Adventure, Architecture, Art, Children, Church, Faith, Family, Food, God, Life, Love, Travel

Bella Amarela

May 5, 2016 administrator

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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!

Adventure, Children, Family, Food, Friendship, Health, Life, Love, Pesonalities, Resilience, Tourism, Travel, Women

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!

Adventure, Beginnings, Childhood, Church, Food, Life, Love, Travel

Seeing Baguio with a Different Lens

February 28, 2016 administrator 3 Comments

When our friend Elaine Mapa asked Andrè Kahn and me to give a talk to the Girl Scouts of the Philippines (GSP) on branding and the use of their new logo, we readily agreed. First of all, the prospect of visiting Baguio, the country’s summer capital, after more than 26 years was exciting. Second, I have always wanted to be a girl scout but there was no opportunity when I was a child. Instead, I had encouraged both my daughters to join the girl scouts at St. Scholastica’s College, especially since their great grandmother, Pilar Hidalgo Lim, was one of the founders of the GSP. This was my chance to be up and close to the GSP.

About 120 council executives representing 97 councils nationwide were gathered for the GSP’s National Meeting of Council Executives, with the theme, “Exceeding Possibilities: Facing Challenges Toward Excellence,” from February 21 to 24, 2016, at Ating Tahanan National Program and Training Center, in Baguio City. Andre was a big hit as he talked on logo love and the importance of consistency in the use of the GSP’s logo, while I drilled down to their guidelines on the use and applications of their logo.

We both enjoyed the presentation, and were pleasantly surprised when Ma. Dolores “Beng” Santiago, GSP’s National Executive Director suddenly announced that I was going to be inducted as an adult girl scout volunteer. I was so happy I actually jumped on stage. After being given the GSP kerchief and pin and reading aloud the Girl Scout Promise and pledging to abide by the Girl Scout Law, I was sworn in while the council executives sang the girl scout song in unison. Oh, it was a dream come true!

With February 25^th declared a national holiday, we decided to stay on after the talk and do the tourist rounds. Armed with friends’ recommendations on what to see, where to go and what to eat, we looked forward to the trip. His gym friends highly recommended we eat pizza at Amare la Cucina at Albergo de Ferroca, Leonard Wood Road, even saying the pizza there was much better than any in Manila. Another suggestion was to eat at Ketchup Community opposite The Wright Park which supposedly had the best baby back ribs this side of the country. It helped that Andrè had spent many summers up in Baguio in his youth, and he was eager to show me his usual haunts.

We stayed at the Baguio Country Club, where the air was thick with the scent of pine. Memories of my childhood visits to Baguio came flooding back. After praying at the Cathedral, we walked down Session Road, hardly recognizable with the thick throng of people walking up and down, the modern fast food joints, the malls and the outdoor advertising screaming for attention, and yet here and there I could still spot the facade of edifices that spoke of my youth, like the Session Theater. We ducked into one of the small bookstores where it seemed that time stood still. I yearned to see the store where my dad had bought me my first comic book, the Chinese restaurant where we would eat, and the Pines Hotel where we would stay. Alas, they were no longer there.

We crossed over to Burnham Park traversing the dusty football field, and entered the walkway now lined with stalls selling various merchandise opposite a row of creative and attractive flower installations set up for the Panagbenga Flower Festival. Baguio is renowned for its beautiful and colorful flowers, and it was a special treat to see this flower exhibit.

Colorful bicycles for rent lined another part of the park, another blast from the past. Once again, I was transported to my youth, when my brothers and I would ride the bicycles around the park. The manmade lake was still there, but this time, the little boats sported figures from Sponge Bob to Micky Mouse. Andrè offered to rent one with a swan, provided I did the rowing, which I naturally refused with a smile. We meandered through the park, enjoying the bright sunflowers, the warm sun on our skin, dispelling the coolness in the air.

Mines View Park was another destination, and we shopped for souvenirs at the little shops. Baguio fare was still the same as I remembered it: delicate silver trinkets, colorful ponchos and sweaters, native woven cloth, and wooden items from baskets to keychains with the ubiquitious Barrel Man still sitting proudly amongst the items on display. I settled for some thick brooms with “eight fingers,” a far cry from the thin ones available in Manila. I noticed that these days they sold brooms dyed in different colors, and I wondered if the dye would run off the wooden floors if the broom got wet. Of course, a visit to Baguio would not be complete without buying “pasalubong” from the Pink Sisters, a veritable institution. We loaded up on strawberry and mango jam, santol preserves, and their caramel alfajor.

At the Baguio City Market, we bought upland rice, Arabica coffee, vegetables, cut flowers, and fresh strawberries. I got throw rugs, soft white handwoven Ilocos blankets, and colorful kitchen handtowels. At the Easter Weaving Room, we viewed various native fabric from different tribes, and got some table linen. Naturally, we could not leave the Baguio Country Club without a dozen of its famous raisin bread, another standard pasalubong.

I had a great guide in Andrè as he pointed out landmarks like Mansion House, Casa Vallejo Hotel, The Wright Park, Teachers Camp, the Botanical Garden, the Crystal Caves, City Hall, the Convention Center where several Ad Congresses took place, the Baguio General Hospital & Medical Center, the hotels, the churches, with a running commentary on how it was when he was young, and the fun he and his siblings would have exploring and playing. We walked at Camp John Hay, enjoying the cool breeze, checking out the new stores, and chanced upon the Hill Station Bistro where I spied a Tajine, which I immediately bought. Ever since I sampled my Rome-based sister’s delicious dishes prepared using a Moroccan Tajine, I have been searching for one, and now I finally had one.

I had long wanted to visit the Ben Cab Museum, hearing about it from my daughters who would go up to Baguio, and so we made sure we checked it out. The collection was beautiful, although there was much more of Ben Cab’s work at the Metropolitan Museum of Art where he has an ongoing exhibition. Antique wood sculptures seem to be a favorite of Ben Cab, with bulols or “Ifugao rice gods” occupying a prominent wall. A bulol is a carved human figurine which Ifugaos believe is inhabited by an anito or spirit, and is thus worshipped with rituals involving pig’s blood, wine and rice cakes. Carved from narra wood, the bulol usually comes in a pair, and represents happiness and riches. I loved the gardens around the museum, the strawberry patch, the little manmade lake with the hut in the middle, the beautiful view of the mountainside, the lush greenery and the cool crisp air. Ben Cab also had a whimsical cafe with vibrant colors.

It was interesting to see Baguio from Andrè’s lens. He rued the fact that the mountainside which was once a green expanse of verdant trees has been replaced by a myriad of houses that dotted the view. The scent of fragrant pine has been replaced by diesel fumes of vehicles gnarled in traffic. The horses at Mines View Park had beribboned manes dyed pink, and sad-eyed Saint Bernards lazed on the benches, waiting for tourists to have their photos taken with them. Despite these troubling changes, Baguio still had its charm.

Being the foodies that we are, eating was a natural high, and Baguio delivered handsomely on the promise. From Mario’s to Café by the Ruins to Hill Station in the historical Casa Vallejo Hotel established in 1909, the food experience was superb. The teppanyaki dinner at Hamada at the country club hit just the right spot, with our chef showing off his knife juggling skills, then forming the food into hearts with a whisper of “Para sa forever.” Even the daily breakfast buffet at the recently renovated Veranda was heartening, with the promise to become even better as we ran into celebrated Chef Myrna Segismundo who is now consulting with them.

Even the drive up to Baguio was a pleasant experience. We left the South at 4:45am, afraid we would be bogged down by the busy Monday EDSA traffic. The Triplex cut down traveling time to three hours from the start of NLEX. We broke our fast at the S.O.U.L. Café, short for Spice of the Urban Life, another recommendation from his gym friends. SOUL Café featured an extensive menu, and I was eager to try their Dr. Seuss-inspired green eggs cheese omelette and ham for breakfast, while Andrè opted for their longganisa breakfast. The food was so good, we decided to eat there too on the way back to Manila.

Everywhere we went, we bumped into people Andrè knew. It was great meeting his friends, but even more wonderful was the chance to just be alone, talk, discover each other, walk hand-in-hand, and be with someone I love. I am learning to slow down from the hustle and bustle of work and smell the flowers, as they say. I will always remember Baguio for this idyllic adventure, and look forward to the next trip, and perhaps try that famous pizza one day.

Children, Church, Corporate Social Responsibility, Family, Food, Friendship, God, Life, Love, Tourism, Travel, Women, Work

2015, A Most Challenging Year

December 31, 2015 administrator

Bea, Cara, Niccolo and I are in the car driving to Tali where we will spend New Year’s Eve with the Lago family. Their daughter, Mandy is Cara’s best friend from St. Scholastica’s College, and they have invited us to their lovely beach home.

We’ve traditionally spent New Year’s Eve with family at home. After attending mass, we would gather the family and our househelp together in the dining room for Noche Buena, with the usual fare of chicken relleno, homemade ham, and queso de bola. Over dinner, we would play High-Low, where each one of us would share our high and low experiences for the year. We would then thank God for our many blessings, especially the gift of family and friends. After dinner, we would head for the balcony to watch the fireworks around us. At the stroke of midnight, we would toast to the New Year with champagne, hurriedly eat 12 grapes for good luck in the coming year, and hug and kiss each other. And then the children would go off to see their friends.

Two years ago, we did the usual New Yea’s Eve celebration, but it was so sad because Mike was no longer with us. We resolved then to have a different experience each year. Last year, we went to Palms Country Club, and this time we will be spending it at Tali.

Looking back at work, TeamAsia has had its best year in more than two decades under the able leadership of Bea as managing director, with the help of our committed and strong ManComm, and our growing family of enthusiastic, innovative, and young TeamAsians. We’ve organized several conferences like Arangkada, the 7^th International IT-BPM Summit, the Zomato Restaurant Summit, the IMMAP Conference, and the Pacific Insurance Conference, as well as, supported various APEC events and the inaugural Madrid Fusion Manila. We’ve brought the delegate experience to a higher level with our event mobile apps, audience response system and B2B matching, and our digital and social media marketing. We’ve continued to work with stellar clients like Capital One, Globe, Pepsi, Chevron and Google. And we are so very thankful for staunch partners like Mart Miranda, Vince Feliciano, and Manolet Tobias who have been the wind behind our wings. It’s also been a year of strengthening operations and cleaning house.

On the family front, our Dada is just as beautiful and charming as ever, a rock for all of us, but more frail than usual. She is now 81 years old, and still threatens to travel to the US to visit her children and grandchildren and to Madrid to visit her sisters, already hatching travel plans.

My first born Bea has blossomed into a strong leader, inspiring everyone to do their best, working with each director to ensure everything is on track, gaining the confidence of clients, and bringing sunshine and sparkles to the office each day. She has attended the wedding of two of her best friends, one in Texas and the other in Hawaii, and will be going to another one in India next week. One day, a very lucky man will be able to win her heart, and I pray that he will take care of her and love her with all his heart.

Cara has left her beloved Boracay to come to Manila and work on slow food research for Chele Gonzalez of ArroZeria and Gallery Vask fame. This gives her the freedom to pursue her entrepreneurial dream. A week ago, she launched her online swimsuit line Diwata Swimwear, creating cheeky bikinis for young women who, like her, love to explore islands and oceans (www.diwataswimwear.com). I remember scouring the streets of Trastevere in Rome two Decembers ago with Cara looking for a shop that sold Lycra fabric for her bikini line, and trying to communicate in Spanish to the Italian shopkeeper what she needed. Watching her doodle on her drawing book, contact possible suppliers, search for a suitable seamstress, and travel to different islands for inspiration with Ramon to take photos for her website, has revealed a whole new dimension of my once shy little girl.

Now a strapping young man and all of 20 years old, Niccolo is working through his double degree of Applied Economics, major in Financial Economics, and Marketing Management at De La Salle University. He is buffed from regular visits to the gym, and still goes biking sometimes, but spends most of his time with Sam, his girlfriend, who has gotten him interested in baking cookies and exploring the art world. While he’s grown to be a young man, Niccolo continues to be sweet and caring.

As for me, I started the first day of 2015 in Hong Kong with my then boyfriend Rollie Gosiengfiao. We talked about a future together, but it was not meant to be for by the third week of January, he was gone, taken suddenly by a massive heart attack. This came on the heels of a crisis in my professional life. Grief-stricken, I was once again thrown into deep depression, and escaped to Madrid and Rome to be with kin and lick my wounds. Coming back, I arrived too late to see my dear aunt Julia alive. I focused on work and my various commitments to associations. I’ve visited Bangladesh three times for a World Bank related project, and learned how life is in that part of the world. Visiting other places in the world and experiencing their cultures have made me appreciate life even more, and whetted my appetite for adventure.

This December, I’ve closed the chapter on my three-year stint at the Tourism Promotions Board (TPB) as director representing the Meeting, Incentives Travel, Conventions, Exhibitions & Events Services & Facilities Sector. I’ve also graduated from being president to chairman of the Philippine Association of Convention/Exhibition Organizers and Suppliers (PACEOS), and continue to be chairman of Hopkins International Partners, and trustee and board secretary of the League of Corporate Foundations (LCF). I’m very proud of the organizations I am part of as I believe these have a positive impact in the industries they represent.

I’m also very happy with our yearend CSR project, My Dream in a Shoebox Year 7, where we encourage volunteers to donate a used shoebox covered in festive Christmas wrapper and filled with school supplies. Jointly organized by TeamAsia and the Information Technology and Business Process Association of the Philippines (IBPAP), the annual project has helped thousands of children continue with their education. From 200 boxes collected in the first year, we’ve breached 35,000 so far this year, and with the help of volunteers from various BPM companies and the Armed Forces of the Philippines, have organized several outreach activities, distributing the shoeboxes where they are most needed. I’ve also done storytelling about the beauty of love, friendship and giving to 300 children at the Payatas Orione Foundation, to 1,000 children at the San Pedro Calungsod Quasi Parish, to 60 children at SOS Village, and to 500 children at the Ascension of Our Lord Parish. And through all of these, I realize that we actually gain more than the children, as we leave with hearts full of joy that we have made them smile.

Challenging times have a knack of revealing who your real friends are, the ones who stay with you through thick and thin. I am happy and grateful to learn who they are. I’ve also made new friends, like my Gee Whiz Girls and my L2C group, and my Bible Study Fellowship group that has kept me grounded in the Lord. And wonder of wonders, I’ve met a farmer who has turned out to be a great friend, bringing light and laughter into my life again. It’s been a challenging year, but as it turns out 2015 has been good overall, and I look forward to an awesome 2016.

As we close the year and greet 2016, I wish you all a long, happy, healthy, prosperous and wonderfully meaningful life.

Adventure, Art, Church, Confidence, Food, Governance, Resilience, Tourism, Training, Travel

Discovering Bacolod

November 20, 2015 administrator 2 Comments

October 19, 2015, Bacolod City, Negros Occidental. When Atty. Jocelle Batapa-Sigue of Bacolod invited me to speak at the 2^nd Trade and Tourism Expo and Conferences, entitled MassKaraCity 2015, I immediately agreed. I’ve long wanted to visit Bacolod, capital of the province of Negros Occidental. The only other time I’ve been there, I was just 17 years old and on a Goodwill Mission to Cebu, Bacolod and Iloilo together with the Most Outstanding Coeds of Metro Manila.

We stayed with foster parents in each city, paid courtesy visits to local government officials, and met with student leaders. To a city girl like me, Bacolod seemed laid back, especially when we were driving down roads lined with sugar plantations behind what seemed to be an endless string of trucks craning under the weight of sugarcane. What has changed, I wonder?

What hit me this time is that Bacolod seems to be booming. Perhaps it was because of the Masskara Festival that was happening at the same time as the conference. Arriving at the airport, we were greeted by dancers dressed in colorful garb, prancing to the beat of drums. The main streets in the center of town were brightly lit, festooned with decorative buntings. We passed several malls, a sure indication of prosperity. The event itself was being held at the year-old SMX Convention Center Bacolod.

Cutting the ribbon to formally open the 2nd Bacolod Trade and Tourism Expo and Conferences, SMX Convention Center, Bacolod City

At the opening of MassKaraCity 2015, I listened intently to local government and business leaders speak of the city’s tourism and trade potential. I heard the passion in the voice of City Councilor Atty. Jocelle Batapa-Sigue as she spoke of the accomplishments in tourism and industry, especially in the IT-BPM sector, thanked all those who helped, and announced that she would no longer run for office in the upcoming elections. Jocelle chairs the Committee on Tourism, International and Local Cooperation and the Committee on Trade, Commerce and Industry of the Sangguniang Panlungsod of Bacolod.

I was happy to note that the IT-BPM industry is flourishing in Bacolod. Two years ago, Bacolod was recognized by the Department of Science and Technology as a center for excellence for information technology and business process outsourcing, joining the ranks of Metro Manila, Metro Cebu, and Metro Clark. That’s when I first met Jocelle, and was impressed by her fervor and efforts to develop the IT-BPM industry in Bacolod. Several locators have set up shop in Bacolod, like Teletech Philippines, Teleperformance Philippines, Data Solutions Outsourcing, Panasiatic Solutions-Bacolod, Interface Techno Philippines, A&E Global Fusion, Hit Rate Solutions, Alliance Call Centre, Solutionz Call Center, Magsaysay Global BPO, Transcom Philippines, BPO TeleQuest, Shorecloud Corp and Focus Direct Services. No wonder the place was booming!

20151016_141111 — Meeting the gracious and multi-faceted Atty. Juan N. Orola, Jr.

Tourism is definitely a strong pillar for Bacolod’s economy, what with its wildly successful Masskara Festival. I was fortunate to have met Atty. Juan V. Orola, Jr. (John) who was intimately involved in starting and developing the Masskara Festival. Formerly a diplomat, John served as Tourism Attache of the Philippine Embassy in Tokyo, Japan and the Philippine Consulate in Losa Angelas, USA, North and Latin America. He is a lawyer as well as a Doctor of Ecclesiastical Law. I also found out that he was a member of the Lower House representing Bacolod from 1998-2001. But what struck me most was his enthusiasm and commitment to develop Bacolod’s tourism potential.

John recounted the festival’s beginnings in 1980 during a period of severe crisis and tragedy. The global price of sugar had just dropped with the introduction of sugar substitutes in the United States, hitting Bacolod, which relied on sugarcane exports as its main source of revenues, at its core. To make things worse, Bacolod was reeling from the death of 700 Negrenses in a mid-water collision of inter-island MV Don Juan and tanker Tacloban City, throwing the city into gloom. To bring the people out of the doldrums, the local government, business and civic groups and local artisans banned together to launch a festival of smiles. They called it Masskara, taken from the words mass (people) and cara (face) and had revellers wear masks with smiling faces. In essence, Bacolod declared it would not allow itself to be vanquished. And the city has not looked back since.

Because it was festival season, all the hotels and flights were full. I was booked at Luxur Hotel, or what used to be the Bacolod Convention Plaza Hotel, now home for Teleperformance Bacolod. It was safe, Jocelle promised, being in front of the Bacolod Police Headquarters. And though it was not in the center of town, it was just 50 meters from the Negros Organic Market and 20 meters from Aboy’s, the best Bacolod restaurant. I made a mental note to try out Aboy’s.

After the ribbon cutting on Friday, we toured the trade exhibition at SMX. I was impressed by the creativity of the local artists and the variety of products on display, from food to paintings and intricately woven baskets. Desserts appeared to be a strong point, with the abundance of sweets, a natural course given Bacolod is sugarland. All I remember from my first trip to Bacolod was piaya, but this time I was introduced to Napoleones, mango tarts, caramel tarts, barquillos, bizcocho, broas, and more. I kept getting suggestions to visit Calea and Felicia’s but didn’t have the time this trip.

Bacolod seems to be a paradise for foodies, and everyone I met urged me to try chicken inasal. But since I shy away from chicken, I opted for seafood instead. The first night in Bacolod, I toyed with the idea of having dinner at Aboy’s but was told not to walk there as it was already late and dark; instead I just stayed in the hotel and worked on my presentation.

20151016_205744 — Meeting Aboy’s founder, with Mrs. Josefina Puentevella.

20151016_200422 — Riches of the sea: oysters, angel clams, squid, blue marlin.

On my second night in Bacolod, the mayor’s wife Mrs. Josefina Puentevella (Tita Paching) brought me to Aboy’s and ordered a delicious repast of seafood. I was introduced to diwal (angel wing clams), squid fat, their version of laing, and I was hooked! We feasted on scallops, oysters and blue marlin. What made it more special was meeting its amiable owner. Tita Paching recounted how it grew from being a small eatery in 1992 catering to pharmaceutical reps to this big expansive restaurant we were eating in. She pointed out the owner’s wife who was behind the till, still hard at work.

Early the next day, Tita Paching picked me up and we heard mass at the Cathedral of San Sebastian, originally built in 1876. Seeing the familiar figure of San Sebastian tied to a tree with arrows sticking ut of him, I remembered my childhood. Every Sunday, we would go to mass at the Basilica of San Sebastian behind which we lived. I would stare at his statue at the main altar, and wonder how strong his faith was to be martyred for it. After mass, we visited the Organic Market, picked up a refreshing dayap and cucumber juice and then had breakfast at Luxur.

20151017_104216 — Tom Hanks, Captain Phillips’ lifeboat behind us at the VMA Training Center.

After this, Atty. John Orola came to pick me up and show me his school, The VMA Global College and Training Centers where they prepare students for lifetime careers ranging from maritime to tourism. It was interesting touring the school’s facilities, especially the MV VMA, a full mission simulator where students can experience how to navigate a vessel using the Poseidon simulator, maneuvering under various conditions and situations and avoiding collision. A group of students was then undergoing survival training, learning how to swim under difficult conditions and to jump from heights. There was an enclosed 28-foot lifeboat, which apparently had been used by Tom Hanks in the movie Captain Phillips that I wanted to enter, but we could not as survival training was ongoing. Next trip, I thought.

After VMA, we moved over to Sum-Ag, Bacolod City where we met Tomas “Tomiko” Claridad Casiano, a retired floral designer from Beverly Hills. When he decided to come back to the Philippines, Tomiko packed up his collection of over 2,000 vintage glass pieces in 66 crates, and built a two-story museum next door to his home to house his beloved collection. Opened to the public on December 12, 2012, Laguerta, home of the Vintage Glass Museum has been recognized as the largest collection of depression glasses outside of the United States, and the first in Asia.

Tomiko’s love story with vintage glasses began when he searched for interesting vases for the floral creations he would use in the homes of the rich and famous. Attracted to vintage glass, particularly depression glasses manufactured in the Unites States from 1904 to 1940, Tomiko had his collection of dinnerware, decanters, commemorative plates and decorative objects arranged by color, from yellow to amber, pink, ruby, fire, green, aquamarine, cobalt blue and delphite which is an opaque blue glass.

He eagerly showed us the stars of his collection, explaining the difference between carnival glasses, which are pattern-molded iridescent glasses sprayed with metallic salts while the glass was hot, and opalescent glasses, which have two layers of glass: one colored and the other clear. He explained that washing the latter several times would wash away its color completely. He showed us his Vaseline collection, which is no longer being made because it requires uranium to produce its yellow to yellow green color; a Jadite collection that is milk green, a pearlized mustard collection that is milk yellow, and a milky white collection.

Tomiko pointing out the finer details of the glass bowl.

Tomiko held up some bowls to the sun so that we could appreciate the patterns. I was intrigued by a night lamp he held up that was etched all around with a ship, a spouting whale, a swimming whale and anchors. I imagined it lit by a candle, and a young mother during the depression telling her child a bedtime story of maritime adventure as the flickering light of the candle threw shadows on the wall. Another interesting item was a bedtime jar, whose cover was actually an upturned glass. Tomiko had two of those in his collection.

Listening to his stories and watching him as he toured us around, I was impressed with Tomiko. Here was a man, totally unassuming, who loved what he did and was eager to share it with the world. When I asked when visiting hours for his museum was, he explained that we had to call ahead to make a reservation so he could be there. He did not have staff to manage the museum, and did everything himself, afraid that they would not take care of his collection as well as he did.

Tomiko then invited us to visit the church of San Juan Nepomuceno that he has been supporting. The church housed his Escayola Collection of Mutilated Religious Arts. Since many Catholic families in the Philippines have “santos” or images of saints made of escayola (plaster of Paris), owners are unsure what to do with them when they break. Missing limbs or heads, the “santos” are no longer displayed. As it is considered bad luck to throw them, they are instead buried.

One night, Tomiko dreamt that he was being asked by God to take care of broken religious icons made of escayola. The very next day, a neighbor came by and gave him a broken statue of a saint that he had unearthed while digging in his garden. This started his collection, as news spread and friends and even people he did not know would come up to him and gift him with their broken statues. I asked him if he knew who all these “santos” represented, and he admitted that he did not know all of them, but that a researcher was helping him identify the statues for proper labeling. I am sure that just like his vintage glass collection, Tomiko’s escayola collection will someday be recognized as unique and outstanding.

20151017_144337 — With John Orola and Atty. Danny Cruz of the VMA Global College

My last stop before going to the airport for my return trip to Manila was the stadium. I was adamant to catch even one Masskara dance, and was lucky to see the group that performed in Hong Kong. It was an amazing performance, and a fitting end to my quick trip to Bacolod City. I vowed to come back next year for the Masskara festival and stay the entire weekend. Now to look for tickets and book a hotel.

Adventure, Architecture, Art, Death, Family, Food, Goodbyes, Life, Love, Tourism, Travel

Romancing the Ruins

October 28, 2015 administrator

I’m a sucker for love stories, and I was enthralled when Raymund Javellana, great grandson of Mariano Lacson personally toured me around his family’s ancestral home in Talisay City, Negros Occidental. Acclaimed as one of the 12 most fascinating ruins of the world, The Ruins is a monument to the undying love of Mariano Lacson and Maria Braga.

20151028_183616 — Don Mariano Ledesma Lacson

It was my second night in Bacolod City, and Mrs. Josefina Puentevella (Tita Paching) was taking me around. She brought me to Talisay to see The Ruins. She said it was a house that was bombed during the Japanese occupation so that the invaders would not use it as headquarters. I told her about my own ancestral home in San Sebastian that was actually used by the Japanese commander as his headquarters. I was thus quite interested to see the house she was referring to which had belonged to Don Mariano Ledesma Lacson, a sugar baron in the early 1900s.

The youngest of ten children of Lucio Lacson and Clara Ledesma, the dashing Mariano fell in love during one of his frequent visits to Hong Kong with the beautiful Maria Braga, a Portuguese lady from Macau, daughter of a ship captain. He proposed to her and brought his young bride home to Negros. There, they lived happily together and had ten children.

When Maria was pregnant with her 11th child, she suffered a bad fall and began to bleed heavily. Alarmed, Mariano quickly drove his horse-drawn carriage to the next city to summon a physician. It took four days of travel traversing different sugar plantations, asking permission to pass from the landowner each time. I can just imagine how distraught he was throughout the trip. By the time he got back with the doctor, Maria and her unborn child was dead.

Grief-stricken, the heartbroken Mariano decided to build a mansion to commemorate his love for his beloved wife. With the help of his father-in-law who sent over workers from Hong Kong, Mariano built an elegant two-story mansion in the midst of his sugar plantation. Here, he lived with his children with the rule that once any of them got married, they would have to leave the mansion.

Two Ms facing each other, standing for the initials of Mariano and Maria, are forever etched into the posts.

No expense was spared in building the structure made of oversized steel bars encased in solid concrete. The walls were finished in cement mixed with egg whites, lending a marble-like finish to the mansion. Each post of the house was emblazoned with two letter Ms facing each other, initials of Mariano and Maria.

There were four rooms downstairs for his boys, and four rooms directly on top of them for his girls. A wide staircase led directly from the side entrance to the second floor. This way, Raymund explained, Mariano could go up to the master’s bedroom without disturbing any of the guests in the living room. The family could enjoy sunsets through the bay window of the belvedere facing west.

20151016_190435 — The main entrance to the mansion

A wide porch wrapped itself around both floors of the house, reminiscent of the mansion in the movie “Gone with the Wind.” Twin columns lined the porch with graceful arches in between. Colorful Machuca tiles from Spain lined the veranda, while thick meter-wide, 20-meter long wooden planks served as flooring for the various rooms. Starkly silhouetted against the dark sky was the scalloped roof.

On the eve of World War II, this beautiful mansion was razed to the ground by guerillas during the Japanese war upon the orders of the United States Armed Forces in the Far East or USAFFE, to ensure it would not fall into the hands of the Japanese forces and made into headquarters. They say it took three days for the house to burn, engulfing all the beautiful wooden floors and ceiling, leaving behind the shell of the once beautiful mansion.

When Mariano died, the plantation was subdivided amongst his ten children, and later further subdivided amongst the grandchildren. No one wanted the portion of land on which the burnt out shell stood. After all, it was thought to be useless since sugarcane could not be planted in it. For six and a half decades, The Ruins remained just that, a sad reminder of the opulent lifestyle of the sugar barons, slowly succumbing to the ravages of time.

That is, until Raymund Javellana, a scion of the prominent Lacson-Javellana and Lopez-Heredia families, inherited the land with the burnt mansion and pondered what to do with it. Just like his ancestor Mariano, Raymund was widely traveled and had been to many interesting historical places in Europe. He toyed with the idea of developing The Ruins into a tourist attraction.

One day, Raymund saw children climbing up and playing at the four-tiered fountain fronting the house. Looking closely, he noticed how strong and beautiful it was and decided to rehabilitate it, along with the expansive garden surrounding the house. In its heyday, the mansion’s garden laden with imported lilies was maintained by a Japanese gardener under the supervision of Angelina, Mariano’s daughter. This same gardener turned out to be an informant of the Japanese Military.

Raymund installed lights in the house, running the electric wires through the original pipes embedded in the ceiling. I asked him if the globes were made of capiz, but he said they were made from sturdy resin to withstand the strong wind from storms. He showed me where the living room, dining room, kitchen and kitchen preparation areas had been, and pointed to the thick cement flooring underneath where the wood-fired ovens were located.

It’s a pity there are hardly any photos of the house as it was in its prime. Raymund remarked that the old photos were kept by one of the children but they were lost in another fire. “There’s something about our family and fires,” he said.

Walking with us around the beautifully landscaped gardens surrounding the house, Raymund invited us to have a picture taken in front of an outside glass table. He said that most everyone who comes has their photo taken there with the house silhouetted behind, as the glass of the table reflects the house and it appears magical. Naturally, we just had to do this too.

And as I looked around I saw in the distance what seemed like a tree sprouting from a column. I learned that this was the simborio, or smokestack of the sugar farm’s mill where they heated the juice of the sugarcane before allowing it to cool and crystalize into what we know as muscovado, unrefined brown sugar imbued with the strong flavor of molasses.

20151016_192715 — Tita Paching and me with our personal guide, Raymund Javellana.

Just as we were leaving, we passed by the café that Raymund had built and bought piping hot piaya or unleavened flatbread filled with muscovado and glucose syrup. What a treat it was to bite into the delicious piaya! Closing my eyes, I was once again transported to the very first time I had tasted piaya, savoring its goodness, and for a fleeting moment, imagined how beautiful life must have been for Mariano and Maria. And thanks to Raymund, the story of their love will continue to inspire generations to come.

Children, Church, Death, Family, Forgiveness, Friendship, Life, Love, Women, Work

Honoring Cathy

September 30, 2015 administrator 3 Comments

10574634_10204406469656105_1381062784_o — Cathy and her cousin. Noche buena 2014.

When I first met Cathy, she was dark, skinny and had a haunted air around her. It was the 27^th of April 2012. I was in dire need of a maid, and so was my mom, and she was referred by the helper of a neighbor. Interviewing her, I learned that she had run away from her husband and come to Manila to look for a job. She said her husband’s family had a history of mental illness, and he had started to beat her up. Her husband’s family was well-to-do, she said, and they looked down on her as she came from humble beginnings.

Her father had left them when she was young and had taken up with someone else. Later when he was ill, he returned to their family so that they could take care of him. She told me he used to be quite violent when drunk and would beat up her mother. This scarred her for life. Her mom, on the other hand, is very religious and serves the church. Her sole source of income came from donations from people who would ask her to pray for their dead. Cathy could not understand why her mother took her father back after abandoning them, and even nursed him until he died.

The eldest in her family, Cathy graduated with top honors in high school, while working as househelp for relatives. She was studying to be a teacher when she fell madly in love with the man she would eventually marry. They eloped and she got pregnant. Living with him, however, soon became a nightmare, as relations with her in-laws was strained, and her husband began exhibiting disturbing tendencies. She suffered silently until she got beaten up in front of her daughters. She could not bear inflicting the same hurt on her daughters that she had suffered as a child, and she planned her escape.

Cathy left her daughters with her mom for safekeeping and got on a bus to Manila, showing up at our home the day after she arrived in Manila. We agreed that if she stayed a year working for us that I would buy her a ticket home so she could visit her children.

Cathy had two daughters, a year apart. The eldest was barely two when she left them. She missed them terribly, and transferred her motherly love to Niccolo. At first, she was worried about communicating as Mike and Niccolo spoke only English. Nosebleed, she would say. But later, she was able to adjust quickly, and soon became the interpreter of the other househelp.

10856097_10204293419029910_174125328_o — Helping me make Christmas ham, a yearly tradition.

Cathy had an amazing zest for life, and was always upbeat. She loved to learn new things, and would watch me as I cooked, asking questions as to how things were done. I encouraged her to read my cookbooks, and essentially gave her free reign in the kitchen to experiment various recipes. Sometimes, it was hit and miss, but she soon mastered the art of pasta. She learned my recipes by heart and could whip up any dish I asked her to make. She specially enjoyed helping me prepare Christmas ham.

10876846_10204406679501351_2102868092_o — Cathy was my rock at home. Here she is with me, one Christmas eve. Bugsy refused to be left out of the photo.

Long before the Kasambahay Law came in, I enrolled her in SSS, Pag-ibig and HDMF. Each Christmas and New Year, it was our family’s practice to celebrate Noche Buena together with our househelp around the dinner table. We would invite their close family members to join us. In Cathy’s case, it was Jay-R, her younger brother, who would come.

Hardworking and diligent, Cathy soon became indispensable to our household. She endeared herself to everyone, including my mom. They would spend hours chit-chatting about everything under the sun. Dada would teach her how to take care of the house and of us and give her advice on life. Cathy reciprocated by taking care of Dada whenever she would visit us, and making sure Dada took her medicine properly. When Dada was in Quiapo, Cathy would call to check on her. They were phone pals. Niccolo too was dependent on her for almost everything, from his clothes to his food. Even Bugsy transferred his allegiance to her, as she was the one who fed him, bathed him and took him for walks.

When Mike took ill with cancer in October 2012, Cathy helped me take care of Mike, especially when he stopped going to work and I had to do double time at the office. She and I would take shifts at the hospital when he would have chemo, blood transfusions or stem cell injections. She prepared his meals while I was at work and would cajole him to eat. When Mike died, Cathy was there too, crying with the family. And she was a tower of strength during that dark period after Mike died, making sure I ate, and keeping me company. When I hurt my back and was in terrible pain, Cathy would help me get up from bed and put on my back brace.

524155_3842057244220_1210320727_n — With Malie and Cathy, a year before Mike died.

When Malie, my other maid left, Cathy offered to be the sole kasambahay, saying she preferred to be alone. Anyway, she argued that she only had Niccolo and me to take care of since Bea was away in the US and Cara was in Boracay. I agreed and gave her a hefty raise. She ran the house well, and gained our full trust and confidence. We loved her, and we believe she loved us too.

10849419_10204340979418890_249879269_o — Lectors’ Christmas Party. That’s Cathy in the center seated on the floor.

Knowing how intelligent she was, I asked Cathy if she wanted to serve in our parish after Mike died. She accepted eagerly but was worried how she would be accepted by the village. I took her under my wing and taught her how to become a lector. We would practice her delivery of the English readings before the mass. At home, we would pray the rosary and I would let her lead. Soon, she gained enough confidence and was at ease in front of the congregation. She was warmly welcomed by our lector family as an equal, and was even chosen to head the secretariat for the last Parish Renewal Experience (PREX). The kasambahays in the village looked up to her, and wanted to emulate her. She was their star, the most popular househelp of the village.

When Yolanda hit Leyte, Cathy was beside herself with worry. Her family lived in Carigara, near Tacloban. There was no news of her family as communication lines were down. We searched on the Internet and TV for news of her children and posted their photos on the portal for survivors. A week later, Jay-R said he could not stand it anymore and would go home and look for them himself. We sent him off with money and supplies. For days, Cathy worked non-stop to get over the fear of not knowing what happened her family. We were overjoyed when Jay-R texted to say he had found them unharmed, other than the house which had lost its roof and kitchen. We sent funds to help them rebuild, and offered for them to come to Manila and stay with us. But Cathy’s mom refused to leave as there were so many dead who had to be prayed for.

Cathy’s children were her pride and joy. Her eldest was studious and got good grades, but it was her spunky and strong-willed youngest who kept Cathy in stitches. The first time Cathy went home, she felt so bad because her children did not recognize her. By the time she was going to return to Manila, the eldest had started calling her mama. I remember the second time she went home, she had huge dolls for her daughters. Cathy always timed her home visits to make sure she was there when her daughter would receive her medals.

When the Kasambahay Law came into being, Cathy began to take leaves more often and not come home for the night. There was nothing I could do as this was the law, but I cautioned her to be careful and to keep safe. I noticed that she started putting on make-up and nail polish. I chalked this up to her youth.

When she came back from her last trip to the province, Cathy was often sick. Worried, we sent her for a check-up but she said she was OK. We noticed that she started slacking off as the house was no longer as spic and span as it was before, and clothes would not get washed or ironed right away. We hired someone to come in and help her.

When I got home late from work one night in June, I was surprised to see the house completely dark. I never brought my keys with me as Cathy was always there to open the gate and greet me. Worried that something had happened to her, I called the guardhouse. The security officer said Cathy had left in the morning and not returned. I waited until Bea got home with her keys so we could enter the house. We were surprised to find all her clothes missing. I felt stabbed in the heart. How could Cathy do this to me? I sent a message to Jay-R, asking if he knew why she left.

Later we discovered the letter she had left us. She asked for our forgiveness and said she had to leave because she was pregnant and didn’t know what to do. I was so angry and disappointed! She could have told us, and we would have been the first to help her. We learned that she had planned her escape, sending sealed boxes in the car whenever my mother would go home to her house in Manila. I spoke to Manang, my mom’s maid who was Cathy’s townmate, and she admitted that Cathy had sent boxes of her things to be sent to the province and that they had all been collected by another of their friends. What a cowardly thing to do!

I asked my caretaker in the farm to come with his wife and help us out while we searched for a new maid. His wife learned from the village kasambahays that Cathy had said she was not being paid well and that’s why she left. This incensed my caretaker’s wife, as she knew how well we treat our helpers. I decided to cut clean and removed her from my contact list.

Last Saturday, when I visited my mom, Manang told me that Cathy was very sick. She started to cry, but since Manang was prone to drama, I told her to stop crying and not to tell me anything about Cathy as she had made her decision to leave us. Sunday night, an FB message popped up from Jay-R. Cathy was dead. He said she had died of typhoid fever in their province, her unborn child with her. I felt stricken to the core.

Jay-R told me that she had been ill for weeks, going in and out of the hospital, and since he could not take care of her as he worked, she decided to go home to the province and get well there. It was not to be. She became gravely ill in Carigara. He told me too that while she was delirious, she kept on saying she loved me and Niccolo and was sorry she had hurt us.

Reflecting on what happened, I guess Cathy did not know how to face the community when she learned she was pregnant, especially as she was a lector. We were always told to give a good example. How could she explain that she was pregnant when everyone knew she was separated from her husband? It is sad, but Cathy had a pattern of failling in love, and then running away when the situation became difficult.

13904_10203466142788521_3486103470985968514_n — On August 9, 2014, I posted this pciture of Cathy and me on my IG and FB: “Cathy is my super woman. She takes care of my home, my children, and me. We all love her! Oh, I forgot! She takes care of Bugsy and the kois too. And she serves at the parish as a lector.”

Our last conversation before she ran away was about second chances. She had always wanted an annulment from her husband so that she could begin life afresh. She wanted a second chance at love, just as I had with Mike. I told her to start writing down her life story as this would be needed, and promised to help her get that annulment. How, I wish I could have helped her!

I write this now to honor Cathy. Yes, she had hurt us deeply, but what I choose to remember is the love we had shared. I trust that she is now in heaven, where there is no pain and only the everlasting joy of being with our Lord. Thank you, Cathy!

Food, Uncategorized

Sangria and Pintxos on a Friday night

September 13, 2015 administrator

The Internet and Mobile Marketing Association of the Philippines (IMMAP) Summit’s a wrap and to celebrate, we hied off to Gallery Vask for their Semana Grande Pintxos night, and to meet up with Cara who works as Research and Development Lead for Chele Gonzalez. And what a night it was!

Unless you know what to look for, it’s easy to miss Gallery Vask. Hidden away on the fifth floor of Clipp Center on 11th Avenue corner 39th Street, Bonifacio Global City, Taguig, there are no signs. Walking into the lobby of the building, you see the statue of a tall graceful black horse, and you begin to wonder what surprises are in store for you.

Arriving at Gallery Vask, who else do we see but the handsome Chef Chele Gonzalez, all rested from his Spanish sojourn and still blushing as he recounted the happy time he had with his beloved Teri. His tip for relaxing: leave your mobile phone behind.

Soon, we are perched on high seats at the long glass table, and look around the room, noting the whimsical Micky Mouse cutouts that adorn the ceiling. Luckily we arrived early enough to get seats as the room soon started to fill up.

Each weekend for the entire month of September, Gallery Vasks holds its Semana Grande Pintxos Nights, offering unlimited sangria with their pintxos. I opted for the white sangria (well actually it was a bright yellow orange) which was refreshingly light and sumptuously delicious. My companions chose the traditional red sangria, delightful as well, but I preferred to be different tonight.

Looking at the wide variety of bite-sized pintxos on display, I wondered which to try out first. Like little works of art, they seemed to call out playfully, each delectable piece competing with the other: ‘try me first.’ The crab and grilled eggplant won the first round.

Every single bite was delicious, from the jamon parmesan mousse to the sous vide tuna with caramelized onion, patata tortilla, crab, roast beef with roasted piquillo pepper, grilled eggplant, boquerones (here we call them tawilis) and chorizo with caramelized onion.

We were getting full from the pintxos and a bit light-headed from the sangria when the heavy weight Vask specialties started arriving. The round croquetas de pollo were as creamy as my mom makes it. The Secreto Iberico fillet with porcina espuma and chimichurri was tender to the bite. And the fresh oysters with Basque country caviar and pomelo foam, well, they were divine! I loved the seared scallops and black ink risotto made from Highland tinaoan rice with crispy Parmesan rounds.

Last December, Chef Chele and Vicky Garcia, whom I had met at the Social Enterprise Forum we had organized, invited me to go on a roadtrip to the Sagadas in search of the perfect rice for paellas. I couldn’t go because of yearend events we were organizing, but I keep kicking myself for passing up such a unique and exciting adventure. It must have been loads of fun. Oh well, another drop in the bucket list.

Not to be outdone was the hearty fabada, comfort food at its best. For postre we had torrija and pastel caliente de chocolate valrhona. Oh, I was in seventh heaven! Take it from me, this is one place you can keep coming back to, and be happy you did. Chef Chele never fails to delight his guests.

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.

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