videos of manila before world war two

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Glowing Citation of Francis Pasion's Jay from Nigel Andrews, The Financial Times

Movie bliss-out means business

By Nigel Andrews

The 65th Venice Film Festival delivers a thrill to the eyes before a film has even been seen. As if leaping from a screen into the future, three sculpted lions are seen part-emerged – a head, front and feet here, head and claws there, face only of the last in sequence – from a giant white cloth covering the front of the Palazzo del Cinema.

Spectacular? Yes. Symbolic? That too. Clearly, say the lions, those in charge of this dream event in the film calendar, a movie bliss-out on a lagoon, have their more active dream for the future. A foundation stone was laid on day two for a new cinema palace planned for 2011. It will bring fresh eminence to the Mostra del Cinema. It will tell the rival Rome Film Festival to get lost or get busy catching up. And if we ever thought Venice was a mere folderol, a solace to ease the film junkie’s long withdrawal pains after Cannes, director Marco Müller, who has signed a new four-year contract, means business.

Müller must cater for a world in love with audiovisual saturation and cultural completism. Does that mean the days of wine and roses are over? We who love the Lido gig’s reflective pace hope not. Films are allowed to breathe and blossom here: even a slapstick-comedy opener such as the Coens’ Burn After Reading. Just as the crowds could almost touch George Clooney and Brad Pitt during the stars’ gala wave-and-walk-through on first night, critics are allowed up-close dalliance with the film’s fine-tuned fun – a plot about CIA spies accidentally rumbled, then methodically blackmailed, by a gymnasium assistant (Frances McDormand) with dreams of cosmetic makeover – in a festival where quality isn’t crowded out.

Detractors might say this has its downside. We’re happy enough to linger over the Coens, with a smart cast – Clooney (left) and Pitt showing their comedy chops, McDormand’s naïve-as-a-fox heroine (memories of Fargo’s Marge Gunderson), John Malkovich and Tilda Swinton in expert support – being led through a movie where every line counts and every look counts double. Hollywood made us medium-happy, too, with Guillermo Arriaga’s The Burning Plain (pictured below), a subtly epic tale of two women living different lives in different times, with Charlize Theron gnawed by slowly revealed guilts and griefs in present-day Oregon while Kim Basinger finds a tragic love-rapture in sunnier, earlier Mexico. (Are the two women connected? No plot spoilers from me.)

But this year’s Venice line-up sagged a little early on between high points. We had time to ponder too many mixed-nation thrillers grimy with hokum. Barbet Schroeder’s Inju follows a French crime writer (Benoît Magimel) to Japan to duel with a serial-killing psychopathic rival in a film of popcorn Schadenfreude. Yu Likwai’s Plastic City is set in São Paulo and promised a Chinese visionary’s insight into Brazilian social meltdown. Yu is the regular cinematographer of leading director Jia Zhang-ke. But the film explodes into multiple fragments, part gangster movie, part identity drama, part lens artist’s visual brainstorm.

As I write, steadiness is creeping back into the competition. Halfway, the best in show is a low-budget tale of obsession by an Iranian working in the US. Proving that international mixes can work, Amer Nedari’s Vegas: A True Story presses our faces to the window of a poor family’s bungalow on the edge of the Nevada Babylon – the Strip a garish shimmer in the background – as their slender fortunes turn to calamity. Sold the notion that a suitcase full of millions lies under their backyard, father, son and sceptical mum heave to with spades and mattocks. The loot keeps eluding them; the garden keels into ruin; the house becomes a mining camp, filthy with dust and despairing hope.

Naderi made an early gem of new Iranian cinema, The Runner, before relocating to America. Vegas may prove his naturalisation project, a raw tragedy in the tradition, if not with the bank-breaking budget, of Stroheim’s Greed. By the end an unknown cast has become a trio of indelible faces, a patch of land a glimpse of purgatory.

Curios are starting to crowd up for the Golden Lion’s attention. Turkey’s Milk, the growing-up tale of a poet, has a gobsmacking opening. A cauldron of milk, a woman hung upside-down, a live snake extracted from her mouth. Whenever this scene is shown there should be a sales lady in the auditorium with a tray of smelling salts. France’s L’Autre is more long-distance in its weirdness. A looks-proud, independent-minded thirtysomething, played by the mesmerising Dominique Blanc (face of Jeanne Moreau mixed with Bette Davis), discovers she is a fraction too late to throw over a stable relationship for the fugitive dream of freedom and love on the hoof. She becomes – perhaps she always was – borderline psychotic and over-the-border delusional. When you see your Doppelgänger on a passing train, it is time to settle down or hire a shrink.

On the Venice fringe there have been two films to cheer: an Italian reconstruction and a Philippine satire. Pier Paolo Pasolini’s 1963 La Rabbia (‘Rage’) was a potion of screen rhetoric, never before seen in the undiluted form the director intended. The original producers wanted to “balance” PPP’s jeremiad against class and capital – which becomes much more as the winds of prophecy fill his sails – with a rightwing film-essay from author Giovanni Guareschi. The latter is now discarded. Giuseppe Bertolucci (Bernardo’s brother) has re-assembled the old material, added some never seen, and puts before Italy and the world Pasolini’s true original rage, a scintillating montage of 20th-century news footage – from Mussolini to Marilyn Monroe – unified and signposted by a genius’s vision.

Perfidious media managers; treachery in the name of truth. They are everywhere today, not least in the lies of “reality TV”. Francis Xavier Pasion’s Jay, from the Philippines, is an acutely funny tale of intrusive telly reporters, bearing down on a family bereaved by a gay son’s murder to make their grief part of a nation’s infotainment. They start by poking a lens at the family’s faces as they learn the news; they end by getting them to act, or re-enact, every emotional convulsion that needs a second, third or umpteenth take. The remuneration? The reporters will help find the son’s killer. By the time they do, even the murderer, we know, will be signing release forms and hungrily securing his 15 minutes of fame.

sampaloc and pageantry

during the late 1960s to the 1970s, people in sampaloc were generally obsessed with billiards, boxing, basketball and beauty pageants. during fiestas and summer breaks, the streets in our area were inaccessible to vehicular traffic to give way to these special events. more incredibly, these events became perfect opportunities for coaches, talent scouts and managers to shape stars of every skill and magnitude for the big time.

for instance, many national collegiate athletic association (ncaa), university athletics association of the philippines (uaap) and philippine basketball association (pba) players began their illustrious careers as participants in inter-barangay basketball leagues all over sampaloc. throughout my grade school, high school and early college days at u.s.t., i saw the rise of bogs adornado, danny florencio, ed cordero, edmund yee, frankie natividad, bong hawkins (who eventually moved to perpetual help college in his college years), pido jarencio, bobby jose, rabbi tomacruz and ej feihl in sampaloc’s gyms and city streets.

years before he became a national icon and world-class champion, efren “bata” reyes used to frequent the billiards hall at the corner of dapitan and navarra—a stone’s throw away from the window of u.s.t. high school library.

many boxers, including former world boxing champion rolando navarette (“the bad boy from dadiangas”), trained rigorously for their amateur bouts in a rusty old gym along paquita, an alley off morayta and far eastern university.

but perhaps, sampaloc’s biggest contribution to philippine popular culture is the proliferation of beauty connoisseurs, beauty contestants and beauty pageants in the district. sampaloc was home to many of the country’s nationally and internationally acclaimed beauty queens, models, designers, hair and make-up stylists and talent managers. many talent scouts discovered potential candidates for national beauty pageants in locations around the city’s schools and universities. soon, the talent scout and his/her cohorts took turns in transforming the new find. In this connection, nothing beats the story of tita beth (elizabeth sales), one of our neighbors in sampaloc and a good friend of my parents. just like my family, tita beth’s immediate family members are long-time sampaloc residents.

when i was about three years old, tita beth was pushed by fashion designer danny acuna to join ferdie villar’s annual miss republic of the philippines (miss r.p.) contest, a late 1960s-early 1970s local preliminary to the miss world pageant in london. tita beth was very reluctant to join the pageant because her family was very conservative. she was also an active student leader at the u.s.t. college of commerce. she wasn’t really into beauty contests.

but acuna was persistent. against the wishes of many family members and friends, tita beth was groomed and trained hurriedly at acuna’s atelier at the corner of governor forbes and espana. tita beth decided to give in for the sake of experience. being the well-bred woman that she is, tita beth easily made the final cut for the 1969 miss r.p. contest.

during the miss r.p. finals, tita beth bested heavy favorites like university of the philippines student vida valentina doria (1971 bb. pilipinas universe and miss photogenic at the 1971 miss universe pageant in miami beach), pacita eduarda guevara (1974 bb. pilipinas maja and maja internacional runner-up in spain) and marilou destreza (1969 mutya ng pilipinas runner-up). my tita beth, a pageant neophyte, was proclaimed runner-up to eventual winner feliza teresa nuevo miro.

after the pageant, tita beth became a celebrity of sorts in sampaloc and elsewhere. she modeled for a few designers and was invited as a sagala for countless santacruzans all over the country. despite her social commitments, tita beth completed her commerce degree at u.s.t. eventually, she married antique-born and ateneo-bred lawyer exequiel javier.

years later, tita beth’s brother-in-law evelio, then governor of antique province, was assassinated. tita beth became very active in street demonstrations against widespread government oppression and neglect. atty. javier was pushed to take the place of evelio and was subsequently elected as a governor (once) and as a congressman (four times). many believed that atty. javier’s impressive track record as a farmer, corporate lawyer, political leader and lawmaker was enhanced further by tita beth’s commitment and dedication as an amazing wife and mother. she was always behind her family. on top of these, tita beth has a distinguished career as a banker. truly, tita beth’s narrative is an amazing sampaloc success story.

it seems prodigious that there were many other beauty delegates who lived and/or studied in sampaloc. in fact, many of these women were university of santo tomas students: guia balmori (1938 miss philippines), teresita sanchez (1952 miss philippines universe), cristina pacheco (1953 miss philippines universe), bessie ocampo-buencamino (1954 miss philippines universe and miss universe semifinalist), isabel rodriguez (1956 miss philippines universe), pilar arciaga (1961 miss philippines international), cynthia ugalde (miss philippines international 1961), alice crisostomo (mutya ng pilipinas asia 1970 and miss asia runner-up), carolyn masibay (1971 mutya ng pilipinas asia and miss asia runner-up), armi barbara crespo (1972 bb. pilipinas universe and miss universe semifinalist), anette liwanag (1975 bb. pilipinas maja and maja internacional runner-up), evangeline evangelista (1976 mutya ng pilipinas tourism), maritoni judith daya (1988 bb. pilipinas tourism), jeanne therese hilario (1989 bb pilipinas maja, maja internacional runner-up, b.s. chemical engineering magna cum laude and national board exams topnotcher), gem padilla (1990 bb. pilipinas universe), jennifer pingree (1990 bb. pilipinas international), milarose javelosa (1990 bb. pilipinas tourism and medical doctor), mutya laxa (1990 bb. pilipinas runner-up, 1990 mutya ng pilipinas asia, 1992 miss asia-pacific runner-up), antoinette ballesteros (1990 mutya ng pilipinas world), gemith gemparo (1991 mutya ng pilipinas world, 1992 model of the world and commercial airline pilot), alma concepcion (1994 bb. pilipinas international and miss international finalist), gladys duenas (1994 bb. pilipinas international and miss international finalist), miriam quiambao (1999 bb. pilipinas universe, miss universe runner-up and television presenter), michelle cueva reyes (2000 bb. pilipinas runner-up, 2001 miss tourism international, 2002 miss tourism world and pediatric nurse), frances margaret arezza (2002 mutya ng pilipinas tourism), justine gabionza (2002 miss philippines-air and 2006 miss tourism queen international), jhezarie javier (2003 bb. pilipinas international and 2005 miss asean), and precious lara quigaman (2005 bb. pilipinas international and miss international).

other beauty queens from sampaloc included jennifer cortes (1978 bb. pilipinas universe), maria isabel lopez (1982 bb. pilipinas universe), corazon tierro (1984 bb. pilipinas runner-up), anthea robles (1988 bb. pilipinas international) and karen agustin (2002 bb. pilipinas universe).

fashion designers and stylists who either lived, studied or began their careers in sampaloc included danny acuna, sonia aquino, carlos burgos, alex carbonell, steve de leon, rudy diego, jun encarnacion, grace lagman, jay lozada, tanya mendoza, fernando marasigan, leslie ocampo, freddie reyes, ricky reyes, renee salud, and violet. at some point in their lives, these individuals discovered, managed and/or mentored nationally and internationally-acclaimed athletes, beauty queens, film stars and models.

these days, fewer students and graduates from reputable schools can be persuaded to join beauty pageants. these contests seemed to have lost their vitality and touch in many parts of the country. beauty pageants are no longer regarded highly because many people maintain that these contests commodify women. pundits declare that beauty pageants served their purpose from the 1900s (when pre-world war two carnival queens were selected annually) to the 1960s and the early 1970s (when gemma cruz, gloria diaz, aurora pijuan and margarita moran bagged international titles). by the 1970s and the 1980s, filipino women have many other options.

but not in sampaloc. there will always be billiards, boxing, basketball and most especially, beauty connoisseurs, beauty contestants and beauty pageants in my side of the city. the persistent blurring of high and low cultures all over the district will always be difficult to explain or account for.

arsenio lacson (governor forbes) street

nagtahan bridge is one of the gateways to sampaloc

don quijote between espana and p. florentino

view of don quijote from tinapayan, along dapitan

railroad behind algeciras and antipolo streets

u.s.t. faculty of medicine and surgery

view of the u.s.t. grandstand and athletic field

u.s.t. chapel and ecclesiastical faculties

u.s.t. main building

view of u.s.t. fra angelico (architecture and fine arts) building

view of u.s.t. campus from the arsenio lacson (governor forbes) gate

early boyhood friends

my early boyhood friends were either neighbors in sampaloc or classmates from santo tomas.

tito tony and tita josie briola alejo, friends of my father at the old civil service commission, rented an apartment unit owned by members of my grandfather’s first family. the unit was located right behind our house. the alejos had several children but i was particularly close to ronnie, the alejos’ third child, because he was about my age. ronnie was particularly remarkable because he played all kinds of sports and he was some kind of a bully in the neighborhood. he also won fistfights with children from the other city streets. it didn’t matter whether i was studying in a private school and he was studying in a public school (p. gomez or juan luna, i think). he became one of my early boyhood friends because he was my exact opposite. ronnie introduced me to kids from don quijote, maria cristina, m. de la fuente, dapitan, dos castillas, miguelin, constancia, algeciras, antipolo and pi y margal streets. my parents had no idea that daily, during siesta time, ronnie would drag me to play “tumbang preso,” “patintero,”” siyato,”“jolens,” “teks,” and “tanzan” with children from the other sampaloc streets. my father was working in his ermita office and my mother was usually asleep after lunch. quite often, i managed to sneak out of the house without leaving a trace. this was all happening between 1972 and 1977.

but i stopped playing with ronnie and when i began serving mass as an acolyte of u.s.t.’s santissimo rosario parish. ronnie and i saw each other even less frequently after his mother passed away. after tito tony remarried, ronnie and his siblings left their apartment unit and transferred to another house along don quijote near espana and ramon magsaysay high school. when tito tony died, his second wife sold their house and ronnie was forced to live with relatives elsewhere. i do not know where he is today.

other than ronnie, i also had other playmates. quite remarkably, i still remember their names: chippy and jonathan calata; chito soller; jouel and lynette marasigan lava (originally from isabela); vicky and raymund burgos; winnie madarang (originally from cagayan); alvin and albert realuyo (originally from oas, albay); sergio lazatin (originally from pampanga); catherine de leon and her friend mary jane cruz (she became jamie rivera, one-time miss saigon in london’s west end and contemporary philippine popular music’s “inspirational diva”); ramil perez (originally from batangas); nonoy singson (originally from cagayan), eric tierro (originally from olongapo; his sister corazon became bb. pilipinas runner-up to 1984 bb. pilipinas universe and miss universe runner-up desiree verdadero); joel and ana lopez uy (originally from aklan); and irene, iris and richie valdez (originally from zamboanga city). one particular friend, rodel pelobello, passed away when i was eleven or twelve. i also remember having friends whose family names i do not remember: rizza (who was run over by a truck) and another ronnie (who migrated to america with his family during the late 1970s). between 5:00 and 7:00 p.m. we all played soccer baseball across our house. other times, we played hide-and-seek, “piko” and “step-no.” during each game, decorative plants, trees, cars, windshields, glass windows and people who pass through were attacked severely. quite often, we were scolded by our parents and the rest of the neighborhood. but we simply did not care. as kids, we took each verbal lashing in stride. we just reminded ourselves that nobody can stop us from playing street games anytime. and play, we always did.

in early primary school, i had three close friends: angelica ilagan, nicolas acal and rodolfo vilan jr. i do not know exactly how the three became close to me. but i faintly remember that angelica, nicky and rodolfo were my classmates since prep or grade one. we ate merienda together during recess time and talked over the telephone before bedtime. but one day, angelica drowned in a beach when we were eight. nicolas went to maryland with his family when we were nine. rodolfo migrated to ontario, canada when we were ten. suddenly, all three friends were gone. i was severely traumatized and i did not quite recover.

my early boyhood friends are no longer in sampaloc. these days, many of them are living probably in north america or clustered in affluent metro manila villages. meanwhile, i choose to remain in sampaloc because i want to remember. i yearn to see my friends playing in the city streets again from time to time.

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Call for Submissions to the 46th Dumaguete National Writers Workshop

National Artist for Literature Edith L. Tiempo has announced a March 31 deadline for applications for fellowships to the 46th National Writers Workshop to be held in Dumaguete City from May 7 to 25.

Panelists this year are Gemino Abad, Alfred Yuson, Susan Lara, Anthony Tan, DM Reyes, Marjorie Evasco, and others. They will compose the revolving panel of writers together with National Artist for Literature Edith Lopez Tiempo, and resident panelists C�sar Ru�z Aquino, Bobby Flores Villasis, and Ernesto Superal Yee.

Fifteen (15) fellowships are open for young writers all over the country.

The first screening panel, composed of the workshop's resident writers, selects the writing fellows for the summer based on the manuscripts submitted by the applicants. These selected manuscripts are forwarded to the Director of the Workshop, who does the final screening and formally approves the final lineup of writing fellows.

The writing fellowship covers lodging for the full 22 days of the duration of the entire workshop, a modest stipend, one-way fare reimbursement, and workshop manuscripts and reading materials.

The applicant must submit original manuscripts consisting of at least three to five short (3-5) stories, or three to five (3-5) essays/creative non-fiction, or two (2) one-act plays, or seven to ten (7-10) poems. Stories, poems, plays, and essays in English are preferred. Only unpublished manuscripts are accepted. Works which have previously won in literary contests will not be accepted.

Other requirements include an application letter addressed to Workshop Director Dr. Edith Tiempo; a diskette or CD containing the various submitted literary works encoded in Microsoft Word; a recommendation letter from a renowned writer or literature teacher; two 2x2 pictures; and a brief biodata or r�sum�.

These must be sent before the 31 March 2007 deadline to Dr. Edith Lopez Tiempo, National Writers Workshop Director, c/o College Assurance Plan, 2nd Floor, CAP Building, Rizal Boulevard, 6200 Dumaguete City, Negros Oriental, Philippines.

Accepted fellows are usually notified by postal mail, or email, or by phone call, although the announcement is usually published by major Philippine dailies.

Interested parties may also apply for sit-in or auditing privileges.

The National Writers Workshop was established by Edith and Edilberto Tiempo in 1962, making it the longest-running creative writing workshop in Asia. The 2007 edition is sponsored by the National Commission for Culture and the Arts, Silliman University, and College Assurance Plan, in coordination with the Creative Writing Foundation Inc. and the Dumaguete Literary Arts Service Group, Inc. Donors to the fellowship program include Senators Edgardo J. Angara and Mar Roxas as well as former NCCA Chairman Jaime Laya and Ms. Erlinda Panlilio.

floods in sampaloc

sampaloc is usually infested with floods from june to october. one often speculates how it has ever become a thriving neighborhood.

i take pleasure residing in sampaloc because i have many family members, friends and acquaintances living all over the place. i grew up there. but there are instances when floods can be very annoying.

in grade three, i once attempted to go to school alone, despite the heavy rains. there were no announcements from radio and t.v. , but i didn’t want to miss school. i had wanted so badly to get a star for perfect attendance by the end of the school year. out of greed, i slipped out of the house and waded through the waters.

upon reaching the corner of carola and dapitan streets, near what used to be the house of aling nita (co-owner of josephine’s, the seafood restaurant), i tripped into a manhole, got siphoned into its hollow, then mustered enough adrenalin to pull myself out of danger. back home, i ran to the bathroom, had a quick cold shower, then poured family rubbing alcohol all over my body. i sneaked back to my room where i vowed not to aim for that perfect attendance star ever again.

during the wet weather season, it also became habitual for obedient students from u.s.t., ramon magsaysay, st. jude’s, perpetual help, holy trinity and esteban abada high schools to appear in school wearing very unfashionably gigantic, knee-high black rubber boots. i was a geek so i wore these too. but horror stories about the monsoon rains in sampaloc became even more dreadful by the time i started teaching in u.p..

usually, the family chauffer takes me to diliman everyday. but there are days when my parents need the family van and i am forced to take a cab. i have no big problems about commuting (i often made “sabit” riding jeepneys during my younger days) but cabs do resist taking passengers from sampaloc to diliman every time it rains. not even a monumental “i am going to teach! i have a class!” argument can make cab drivers mend their dizzyingly divaesque ways. it really takes more than an hour for anyone to hail a cab in rainy sampaloc.

returning to sampaloc from diliman is easier. but when the rising waters of espaňa threaten the lives of cabs and their engines, i usually ask cabs to take me from u.p. to the point where the floods begin. customarily, i walk from mayon near welcome (now inappropriately renamed mabuhay) rotunda to m. cuenco, towards pi y margal corner antonio maceda. several blocks past the imeldifically-imposing bliss housing units on antipolo and algeciras streets, i finally get home and quickly bathe my legs and feet with lukewarm water. immediately after, i put to rest weird imaginings coming out of every downpour: images of dead plants and animals, old slippers, rubber shoes, party cups, paper plates, candy wrappers, market bags and anything plastic floating on the murky waters.

my most traumatic flood story happened just a few years year ago. coming out of tanya mendoza’s salon (the favorite stylist of journalists, pr/advertising practitioners and creative writers like jun lana, ramil gulle, neil garcia, ronald baytan, ralph galan, christian esguerra, nonon carandang, henry barrameda, chris cahilig and many others when they were high school or college students-the shop is located along asturias, near u.s.t.’s dapitan gate; tanya has gone for the big time-he is now one of the resident stylists of t.v.'s eat bulaga and daisy siete) after a haircut, i was devastated to discover that the entire sampaloc area was at least two to three feet underwater in less than an hour. fortunately, an old school mate lived near the area so i dragged him and other friends close by to keep me company eating burgers at a nearby jollibee outlet. i was ever so hopeful that the floodwaters will finally recede.

after two hours, the rains didn’t stop. it only got worse. so i said goodbye to my friends and crossed the murky waters along dapitan’s entire stretch. the street remained impassable to vehicles until the wee hours.

every time i brave sampaloc’s floodwaters, icky things continue to float all over. but sampaloc is home. i overcome grief and exasperation by making plans for the dry season.

espana during the rainy season

joven cagande's rendition of a vendor selling flowers on valentine's day eve along dos castillas street in sampaloc, manila (cagande's photograph taken from philippine star)

first teachers

my mother was my first teacher. when i was three, she made me recite the ABCs then count from one to one hundred before our guests. at age five, i loved rummaging through maps and illustrations of h.g. wells’ outline of history. upon learning about this particular fascination, my mother persuaded my father to purchase the reader’s digest great world atlas. the book enthused me to fluently memorize names of countries, capital cities, highest mountains, and other geographical facts.

at u.s.t. elementary school, my first teachers sustained my interest in learning more about the world beyond the familiar city streets. miss mila (milagros) bautista was my very first teacher in prep and grade one. she made me a group leader, often asking me to monitor the cleanliness of our classroom and to keep my classmates’ mouths shut whenever she took a break. once, i was stricken with flu, she personally brought me to the university health center and patiently waited for my mother to arrive before returning to my classmates who were all distracted with coloring book exercises. when ms. bautista became mrs. villarama, i was very sad because i thought she would be resigning from her job. when she returned after giving birth to her first child, my grade one class deliriously threw a modest party for her. the class brought loaves of bread, slices of kraft cheddar cheese, hotdogs, marshmallows and bottles of sarsi cola and sunta orange to celebrate her coming back. i would not forget mrs. mila bautista-villarama because she saved me from embarrassment many times whenever i couldn’t understand texts the class orally read in unison. she knew there was something wrong with my comprehension skills. but unlike some teachers and students, she refused to call me dumb. after each class, she would make me read texts again and again until i finally understood the gist of things. almost thirty years later, i was stunned to discover that i have always been afflicted with attention deficiency hyperactivity disorder. mrs. villarama’s creative impulse in sorting out my deficiencies turned out to be what became familiar to us many years later as special education.

in grade one, i also met two other interesting teachers: mrs. sylvia fernandez, who taught me speech communication; and miss aida jurilla, who taught me music.

mrs. fernandez was fully aware of my lapses in speaking and writing. but whenever we had school presentations, she persistently plucked my name either as a lead performer or as part of a chorus. my first public performance was staged at the u.s.t. education auditorium before a thousand or so people. as her pilot grade one students, we were trained to recite “a little boy’s prayer”, an anti-vietnam war poem. some four hundred grade one students competed for forty speaking parts. though i forgot my speaking lines many times, i remained part of the ensemble mrs. fernandez had selected to perform onstage. i was among the first ten performers arising on top of a platform to directly face the audience. we were all dolled up in colorful jacket tops and trousers. but minutes before our number, mrs. fernandez realized that i was on the verge of a nervous breakdown, cracking up and shivering in fright. mrs. fernandez momentarily pulled me out of the backstage so i can drink a glass of water. afterwards, she motivated me to close my eyes, pray, and offer my performance to the ones i deeply care for. and she also insisted that throughout the performance, i should imagine that only my family and friends are in the auditorium.

i still got frightened the very first time i emerged onstage. but mrs. fernandez hid behind the curtains to keep me cool, calm, and collected. i kept on whispering to myself “for grandpa” and “for mom and dad” as i uttered the first lines: ‘now, as i lay me down to sleep, i pray the lord my soul to keep. if i should die before i wake, i pray the lord my soul to take. god bless mommy, little sue, baby John, and most especially, my daddy . . .’

after five minutes, we ended our performance with a bow. and the crowd cheered us on. mrs. fernandez embraced each one of us. then she gave us balloons before we went home.

when i graduated from grade six, mrs. fernandez emceed the proceedings held at the u.s.t. gymnasium. although it was not on the script, mrs. fernandez added the words “consistent honor student” as she called my name. looking back, i always remember mrs. fernandez because she made me realize that one speaks in public to communicate an important thought and certainly not to glorify one’s self.

miss aida jurilla, on the other hand, was my music teacher from grade one to grade six. she made quite an impression on me because she looked glamorous without really trying. most of my classmates were initially scared of her because she was very strict. but i was not. i thought she nearly resembled the aura of hollywood stars like lana turner and elizabeth taylor. she had presence. as she entered each class, she always looked regal with pieces of beads, pearls, and other trinkets adorning her neck. miss jurilla taught me how to sing, play the piano, and be aware of rhythm and its nuances. she also introduced hollywood and broadway tunes like “my favorite things” (from the sound of music) and “sunrise, sunset” (from fiddler on the roof), popular American songs like “on top of old smokey”(with cheeky lines that go this way: “…all covered with snow, i lost my true lover, he courted too slow…”), and “the way we were” as well as filipino tunes such as “lulay,” “pilipinas kong mahal,” and “dahil sa ’yo.” she also taught me how to sing the school anthem in english and filipino.

every time i try to write poetry, i often remember ms. jurilla telling my grade one class that music is poetry and poetry is music. ms. jurilla has taught me to prioritize the lyric in my writings. i always recognize ms. jurilla’s influence in the development of my poetic ear.

my mother, mrs. villarama, mrs. fernandez, and ms. jurilla were my first teachers. their collective patience, creative energy, and encouragement pushed me to speak, read, and write coherently.

u.s.t. elementary school

view of u.s.t. education building (where u.s.t. elementary school is) from p. florentino street (towards governor forbes, now arsenio lacson street)

u.s.t. gymnasium

dapitan

i spent my boyhood years playing with children whose families lived around the university of santo tomas (u.s.t.), in sampaloc, manila. throughout the late 1960s and the 1970s, my playground was dapitan, a two-way street where jeepneys and calesas moved freely. it was a magical place where i played hide-and-seek with children from the perpendicular streets. and even then, dapitan was a tributary of stores and dormitories catering mostly to u.s.t. students and teachers.

u.s.t. students frequently purchased their school supplies at college inn. my yaya and i had merienda in a panciteria beside it. other times, we visited the newly opened, barrio fiesta-owned handaang pilipino because it dished up crispy pata and kare-kare. when i was in grade four, i opened my first bank account at the neighboring university savings and loan association

my yaya bought pandesal for breakfast at fame bakery at the corner of dapitan and don quijote. between governor forbes and algeciras, students huddled themselves together inside endless rows of tailoring and beauty shops as well as sari-sari stores with take-home counters loaded with pork barbecue and fried peanuts. one notable landmark was aling mameng's carinderia and sari-sari store at the corner of dapitan and carola streets. the owner frequently remarked to their regular patrons that their previous clients included budding u.s.t. students who became luminaries in philippine politics, cinema, art, journalism, and literature. these students turned out to be writers cirilo f. bautista, francisco tatad, wilfrido nolledo, cesar leyco aguila, albert casuga, rita gadi, recah trinidad, jullie yap daza, cristina pantoja hidalgo, and norma miraflor; actor bernardo bernardo; fashion designers steve de leon and gino fernando; artists danny dalena and manuel baldemor.

just above aling mameng's sari-sari store, fast-rising hairdresser jun encarnacion endowed matrons and their minions with his fabled beauty tricks. one of jun encarnacion’s good friends was a young mananahi from the nearby dress shop owned by sonia aquino, also along dapitan. the mananahi later became a popular couturier named renee salud. along don quijote street, between dapitan and p. margal, another small beauty salon was being managed by leslie reyes, also a friend of encarnacion and salud. but the more formidable persona in the beauty business during those days was freddie reyes, whose beauty salon occupied an imposing brick edifice near the corner of governor forbes and espaňa. in sharp contrast, some five doors away from aling mameng, mang nary managed a barbershop where i had my first haircut when i was about a year old. at the corner of dapitan and trabajo, i had my first photograph taken at a studio beside another beauty shop—that of grace lagman's.

beyond dapitan, however, i learned about poverty, bitterness, and disillusionment from my playmates living in squatter communities along the railroad tracks. at a very young age, i had a consciousness of martial law and its repercussions. many of my playmates’ immediate family members and relatives had been “salvaged” or incarcerated as political prisoners. a number of these immediate family members and relatives became “fall guys” for crimes they did not commit. among the underfed, many performed sleazy jobs (prostitution and drug dealing, most especially) out of desperation. growing up as a “marcos baby” during martial law in the 1970s offered me a clear-sighted awareness about the so-called new society and how it had been employed by a newly emerged bourgeoisie to consolidate their power and privilege.

for many years, i did not have memory of sampaloc because i lived overseas. when i returned to the country, i could not find time to revisit sampaloc. my family moved to a dream house overlooking the city. elsewhere, matters that compelled immediate attention kept me busy.

i finally explored dapitan again sometime during the late 1990s. to my astonishment, greenwich, shakey's pizza, and dunkin donuts had replaced the old college inn. chowking's occupied the spot where handaang pilipino used to be. jollibee and mcdonald's branches stood close to each other.

and yet, a number of the old places refused to die: university savings, aling mameng's, and grace lagman. fame bakery also stayed alive. but it had been renamed tinapayan. jun encarnacion passed on and his children moved his beauty shop to a new location along laon laan, a street parallel to dapitan. aling ising's uniform center occupied the space jun encarnacion had previously vacated.

but aling mameng has gone to america with a retired u.s. navy serviceman. a distant relative is said to be running her once-reputable carinderia. mang nary is gone but his children are operating a small canteen beside the old barbershop.

all of a sudden, reputable banking institutions have sprouted all over dapitan and nearby laong laan-bank of the philippine islands, metrobank, equitable-pci bank, banco filipino, prudential bank and allied nank. old dormitories and turo-turo canteens have been knocked down to give way to condominium units, wendy's hamburger, max's fried chicken, cravings bake house and the coffee beanery. traffic barely moved along dapitan when the short-lived coby's music café got inaugurated by celebrities led by pops fernandez, side a, gary valenciano, along with abs-cbn broadcasting network's stable of stars and starlets.

the moon has sailed across the milky way with dapitan's changing landscape. the city street’s elemental sadness can never be surmounted.

m. de la fuente (trabajo) corner pi y margal street

dapitan near vicente cruz (economia) street

pi y margal corner pepin

maria clara corner constancia street

pi y margal corner a. maceda (washington)

don quijote near dapitan street

don quijote near pi y margal street

dapitan between carola and don quijote
(former location of aling mameng's sari sari store, mang nary and mang romy''s barber shop and jun encarnacion's house of beauty)

arsenio lacson street (governor forbes) corner dapitan

p. florentino corner a. lacson street (governor forbes)

blumentritt corner pi y margal / mariano cuenco

pi y margal near carola and dos castillas streets

glow and wonder

i remember having such a big appetite as a child. in spite of my father’s meager wages as a government lawyer, my mother (she had to quit her job as a public school teacher to raise me and my siblings) managed to find creative ways of feeding me regularly. however, because of budgetary constraints, i practically ate the same things from primary school to high school.

for breakfast, i normally consumed bowls of oatmeal as well as pan de sal with guava jelly. for lunch, i ate bistek tagalog (sirloin steak, filipino-style), dulong (dried anchovy fry), bangus (milkfish) or tocino (cured pork or bacon marinated in a sweet red sauce). for dinner, i greedily ate pork barbecue from a suki beside the tailoring shop along dapitan, between carola and don quijote streets. for dessert, i ate bananas or mongo beans dipped in evaporated milk with sugar. there were days when my parents could not provide me and my siblings with more sumptuous meals. duirng such occasions, we make do by boiling eggs and mixing these with fried rice.

in school, i was quite notorious for not buying my food at the school canteen. my family was really on a very tight budget. my parents were then sending some of my cousins to university. consequently, i was forced to bring baon to school. quite frequently, i had calamansi juice (acid orange, calamondin or panama orange) in a sealed tupperware glass and bread loaf with guava or peanut butter filling.

of course, there were occasional breaks in the routine. five apartment doors behind aling mameng’s store at the corner of dapitan and carola, i remember dropping by another store tended by an old lady selling a bilao of puto (rice muffins), kutsinta (sticky brown rice cake) and palitaw (glutinous rice mixture topped with sugar and sesame seeds). with the family helper, i carried several pieces of puto for my mother and siblings to take some pleasure in. then we washed the puto pieces away by drinking gazillions of freshly-squeezed calamansi juice.

other times, i would go to a small apartment unit beside the chinese store at the corner of dos castillas and pi y margal. the unit’s façade became a haven of students from dominican school, university of santo tomas and ramon magsaysay high school the moment the make-shift store owner uncovered gargantuan pieces of home-cooked, sugar-coated and deep-fried turon (brown sugar-coated, deep fried banana spring rolls), banana cue (brown sugar-coated, deep fried bananas in skewers) and camote cue (brown sugar-coated, deep fried sweet potatoes in skewers). we also passed by the chinese store to soak up bottles of sarsi cola, sunta orange, rc cola, mirinda orange, teem, lem-o-lime, mountain dew or magnolia choco vim.

after playing siyato, soccer baseball (kickball; it's like baseball but you kick a soccer-sized ball instead of swinging a bat), tumbang preso, patintero, taguan (hide-and-seek) and agawan-base in the streets, my friends and i satisfied our craving for things cold and sweet by grabbing cones of cheese, chocolate or langka-flavored rolando ice cream from one of their roving carts. in college, i would learn from my upper class friends that i had actually devoured what they considered as dirty ice cream.

martial law in the philippines banned the importation of foreign food products. unless relatives from america sent bags of m & ms, hershey’s kisses and nestle crunch chocolates, i ate bars and cups of the local variety: goya, serg’s, swiss cups, choc nut, curly tops and flat tops. cheap as they were, i really enjoyed gobbling all of these after my classes.

as i got older, my family became more comfortable. as a result of his honesty and clean living, my father got promoted eventually as an assistant government corporate counsel for government-owned and controlled corporations. he held the rank of a judge. mother, on the other hand, worked for a major insurance company and was amply compensated because of her numerous corporate clients. my family came to travel quite extensively and i was finally introduced to the more luxurious outer space of fine dining bistros, cafes and restaurants.

these days, i often get invites to dine in restaurants my family couldn’t afford to hang around in when i was younger. wherever i go, a recollection of my childhood’s culinary repertoire continues to greet me with never-ending glow and wonder.