November 4, 2009 at 9:00 pm (1900s Philippines, 2000s Philippines, Angst, Humor, Personal, Random memories, The Global Crowd, The Manilenos, The Pampanguenos, The Past, Tristesse)
Karma.
Believe me, in the 42 summers I have lived, I have seen enough of it to want to avoid it. Despite that, I know it’s coming… And it’s going to hit its exact targets, nothing more and nothing less. The comforting thing is that I know, with absolute certainty, that it’s going to hit everyone else as well. How much fun can that be???
*unfinished*
November 3, 2009 at 9:00 pm (Angst, Family Traditions, Humor, Personal, Random memories, The Global Crowd, The Manilenos, The Pampanguenos, Tristesse)
As the years have passed, as I have dutifully attended the countless funerals and funeral buffets of family and friends [ from Le Souffle to Sisig Atbp. ], I have realized — not too insightfully and not too intelligently — that Life is like a Book that has to be read from the beginning to the end. It is only with one’s passing, like a book’s end, that an observer gains a fuller, clearer, more effective perspective of the deceased’s life, of the book’s plot so to speak. Somehow, an observer finally finds the elusive answers to several of the nagging questions that pervaded the life of the one who had passed. In that rare understanding always emerges a profound sympathy. We finally realize that they too went through, pardon the term, a lot of shit.
…….
It is my cheery hope that when my own rockabye time comes, even just one or two of my family and friends will understand and sympathize with, again pardon the term, all the shit I went through… and see right through all the elegance and the ease and the artifice to the endless torture and the hellish moments in one way or the other that it actually was…
*unfinished*
November 2, 2009 at 9:00 pm (Angst, Arnedo de Sulipan, Brother Andrew F.S.C. of De La Salle, Family Traditions, Gonzalez de Sulipan, Pampanga Traditions, Personal, Random memories, Religious Traditions, The Global Crowd, The Manilenos, The Pampanguenos, Tristesse)
A 02 November 2009 entry from my daily journal:
“***02 November: All Souls’ Day. During Lola Charing’s lifetime [ up to 02 November 1976 ], and up to 1984, All Souls’ Day meant a 7:30 a.m. Holy Mass at the Gonzalez Mausoleum at the Apalit Catholic Cemetery and afterwards a nice traditional Capampangan / Filipino breakfast prepared by Lola Ising [ Elisa Arnedo – Sazon, Lola Charing’s youngest sister ] at the [ former Buencamino – Arnedo ] Arnedo – Espiritu / “Lolo Ariong’s” Governor Macario Arnedo’s / the Saint Peter’s Mission House in Barrio Capalangan. No questions, no ifs or buts. Well, THAT was another life…”
“On hindsight after all these years [ 01 November 2009 ], After The Clandestine Sale of the remaining Arnedo – Espiritu Antiques at the [ former Buencamino – Arnedo ] Arnedo – Espiritu / “Lolo Ariong’s” Governor Macario Arnedo’s / Saint Peter’s Mission House, several major pieces of which were actually Lola Charing’s inheritance which she hesitated to take from her parents’ house, in April 1984 by Tita Erlinda “Linda” Arnedo Sazon – Badenhop to the emergent Malabon collector Antonio “Tony” Gutierrez [ which inevitably resulted in rehashed, deep – seated resentments among the three Arnedo – Espiritu branches --- between the Gonzalez, the Ballesteros, and the Sazon ], the Gonzalez somehow seemed less inclined to gather for the traditional breakfast in that house after the All Souls’ Day Holy Mass at the Gonzalez Mausoleum. From 1984 onwards, Brother Andrew started adjusting the traditional All Souls’ Day Holy Mass and Breakfast to suit his constant traveling schedule [ before or after 02 November depending on his whims ] and somehow it just unraveled year after year until it was NO MORE, no longer a family tradition. Farewell to another part of the family’s soul.”
**********************************************************
When I was young, 02 November meant leaving the house at 6:00 a.m. sharp with the whole family for the hour-long trip to Apalit, Pampanga. Lola Charing and Tito Hector left her house, ditto Tito Melo and Tita Leonie and their family. And Brother Andrew from De La Salle University, sometimes with Fr. Cornelius Hulsbosch or Fr. Luke Moortgart, if the parish priest of Apalit was unavailable.
By 7:15 a.m., we had all arrived in our various cars at the Apalit Catholic Cemetery. Lola Charing’s majordomo, Bito, had already been preparing the Gonzalez Mausoleum for two days, decorating it with candles in ornate candelabra, flowers, white Japanese chrysanthemums in their pots, and roses from Lola Charing’s garden, in elegant, old porcelain and silver vases. Benches and kneelers had been borrowed from the Apalit Church. The priest would usually ask how many in the group would be receiving Holy Communion. And by 7:30 a.m., the Holy Mass would begin.
The All Souls’ Day Holy Mass did not take long. It was over in half an hour, and then the priest would bless all the gravestones, with Brother Andrew directing him. The family would exchange pleasantries, however briefly, with all the friends and the loyal old retainers who had come for the Mass. That done, we boarded our respective cars for the 15 minute trip to Barrio / Barangay Capalangan, to the old Arnedo-Espiritu residence where Lola Ising [ Lola Charing's youngest sister ] and her family stayed, for the traditional Capampangan breakfast which all of us eagerly anticipated.
Our awaited Capampangan breakfast was served on ancient stoneware platters with a violet Greek key pattern which had been with the Arnedos for ages. There was native chocolate, neither “eh” nor “ah,” made from homemade “tableas” and carabao’s milk, and whipped to a froth with a wooden “batirol” in an ancient brass “chocolatera”; there was good freshly-brewed “barako” coffee; Chinese jasmine tea; warm carabao’s milk for the children. There were exquisitely fresh Capalangan teeny-tiny white “puto” and glutinous “cuchinta” which we kiddies could consume by the handfuls; Native “Suman” and “Kakanin” of all kinds; “San Nicolas” and several kinds of traditional bread from the Padilla bakery in Sulipan; “Champorado” chocolate porridge for the kiddies. There was the ubiquitous “Pistou,” really a “scattered omelet” [ the eggs were mixed in with the contents ] with ground pork [ or was it ground beef? ], Spanish chorizos [ erroneously termed "de Bilbao" ], diced potatoes, green peas, garbanzos, julienned red and green peppers, etc.. Fresh “Daing” dried fish. “Adobo del Diablo,” twice-fried chicken and pork “adobo” stew with all the innards swimming in oil. Dry Beef Tapa; “Kare-kare” Oxtail Stew. “Tapang Damulag” preserved carabao beef, almost sour. “Longganisa ni Oray” vinegary and garlicky Calumpit “longganizas” which were Gonzalez family favorites from PreWar; “Hoc Shiu” Chinese ham, cooked “en dulce” style; Pork longganiza; Pork Tocino; Crisp “Lechon Kawali”; and “Menudo” long-simmered Pork Leg Stew. Served on saucers was genuine “sasa” vinegar from Hagonoy. Traditional “Pan de Sal,” still big then, crusty on the outside and soft in the inside. And of course, steaming “Sinangag” Rice [ steamed rice fried with garlic cloves ]. For dessert, there were native fruits of the season freshly picked from the garden, “Tibuc-tibuc” [ similar to "maja blanca" ] of carabao’s milk, “Leche Flan” of carabao’s milk, and the ubiquitous “Fruit Salad” made with Nestle cream and homemade mayonnaise. Native homemade candies. THAT was the Gonzalez and the Arnedo idea of a big family breakfast, but really more Arnedo. It was only during that Apalit breakfast, once a year, that Brother Andrew dispensed with his elegant and expensive European predilections and went totally native, totally Capampangan. 
*unfinished*
October 21, 2009 at 9:41 am (1900s Philippines, Angst, Random memories, The Global Crowd, The Manilenos, The Pampanguenos, The Past, Tristesse)
All these recent disasters in our beleaguered country bring to mind one of the most difficult periods in Philippine History, the Japanese Occupation from 08 December 1941 - 03 March 1945. According to the surviving seniors, compared to those years, what we are undergoing now as a nation is “chickenfeed.”
I was born in 1967, 22 years after The War ended in 1945. That’s just the time period between 2009 and 1987, and it’s not very long, nor essentially very different. And in the minds of those who had experienced it — from my grandmother, my parents, aunts and uncles, and household staff — it was as fresh and as frightening a memory as anything.
We have all read about Wartime in the Philippines and have even seen movies about it like “The Great Raid” by John Dahl in 2005 and “Oro, Plata, Mata” by Peque Gallaga in 1981. One book, “By Sword and Fire: The Destruction of Manila in World War II: 3 February – 3 March 1945″ by Alfonso J. Aluit in 1994 fully describes the Sheer Horror of the Carnage and Destruction of Manila in late February 1945.
The following are stories of our various Gonzalez-Escaler-Arnedo and Reyes-Quiason family members during The War. They are not spectacular in the sense that no one was a bemedalled War Hero, nor an active leader of the guerrilla movement, nor an entire household murdered. But they are Stories of War and Suffering just the same, and well worth recording for posterity.
GONZALEZ
My paternal grandfather, Lolo Augusto “Bosto” Sioco Gonzalez, already knew as early as 1937 that a Great World War was looming in the horizon. He was 50 years old and was at the prime of his fortunes but sadly at the ebb of his health because of severe diabetes. That, however, did not stop him from forging ahead with his ambitious professional aims and flourishing family life. Although he had set his sights on purchasing an elegant and expensive residence along prestigious Dewey Boulevard to serve as his Manila base [ impressed by his brilliant and accomplished nephew Joaquin Tomas de Aquino "Jake" Valdes Gonzalez, he determined that his own young sons would be attending De La Salle College along Taft Avenue ], he purchased two small, 441 sq. m. properties in the first government employee housing project of President Manuel Quezon in faraway Quezon City [ which later became the "Scout area" ], on a street called “South 9.” He urged his very rich aunt Dona Sabina Sioco de Escaler to buy one across and the widow of his eldest brother Fernando, Clementina Elizalde-Gonzalez, to buy beside him. “What on earth are we going to do in that ’squatter resettlement’ area, Papa?” asked his eldest son Rogie [ used as Rogie was to the commodious and elegant residences of the Gonzalezes, the Escalers, and his wife Luding's Salgado and de Leon relations, in Pampanga and in the posh enclaves of Manila ]. That done, he had extensive aerage / bomb shelters constructed underground connecting all four houses. He told his wife, my Lola Charing: “When The War comes, We will be safer here. Of course, the Japanese will go to the best areas first, to Ermita and Malate and Taft, before they will even think of coming to this nondescript place.” Of course, Lolo Bosto was assassinated at the PASUDECO offices on 12 July 1939 and never saw The War. Might as well, for knowing what a firebrand he was, he would have surely funded the guerrillas, helped the Americans, and been forthwith executed by the Japanese. But he was very right when he predicted that the Japanese would come to Ermita, Malate, and Taft Avenue first. They did. But they eventually reached Quezon City too. When the Japanese soldiers found out in late 1944 that the Gonzalez and Escaler houses along South 9 had aerage / bomb shelters, they evicted the families, giving them 24 hours to leave. They also confiscated Lolo Bosto’s elegant, 1937 black Cadillac stretch limousine, the last car that he had purchased. They broke open Lola Charing’s camphor chests and chanced upon her 1930 “traje de boda” wedding dress, which they promptly used as a rag to polish their guns. The four families were “scattered to the winds.” Lola Charing and her family were graciously taken in by Imang Belen Zapanta-Reyes and family in their Kamuning house, and that is where they stayed for a time.
My aunt, dearest Tita Naty, Natividad Gonzalez-Palanca, remembers: “Every time there was an evacuation, I remember Mama Charing running, with Macarito the toddler [ the future Brother Andrew Benjamin Gonzalez, F.S.C. of De La Salle University ] on one arm and the silver [ the heavy, wrapped-up American sterling silver flatware service for 36 pax monogrammed "RAG" { Rosario Arnedo-Gonzalez }, which was one of Papa's last gifts to her ], on the other.”
It was a good thing that all of the Gonzalezes had vacated the 1883 ancestral Gonzalez-Sioco mansion in Barrio Sulipan, Apalit, Pampanga by the time War broke out on 08 December 1941. It was the one fortuitous result of Lolo Bosto’s 12 July 1939 assassination at the PASUDECO: there were persistent death threats from the assassins’ families which necessitated the final and irrevocable transfer of the Gonzalez-Escaler and the Gonzalez-Arnedo families to Manila. It was sheer serendipity for early in 1942, American reconnaissance planes sighted several Japanese Army trucks parked beside the Gonzalez-Sioco mansion and dropped a bomb on it. They also dropped bombs on the nearby Apalit bridge to block Japanese movement in the area.
Tito Rogie and Tita Luding and their young children had been the last residents [ my father's eldest half brother Rogerio Escaler Gonzalez, his wife Lourdes David Salgado-Palanca, and their elder children Carmelita "Mely," Renato "Ato," Leonides "Leony," and Rogerio Jr. "Jerry." ] Tito Rogie had supervised the hiding of Lola Florencia’s 1880s “FS” monogrammed Paris porcelain service by Mansard and of Lola Matea’s 1890s ”MR” “Sulipan” Paris porcelain service by Ch. Pillivuyt & Cie. in several Martabana jars, some buried under the house, and the others buried in the garden. [ After The War, Tito Rogie was able to retrieve much of Lola Florencia's "FS" porcelain service as it was buried under the house, but much of Lola Matea's "MR" "Sulipan" porcelain service, buried in the garden, was destroyed. ]
Also destroyed was the beautiful, nearly-lifesize ivory image of “Santa Maria Magdalena” and its giltwood “carroza,” the most beautiful “paso” during the Holy Week processions in Apalit from the 1880s to the PreWar.
Gone in one swoop were the beautiful collections of the distinguished patriarch, Don Dr. Joaquin Gonzalez de los Angeles y Lopez, who at one time, from the 1870s – 80s, was the country’s preeminent medical doctor [ specialized in ophthalmology in Paris under Dr. Louis de Wecker, who years later mentored Dr. Jose Rizal ] and was one of only two representatives of Pampanga province to the 1898 Malolos Congress [ the other was Don Francisco Rodriguez Ynfante ]. He had an extensive library of leatherbound books from Europe. The “Sala” living room featured carved and upholstered furniture which he had brought from Europe, as well as religious and secular oil paintings, pairs of large Satsuma porcelain vases from Japan, and chandeliers and lamps of Bohemian crystal. His “cabecera” dining table for 36 persons featured silver serving pieces and centerpieces from Europe as well as an ornate dinner service of Paris porcelain by the firm of Mansard. The “capilla” of the mansion [ beside the "escalera principal" staircase ], which doubled as the guest room, was filled with precious ivory “santos”: several nearly lifesize and many smaller ones in “virinas” glass domes. His ten sons played and learned useful crafts with European toys and machines.
My father recalled: “The elders observed that the brusque, rude, and brutal ‘Japanese soldiers’ were often actually Koreans pressed into service in the Japanese Imperial Army. Many of the genuine Japanese, specially the officers, were actually educated, honorable, and decent individuals.”
ESCALER
During The War, Tito Willy [ Wilfrido Escaler Gonzalez ] was madly in love with the beauteous society belle Emma Benitez of Pagsanjan, Laguna [ she later married the patrician architect Luis Maria Zaragoza Araneta of Calle R. Hidalgo, Manila ]. Believing that the family would be safer in faraway and inaccessible Pagsanjan, he brought most of the Gonzalez-Escaler family there. He even managed to convince his aged maternal grandmother, Dona Sabina Sioco de Escaler [ o 1858 - + 1950 ], already in her mid-80s, to brave the transfer. Imagine the sight of the petite octogenarian Dona Sabina Sioco de Escaler — at that time Pampanga’s single richest hacendera — wearing her characteristically patched up skirt and kimona helplessly and pitifully perched on top of various sacks and baskets on a rickety “do – car” [ a horse - drawn car, whatever that was ] making her way under the searing summer sun to distant Pagsanjan, Laguna…
During Liberation [ end of February 1945 ], like so many others, Dona Sabina Escaler’s house on Calle Herran corner M.H. del Pilar in Ermita was torched and burned to the ground. My first cousin Renato “Ato” Palanca Gonzalez vividly remembers that not only was Lola Sabina’s Ermita altar full of antique ivory “santos” in virinas, it also had several nearly lifesize ivory images, since Lola Sabina seemed partial to such devotional articles. Dona Sabina Sioco de Escaler was a generous benefactress of the Catholic Church. She was a principal benefactress of the Franciscans in Intramuros; she was a devotee of San Francisco de Asis and San Antonio de Padua and always contributed generously during their fiestas. During PostWar, she even sent a large amount in USD $ to Rome for the restoration of a major basilica there.
ARNEDO
My father’s maternal first cousin, Juanito “Ito” Arnedo Ballesteros, recalled: “I was about eight years old then. We were at Lola Titay’s house in Sulipan [ the 1848 Arnedo-Sioco ancestral house ] when the Japanese soldiers came. They gathered most of the barrio people and made everyone kneel down in the big “sala” [ "Salon de Baile" ] as they lectured. The group was instructed to bow every so often. I stayed in the small “sala” [ the real "Sala" ] between the bedrooms playing with old wine glasses, pretending they were cars. After the lecture, everyone was allowed to leave.”
After that, leaving only a couple to keep watch over the house, Lola Titay and Lola Ines and everybody else left the house to seek refuge in relatively inaccessible Barrio Tabuyuc, which was cut off and isolated from the rest of Apalit town by the wide Pampanga River and the absence of bridges. They were joined there by many Arnedo and Espiritu relatives as the days passed.
The Japanese soldiers took over Lolo Ariong’s house in nearby Barangay Capalangan and made it their garrison [ former Pampanga Governor Macario Arnedo y Sioco ]. The barbaric soldiers ruined much of the furniture and decorative arts collection so zealously gathered by Lola Maruja [ Don Macario's wife Dona Maria Espiritu y Dungo, o 1876 - + 1934 ]. They chopped much of the antique furniture into firewood for their baths; slashed the ancestral portraits and the paintings; smashed the chandeliers, mirrors, marble top tables, large vases, and ceramic pedestals; broke all of Lola Maruja’s treasured bibelots in their vitrines. The Barrio Capalangan folk liked to laugh among themselves about the “sakang” [ bowlegged ] Japanese soldiers taking their hot baths in “cauas” iron vats and steel drums over bonfires in the big garden of former Governor Arnedo’s residence.
REYES
When the Japanese troops were approaching, the Reyes-Pangan family in Barrio Paralaya [ poblacion ], Arayat, Pampanga, hurriedly evacuated to a relative’s secluded “casa hacienda” plantation house in a barrio of adjacent Candaba town. My maternal great grandmother, Maria “Bang” Dizon Pangan-Reyes, tasked her eldest grandson [ 15 years old ], my uncle Emilio “Jun” Quiason Reyes Jr., to carry a rolled-up package of “kacha” muslin containing her silver [ solid silver flatware service engraved with "Maria Pangan" for 18 pax ], and instructed him that he was to carry it everywhere they evacuated, that under no circumstances was he to leave it behind. However much she prized it for sentimental reasons, she knew that it could serve as hard currency for the family should the absolute need arise.
Back in Barrio Paralaya, Arayat, my maternal grandfather Emilio “Miling” Pangan Reyes and his younger brother Benito “Bito” were taken by Japanese soldiers to the garrison along with other male neighbors on suspicion of being guerrillas. They weren’t, but they were supplying foodstuffs to the Resistance and helping with logistics. They feared that they would be executed immediately. During the evenings, several prisoners would be called, provided with spades, marched some distance away, and an hour later gunshots would be heard. The prisoners were being made to dig their own graves. Miling’s wife Pacing and her children would often visit a friend’s house overlooking the garrison, tearfully hoping to catch a glimpse of Miling and Bito. But after a few days, the two brothers were inexplicably released. Bito wanted to go back and thank the commander for their release, but Miling refused and insisted on going straight home. Half an hour later, their remaining male neighbors were executed, shot to their deaths.
Miling’s saintly wife, Paz “Pacing” Aguilar Quiason, occupied herself with the secondhand goods trade in Arayat town. Along with her young children, she unraveled new “de hilo” cotton material, as well as old clothes and old textiles for their threads, spooled them together, and sold them at the market. She also rolled cigarettes. Dealing in used merchandise, Pacing made a decent living throughout The War, although she suffered greatly healthwise from its privations. She died of cancer of the sinus in 1949.
Miling had promised his pretty eldest daughter Felicisima “Sis” that if she learned the piano accompaniment to her eldest brother Emilio Jr.’s “Jun’s” violin piece, he would reward her with a trip to Manila to visit his only sister Piciang Reyes-Berenguer and her daughters Paquing, Chang, Blanding, and Ched. Sis did learn the piano accompaniment quickly. As promised, they set out for Manila… They rode in the front of a truck filled with cavans of rice for delivery covered by a tarpaulin. Hours later at nightfall, at a checkpoint in Caloocan, they were stopped by the Japanese soldiers and ordered to disembark. The soldiers did the same with all the other arriving vehicles. The Japanese soldiers ordered the men and the boys separated from the women and the girls. Feisty Miling, a truly fearless man, absolutely refused to be separated from his distraught daughter and threatened to engage the soldiers in a fistfight to the finish. The soldiers relented and allowed Miling and his daughter to walk away. Miling later told his daughter Sis that he had been ready to die at that moment rather than give her up without a good, honorable fight. Afterwards, with no transportation to Manila, Miling and Sis spent the night under a “santol” tree some distance away from the road. He could only imagine what had happened to the hapless women and the girls separated from the men and the boys by the Japanese soldiers that evening.
Miling and Bito had a widowed sister, Simplicia “Piciang” [ Mrs. Adolfo Linares Berenguer ], who was between them in age. She had stayed in Manila with her four daughters Francisca “Paquing,” Josefina “Chang,” Blandina “Blanding,” and Mercedes “Ched.” Despite Miling’s repeated requests that his two younger siblings and their families come home to Arayat, Piciang and Bito chose to remain in Manila, insisting that it was safe because it was an “Open City.” During Liberation in late February of 1945, as the Americans bombed all the bridges spanning the Pasig River, Piciang was separated from her daughters Paquing and Ched as she was in Sampaloc while the two were across the Pasig River at their house along Taft Avenue fronting the PGH Philippine General Hospital. During the shelling, Paquing was hit by shrapnel at the side of her head and Ched was hit by shrapnel on one leg. Both almost bled to death but survived. The courageous Piciang, desperately wanting to be reunited with her daughters [ and wearing a memorable flaming orange pantsuit made of US Army material ], crossed the Pasig River on pontoon bridges with the American soldiers and rode in a tank towards PGH, where she found her daughters severely injured and in extreme pain but thankfully alive.
In their own words:
“We transferred to the PGH, even if we just lived right across Taft Avenue, because one day that early February, one of the six Japanese officers occupying the upper floor of our house told Tata Bito: “Bito! Bito! I take all of you to hospital… now!!!” Those Japanese officers had been kind to us because they said they too had children back in Japan. So all of us hurriedly gathered some belongings — rice, canned goods, clothes, shoes, books — and waited for his signal. Waving a white flag, I cannot remember if it was a Japanese flag, shouting Japanese and constantly making signals in all directions, he led us across Taft Avenue which simply couldn’t be crossed because of the Japanese snipers. We made our way, jumping over the many dead and decaying bodies which littered both lanes of Taft Avenue. That was unforgettable!!! He led us inside the hospital and endorsed us to some people there. We knew that we would be safe at the PGH because hospitals were no-fire zones. He did not say goodbye and we never, ever saw him again. That Japanese officer saved our lives.”
“We actually enjoyed our first days at the PGH. There were so many people we knew and there was a sense of community. It was fun!!! But then the burning began… when the nearby Ateneo was burning it was so bright at night that we could actually read our books, something which we had not been able to do for a long time because there was no more electricity. PGH was finally closed off: no one could enter but then no one could also leave. We had no idea then that the plan was really to kill everyone inside the compound. Then the situation really deteriorated: there was the artesian well at the back of the PGH compound where everyone drew their water… it came to the point that the people going there were being killed too, shot to death. It all became absolutely dreadful… the ones looking out the windows reported that the people in the streets were already being killed. Frightening!!!”
“That horrible day was 11 February 1945, the feast day of Our Lady of Lourdes… We had already been in a ward at the ground floor of the PGH for a week. We had attended the Holy Mass at 7:00 a.m. at another ward. We had returned to our ward by 8:00 a.m.. Dionisio the cook and the houseboys were preparing breakfast at an improvised kitchen in the garden. Suddenly, there were loud explosions and it all became as dark as night!!! We couldn’t see anything so we were screaming, shouting, and running in circles inside the ward. The glass windows were all breaking. Then something exploded inside the room!!! But we were all in shock that we didn’t know what had happened, we just kept running about. It turned out it was an incendiary bomb fired by the Americans, and everyone in the room was hit by shrapnel!!!”
Paquing recalled: “I was already burning, but I didn’t know… The moment Tata Bito and the men saw me, they pushed me to the floor and rolled me around and around to put out the fire and then wrapped me in blankets and mattresses, mattresses and blankets and everything else.”
Ched remembered: “I was hit by shrapnel — bigger than a dinner plate — and it lodged between my stomach and my right leg. But I also didn’t know… I was still running. An old American man, a patient, saw me and just stared at the metal jutting out from my body. I just sat down on a chair because I was so tired.”
“Dionisio the cook was killed by the shelling. He was found dismembered later that day. The other houseboys must have been killed too, because they never turned up again.”
QUIASON
*unfinished*
I encourage you to share yours.
*unfinished*
October 21, 2009 at 9:31 am (2000s Philippines, Angst, Current Events, Random memories, The Global Crowd, The Ilocanos, The Manilenos, Tristesse)
Let us all remember that while the weather is sunny and warm in Manila, typhoon “Ramil” [ international code name: "Lupit" ] is battering Northern Luzon and our already suffering Ilocano brothers. It comes so soon after supertyphoon “Pepeng” [ international code name: "Parma" ] battered and flooded Northern Luzon, inundating Pangasinan and causing landslides to isolate Baguio City and much of the Mountain Province. The prices of vegetables from the North have skyrocketed, making these a luxury instead of a necessity on the family table. If you can afford to “eat your veggies” these days, you’re rich.
AY, the travails of being in the “Typhoon Belt”!!! 
October 19, 2009 at 8:00 am (2000s Philippines, Current Events, Family Traditions, Humor, Random memories, Religious Traditions, The Cebuanos, The Davaoenos, The Global Crowd, The Ilocanos, The Ilonggos, The Laguna Tagalogs, The Manilenos, The Negrenses, The Pampanguenos, The Tarlaquenos, The Tayabenses / Quezonians)
Assumption Convent High School Batch 1969 celebrated their 40th anniversary “velada” last night, Sunday, 18 October 2009 at the auditorium of the San Lorenzo campus. They were some of the most accomplished ladies in the land. Among the ruby jubilarians were Tess Barcelon, Lody Barranda, Jojo Borromeo, Charo Cancio, Lynnie Castillo, Fay Chan, Annette Chanco, Coritha, Tutti Crisostomo, Aida Cui, Nini Diaz, Deng Dimayuga, Emy Faustino, Paula Feria, Gigi Fernandez, Nena Fule, Vicky Ignacio, Stella Illustre, Ito Kahn, Roxanne Lapus, Tess Lopez, Clarita Magat, Marivic McCann, Annie Molina, Mayen Ordoveza, Nenuca Ortigas, Mau Padilla, Lidia Pamontjak, Annie Rocha, Rose Rodriguez, Marivic Rufino, Tina Samson, Helen Silva, Pandy Singian, Tina Ty, et. al..
Happy Homecoming, Ladies!!! 
************************************
“Walking Through Years of Friendship: The Assumption High School Class of 1969″
By: Tess Z. Lopez
It’s show time for the glittering rubies of High School Class 1969!
As we prepared for the velada, we swung to the tune of “Pretty Woman, in celebration of life as fulfilled women in our chosen vocations. We rocked to the beat of “ These boots were made for walking” remembering the twelve years we walked together at the Assumption Convent, coping with the disciplinary measures of the Assumption nuns, cramming for quizzes and tests and, on the fun side, sneaking out of the watchful eye of Mang Segundo to eat at Blums Coffee Shop in old Herran! Those were fun days when life seemed so simple and everything a bed of roses. After all, we belonged to the Age of Aquarius and “Flower Power’ was the “in” thing. We became idealists, seeking peace and harmony in a world racked by global turmoil.
As we bade goodbye to the ivy walls of the Assumption after graduation, we began our individual journeys to fulfill our destinies. We were full of queries where life would lead us to and what the future had in store for us. Young as we were, we were charged with an adventurous spirit, and were willing to challenge whatever stood in our way of fulfilling our dreams. And true enough, with determination, we found our niches in the world. Many of us became full time mothers, others chose to pursue a career or business while raising children, a few have remained single. No one chose the religious life!
Forty years after high school, we come together again to celebrate the friendships that were nurtured through the years. Thanks to the Age of Technology, the Internet has successfully located classmates who have been silent in the different corners of the world. Our friendships, aged by the passing years, resonate with the happy and sad times that have been shared through the years. Age and the passing winds of time have developed new episodes in our lives. A number of us have become widows, others are now young doting grandmothers and many have retired from their careers. A few have left us forever to live in eternal peace. We may not be as physically fit as forty years ago, but the class still holds on to a wellspring of zest and enthusiasm for life, seeking new dreams to pursue, never holding back to the ongoing challenges of life.
In whatever path of life my classmates have taken, I take pride that all of them have become the “ideal woman” that the Assumption education prayed we would be. In their sphere of life and work, Class ’69 has given dignity to womanhood, shared their material and spiritual resources to their families and workmates, taken up their crosses with strength and patience and in a thousand ways given of themselves for the betterment of society. Truly, this has been the dream of our Mother Foundress! As the curtain goes up on October 18, forty glittering rubies of High School Class 1969 will bring the show down in a dance medley celebrating Life, Love and Friendship.
October 11, 2009 at 7:00 pm (2000s Philippines, Angst, Current Events, Manila Houses, Personal, Random memories, The Global Crowd, The Manilenos, Tristesse)
A priest said it so well in a recent homily: “The Filipino stops being a Disaster Himself… during a Disaster.” Comic, but True.
There were so many instances of True Heroism during the Typhoon “Ondoy” Deluge of 26 September 2009, Saturday. Many people risked their lives to bring others to safety. Indeed, some of them lost their very lives in the process. Many people went out of their way to ensure the safety, not only of immediate family, but also of friends and neighbors. Stranded commuters shared their resources with each other during those endless hours. Many soldiers rose valiantly to the occasion and showed amazing strength and resolve as they undertook rescue operations in very difficult conditions.
No sooner than the Typhoon “Ondoy” floodwaters of 26 September, Saturday, started receding that many, many charitable Filipinos [ ladies, gentlemen, and yes, even children ] looked at their pantries and storage rooms, and in many cases even went to the groceries and supermarkets, to purvey essential goods to share with the flood victims. What was all the more remarkable was that many of these individuals chose to bring and share these essential goods with the flood victims themselves as one-family relief operations. With altruistic resolve they quietly headed to Marikina, Cainta, and other affected areas and generously distributed relief goods to their devastated fellow Filipinos. And they did it without any urging other than their own.
The Filipino expatriates all over the world also rose gallantly to the calamity. Within 24 hours of Typhoon “Ondoy’s” floodwaters, Filipino expatriate communities started gathering relief goods and big packages started arriving in Manila from the four corners of the globe. Through TV, YouTube, and Facebook, Filipinos abroad faithfully kept track of the calamitous developments and responded accordingly.
It was a Disaster. But the unprecedented Concern that Filipinos showed to their affected countrymen made it another proud and great moment for the country. It was something that raised The Filipino to the High Altar of Humanity.
October 4, 2009 at 6:31 pm (1900s Philippines, 2000s Philippines, Angst, Current Events, Personal, Random memories, The Cebuanos, The Davaoenos, The Global Crowd, The Ilocanos, The Ilonggos, The Laguna Tagalogs, The Manilenos, The Negrenses, The Pampanguenos, The Past, The Tarlaquenos, The Tayabenses / Quezonians, Tristesse)
When I was very young and blissfully ignorant, and that was many, many, many years ago, the arrival of a typhoon was a happy development, specially if it reached Signal Number Two, because that meant that classes were suspended. We children could look forward to playing most of the day inside Lola Charing’s big house, which was impervious to floodwaters and strong winds. We liked to “play house,” “cooking-cooking,” Barbie dolls, G.I Joe figures, “Sungka,” “Piko,” “Patintero,” Hide and Seek, Exchange Places [ in the elegant living room, of all places ], ”Old Maid,” “Monopoly,” “Scrabble,” etc.. We could watch our favorite cartoons on TV in the afternoon [ "Superman," "Aquaman," "Mightor," et. al. ], and eat all the sugary delights — today’s “tooth decay specials” — we wanted from Lola Charing’s fully-stocked kitchen, and I mean fully-stocked [ "Selecta" and "Magnolia" ice cream; "Pare" Bito Nuqui's homemade "Mantecado" ice cream of carabao's milk and slivers of "dayap" lime rind { IF there was any left after Brother Andrew and us hungry grandchildren! }; Ate Talia Padilla's homemade cakes, "ensaimadas," "sans rival," traditional pastries like "panaritas," "caramelitos," etc.; "barquillos" and "broas" cookies from Lola Nena Gala, "Panaderia de Molo" cookies from Lola Gely Lopez, "See's" chocolates, etc. ], and from Aling Maring’s and Aling Esa’s nearby sari-sari stores [ "Sarsi" soda, "Mirinda" soda, "Tarzan" and "Texas" bubble gum, "Choc-Nut" peanut chocolates, "Butterball" butterscotch candy, "White Rabbit" candy, etc. ] for “merienda.” Those simple pleasures were what typhoons meant to us grandchildren.
Typhoons then didn’t seem so bad. Yes, we would see helicopter footages of the Central Luzon provinces — Bulacan, Nueva Ecija, Pampanga, Tarlac — inundated in floodwaters, but everyone was smiling and giggling as they waved to the cameras of RPN Channel 9 [ or did President Marcos or Madame Marcos also order them to do that??? ]. And because we were stuck in the house with Lola Charing and Ate Talia during such days, we grandchildren also saw, to our collective chagrin, more episodes of “Aawitan Kita” starring the irrepressible Armida Siguion-Reyna and other howling singers. I remember “Didang,” a particularly strong typhoon in the early 1970s. Now that one caused a lot of damage! We also had no school for a week! Yippee!
Thirty years later and Everything is so different now…
The coming of a typhoon nowadays in the 2000s means Difficulty, Desperation, Destruction, and yes, even Death.
I had not realized until now that one could actually get killed in a flood. I stupidly thought that it was only a matter of swimming well with all kinds of strokes — doggie-style, backstroke, freestyle, butterfly, breaststroke, etc.. Yes, one could get electrocuted by an open electric wire in the water, or, fall into an open manhole [ what with all the steel manhole covers being stolen for sale to steel recyclers! ]. Or contract the dreaded “Leptospirosis” [ infection from rodents' feces ] by open cuts and wounds. But what I didn’t know was that one could just be swept away by the rampaging waters, and be hit, all too helplessly, by all kinds of flotsam and jetsam — floating vehicles, uprooted trees, loosened concrete, wooden beams, G.I sheets, stones, and all — until one is simply… DEAD. Just like the villains in those “Indiana Jones” adventure movies!!!
Last night, I was at Santo Domingo Church for the third day Novena and Mass in honor of the “Santo Rosario,” Our Lady of the Rosary [ an Old World tradition I took from my Lola Charing ] . We lifted our hands and the “Our Father” was sung beautifully by the grand choir and, and oddly enough, rather soulfully by the congregation. I thought of all our fellow, suffering Filipinos and the terrible videos seen on TV and YouTube… and my mind’s eye replayed the horrors over and over, and over again. And I wept… Of course, Social Me kept my composure [ ramrod straight posture! Queen Mary-esque pulchritude ] but the tears just flowed. I was lucky, only a few, unused things got wet… but many other people lost their livelihood, hard-earned possessions, homes… and lives!!! The Sheer Devastation wrought by typhoon “Ondoy’s” floods on Filipino Life was just so awful, wasn’t it?
And now, there’s supertyphoon [ first time I've heard the term!!! ] “Pepeng” whirling towards the Philippines… Ohmygod. What worse devastation can that one bring???
It’s Time… It’s Time to Pray, and Pray Hard, like we never did before.
It turns out that our Old People, who prayed hard and prayed often, really knew what they were doing. 
*unfinished*
October 1, 2009 at 7:21 am (1900s Philippines, 2000s Philippines, Angst, Current Events, Personal, Random memories, The Global Crowd, The Past, Tristesse)
From now on, I will no longer accept any comments from amorphous entities in cyberspace. There are far too many stupid and irritating comments coming from nobodies who don’t have the guts to back their comments up with their actual identities. I don’t see why anyone has to hide behind a pseudonym when I myself am laid out all over the place for everyone to see. I don’t have anything to hide and neither should any of my readers.
From now on, comments with no real names, no email addresses that can be confirmed, and no reliable identity checks will no longer be allowed.
I don’t care if it means a lessening of the hits this blog receives per day. Because I never did care about those things in the first place.
September 26, 2009 at 3:10 pm (2000s Philippines, Angst, Current Events, Manila Houses, Personal, Random memories, The Cebuanos, The Davaoenos, The Global Crowd, The Ilocanos, The Ilonggos, The Laguna Tagalogs, The Manilenos, The Negrenses, The Pampanguenos, The Tarlaquenos, The Tayabenses / Quezonians, Tristesse)
Manila and environs literally went “Under the Sea” today with the 24 hour nonstop rains of typhoon “Ondoy”…
It would be ideal and so “above it all” for me to say that I wasn’t affected at all by the flooding of typhoon “Ondoy” [ international code name: "Ketsana" ]. OF COURSE I WAS. Although the house is built on high ground, water just came from nowhere at 11:00 a.m. and quickly inundated the basement level, where I had a lot of good things stored for future use. Antique Filipino furniture, paintings, art books, vintage photographs, cushions, antique textiles, silver, china, crystal, impedimenta, etc. all went underwater for many minutes before they were patiently gathered one by one by the industrious and conscientious househelp. Surveying the catastrophe hours later, I was happy enough that the things were not lost; true, several were damaged, but that’s Life! I was actually more concerned with the health of the staff.
I thought I had it bad, at least until I saw the TV coverage hours later. Ohmygod!!! Quel desastre!!!
So where were you???
