes for appetizers. Andrè ordered the lobster salad, while I had grilled salmon with a lobster sauce. I even gave in and had a chilled Moet Chandon with my salmon. It was heavenly!
We spent the rest of the afternoon resting at home and getting ready for the flight to Miami that night. Tomorrow, I meet Andrè’s mom, and the butterflies in my stomach are having a field day.
Invariably, whenever I would bump into an older graduate of the College of the Holy Spirit where I studied, I would be asked, “How is Miss Maria Luz? How is Dean Julia Iturralde?” And then they would launch on how the two sisters left an indelible impression on them, how much they missed them, and how thankful they are for the values and learning they received. Sadly I would tell them that my two aunts, younger sisters of my father, had passed on.
My brothers and I grew up in the family compound right behind the Basilica of San Sebastian. My mother was widowed early, and so we were raised in a maternal environment: my mom, my father’s mom Lola Ingga, my father’s aunt Lola Teta, and my two maiden aunts: Julia and Maria Luz. My father had another sibling, Tita Rory, but she had entered the nunnery and became a Sister Servant of the Holy Spirit (SSpS) and so we hardly saw her.
My two aunts figured largely in my growing up years, and this is my tribute to the two women who I love dearly.
Maria Luz Iturralde
My godmother and aunt, Maria Luz Alvaro Iturralde died in the wee hours of December 31, 2008 while I was in Texas. I can still remember my sister Pinky’s sobbing voice trying to tell me the sad news over the phone, which she had received from Paz, my sister-in-law in San Francisco, who had in turn been called by my brother Paul. The news had traveled swiftly around the world.
I quickly called my mother in Manila. She had not even heard the news yet. All she knew was that my brother Paul had brought Maria Luz to the hospital at midnight. Then, I woke up Bea and asked her to go to Quiapo to be with my mom and help out with arrangements. Like real troopers, my daughters Bea and Cara, with their cousin Monchoy, took charge of the wake while my brother Paul made the funeral arrangements.
The rest of us siblings (Johnny, Pepito, Pinky and I) felt helpless being so far away. All I could do from the other side of the globe was write down my memories of our aunt for an online memorial. Maria Luz loved to write. This was the best way I could think of to pay her tribute.
Maria Luz or Lucy or Frenchie as her friends would call her or Dada Uds as her grand nieces and nephews called her was a writer non par. She was the longest running moderator of Action (1947-51), Veritas (1980-94), TheProfile, and The Faculty Review. Udsy was also the editor of The Search and We the Alumnae. She was an excellent writer and would write under the monicker Sub-Rosa (or chismis queen). I remember many trips to the National Printing Press in Quezon Avenue to check on various publications. She guided the exhibit for the College of the Holy Spirit’s 75th anniversary.
An English teacher at the College of the Holy Spirit, Udsy dedicated herself to helping students learn to love the English language. Quick-witted, she entertained her students with stories about family and life, making her dearly beloved to all of them. She was my English teacher as well, from the time I learned how to speak, read and write. In college, I studied English under her. She prodded me into writing and editing for the school paper. My baptismal godmother, she was always there to watch over me and guide me. And I had to study extra hard to make sure that I earned good grades.
She taught for 49 years at the school that she loved with all her heart, and was guidance counselor for a long time. I remember her anguished crying when she was replaced as the guidance counselor. Her life revolved around that school, and when she was forced to retire, she was terribly disheartened. Writing and editing kept her alive, and when she was removed by the CHS Alumnae Foundation as editor-in-chief of We the Alumnae on the pretext that the newsletter would now be computerized, she lost all interest in life.
As a young girl, Udsy excelled at sketching. Sports-minded, she won two trophies for marathon running. She studied Elementary Education for Teaching Children at Holy Ghost College (now College of the Holy Spirit).
A frequent visitor of the school’s bodega when she was a youngster, Udsy was always sent there for being the naughtiest girl in school. She was the bane of Erundina Fernandez (who later, for a time, became my mother-in-law and wrecked her revenge on me), Teofisto Guingona who called her “kabayo” because of her kicking him with her boston, and Alejandro Reyes who later became dean at San Beda.
Udsy was brave to the point of carelessness. During the Japanese occupation, a man was shot by the Japanese on our street. Without thinking of her own safety, she ran to him to give him the Last Rites. She would always take the side of the oppressed, and if she felt any of us were being given a hard time, she would take it upon herself to defend us.
Udsy loved to clean. Cleaning was her thing. She was very OC about this. The wooden staircase was not acceptable until it was gleaming. Her room was off limits to all us, unless it was story-telling time. She never liked the kitchen, and could not cook as far as I know. Kitchen duties were reserved for her sister Julia. But, oh, how she loved to eat! To the very end, she was always hungry, even if she had just eaten five minutes before.
Story telling was her thing. And for this, no one came even close. She was a master storyteller. And we lapped it all up.
I always credited my love of reading and literature to Udsy. When my brothers and I were young, we didn’t enjoy the usual fairytales like Goldilocks and the Three Bears, or Cinderella or Snow White. Instead, Udsy would regale us with stories of Greek, Norse and Roman mythology. Zeus, Hera, Aphrodite, Poseidon, Apollo, Athena, Hades and Ulysses. These were our heroes and heroines. The Three Fates – Clotho, Lachesis and Atropos – caused me nightmares. When would Atropos cut the string of my life, I anguished? Why, before The Lord of the Rings became a hit serial movie, we knew the entire story from beginning to end.
We eagerly looked forward to her payday because she would bring us to Goodwill in Escolta or to Bookmark and Alemars in Avenida Rizal and let us buy whatever book we desired to read. We had a complete collection of Hardy Boys and Nancy Drew books. When I got into my teens, she even indulged my love of Barbara Cartland and pocketbook love stories. On my 16th birthday, she got me a dozen pocketbooks. That was a special day!
Hot-tempered, Udsy easily got agitated. But when she was calm, she was very gregarious. She was always the life of the party, or so I remember. She would force my brothers and I to perform for her guests (mostly nuns, teachers and students) during parties at home. We had to recite a poem, dance or sing. Rock-a-bye-baby and Joyce Kilmer’s Tree Poem were favorites of mine.
When Udsy was angry, she was like a grenade, hurting everyone within reach. It was wise to stay out of her way. She would run over everyone. She would fly off the handle if she could not find a book, and would accuse us of getting it without permission. But when she would find it, her way of apologizing was to treat us to a Coke. And, oh, how she loved to drink Coke!
She wanted us to be serious about our studies, and thought anything unrelated to school work was the Devil’s work. One time, I was invited to become a model. Udsy was so angry, she threw a basin of water from her second floor window over the agents who came to take my photo. Naturally, that was the end of my budding modeling career.
Near-sighted in one eye, Udsy always wore glasses for as long as I can remember. Red lipstick was her trademark. She kept her shiny black hair short and hated it when white hair started to appear. She commissioned us to pick out her white hair with tweezers and would pay us a centavo for every three white hair we got out. She had her breasts removed when she was in her early twenties because of a cancer scare. She told me the surgeon made a mistake and took out her good breast, and when he realized his error, removed her other breast. She heard him talking about his mistake during her operation through the haze of her anesthesia. This caused her lifelong fear of doctors and medicine. Otherwise, she was in the pink of health for most of her life, all 5’4” and 98 lbs.
Udsy secretly admired my late husband, Mike, and would cut out his articles from different newspapers, save them in a brown envelope and give them to me each time I visited San Sebastian.
In her later years, Udsy became schizophrenic, thinking everyone was out to get her. It was truly sad seeing her fall into deep depression. She would physically hurt her caregivers, and so we decided to put her into a nursing home in Calamba run by nuns. We felt then that she and my aunt Julia would have better care there. We brought the family’s Christ the King statue to Calamba to watch over them. I was relieved though when my brother decided to bring them back home to San Sebastian. This was their home where they were happy.
Julia Alvaro Iturralde
On February 8, 2015 while vacationing in Rome. I received word from my mom that my father’s only remaining sibling, Julia Alvaro Iturralde had passed away. In a way, I was relieved. She had been ill for a very long time, her brilliant mind long gone, her once robust body withered and thin. She still managed a cherubic toothless smile whenever I would visit and remind her that I was Monette, her niece. Sometimes she would remember me. The last time, she did not, and it saddened me greatly. She asked why it was taking her parents long to fetch her.
Julia was born on October 7, 1931 to Jose Manalo Iturralde and Dominga Alvaro. The youngest in a brood of six, Julia or Jill as she was fondly called, was an extremely intelligent individual. She graduated Magna Cum Laude with an AB-BSE degree from Holy Ghost College, and finished two masteral programs: Master in Sociology from Ateneo University and Master of East Asian Studies from Radcliffe, where she enjoyed a scholarship. Jill held the deanship of the Liberal Arts Department of the College of the Holy Spirit for 23 years. She was also moderator of Action, Veritas and The Profile from 1964-67. A prolific poetess, Jill expressed her emotions in beautiful words.
My first recollection of Tita Jill (and later Dada Nings), as we fondly called her, was playing in my grandmother’s warm kitchen with a white porcelain tea set decorated with flowers that she had given me. I must have been less than three then. Pouring real milk tea in the tiny cups, she sat with me on the floor, and we pretended that we were having guests over. Sometimes, we would collect the moss in the garden, place them on the tiny plates and pretend it was salad. Other times, I got lucky and we actually ate food that had just been cooked in the kitchen.
When she came back from taking her masters at Radcliffe University, she brought home a huge walking doll for me. Oh, how I loved that doll with curly blonde hair! It was almost as tall as I was.
Tita Jill taught me how to pray before I slept: “Angel of God, my guardian dear, to whom God’s love entrusts me here. Ever this day be at my side, to light and guard, to rule and guide. And if I die before I wake, I pray the Lord, my soul to take. Amen.”
Summers, when we were growing up were spent in that kitchen. She would teach us how to bake, decorate cakes, and then let us experiment in the kitchen. I remember crying when my cake didn’t rise because I had forgotten to put baking powder in the mix. My brothers and I would fight as to who would clean up the leftover fudge in the bowl.
I loved watching how she cooked, and she would let me be her little assistant, though I was not allowed to wield a knife. I was assigned to mixing food. Getting egg whites to stiffen up was the hardest task ever. “Whip it 100 times, Monette, and don’t lift the spatula up or the air would escape,” she would admonish me. I would try valiantly to soldier on even if my arms felt like they were about to fall off. Looking back, I realize now that she had nurtured my interest in food.
Dada Nings taught Asian Studies at the College of the Holy Spirit, and to drive home learning, she would host parties at our ancestral home in San Sebastian for her students. They would cook Asian dishes, and wear dresses from the different countries they were assigned. My personal favorite was her sukiyaki. I loved watching them prepare the food, and then perform Asian songs or dances after. Oh, that was a lot of fun!
And she made life fun for her nieces and nephews. On Holy Saturdays, she would herd us into the dining room, give each of us a brush, and we would paint dozens of eggs for the Easter Egg Hunt the next day. I guess she must have hidden the eggs in the garden while we slept because we had fun hunting for them after mass on Easter Day.
We would have our own version of Flores de Mayo. We would dress up as saints using her clothes and stack of ribbons and scarves, parade up and down the house, then have a raffle of little knickknacks that she would collect. Oh, and we were not the only ones who had fun dressing up under her guidance. Her students were also in on it. I remember one Marian festival where she had her students dress up as different versions of Mama Mary and stand up like statues around the garden by the CHS Mendiola chapel.
She was a consummate writer, poet and story teller. She wrote plays about the Old Testament which her students performed in school. She wrote poems for the school paper, the CHS alumnae newsletter, and later for the newsletter she and her sister Maria Luz put up. She penned a book entitled Family Treasures which revealed all of the Iturralde secret recipes, and which I use to this day. Her friends gathered some of her poems and published them together with pieces written by my other two aunts, Maria Luz and Sister Encarnacion.
Early on, she encouraged us to perform during parties at home (Actually, I think a better word would be mandated). We either had to sing, dance, or recite a poem to the guests who invariably were their fellow teachers and nuns from the College of the Holy Spirit.
She was a very kind soul, soft-spoken, and yet you knew you were in deep trouble if you ever crossed the line. When I was in first year college, a classmate from elementary asked if she could visit me at home on a Saturday. I had not seen her for some time and was excited to see her. She came to the house with her father who was an advertising executive. A popular soft drink brand was giving away a car to the lucky person who found the tansan (bottle cap) with the winning mark. Apparently, he was running the contest, and he told me that he would make sure I would win the car, but in return I would have to sell the car and split the proceeds with him. I was to let him know my decision on Monday.
Naturally, I was very much tempted. Since my father died when I was ten, we were hard up. The funds would come in handy so I could pursue my dream of studying law, buy things I’ve always wanted, give my family a more comfortable life. At that time, I was studying on scholarship. I discussed the options with my Tita Jill, who advised me of the importance of being true to the values of honesty and integrity. That night, she gave me two cards she had drawn. Depending on my decision, I was to open one of the cards. That weekend was excruciatingly difficult for me. I decided to turn down the offer, and opened the card. Here’s what was written:
“Dear Monette,
You lost. W-a-a-a-a-h… sob sob… Boo hoo… Boo hoo. Hikbe… Sniffle… Sniffle…
But to me, after Monday, you are taller than a giraffe, taller than Empire State, taller than Mt. Everest.
You are one of us – born losers whose poverty is their (sic) our wealth.
At any rate, I’m so proud of you, so proud that I can treat you to a Shakeys pizza tonight!!!
Love,
Ninang
October 23, 1975″
And then, I opened the other card. It said simply:
“Dear Mongga,
Hooray!! Tsup!!!
Love,
Nings”
I knew then that she was very proud of me for making the right decision. That for me was the most beautiful gift she had ever given me. I treasure those two cards to this day.
I always wanted to study Fine Arts but we didn’t have the funds for this. But the summer after the softdrink incident, Tita Jill enrolled me in a summer class in painting at CHS. I was in heaven! The next summer, she enrolled me in theatre class, along with my brother Pepito.
She was always looking for ways to encourage our various interests. I remember the day the encyclopedia set she had purchased arrived. Pepito and I who were in grade school then were so excited, we spent the entire summer reading the encyclopedia from A to Z. We also played Scrabble and Monopoly with her. Tita Jill’s bed could be spotted a mile away because of the mountains of books and papers that littered it.
College studies was a different matter. Because I was on scholarship (which was the only way I could afford studying at CHS), I had to study very, very hard. It was made more difficult because my aunts worked at the school: Sr. Encarnacion taught Theology, Maria Luz headed the English Department, and Julia served as dean of Liberal Arts. They were stricter on me than anyone else, because they wanted to prove that I could make it on my own. They were thus ecstatic when I graduated with a Summa cum Laude.
Although she was the youngest sibling of my father, Tita Jill appeared to be the head of the family when it came to decision making. She was always protecting her older sister from harm. When Tita Jill and Tita Udsy (Maria Luz) were forced to retire from CHS, they started a newsletter to keep their minds busy. I suspect that Tita Jill used her retirement funds for this as Tita Udsy who had unceremoniously been removed as editor-in-chief of We, the Alumnae, had gone into deep depression. She wanted to make her sister happy. Tita Jill bought a computer and learned to use it.
Things got worse when my cousin Jose Rene and his mother Vicente died and Tita Jill was left to cope with the legal issues on inheritance. The stress was too much for her, and she suffered one stroke after the other, with complications from diabetes. She lost her eyesight, and this was a crushing blow to someone who was as widely read as her. As the years went by, she became less and less interested in life, and would just lie down, seeming to wait for her parents to come and fetch her. And now, they have finally and they are all reunited in their real home in heaven, with Christ.
Though I miss them terribly, I am happy that they are now at peace. I thank the Lord for the gift of having had them both as my aunts, and will always keep them in my heart. May they rest in God’s embrace forever.
Spontaneity won the day! It was a three-day weekend, and we had guests from France to take around. My niece and goddaughter Sam who lives in Sallanches in front of Mont Blanc came visiting with her French beau Sylvain Aubry. As my girls had a birthday party to attend Saturday and Niccolo was vacationing in Bacolod with his girlfriend Sam and her family, Andre and I agreed to take our guests around Tagaytay and Alfonso. My mom Dada joined us.
Since it was a long weekend and traffic Saturday morning would be horrendous, Andre suggested we leave Friday night. And so we did. The trip was a breeze.
Roadtrip to TagaytayOn Sam and Sylvain’s bucket list were mountain climbing and swimming. Our two guests wanted to trek to the Taal Volcano. We had planned to stay in Alfonso overnight but while chatting in the car, we realized that Andre’s house in Tagaytay was closer to the jump off point to Taal than my Alfonso farm. And just like that we decided to stay at Tagaytay, knowing full well that the house had not been lived in for two years. Being a meticulous planner, poor Andre was apprehensive that there would be no running hot water, and that the air conditioners and ref would not work. We assured him that we were all Cowboys, and would adjust. Voila! Everything worked just fine.
Early the next morning, I checked the kitchen to cook breakfast. I got the gas burners working, and was puttering around when I spied two hideous looking ceramic chickens on the countertop glaring at me. I let out a huge scream, being deathly afraid of chickens. Sam kindly moved the offending chickens and covered them with a cloth.
Beautiful but deadly Taal VolcanoAfter a sumptuous breakfast of piping hot coffee, corned beef, eggs and toasted pan de monay with guava and orange jams, we left for the Taal Yacht Club where we could arrange for a boat to bring our guests to Taal volcano. The second most active volcano in the Philippines and considered the smallest volcano in the world, Taal Volcano is a geologic wonder as it features a lake within an island within a lake within a larger island. It is part of the deadly Pacific Ring of Fire.
Sam and Sylvain’s Taal Volcano AdventureAccompanied by a guide, Sam and Sylvain took off on a motorized outrigger to take the secret trail to the volcano on horseback, and to go swimming in the lake within the volcano. As their trip would take four hours, we arranged lunch for them at the Yacht Club. Meanwhile, the oldies (Dada, Andre and I) went to Tagaytay Highlands where we had a delicious Chinese lunch of assorted dimsum, crispy seafood noodles, and a hotpot of eggplant and dried fish.
Naughty Dada and the LionWhile waiting for Andre to park the car, ever impish Dada had fun posing with the huge lion at the entrance of Dynasty Restaurant, acting as if the lion bit her. Oh, Dada!
In the afternoon, we visited Alfonso. I planned to prepare a paella pobre for dinner, but since I did not have lemon and chicken, I convinced Andre to pass by Mahogany Market. Well, the promised five minutes stopover took much longer with the variety of fruits that were being sold. Spotting some ripe langka, I bought some, intending to make our favorite turon with saba. We loaded up on lemons, mangoes, and lanzones which were so sweet that Dada and Andre quickly finished it off.
Plants were on sale beside the fruit market, and I couldn’t help myself from approaching them. I went gaga over the potted herbs on sale, and picked up tarragon, basil, dill, mint, sevia, and thyme to plant in Alfonso. I also bought a lovely smelling creeper called yesterday, today and tomorrow because of its tri-colored flowers. Hopefully, this plant would thrive in SouthBay.
We then went to the meat section so I could buy the chicken. Normally, I buy only deboned and skinless chicken thighs and breasts at the supermarket, but this being the wet market, they only had whole chickens. Luckily, I didn’t have to hold the chicken myself. I remembered that we didn’t have lumpia wrappers for the turon so I had to run back to the vegetable section to get some.
Alfonso, almost at duskFinally, we arrived at Alfonso just as the sun was beginning to set. I felt peace settle in my soul as I always do coming home to this retreat. The rambutan trees were in full bloom. I asked our caretaker to harvest rambutan and coconuts to bring home to SouthBay. After a quick walk around the farm, I started preparing the aioli and cooking the paella, while Dada taught Sam and Sylvain how to make turon. As I had to get an entire chicken at the market, it was left to our farm caretaker Bleng to cut the chicken into pieces and debone it for my paella and an adobo.
Paella pobre, simple but fillingOur simple dinner of chistorras al ajillo, paella pobre, and chicken adobo paired with a Vin d’Alsace was superb. Even Andre announced that it was my best paella so far. From such a discerning gourmet, that was one great compliment. The turon, mangoes and pineapples were a sweet finale to the dinner.
The lake within Taal Volcano. From afar, it looks serene, but close to it, it’s hot enough to boil an egg on one side, yet warm enough to swim in on another side.During dinner, Sam and Sylvain regaled us with their adventures at Taal. The horses were tiny, she said, just like ponies and they were worried the horses would not be able to carry them up the mountain, and then down into the inside rim of the crater where the lake was. Apparently, no living thing, even bacteria, can thrive in the lake inside the Taal volcano because of its high sulfuric content. Besides, the water is too hot as evidenced by the steam rising from the lake. The guide explained that an egg could be boiled if left on the rocks to one side of the lake. The water on the lake’s other side, however, was not boiling, and Sam and Sylvain swam in it.
As we were eating, the skies opened up and cried a river. The sound of the heavy downpour was lulling us to sleep on the veranda, but we decided to drive back to Tagaytay while it was still early enough. Good thing we did because there was zero visibility on the road. The fog was so thick we could hardly see in front of us. Andre followed the white lines on the road but would be dazzled by oncoming cars using high beams. Our guardian angels must be working overtime as we got home safely.
Sunday morning, we enjoyed a breakfast of steamed rice, Connie’s Best tuyo with capers, scrambled organic eggs and chicken adobo. We then got into the car and drove to Terrazas de Punta Fuego in Nasugbu. Between weekenders going to the various destination restaurants along the Tagaytay Ridge and the faithful attending mass, traffic was heavy. It was almost noon by the time we arrived at Terrazas. Driving down to the beach, we were transported to the French Riviera. The view of the sea sparkling in the sun was simply spectacular.
Chilling and swimming at Terrazas de Punta FuegoAndre had reserved a cabana so we could go swimming. We agreed on a late lunch as breakfast had been heavy. After a refreshingly cold lychee shake, Dada, Sam and Sylvain headed for the beach to swim. The strong waves crashing on the shore got the better of them, and the young ones transferred to the swimming pool, while the not-so-young ones lounged at the cabana. Ravenous after the swim, we transferred to the clubhouse for lunch.
Soon, Pablum Lobregat, Eddie and Lita Legarda showed up to join us. Pablum is the cousin of Andre’s late wife Ito, and Eddie her younger brother. Conversation revolved around the best beaches that Sam and Sylvain could go to, like Honda Bay, Coron, Puerto Princesa and Mindoro.
Pablum and Andre started kidding each other, sharing funny stories. We learned about this hilarious incident involving what turned out to be a very expensive cheese pimiento sandwich which Pablum offered to Andre. Transferring from one boat named Cocoa to Pablum’s other boat where the sandwich was waiting, Andre had one foot on Cocoa and the other on the second boat when the two boats started to move away, forcing Andre to do an impromptu split. The boats drifted farther than farther apart until Andre fell into the water, and lost a brand new slipper. The next day, he was black and blue and had to go for a full check-up. He never forgot that pimiento sandwich.
After lunch, we all got onto Pablum’s sailboat. We got drenched walking to the boat and getting on to it as the waves kept beating us up. The waves carried off my hat when a huge wave washed over me. Luckily, Eddie saved it for me. My 81-year old mom climbed onto the boat, little knowing that it would be a turbulent ride. Poor Dada! She ended up with a severe case of seasickness. Except for Dada, we all had a wonderful time on the boat, with the wind in our hair, the sun warm on our skin, and the warm water splashing all over us.
Sailing in NasugbuIt was my first time to go sailing, and I was curious about the unfurling of the sails. I clambered to the side and sat on the blue tarpaulin to the side of the boat. Lita kindly explained what was happening on the boat, as the crew got it working. I kept my head down for fear of being decapitated by the mast, and held on tight to the ropes for fear of sliding off. All my fears melted away as I marveled at the beauty of the sea from my perch. It was a glorious feeling! No wonder so many people love to sail. I understand now how they could fall in love with the sea.
The trip back to Tagaytay was tiring. Dada was asleep in the car, spent from the afternoon’s excursion. The fog was back in full force and so was traffic. Waze though helped us find a detour through the back roads of Tagaytay and Alfonso. Back in Tagaytay, I quickly prepared a capellini pasta with bottarga, anchovy, dried chilies, parsley, olive oil and lemon. It was our last night in Tagaytay and the sound of the rains was music to our ears as we chatted over dinner.
My farmer and meAfter breakfast Monday morning, we packed up everything and left for the farm so Sam and Sylvain could see what a hydroponic farm was. They were thoroughly impressed by the healthy produce at the farm. Andre gifted me with a giant yellow gumamela flower, along with a special message. Sam commented that the plants were all on steroids, seeing how large and healthy they all looked.
On the way home, we bought lanzones and more rambutan. We also stopped by LZM, which Andre swears has the best boneless bangus in town. I was relegated to going in to order the bangus, and as I write this blog, the delicious aroma of the fried bangus permeating the car Is tantalizing our senses. We’re all looking forward to lunch and being reunited with Bea and Niccolo.
All in, it was a most marvelous weekend spent with people I love. Special thanks to the warm hospitality of Pablum, Eddie and Lita for bringing us for a spin in the sailboat. I enjoyed meeting such wonderful friends and family of Andre. And I believe Andre enjoyed the time spent with my family as well. I am sure Sam and Sylvain will treasure the fun they had this weekend. After all, it is more fun in the Philippines.
The moment we arrived at Amarela and wooden steps were put to help us alight the van, I knew we were in for some serious pampering. And we were not disappointed.
Seahorse Gargoyle
Everywhere I looked there was something interesting that caught my eye. It seemed a magical place where artists, sculptors and artisans were given free reign to create and do as they please. Whimsical creatures were carved on posts and repurposed old wood. Animals, birds, people, flowers, sea creatures were released from bondage in discarded tree branches, trunks and roots.
Here was a tarsier, its big torchlight eyes oggling at me. There was a cat lazily reclining on a bench, a dog by its side. A newborn babe with its umbilical cord still connected to his spent mother was carved out of a huge root. A child nested contentedly in her mother’s warm embrace hung on the wall. A carabao seat served as a swing by the main entrance. Serving as a downspout, a huge wooden seahorse thrust its neck out on the balcony like a gargoyle, seeming to lunge out into the waters.
Old Bohol is Amarela’s theme, according to its owner, Atty. Lucas “Doy” Nunag whom I met the next day. He wanted to showcase Bohol’s unique culture, incorporating woodwork and woven textures into the place.
Triptychs
Gracing the wall along the stairs were “urnas” or personal saints, some done as triptychs, or three panelled paintings that were hinged together and could be closed. Doy said he wanted to revive this lost art, and encouraged local artists to paint them. Prints and paintings of scenes from yesteryears lined the walls.
Kitchen mixer from yesteryears
Doy had a collection of antique kitchen utensils and equipment, including a large shell as nutcracker and a paddle board for mixing dough. He also had an antique telephone, the kind that hangs from the wall.
The advent of Catholicism in the Philippines by Nene Borja-Lungay
Giving me a quick tour of the place, Doy pointed out several paintings that were done by Hermoginia “Nene” Borja-Lungay, an 85-year old Boholana who had studied under Amorsolo and was a contemporary of Joya and Abueva. Using her gift of art, Nene is a master storyteller. In Amarela’s museum was a painting that showed three scenes flowing into each other: first on the left is a friendly encounter between the Spanish conquistadores bearing gifts and Datu Sikatuna, then in the canter is a Spanish priest preaching to natives with the galleon anchored out at sea visible behind him, and then to the right is a scene of Filipinas dressed in Maria Claras apparently coming from a church. What an ingenious way of portraying the start of Catholicism in the Philippines!
Ravenous from the trip, we settled in the dining room with a breathtaking view of coconut treetops, lush greenery, beautifully landscaped gardens, and the brilliant sea. Brunch was filling and delicious, and the staff solicitous. Exhausted, we retired to our rooms for siesta. The air-conditioned rooms were spacious and bright, the beds comfortable and inviting. I loved the little design accents scattered around the room.
The first night, Niccolo developed a high fever. Feeling light headed and wretched, he asked if we could bring him to the hospital. I approached Chef Nick Matias who quickly arranged for transportation to bring us to the Tagbilaran Community Hospital. Upon reading his test results, the doctor said it might be dengue, but it was too early to tell. He sent us off with a prescription for meds and instructions for Niccolo to rest and have lots of fluids. Learning that my 81-year old mother was sharing the room with us, the doctor recommended we keep her and Niccolo apart as she might catch what he had.
The ever-friendly staff who made tawa-tawa tea for Niccolo. The Filipino hospitality and warmth shines through brilliantly in Amarela.
Luckily, the resort had one last room free which we quickly took. When the staff learned about what happened the next day, they searched for some tawa-tawa and made an herbal tea for Niccolo to take. What a thoughtful gesture!
We decided to stay in the resort on Good Friday. Ramon, Cara’s friend, arrived from Mindanao to take photos of Cara’s new bikini line for DiwataSwimwear.com. I took to writing, Dada to watching her Spanish telenovelas, Bea to reading by the beach, and Niccolo to resting in his room. Cara came back from her photoshoot giggling, looking like Princess Leia from Star Wars.
Hamming it up as Princess Leia.
She was wearing a yellow towel which Ramon had fashioned into a headgear that could serve as a travel head pillow. In stitches, we took turns wearing his invention. In the afternoon, we gathered to pray the “Siete Palabras” in a quiet little room to the side of Amarela’s art museum.
That night, we broke our fast and went to Giuseppi Pizzeria and Sicilian Roast on the recommendation of Ramon and Cara who had visited it before. We enjoyed a repast of pizza Siciliana, pizza quattro formaggi, rigatoni arabiata, and tagliolini limone e gamberi, washed down with a Montepulciano red wine. To complete the meal we had warm apple pie with vanilla ice cream and a tortino de cioccolato.
Saturday morning, the girls and Ramon decided to go to Balicasag to visit the marine sanctuary, swim and snorkel. Niccolo continued his staycation to recuperate.
Dada at the chocolate hills mirador. One more site ticked on her bucket list.
Meanwhile, Dada and I decided to go off sight seeing. The chocolate hills and tarsiers were on her bucket list, and she intended to tick them off her list. I, on the other hand, wanted to see the churches of Bohol. I’ve been feeling guilty about going off on vacation with the family instead of serving at the parish for the Easter triduum, and not going to church Thursday and Friday. I also wanted to visit some markets and see if there were any nice handicraft I could bring home. Our driver cum tour guide Rey was very accommodating and would point out places of interest, like the manmade mahogany forest and the Shiphaus, a hotel made to look like a ship along the roadside with nary a drop of water around. He also made sure we went to senior-friendly places so that Dada would not have a difficult time getting around. We went to the Philippine Tarsier Foundation in Corella because the trails were easier for senior trekking. At the Chocolate Hills, we took photos at the roundabout as Dada would not have been able to climb the 200+ steps to the top of the lookout. I had been there before, so after snapping a few photos, we left for the rest of our tour.
Do you want to see a python, Rey asked, and when I said yes, he promptly stopped at Bilar Hill Park & Restaurant in Casumbol, Bilar. Conquer your fears, the sign outside said. After paying the entrance ticket, we entered the dimly lit hut.
The colorful kalaw
Inside, the first thing we saw was a large colorful bird perched on a branch. It looked menacing and squawked shrilly. I moved away quickly, but my intrepid mother approached the bird, a kalaw, and started to pet its head.
Dada petting the kalaw.
The bird appeared to be enjoying the petting it was receiving from my mom. Further on, I saw a bench where two women were posing gingerly with a large albino python draped across their laps. We were up next, and I was given the python to carry.
Do you want to carry the albino?
It seemed easy enough but quite heavy. Next up we were invited to enter the large cage where a dark Burmese python and another albino python slithered slowly. Don’t worry, the caretaker said, you’re safe; they have just eaten a chicken each. My stomach started to knot at the thought, and so we quickly posed for the souvenir photo and got out of there.
Sandugo
Rey then told us about the tug-of-war that was happening in Bohol. To seal their friendship on March 15, 1565, Bohol chieftain Sikatuna and Spanish explorer Miguel Lopez de Legazpi performed a blood compact or Sandugo, paving the way for the friendship between Filipinos and Spaniards and ultimately over 300 years of Spanish influence. This we learned in history books. The issue revolves around the actual site and date of the blood compact. Both Tagbilaran and Loay are laying claim that the Sandugo happened in their area. Loay’s marker says it happened on March 25, 1565 aboard the flagship San Pedro which was anchored off Hinawanan Bay, with the leaders drinking wine mixed with blood from cuts they had slashed on their chests. Tagbilaran’s version says the Sandugo happened ten days earlier on shore. Following the local custom, Datu Sikatuna and Lopez de Legazpi drew blood from a small cut on their arms, mixed this with wine, and drank from the goblet. The National Historical Commission upholds the version of Loay. Whichever version is true, the fact is Sandugo happened in Bohol and Rey says he is happy about this.
We stopped at Bohol’s famous heritage churches along the way: Saint James the Apostle parish church in Batuan, Paroquia del Senor San Isidro Labrador in Bilar, Church of San Pedro Apostol in Loboc, Holy Trinity Church in Loay, the Sta. Monica Church of Albuquerque, the Church of Our Lady of the Immaculate Concepcion in Baclayon, and the Assumption of Our Lady Church in Dauis. We were unable to do the Visita Iglesia on Holy Thursday, and so I was happy we completed the seven church visits on Holy Saturday. The 2013 earthquake that shook Bohol had sadly destroyed most of its churches turning them into rubble, and reconstruction was ongoing for most of them, making it difficult to enter.
Albuquerque Church
Of the seven churches we visited, Albuquerque seemed the only one to have survived the earthquake intact, perhaps because of the massive tree trunks that supported its roof. Looking up at the ceiling, I saw the beautiful religious paintings and trompe l’oeil that covered it. The altars were made of intricately carved dark wood, decorated with saints, angels, flowers, and sea shells.
The risen Christ.
In front were two carrozas covered with colorful flowers — one of the risen Christ and the other of Mary – made ready for the salubong next day.
I felt saddest at Dauis, recalling how beautiful and vibrant the church was when I first visited it many years ago. It was empty now, with scaffolding covering the altar. Even the miraculous water well at the foot of the altar was covered. Outside, however, a temporary structure was set up, beautifully decorated with an angelic scene for the risen Christ.
Getting ready for the salubong
At the patio behind the church, several carrozas bearing saints were being readied: San Juan Evangelista, San Pedro, Santa Maria Magdalena, Santa Cleofe, Santa Jacobe, Santa Salome, among others. As it was well past 1pm, we decided to have lunch at the Dawis Café, and sample their Ube Kinampay Souffle. It was divine, well worth waiting for.
Despite the sad state of the heritage churches we visited, I observed parishioners busy cleaning the temporary structures built for the celebration of masses and decorating carriages for the processions that would take place for Easter. In some of them, parishioners were practicing for the Easter Vigil Mass and the salubong that would follow. I realized that no matter what hardship Filipinos go through, they keep their faith steadfastly burning. I felt humbled, suddenly missing the Lenten services I would serve at back in our parish.
The beautiful expanse of sand and sea and sky.
Each afternoon Dada and I would walk along the beach, determined to complete our exercise goal of 10,000 steps per day target. We saw lovers embracing and frolicking on the beach, families sharing a meals, fisherfolk bringing their boats in, teenagers pitting their strength against each other in a tug-of-war, and children playing with their dogs.
Arm in arm, we walked, sharing family stories of days long past, loves gained and lost, highs and lows, always ending with the realization that no matter how far you travel away from home, you come back to the people you love.
Saturday night, we decided to go to the Bohol Bee Farm. As there was no van available, we went by tricycle, while Bea, Cara and Ramon rode the motorbike. Bea had always regaled us with stories of her vacation there after college graduation, how serene it was, and how good the food was. She was spot on. We enjoyed the delicious dinner, starting with crisp cassava chips paired with a pesto vinaigrette and warm squash bread with a duo of honey mango and malunggay jam. The organic flower salad, clear vegetable soup, honeyed ribs, red rice, and fresh cassava lumpia were all delicious, as was the homemade malunggay ice-cream in cassava cone that I had after. Before leaving the Bee Farm, we visited their little store for some pasalubong, and bought some honey for home. Easter morning, we spent cooling ourselves in the pool, and enjoying each other’s company. At last, Niccolo left his room and joined us. Before we knew it, it was time to leave for the airport and return to Manila, but not before finally trying out the carabao swing by the entrance.
Once again, I was just a little girl having fun on the swing.
As I swung back and forth, I thanked the Lord for the long weekend spent with family. Often, we are too busy with the daily grind of work and school commitments to spend time catching up. It was indeed a lovely time to bond, not just with my children but with my mom. Salamat, Lord!
When I hear the word rodeo, I immediately think of Texas. Mike, my late husband, hailed from Texas, and we had a chance to see a rodeo several years back. When Maloli Espinosa-Supnet invited me to the Rodeo Masbateño, I readily agreed, curious to learn about the Filipino version of this Texan tradition. Little did I know that I was in for an exciting experience.
My flight was to leave at 5:00 am Tuesday, which meant I had to be up by 2:30 am to get dressed for the airport. And since I finished packing at 1:00 am, I literally had just an hour’s wink before my fellow-traveler Andrè Kahn picked me up with cowboys hats in tow. Having served for several decades on the Advertising Board of the Philippines and the Kapisanan ng mga Brodkaster ng Pilipinas in different capacities as chairman, vice-chairman, president and director, Andrè was close to Maloli who owned The Ranch 95.9, the Sound of Masbate.
BoyP and Andre at the rodeo grandstand.
With us on the plane ride to Masbate was another industry friend of Andrè’s, Boy Pangilinan. A major sponsor of the Rodeo, BoyP took care of marketing and promotions for the event. Listening to him talk passionately about the Rodeo, I could see his eyes light up. Here was a man who loved Masbate and its Rodeo, despite the fact that he is not from there. An independent media buyer/planner, BoyP has a travel blog called boyplakwatsa.com. BoyP’s passion is to travel to all the islands of the Philippines, even to the remotest barrios, and share the beauty of the country in his blog. Needless to say, boyplakwatsa.com is quite popular with nigh over 48,000 followers.
Andre and I together with Gidget and her children Lian and Marcus in front of a storefront.
Arriving at the airport, we were greeted by a group of cowboys and cowgirls line dancing at the arrival area. Waiting outside was Maloli who quickly whisked us to her home for breakfast and to get dressed for the rodeo opening and the grand parade. There I met Maloli’s husband, General Mark Supnet, her brother Mark and his lovely wife Gidget Cabreza-Espinosa and their two younger children, Lian and Marcus. We hied off to witness the Grand Rodeo Festival Parade.
Hundreds of cowboys joined the parade, some mounted on horses and others walking.General Mark Supnet rides by with a smile.
Watching the parade, my excitement mounted as ranch owners, cowboys and cowgirls rode by on horses, followed by representatives from various organizations, all dressed to the nines in western attire. I noticed that many of the cowboys rode the horses confidently, using only blankets to cushion the ride. Mark Supnet and Mark Espinosa rode by on huge, stately horses.
The bull float bearing the RMI organizers.
Maloli, being part of the
festival organizers, Rodeo Masbateno, Inc. (RMI) rode with the other board members on a float designed like a bull. They were all wearing colorful Mexican hats.
There were cowboys displaying their prowess in whiplashing and lassoing, pretty ladies marching down the street, and smartly-dressed drum and bugle bands playing behind them. Storefronts along the main street were decorated in theme with the rodeo.
The day before the trip, Andrè had told me casually that we were guests of honor, and that we had to make a speech. I thought he was pulling my leg, but when I saw the empty chairs on the grandstand with our names on them as guests-of-honor, my heart sank. A speech without sleep? Are you kidding? What do I say?
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A cowboy on a horse bearing the Philippine flag signalled the singing of the Philippine national anthem. The organizers gave each of the VIP guests a pigeon to hold and release at the same time together with 100 other pigeons. Anxiety mounted as the person handing the pigeons got closer to me. Being deathly afraid of all feathered birds as a result of a childhood trauma, I whispered frantically to Andrè that I just couldn’t do it. He said it was OK and handed me the camera to document the release. It was a magnificent sight to behold.
Garbed in Western attire with Boy P, Andre, Mark and Gidget at the Rodeo.
We shared the VIP seats with the Rodeo Masbateño Inc. President Judge Manuel Sese; local government officials: the governor, his wife the vice-governor, the city mayor; two congresswomen; and three senatorial candidates: Roman Romulo, Rissa Hontiveros and Sherwin Gatchalian. Even Korina Sanchez-Roxas, wife of Liberal Party Standard bearer Mar Roxas, showed up. Evidently it was campaign season. I admired the organizers when I learned they had limited the politicians’ speeches to a minute each. The rodeo festival was not meant to be a political rally, they stressed.
True enough, I was called to the podium to give a speech, and I decided to focus on the benefits tourism can bring to Masbate especially with regard to job creation and inclusive growth. I urged Masbateños to promote not just the Rodeo but the province’s other attractions like its marine sanctuaries and beautiful beaches, cautioned them to take care of the environment to ensure sustainability, and invited everyone to become ambassadors and promote the province by posting positive news daily about the Masbate on their social media networks like Facebook, Instagram and Twitter.
Andre Kahn congratulates Masbatenos on putting their rodeo on the map and attracting international media attention
Up next was Andrè, and he congratulated the organizers on placing the Masbate Rodeo Festival not just on the Philippine map but on the international map of rodeos. When Andrè said that the Masbate Annual Rodeo has become as popular as the Sinulog of Cebu, the Maskara of Bacolod, and the Panagbenga of Baguio, the crowd cheered. Since Andrè had been visiting Masbate since the early 90s when there were still no hotels, he spoke from the heart when he observed that indeed Masbate has changed and that the Rodeo has branded Masbate as the cattle capital of the country. Strong words from a pillar of the advertising broadcasting industry!
The competing teams hailing from all over the Philippines were then called in and took their oath of sportsmanship. The teams consisted of professionals and vet med students who would compete in eight main events: cattle lassoing wrestling on foot, steer lassoing on horseback, steer wrestling from horseback, casting down, two-person carambola, four-person carambola, bull riding, and load carrying. It was interesting to note that teams included women. Inclusiveness and diversity was in force. Other events included bull riding for women, team penning and bronco riding.
Ladies first with Congresswoman Rissa Hontiveros and me branding the rodeo bull.
The opening ceremonies ended with the ceremonial branding of the rodeo bull. Praying that it would not be too painful for the bull, Rissa Hontiveros and I held the branding rod and pressed it in the bull’s haunch. It was Andrè’s turn next to brand the bull.
I learned that the Rodeo Festival upholds Republic Act 8485 or the Animal Welfare Act of 1998, which calls for the safety of animals. There is even a resident certified rodeo veterinarian, Hernando Durongon who looks after the safety of the participating animals. Participating cattle are lent by ranch owners and RMI is responsible for their well being during the festival.
Bronco Rider
Later that day, we were lucky to watch the rodeo from the media bleachers where we were closer to the action. There were bronco rides where the rider had to stay eight seconds on the horse, waving his hand without touching his head. There was a team competition where cowboys on foot had to lasso a bull and bring it to the
Carambolla
ground, then tie up its legs. And another where cowboys on horseback had to do the same. There were heart thumping moments when the bulls were huge and mean, and the cowboys fell and were seemingly trampled or kicked by the bull. And other funny moments when the bull refused to play and just lay down by itself, prompting the cowboys to coax it up.
Wednesday at 9am was the cattle run. We went to the starting point in the midst of town where about 30 heads of cattle would be released with cowboys herding them. The streets were packed with Masbateños eager to watch the run. I asked if there was any risk to the spectators seeing how some of the bulls yesterday were pretty mad and charged the cowboys. The organizers told us the cowboys would make sure we were unharmed. Nevertheless, we marked a quick getaway path just in case a rogue bull went berserk. It was so exciting I forgot to take a picture of their release, intent on saving my hide. What a coward I was!
Waiting for the cattle run to come by, safely behind the grilled balcony.
We moved to another location for the second release where over a 100 heads of cattle would be released. This time, however, we were safely behind an elevated and grilled veranda with the doctors from the Department of Health. Best company to be with. Maloli, on the other hand, proved to be the real cowgirl as she clambered fearlessly over an open pick-up to better see the cattle run.
The Filipino sense of humor spilled out as people awaited the arrival of the cattle. Here was a cowboy galloping down the street as if a whole tribe of Indians were after him. There was another elderly man, possibly in his 80s, doing cartwheels on the street. Another cowhand sat on his haunches, rolling his lasso. We, on the other hand, took selfies with the doctors, another Filipino tradition.
And then the cattle arrived with cowboys. What a sight to behold! I felt like I was in a Western movie, except this was the real thing. The cattle run was over in a matter of minutes, but not before some decided to make a detour and enter the side streets, with the cowhands running after them to herd them back out into the street. We were laughing as they were brought back out. In one case, the cowhand came out riding the bull, drawing laughter from the crowd. Maloli recounted how in one instance a bull entered a BIR office and refused to leave. It probably wanted to see Henares!
After the cattle run, we proceeded to the rodeo arena where the cattle were kept for the herding competition. It was interesting how there seemed to be leaders in the pack. When they moved, the rest followed. Most of the cattle stayed together as a herd, but there were one or two loners that stayed apart, and another lazy one that refused to stay under the sun, and kept close to the shaded area. Could be a senior citizen, we surmised.
A hut on stilts. Such a serene view of the sea
Late afternoon, we decided to take a break from the rodeo and go swimming. Mark and Gidget brought us to Buntod Marine Sanctuary. Buntod is actually a powdery white sandbar on one end and a mangrove on the other. In the midst is a house on stilts where people could eat the picnic food they brought, and rent snorkelling and dive equipment.
The place was packed with people frolicking on the sandbar and swimming. Teenagers were playing patintero, fathers were teaching their young how to swim, and mothers were packing as the sun was setting soon. We noticed one mother scrubbing her caldero with sand while her little daugher watched. And because we are all Filipinos, most everyone had their mobile phones out taking photos of the fun they were having.
The view of the setting sun from the mangroves.
We swam in the crystal clear blue water, and walked along the mangroves. It was so peaceful by the mangroves, a popular date place for lovers according to Mark. A flock of birds flew in formation, momentarily disturbing the calm. We marvelled at the fruit of the mangrove tree, like a string bean growing out of a chico with horns, as Andrè described it.
Soon the other boats had departed and we were the only ones left. Except for the gentle lapping of the waves against the stilts, all was quiet. We feasted on turon with langka and cassava boiled in coconut milk while watching the sun set, and the colors of the sky change from blue to pink to grey. It was magical!
Thursday morning, we set off for the 500-ha ML Ranch in Punta Tigbao with Mark, Gidget and their children. ML stands for Moises and Ludivina, the parents of Mark and Maloli. Moises was the former governor of Masbate. His youngest son Mark now managed the ranch.
Mark and Gidget Espinosa with Lian and Marcus on the motorized banca as we headed for Sitio Punta Tigbao.
To get to Sitio Punta Tigbao, we first took a 45-minute car ride to Calasuche, then take another 45-minute boat ride on a banca with bamboo outriggers. The waters at first were calm, but became rather choppy as we went further out to sea. White caps appeared on the waves, a sure sign that the waters were rough. Pretty soon, my denim pants and rubber shoes were drenched.
Disembarking at Sitio Pinta Tigbao, we toured the 100-families strong fishing community. Mark explained that his father had allowed the community to settle there. It was a self-sustaining community, with a small chapel, an elementary school from kinder to grade six, a basketball court, and a smaller plaza. Funds came from a project called ‘Piso sa Kilo’ which the Espinosas started. For every kilo of fish caught and sold, the fishermen donated P1 to the fund.
Bounty from the sea.
It was clear that Mark was respected and loved by the residents of the community. The men approached him for advice, guidance and orders, speaking to him in gentle voices, and the women smiled and greeted us. We walked to the fenced cattle corral and climbed the raised hut in its midst. There we enjoyed a sumptuous meal prepared by the villagers: freshly steamed crabs, stuffed crabs, crispy fried dried squid, and piping hot rice.
ML cattle in the corral.
Grateful to get out of the scorching hot sun, we watched as the cattle were herded into the corral. Soon the corral was full with about 400 head of cattle. It was interesting to watch them as there appeared to be some alpha males in the group that would lead the herd. Inside the corral, two bulls challenged each other. Calves followed their moms, while their moms showed their maternal instinct as they waited to ensure their calves were following them. Mark showed us a contraption shaped like a giant inverted forked tong that would keep the cattle still while they were branded or given vitamins. There were narrow walkways between fences that would allow cattle to pass one at a time. I caught myself counting the cattle as they passed out of the corral to pasture.
The children of Sitio Punta Tigbao, collecting candies brought by Mark EspinosaThat’s me throwing candies up in the air for the children.
The children garbed in colorful clothes followed us, just like they did in the fairytale, the Pied Piper of Hamlyn. They climbed trees and perched on the fence, watching from a distance and waiting patiently for us to leave the cattle corral. No wonder they appeared excited as we learned that each time he visited the ranch, Mark brought candies for the children. This time around, he had a carton full of assorted colorful candies, and he kindly asked his Lian, Marcus and me to throw the the candies in the air for the children to run after. Oh, were they happy! And so were we! I made a mental note to include the 350 children in our yearend My Dream in a Shoebox campaign that provides school supplies for children in shoeboxes wrapped in festive paper.
Soon it was time to board the motorized banca and return to Masbate City. This time around, the boatride was fast and uneventful. Andrè explained that this was because we were going with the tide.
Line Dancing
Back at the Rodeo Arena, we watched the Street Barn Dance Competition as 14 teams performed to the rolicking anthem of Rodeo Masbateño. The creativity of the teams was obvious in their costumes, props and dance moves.
We retired to the Espinosa home to have dinner with the family and pack for our early morning plane ride the next day.
With the Espinosas at their home. Behind is a beautiful painting of their father Governor Moises riding on a horse with the cattle behind.
I am so grateful for the warm hospitality of the Espinosa family, especially Maloli and her husband Mark, Mark and his wife Gidget, and Carmen, Maloli’s sister-in-law who prepared a delicious sansrival for dessert. They all made our visit extra special and took such great care of us. I enjoyed the friendly family repartee during meal times, their delicious spread at the long wooden dining table, and the serious discussions as to how tourism can be developed in Masbate. I greatly admire them for the passion they have to improve the lives of Masbateños.
Looking back on the past three days, I can see clearly that Masbate has a lot of potential for tourism, especially with its beautiful beaches and its ranch life. While the Rodeo Festival brings in as many as 50,000 visitors as shared by the Department of Tourism representative I chatted with, Masbate can ensure a more sustainable tourism industry by developing more attractions. All it needs is a few enterprising people to package and promote the ranch experience and allow tourists to learn about the customs and lifestyle of ranchers, meet and talk to real-life cowboys, eat what they eat and live as they do. And while they are at it, enjoy the pristine sand and clear blue waters of Masbate, and marvel at the rich marine life it harbours in its corals. And once a year, give everyone unforgettable memories of the Wild, Wild West. I vowed to go back next year, with my children in tow, so they too can experience the unique and authentic Rodeo Masbateño.
TeamAsia founder and president, trainer, event organizer, food and art lover. President, Philippine Association of Convention/Exhibition Organizers and Supplier Philippines · teamasia.com
