November 23, 2013. Beaujolais Villages. That was the wine we served at our wedding at the Peak 18 years ago. I had not seen it since, but there it was at the airport lounge in Seoul, Korea. What a remarkable coincidence! Surely, a sign that Mike would be with me during this trip.
I met a very interesting person named Dr. Cornelius “Kees” Hoefnagel. He is a 65-year old nuclear medicine doctor, and he was in the Philippines attending a medical convention at Sofitel. We were both interested in taking the free tour in Seoul, as I had a 7-hour layover enroute to Spain while his was an 8-hour layover to Amsterdam. We missed the free tour by five minutes. Being a frequent flyer, Kees kindly offered to have me as his guest at the airport lounge. And there it was, the Beaujolais Village. Resplendent. Inviting.
Kees was recently appointed dean of the Society of Warmth World Association of Radio Pharmaceutical Therapy. It was a welcome change after being forcibly retired from the hospital where he was head of the nuclear medicine department. It was interesting listening to him explain how nuclear medicine is used to detect and cure cancer. He had developed a procedure called MIBG which helps relieve pain from cancer. I wish I had known about this when Mike fell ill with the dreaded C.
Extremely proud of his wife, Kees regaled me with stories of his wife Marian Hoefnagel who set up a foundation ten years ago to help young people overcome their reading difficulties. A teacher for deaf children, Marian noticed that they hardly read books from the library. Digging deeper into the problem, she realized that the books were not only difficult to read, they were uninteresting. So, Marian started writing books using simple sentences. Her books focused on issues that confronted the young: bulimia, teenage pregnancy, depression, harassment, and the like. Her students were smitten with the books, and now, 50 books later, she is a celebrity in Amsterdam with an ardent following of readers.
Surprisingly, the Korean Air flight to Spain was comfortable. Being claustrophobic, I was afraid that I would not be able to stand the travel, but it went well on both legs (Manila to Seoul, and Seoul to Madrid). And on both legs, I tried out Bibimbap. It was soooo good! Korean Air even had directions on how to prepare it. Unfortunately, I only got the directions on the second leg, so my first taste of this Korean national dish was eaten a la carte.
Landing in Spain after a 13-hour sleepless flight, I was picked up by my good friend Celia Teves who accompanied me to my aunt Conchi’s home at Paseo de la Castellana. I so love Celia! She is the kindest, nicest person I know, so much that she stood as godmother at both my girls’ Confirmation. She came prepared to help me cope with the cold, lending me two hats to keep my head warm, and a thick scarf to protect my neck. At all costs, keep your neck covered, she warned. She then left with the promise to see me the next day.
It was a coming home for me. Thirty years ago, I stayed with Tita Conchi for four months. It was a difficult time for me then; I had just broken up with my first boyfriend, Alboy, and was being courted by Mari, a classmate from AIM. I was conflicted, and so my mother sent me to Spain to get away from it all.
The four months I spent in Madrid with my aunt and uncle, Tita Conchi and Tito Mariano, was pure bliss. I had recently graduated from the Asian Institute of Management with a master in business management degree, finishing with distinction, and I already had two years of work as head of personnel and yet, in Madrid, I let go of my professional self and let my creative side surface. Not having children of their own, my aunt and uncle treated me like a daughter. I was babied and protected from all harm. It was thus I felt safe back in Tita Conchi’s home.
Tita Conchi is a talented painter, especially with watercolours and oils, and she taught me how to use them. We would go to El Prado, the art museum which fascinated me completely. Enthralled, I would spend hours admiring and studying the paintings of the great European masters. I was inspired to paint, and that I did during the day while Tita Conchi and her husband Tito Mariano were both at work.
I remembered the paintings and sketches I had done while there. Tita Conchi still had some of them proudly displayed on her walls. The first day, I was so tired that after noonday mass and a sumptuous lunch of arroz a la plancha in the restaurant near her house, I fell asleep only to be awoken at 8pm. Tita Conchi urged me to go out and see Madrid by night. We took the bus and walked along Puerta del Sol. I was shivering from the cold, and was thankful for the bonnet Celia lent me.
Tita Conchi did not subscribe to new technology. She said she was too old to learn new tricks. No matter how much pleading I did, she would not agree to learn how to use the ordenador (laptop). Her mobile phone was left unused. Without Internet connection at her home, I felt cut out from the world so I searched for a place that had wifi, but was not successful. Starbucks was the only place that had wifi, but it was packed full of people. I finally bit the bullet and signed up first for a one-day promo, and then with a five-day promo of Globe Telecom with Movistar to get connected and do some research for my Casa Asia conference on gender and tourism in Barcelona.
The next morning, Tia Conchi and I went to Celia’s parish, San Martin de Tours to hear Sunday mass.
We then went for lunch at a popular Spanish restaurant where Real Madrid would celebrate each time they won a match. We had salad and steak grilled on a stone. The steak was so good, it seemed like butter melting in my mouth! Celia knew Antonio, the handsome maître d who was very gracious.
After bidding goodbye to Celia, Tia Conchi and I left to visit my cousin Maripepa Villarubia and my mom’s eldest sister, Tia Pepa. They live on a picturesque street near El Prado where famous writers had lived at the turn of the century. I was so sleepy I kept falling asleep on the couch.
We then rushed to have dinner at the home of Tia Carmela, my aunt’s best friend. I used to teach Alicia, her eldest daughter, how to speak English, while Alicia taught me how to speak Spanish. I was happy to meet Alicia who is now a doctor, and her husband, and they gave me tips about what to see in Barcelona.
All of next day I spent working and researching in the little room I called my studio all those years ago. It was here I had painted each day, learning how to use oils on tiles, on wood, and on canvas, while listening to Julio Iglesias sing love songs, and wondering what my life will be. And now, many years later, here I was again, now a widow, yearning for my beloved Mike. Madrid was a crossroads then, as it is now. What lies ahead, I wonder?
