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Remembering the Iturralde Sisters

November 13, 2016 administrator 6 Comments

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), The Profile, 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.

Business, Children, Corporate Social Responsibility, Differences, Food, Governance, Health, Life, Resilience, Women

Brewing@AIM with VP Leni Robredo

September 1, 2016 administrator

Yesterday morning, I attended the launch of Brewing@AIM: Conversations with Thought Leaders with VP Leni Robredo as its very first guest speaker. Truth to tell, I was a bit miffed when I arrived at 8:45 am only to learn that the keynote speaker was scheduled to arrive at 10:30 am. It was nice though that there were some early birds like me, and so I joined the table of my friend, Yoling Sevilla, CEO of The Leather Collection, Inc. Yoling and I are both board members of the Women’s Business Council (WomenBizPH). Yoling invited me to her company’s 25th anniversary celebration at AIM on September 16, and reminded me that my late husband Mike who was then VP for External Affairs at AIM had given The Leather Collection its first big break with the AIM diary.

Yoling is one admirable woman, an entrepreneur par excellence, and is currently doing wonderful work with the GREAT Women project. She kidded me about her being the youngest graduate at our table, having finished the 18-month part-time program, Master in Entrepreneurship (ME). A relatively new offering of the Asian Institute of Management, ME is designed to help busy entrepreneurs grow their business, develop practical skills and realistic approaches to value creation and growth, and balance both personal and business goals.

Yoling and I were seated with AIM’s first MBM graduates from 1970 and 1971: Rene Sunico, Butch Bautista, Jun Orobia, and Chito Francisco. The talk around the table revolved around giving back to the community, particularly those who were devastated by super typhoon Yolanda. Rene shared that Republic Cement had built 25-sqm hyperbolic paraboloid houses in partnership with Habitat for Humanity in Daanbantayan, Cebu. These houses were made to deflect the fiercest winds and withstand strong earthquakes, he said. Curious, I tried to remember my highschool geometry lessons and imagine how a hyperbolic paraboloid house would look. Rene tried to explain that the outside was pointed and the inside was round. Aha! So, it’s an igloo on the inside and a pyramid on the outside, I said aloud. To satisfy my curiosity, I asked him to send me photos of the houses, which he kindly did.

Promptly at 10:30am, Vice President Leni Robredo arrived. VP Leni also holds the office of chair of Housing and Urban Development Coordinating Council (HUDCC). She spoke quite passionately about her mission to eradicate poverty. Promising to make HUDCC a listening office, VP Leni shared her experience of traveling to the poorest and farthest barangays to meet and listen to Filipinos at the fringes of society. She admitted that working at the grassroots level was not the happy field trips and photo opportunities people thought them to be, but actually tense situations, mostly humid and tiring, where she met people who are angry, hungry and desperate for lack of opportunity. It was interesting that VP Leni called them partners in development rather than mere beneficiaries, giving them a more active role in improving their situation.

Citing the economic results posted two weeks ago where the Philippines hit 7% GDP growth, besting China’s 6%, VP Leni observed that this top line growth has put the country on the global map, and that now all eyes are trained on the Philippines. And yet, despite this economic boom, the inequality is startling with 52% of the national income belonging to the Richest, the top 20% Filipinos, while only a miniscule 4.45% of national income goes to the Poorest, the bottom 20% of Filipinos.

VP Leni pointed out that while inclusive growth is critical for the poor, it was also necessary so that businesses could grow sustainably. Admitting that government cannot do it alone, and that her office has a miniscule budget, she asked the AIM alumni to lend their support and help eradicate poverty through five main areas: 1) housing, 2) public health and hunger, 3) rural development and food security, 4) education, and women economic empowerment.

I was surprised to learn that there is a 5.7M total housing backlog, which translates to building 2,602 houses per day in the next six years. I nudged Rene Sunico and said this was right up his alley. But building houses alone will not solve the problem, VP Leni stressed. A whole eco-system must be built with livelihood opportunites, proper sewerage and drainage, security of tenure, schools, hospitals, parks, children’s playgrounds. HUDCC is also making it easier for people to have homes, by reducing paperwork for socialized housing from 27 to 9, and reducing processing time from two years to 15-30 days.

On the health front, VP Leni said there are 3.5M Filipino children suffering from stunting. Unless children are given better nutrition, a decade from now, the workforce will be weak and unfit for work. The objective is to improve nutritional intake of children in first 1,000 days of life from womb to two years. She cited the work that the Zuellig Foundation is undertaking to help address hunger and proper nutrition, and that of Seaoil in creating an Information Management System tool that allows data gathering of where the need is.

Rural development and food security can be addressed with Impact Investment. VP Leni cited the example of Jollibee Foundation that is helping small farming communities become entrepreneurs by teaching them to grow onions and sell them. This being a transition year in education with the K to12, the focus should be on career planning, skills development, and job matching. VP Leni shared that the aspiration of most high school seniors is to learn baking. Obviously, there is a great Disconnect as graduates need to have the right skills to enter the workforce. She urged LGUs to created a database of existing jobs that could be accessed to fight underemployment.

Women economic empowerment, VP Leni’s last initiative, is exactly what the Women’s Business Council (WomenBizPH) is advocating for, from livelihood training to mentoring, micro-finance and access to market. WomenBizPH has been in the forefront of organizing or collaborating with likeminded stakeholders in policy advocacy for women economic empowerment. For example, WomenBizPH served as the private sector representative during the last APEC Women in the Economy Forum held in Manila, as well as the lead partner of the Development Bank of the Philippines (DBP) in the Inclusive Lending Window for Aspiring Women Entrepreneurs (ILAW) program that seeks to provide access to finance for women entrepreneurs. Other regular programs include quarterly WomenBizPH talks and bi-annual conferences, network and business matching, mentorship for entrepreneurial development and research on entrepreneurship.

VP Leni summed up her speech with three important takeaways learned during HUDCC’s listening and environmental scanning stage. First, the voices of communities must be heard; we must listen and find out what they need. Second, LGUs have a huge role to play to make poverty reduction a reality. Finally, there must be metrics that measure outcomes and not activities. She urged the private sector to work hand in hand with government to ensure inclusiveness for all. I trust that her words fell on fertile ears at AIM and that six years from now, poverty will be a thing of the past. One thing I am sure of, she can count on WomenBizH as a partner in development.

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Rodeo Masbateño: Philippines’ Wild Wild East

April 16, 2016 administrator 4 Comments

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.

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.

OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA — 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?

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.

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.

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.

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.

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

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!

13001295_10154280627934672_2210111524426646609_n — 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.

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.

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 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.

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.

Death, Differences, Discipline, Faith, Friendship, God, Goodbyes, Health, Life, Principles, Resilience, Work

Godspeed, Laloy!

March 18, 2016 administrator

On the way to a meeting in Makati today, I was shocked to learn that a friend, Hilarion “Laloy” Guia had passed away early this morning due to cardiac arrest. Memories began flooding in of how I first met Laloy. I rued that I had not been able to catch up with him the few times he was in Manila. He had called me a few times saying he was in Manila and asking if I could meet up, but this always happened while I was having an event.

I hear that his remains are in Palawan. His granddaughter had planned to bring him to Manila for further medical attention, but unfortunately, he was not able to recover.

In his memory, I post a reflection I wrote in January 2012 after meeting him. Here goes…

Overcoming the Biblical Disease

(Palawan. January 26, 2012) I met a most extraordinary gentleman at the First Leprosy Stakeholders Symposium we organized for the Department of Health and Novartis Sustainable Development Foundation on January 25 at the Legend Hotel in Palawan. Hilarion Guia, Laloy for short, was a quiet, unassuming man but when he spoke to the delegates, he exuded a powerful, larger than life figure.

Here was a man, orphaned at three, diagnosed with leprosy like five other siblings in a brood of nine. Because of his intense desire to study and the promise of a cure, he agreed to be separated from his family in Batangas and to go and live with other afflicted persons at the Culion Leprosarium in Palawan when he was but eight years of age.

Learn he did, under the tutelage of the Religious Congregation of the Society of Jesus, and the sisters of St. Paul. But the promise of a cure did not. Slowly but surely, he suffered the harrowing pains and the disfigurement of the dreaded Biblical disease. Open wounds and nodules made their appearance. But more than the intense physical suffering was the emotional and mental upheaval of its social stigma.

But Laloy was no ordinary person. He believed that everyone is born equal and can accomplish great achievements, given equal opportunities. After graduating from high school, he transferred to Tala in Caloocan where he pursued a college degree in education. He then returned to Culion and taught for the next four decades, helping children similarly afflicted expand their minds and believe in themselves.

Laloy dreamed of a day when Culion and its residents would no longer be spoken of as the Isle of the Living Dead. He sought the help of local politicians such as the late Speaker of the House Ramon V. Mitra and worked tirelessly to have Culion recognized as a municipality, and for its residents to have the right to suffrage. His efforts were not in vain, and in May 1995, Culion became a municipality. He ran for mayor in the local elections against nine able-bodied healthy opponents, and bested them to become the first Mayor of Culion.

When Novartis introduced the drug MDT in the mid-80s, his physician Dr. Art Cunanan asked him to undergo the chemotherapy. He refused at first, believing it was a just a waste of time. Over the years, he had undergone different treatments hoping to be cured of the dreaded disease, only to have his hopes dashed time and again.

Laloy was ecstatic when a year after taking MDT he was pronounced free of leprosy. If only it had been available when he was a child! Then he would not have to bear the physical marks the disease has left. But it was wonderful news for the residents of Culion. Today, not a single case of leprosy exists on the island. Culion stands as a testament to the country’s success to eradicate the disease.

I feel blessed to have had this opportunity to meet Laloy, and to learn about the tireless efforts of the Department of Health, their selfless medical staff and health workers, and the generosity of Novartis which provides the MDT for free for leprosy patients, and who together with the World Health Organization leads the global drive towards a world without leprosy.

The symposium strove to get the different stakeholders, which includes the country’s sanitaria, NGOs, the church, DepEd, DOLE, DILG, media and the like, to address the burning issues in disease eradication and management. There is much to be done, and those present committed to join the drive to fight leprosy. I’m glad I had the chance to listen and learn, and contribute to the meeting.

Some things stand out from that symposium. One, that this dreaded disease is curable with MDT. Two, that education and information dissemination are necessary so that early detection and treatment are possible. Three, that the loss of dignity, and the pain of isolation and rejection inflicted on those affected are so much more than any physical pain. And that we all can contribute in our own way to erasing the social stigma of this disease, simply by getting the word out. I’m starting with this.

I salute Laloy for proving to all of us that “anyone with leprosy, even with severe deformities, can perform with excellence and unquestionable efficiency, just as good as or even better than those with sound health.” He said that “Charity begins at home, and that the initiative to overcome the disease must first come from the victim.” These words ring true for all of us, whenever we are faced with problems that seem insurmountable.

Thanks for the reminder, Laloy! God bless you always!

Cancer, Death, Family, God, Health, Life, Love, Work

Five Days in 2012

July 22, 2015 administrator 4 Comments

I was cleaning up my soft files just now, and came across a five-day journal written 20 days after we rushed Mike to Asian Hospital. I can never forget that day, the 10th of October, 2012. After a leisurely lunch at Palms Country Club, we returned to the office to work. Mike came out of the toilet trembling and ashen-faced. He was unable to pee. At the hospital, they put a cateter and fresh blood came out. They admitted him for observation and a biopsy. More than a week later, we were told he had cancer. Life as I knew it stopped.

Those were tumultous days. We didn’t know where and who to run to for advice on how best to handle the situation, what kind of doctors we should approach, what treatment to take. His urologist Dr. JV Prodigalidad recommended that Mike have a colonoscopy to determine if the cancer had spread. We followed his advice and Mike was admitted to St. Luke’s Hospital for the procedure. Meanwhile, the biopsy samples were sent for additional testing.

Everything was a blur, except for one thing that was crystal clear. I knew I had to be strong for Mike, and for the family. Bea was in Boston taking up her masters, Cara in Boracay working, and Niccolo was in 4^th year high school. I had a business to run, client commitments to fulfill, and employees who relied on us. I held on to God’s hand tightly.

I cry as I re-read what I had written almost three years ago.

October 30

St. Lukes. Mike has his scheduled colonoscopy with Dr. Cua. I wait at the reception area, working on the IOS final report. A nurse comes and hands me Mike’s watch and wedding ring. I look at my phone, and it’s JV Prodigalidad apologizing that he has not been feeling well and was thus not able to respond to my text messages. I ask him if he already has the results of the bone scan and the additional steins. He says yes, and that it is not good. He says, “Stage Four, Monette.” The world stops turning. I ask him how much time I have. He says he doesn’t know, and says he prefers to tell Mike himself at his clinic. I break down and cry, with everyone looking at me, some with sympathetic eyes.

Then, Karla calls to say there’s a problem with the office doors and no one can go in. She hears my breaking voice and asks me why. I can’t talk, except to say I will send Jonathan with my keys. Jonathan arrives, saying he doesn’t need to go to the office anymore because the staff has solved the problem. I ask him to watch my things, and go to the chapel to pray and sob uncontrollably. While there, my phone rings and Jonathan says they want me to see the doctors who are working on Mike’s colonoscopy.

With my heart in my throat, I run back to where Mike is. They let me in to the operating room, and I see Mike on his side, peacefully sleeping on the operating table, while holding on to the bed’s bar, with a team of doctors and nurses surrounding him. Dr. Cua shows me a cyst on the screen and says he will excise it and have it biopsied. He says other than small ones, this was the only one they found. I beg to stay, but am told to leave and just wait until the procedure is over. I couldn’t help myself but bend over and kiss Mike, to the doctors’ surprise.

When Mike was done, we have a quick lunch at Becky’s Kitchen. Oh, how my heart ached while I sat with Mike. In the car, I check my mail and notice an email from Myla Reyes asking Sab and me to attend an exhibitors’ meeting in the afternoon. I call the office to check on things, and talk to Sab who is at her wits’ end because HIMOAP had scheduled the meeting suddenly for 3pm and she had tons of other work to do for the event. I told her I would handle the meeting and to send me the report. I then asked Jonathan to drop me off at BPAP, to bring Mike home to rest, and to get the biopsy slides for Arnel.

At BPAP, I worked furiously at the TeamAsia Room on the IOS report. Raymond was coming in at 2pm and I intended to discuss the financials with him before the HIMOSC exhibitor meeting. All the while, there was a big gaping hole in my heart. How can anyone not see it bleed?

I called Arnel and told him what I had learned from JV. I told him I didn’t know how to tell Mike. He said JV should do it, not me. I called JV’s secretary and she set us up for 8pm.

October 31

Mike is set to meet Dr. Gary Lorenzo, the oncologist recommended by our friend, Dr. Arnel Diaz. I want to go with Mike but can’t because I have a Handling Difficult People seminar with nine people signed up. It is the most difficult teaching assignment I have ever had to do.

November 1

At St. Luke’s again for Mike’s CT scan by 7:45am. The test is scheduled at 10am, but he has to start taking barium two hours before. Poor Mike hasn’t had anything to eat or drink since last night. I bring the slides to Pathology for a second reading by Dr. Zamuco. The test ends by 11 and we go to have a hearty breakfast at Bizu. A quick trip back home and we leave for our hideaway in Alfonso with Niccolo and Bugsy who is beside himself with excitement at the prospect of a car ride. At Alfonso, Mike is so tired, he falls asleep almost the whole afternoon and night. I break down while preparing dinner, burning a panful of garlic and onions. I watch him sleep and feel that he is slipping away.

November 3

We’re on the way back to Southbay with Niccolo and Bugsy. Mike insists on driving the E150. We did a quick stop at Mahogany Market so I could buy two guyabano trees that I intend to plant in Southbay for their leaves, as well as some herbs for cooking. Then Niccolo decides he wants buko tart at Rowena’s. Next stop: Robinson Nuvali for a pit stop.

For lunch, I whipped up a quick creamy mushroom pasta. Mike was tired from the long drive, and settled himself in front of the TV. Niccolo has been asking us to put up the Christmas décor early this year, and since Cara is arriving on the 16^th, I decided to go ahead and put up the Christmas tree. After opening the boxes, I discover that only half the rice lights were working and my lovely angel was broken. Niccolo didn’t want to go with me to the store to get lights. I made a few calls to friends, but no one was free. I found myself going to my neighbor Lily White, who very kindly agreed to go with me. We prayed together and I felt at peace waiting for her in her quiet prayer room.

When I got home, I noticed that Mike was quieter than usual. Over dinner, Niccolo was bugging us to allow him to go to Boracay in April with his batchmates. Mike said we need to know if there will be parents around and who he would be with, as he would most probably not be in any condition to go. When Niccolo left the table, Mike told me that I should be prepared in case things did not work out as we wanted. I could no longer hold back my tears, and I broke down in front of Mike. Oh, God, why? Why?

It’s been three years, and yet re-reading this journal, it feels like yesterday. The pain is always there, sometimes numbed, at other times, palpably fresh and throbbing. I read somewhere that pain is the price one pays for having loved. Yes, it is a steep price, but I am forever grateful to have loved and been loved by Mike.

Business, competence, Confidence, Health, Menopause, Women, Work

Boosting Women’s Health, Powering Women’s Hearts and Minds

July 7, 2015 administrator 1 Comment

They say people die of a broken heart. I must be walking dead then since it’s happened twice in the last three years. Two deaths in a row is more than one heart can handle.

Seriously though, I was intrigued when the topic of the Women’s Business Council’s WomenBizPH Talks last week bannered “Boosting Women’s Health, Powering Women’s Hearts and Minds.” WBC was honored to have two women leaders as guest speakers.

First was prominent cardiologist Dr. Maria Adelaida “Leni” Iboleon-Dy, chair of the Philippine Heart Association Council on Women’s Cardiovascular Health. As Mylene Abiva, president of Felta Multi-Media Inc., introduced Leni’s many accomplishments including being Assistant Medical Director for Medical Education at St. Luke’s Medical Center, Associate Dean for Clinical Sciences, amongst a long list of positions held and honors received, what struck me most was here was a tall, gracious and beautiful woman who has made it to the top in a field dominated by men. What an outstanding testament to womanhood! And instead of just resting on her laurels, she has been leading the campaign to help other women take charge of their health.

Takotsubo Cardiomyopathy. That’s what they call the broken-heart syndrome, Leni shared. Most often seen in post-menopausal women, Takotsubo is brought about by recent severe emotional or physical stress. Emotional stress can be triggered by the death of a loved one, relationship break-ups, arguments with a spouse, or constant anxiety due to financial problems. Physical stress examples include acute asthma, surgery, chemotherapy and stroke.

First studied in Japan, this stress-induced cardiomyopathy, according to Wiki, is characterized by the bulging of the left ventricular apex with a preserved base, making the heart look like a “tako tsubo” or octopus pot. The symptoms are similar to a heart attack, and can be lethal. Leni said this could clear up in four months if treated right.

In her talk entitled “Why hearts need to mend: Yes, broken hearts can kill!,” Leni urged the guests to take care of their health, as heart disease is the #1 leading cause of death in women regardless of race or ethnicity. In fact, she said one of three women die of heart disease, compared to one of 30 who die of cancer. Now those are alarming figures.

Leni is on a passionate quest to wake up women to the reality that cardiovascular disease (CVD) is a major public health issue for women, and to get them to take the necessary steps to lead healthy lifestyles as a preventive measure. Because women have a higher tolerance for pain (due to childbirth), women are more difficult to diagnose, and are more likely not to get appropriate treatment following a first heart attack. As Leni said, we tend to “tough it out” more than men. Women also have different symptoms from men, ranging from a “doomed” feeling, or being “suddenly very tired,” vomiting or having indigestion. Now, who of us haven’t felt these before? By this time, I was already beginning to feel hypochondriac.

Leni categorized the risk factors for CVD into what can be changed and what cannot. The bad news is that we can’t do anything about heredity, about being women, or about getting older, especially when we hit menopause. The good news is we can adopt healthier lifestyles by quitting smoking (and staying away from second hand smoke), eating healthier, exercising, controlling our weight gain, and taking the necessary medication for conditions like high blood cholestrol, high blood pressure, and diabetes.

Another wake-up call was the definition of hypertension in adult women. Normal blood pressure should be less than 120 systolic (higher number) and less than 80 diastolic (lower number). So if you have a blood pressure of 120 over 80, you are already pre-hypertensive.

Leni recommended that women do vigorous activity like brisk walking, running or swmming or even dancing for at least 30 minutes, six days a week to get their hearts and lungs in top condition. I guess I should start doing Zumba soon. Either that or start running.

As for nutrition, Leni cautioned the group to stay away from vein-clogging cholesterol-rich food and fad diets that promise quick results. This prompted a lot of fond ribbing of fellow WBC member Evelyn Singson, Chairman and President of Philippine Hotelier’s Inc. for serving kare-kare with bagoong for our lunch at Dusit Thani. A healthy, balanced diet will give the best results, Leni said. And a glass of red wine a day will keep heart attacks away (my line, not hers).

Unfortunately, we cannot stop the clock, and menopause will eventually catch up on all of us. This greatly increases the risk of CVD. So, we need to manage our stress levels if we want to be around to enjoy our children and grandchildren.

Another casualty of ageing is our minds. “My yesterdays are disappearing, my tomorrows are uncertain, so what do I live for? I live for each day. I live in the moment.” Quoting neuroscientist and author of Still Alice, our second speaker Gina Lumauig, Director of Communications of Neeuro Pte. Ltd., Singapore, highlighted the importance of early diagnosis and early intervention to close the treatment gap for dementia.

Dementia, a syndrome caused by different brain illnesses, affects memory, thinking, behavior and the ability to perform everyday functions. There are an estimated 44.4 million people worldwide suffering from dementia. Meanwhile, according to the Dementia Society of the Philippines, an estimated 200,000 Filipinos suffer from dementia, with many more having to live with the problems the illness brings, not just as patients but as caregivers. This I know from experience as my late maiden aunt suffered from dementia in her senior years. Little by little, dementia wormed itself into her brilliant mind destroying her ability to function normally. It was difficult for all of us seeing her deteriorate.

There are things that we can do to keep our brains fit, such as being fit physically (Gina suggested yoga), getting enough sleep (hard note to self: Monette, you need eight hours of sleep!), eating healthy, laughing, and volunteering.

Writing is one of the best ways to sharpen our mind. Gina urged us to write a letter, write a postcard, write a gratitude journal, write to our children and our parents, and to write by hand.

Gina pointed out that her 82-year old parents who have been married 60 years and have so many children, granchildren and great grandchildren, have keen minds because of their healthy and active lifestyle. I was seated beside Gina’s mom during the talk, and she was certainly keen of mind and humor, keeping me entertained so much so that Gina would stop once in awhile and ask her mom to tone down her talking.

Founded by a team of experienced technopreneurs and neuro-scientists, Neeuro Pte. Ltd. where Gina works is about to launch a headworn gadget supported by computer games that challenge memory, attention and more to keep the brain healthy and fit. I asked her to alert me when this happens so I can get a set for myself and start doing mental Zumba.

We all had so much fun while learning how important it is to keep our bodies, hearts and minds healthy. But more than the fun and the learning, it was great bonding with other women at the Women’s Business Council .

Ably led by its chairperson, Ma. Aurora “Boots” Geotina- Garcia, WBC provides a platform for discussing women’s issues in business and finding solutions to challenges women face in the conduct of their business. WBC is working with the Department of Trade and Industry to organize the Public Private Dialogue on Women and the Economy (PPDWE) for APEC Women and the Economy in September 2015. And it looks like we’ll be very busy mounting this.

So, is it possible to die of a broken heart? According to Leni, yes. Can it be cured? Yes. Can we delay the onset of dementia? According to Gina, yes. So, ladies, let’s start living healthy.

TeamAsia founder and president, trainer, event organizer, food and art lover. President, Philippine Association of Convention/Exhibition Organizers and Supplier Philippines · teamasia.com