Honoring My Mentor: Prof. Reynaldo Ileto's Tanglaw ng Lahi Award

L-R: Dr. Mercedes Planta; Dr. Trina Tinio; Prof. Rey Ileto;
Dr. Nikki Briones-Carsi Cruz and husband Oliver.

Most people have teachers. A lucky few have mentors.  In this regard I am luckier than most. I found a mentor in Reynaldo C. Ileto.  And last Thursday, July 19th, he was honored by his alma mater, Ateneo de Manila University, with the Gawad Tanglaw ng Lahi Award, for his scholarly contributions to furthering scholarship in the Philippines and beyond!  He received his award at the 2012 Special Academic Convocation held on campus at the Lee Irwin Theater, and it was, for me, a memorable affair.  I went to the event thinking the afternoon was going to inspire me in terms of my career life - I went home taking an important lesson about parenthood.  I did not expect to learn something important about being a mother from my academic mentor.  But that's what happened.

Prof. Rey's photo, with fellow awardees, along Katipunan.

Prof. Rey began his acceptance speech by sharing a most unexpected piece of personal trivia: that he failed the entrance exam to enter Ateneo Grade School when he was a little boy.  It was through his mother's earnest pleadings and display of unwavering faith in her son that a compassionate headmaster decided to give the young Ileto a chance.  That gamble made by a kind-hearted Jesuit more than fifty years ago paid off.  Now, Ileto comes home to his alma mater triumphant, after a distinguished career here and abroad, as one of the country's most influential historians of all time.   This awardee, with his face on banners posted all over the campus was once deemed "not good enough" because he failed his first entrance exam. 

On campus, Prof. Rey's banners.

Listening to his speech, I felt a wave of inspiration running through me.  I am being taught an important lesson and I am listening with my mind, body and spirit. And the lesson is this: a mother must always believe in her child's greatness, no matter what external exams, tests, or other mechanisms accepted by society declares that her child doesn't measure up. A mother must be the source of unshakable faith, the fiercely loyal supporter who is forever in her child's corner. I had to be reminded not to pay heed to the dictates of convention at the expense of personal conviction. Mrs. Ileto did not privilege "official facts" over what she intuitively knew to be true.  In her heart, and in her gut, she knew her son was far more than what his exam results implied. And now, her intuition is proven right, isn't it?  Unwittingly, with his anecdote about his mother, Prof. Rey has empowered me as a mother. I am ready. If Narra and Guijo "fail" at anything at all when I release them to the world, if at any point society declares them "failures" in any way whatsoever, I am ready to be that kind of mother who will see only their greatness, who will stubbornly refuse to be disappointed. I will be a firm believer in their unique genius. 

Prof. Rey delivering his acceptance speech.

Ileto's speech was riveting from start to finish. It sounded deceptively simple. But with Prof. Rey, things are rarely simple. Seemingly innocent anecdotes are loaded with multiple meanings.  I found his sharing about his mother's refusal to give up on her son a fitting metaphor for Ileto's scholarship. Just as his mother refused to give up on him when he failed to meet official standards - so too did Ileto refuse to dismiss the "pobres y ignorantes" of Philippine history.  He paid attention to what the masses had to say, by listening to their songs, and reading into their words - and these things he studied - the pasyon they chanted with fervor, the awits that shaped their dreams, the literary wellspring of knowledge once deemed inadmissible as "official history".  It was this "history from below" that became the offspring for whom Prof. Rey made his plea.  Like his mother before him, he must have felt in his gut, that those who "fail" exams shouldn't be dismissed so easily.   The thing is, what the masses had to say were always in the archives, but they were systematically overlooked, until Ileto came along and taught us a way to better appreciate their meaning.

A video-documentary on Prof. Rey's contributions.

Throughout my doctoral studies done under his supervision, he would often encourage me to tease out what I can from a single word, or from an event - he believed the scholar could be rewarded with knowledge if he exerted effort in wringing out substance, squeezing out every bit of learning he can get from the sources and subjects he scrutinizes.  This too, was his attitude with the students he took under his wing.  Unlike some teachers who dismiss students with poor language skills - Prof. Rey persevered in reading and editing awkwardly constructed drafts that contained brilliant ideas nonetheless.  He took the time to sincerely try to figure out what his students were trying to say, and he painstakingly mentored us to develop our own ideas. And if any of us simply regurgitated theory, or tried to rehash the usual, no matter how eloquently written and elegantly presented, he would return our work to us with the directive to try to write something that adds value and actually has something to say that allows us new ways of seeing things.  

L-R: Liani (exchange student from National University of Singapore);
Me and my husband, Oliver; and Prof. Rey Ileto, at the reception dinner,
Singson Auditorium, Ateneo Grade School

Just as Mrs. Ileto refused to give up on her son, so too have I felt that Prof. Rey refused to give up on me.  When I failed to submit my thesis on time; when I failed to write anything at all for 2 whole years because of marriage, pregnancy, and childbirth - throughout my dark thesis-writing years - he was my light, and source of hope. Tanglaw ng Lahi. How befitting it is that he received this award. Tanglaw means a light in the dark, an illumination, a torch!  And Lahi means breed or race, but also family and lineage. And I trace my intellectual lineage to him.  As I said at the start of this post. I am luckier than most.

Congratulations Prof. Rey!

Related Post:
Receiving my Wang Gung Wu Prize
http://nikki-mama.blogspot.com/2011/10/receiving-my-wang-gungwu-prize-and.html

Getting My Baby's Philippine Passport: So Fast, So Easy!

Thirty minutes. That's all it took from the time we entered the gates of the Department of Foreign Affairs, to the time we exited with our receipt.  A week later, the delivery guy from LBC was at our door, with my baby's passport.  It was a pleasantly uncomplicated process. Efficient, straightforward, convenient, and very baby-friendly.  I give the DFA props for its vastly improved passport application process which took 3 simple steps!  The experience was made even more pleasant by the quality of customer care given by the personnel. As a mother with an active infant, I appreciate how considerate and helpful and attentive the DFA staff were to me. Maraming salamat sa serbisyong may malasakit! 

Step 1: Submission of Documents.

STEP 1: Submission of documents. Applicants with special needs (such as mothers with infants, senior citizens, handicapped, and pregnant women) are directed to take a courtesy lane which has a shorter queue.  I just needed to bring Guijo's official NSO-issued Birth Certificate and a photocopy of my passport. Then I had to fill up a form. These documents were reviewed by an official, and when he saw that everything was in order, he instructed me to go to the cashier. This step took 10 minutes (5 minutes for me to fill up the form, which was a challenge because Guijo kept grabbing my pen). I had to wait 3 minutes for my turn to approach the submission counter; and another 2 minutes to transact at the window.

Step 2: Payment of Processing Fee at the cashier counters.

STEP 2: Payment at the Cashier.  I paid Php 1200 for expedited passport processing.  There were several counters processing payments, and the queue moved quite quickly.  A guard monitored and organized the queues, directing people to switch lanes when necessary to get the line moving more equitably.  The guard, seeing I had a baby, motioned for me to move to a shorter line.  The cashier behind the window made funny faces to distract Guijo while I reached for my wallet to get my cash. I liked the personal touch - from the guard and the cashier. It took all of 5 minutes to get this step done! Then I was handed a number, and I sat down in the waiting area, to wait for our turn to have Guijo's photo taken.

Step 3: Encoding and Picture-taking.

STEP 3: Encoding and Picture-Taking. I was amazed at how many stations there were, with computers and mounted cameras, for encoding personal data and taking of photographs. To be sure, there were many applicants waiting for their turn; but there seemed to be a commensurate number of DFA staff to handle the volume. I liked the set-up.  It was nothing fancy.  There were tables, with computers, then there were standing partitions - usual office paneling - on which were mounted digital cameras.  Then there were some office chairs, but more of monobloc plastic chairs for the passport applicants to sit on. As I said, nothing fancy. We're still a third world country after all. What's important is that the job gets done expediently and in relative comfort - away from the heat and the rain, and without the inconvenience of long queues. The process ran like clockwork. The numbers flew by - "ding", "ding", "ding" went the t.v. monitor on which the counters being freed up were being flashed. It took only 5 minutes of waiting time before it was our turn to find station number 41, which took me a while to find, all the way to the back.  There must have been a hundred stations there - it was a lot! 

The encoding and photo capturing station.

So finally, we found our counter. The officer assisting us expertly handled the situation. He asked me to get Guijo to stand on a chair across the camera. He then started clicking on his stapler to catch Guijo's attention, and as Guijo stared at the clicking stapler, and followed it with his eyes, snap! his picture was taken!  The officer had one hand on the stapler, and another on the mouse to control the camera. He did a little balancing act, leaning across his desk to get the stapler close to the camera so Guijo's face would would face forward.  We got the shot in one try. It was quick and Guijo didn't fuss! It took 5 minutes - and that included the long walk to find the station at the far end of the room. The actual picture taking took no more than a minute.  I was shown all the details that were encoded, and I was asked to verify - to check that the spelling, and birth date, and the photo taken were all fine.  I was done! I could pick up the passport in a week's time, or have it delivered to my house. On my way out of DFA, I passed by the LBC Delivery counter and paid the delivery fee, and scribbled my address on the delivery envelope. This step was done in 2 minutes. Then I took the escalator down, walked out the door, and headed to the gate to meet up with Narra and Yaya Jen and Yaya Vanna who waited for us at McDonald's across the street. I checked my watch. 30 minutes.  That's all it took. 

Passport delivery service by LBC.

A week later, the LBC delivery guy came with Guijo's passport as promised. With its arrival my passport application process could be declared a resounding success at last!  My faith in this country's ability to do things right is strengthened all the more. I am so happy that I did not encounter any fixers, or unnecessary red tape, or other forms of bureaucratic nonsense.  All I encountered were committed and efficient civil servants doing their job right, and with an added friendly touch.    

Guijo, happy to receive his passport (so it seems). 

Some Info:

-Passport applications are handled at the new Office of Consular Affairs of the DFA (DFA-OCA) located along Macapagal, behind S&R and across McDonald's. Parking is available both at S&R and McDonald's.

-Applicants must schedule an appointment by calling 737-1000 to get a date and time slot. Mothers applying for their babies NEED NOT MAKE AN APPOINTMENT. A father or mother (or official guardian) can bring an infant to the DFA-OCA any day and time to access the courtesy lane. Note: if you use the courtesy lane, you pay the special expedited fee of Php 1200 for your passport automatically. The cheaper regular rate of Php 900 is no longer an option available given that you "expedited" the process by taking the courtesy lane.

-www.dfa.gov.ph has relevant info on requirements, and downloadable forms too - I should have filled up my form at home, instead of on site, where Guijo kept pulling my pen.

Wanlu the Ventriloquist: One Talented Entertainer!

Wanlu the Ventriloquist, with a soft puppet.

Wanlu the Ventriloquist gained fame a few years back when he won week after week on Channel 5's Talentadong Pinoy, until he was installed in the talent show's Hall of Fame.  Last Sunday, we had the chance to watch him live at the grand first birthday party thrown by Oliver and Jennie Diaz for their son Gonzo, at Wack Wack Country Club.  He was funny!  And one thing I really liked about him was his knack for making his act quite inclusive - and by that, I mean, by design, he appealed to everyone in the room, young and old, hosts and guests (and the yayas of the kids), ... even the waitstaff all stopped working and gathered in the wings, to savor his performance.  He is a certified celebrity and he put that star power to good use.  For instance, he knew he could get away with poking fun at the party hosts!!! 

Wanlu, making a human puppet out of the party host.

Wanlu did this to the celebrant's father, Oliver Diaz, who is normally very dignified in demeanor - and very professional-looking all the time. He invited Oliver to come up on stage to participate in his act,  and made him wear a ridiculous baby bonnet and transformed him into a human puppet.  It was hilarious!  I looked around and saw that everyone was riveted to the stage.  People at the far end of the room were standing to see the stage. Even my husband, who's normally inattentive at children's parties, found his way to the front of the stage where he sat on the floor next to Narra and Guijo by the kiddy chairs (that's where I sat too).  We had quite a few good laughs.

Narra and Oliver, enjoying Wanlu's performance.

I also loved seeing Oliver's wife Jennie, carrying the celebrant Gonzo, having a good laugh at her husband's puppet act.  It's good to see hosts enjoying their party, and not being harassed, or stressed, or too busy to be having fun. But with Wanlu, it seemed to me that everyone busy decided to take a break to make time to enjoy the show.  He had the audience in the palm of his hand. It must have been his aura - he had the presence of a star, who knew his worth.  It was also his comedic timing.  Delivery of lines is one thing, synchronizing this with the movement of puppets makes it more exciting - add to this the fact that his lips aren't moving as he speaks for his puppets - it's really fun to watch!

The party host Jennie, with the celebrant, Gonzo!

Wanlu encouraged the audience's participation many times throughout his performance. At one point he asked two yayas to come up on stage, and to my amazement, I saw Narra's new yaya, our latest household recruit named yaya Vanna, leaping up on stage!  Wanlu wore a half mask on yaya Vanna, and he manipulated the mechanism from behind, which created the hilarious illusion of a moving mouth.  Vanna was made to say things like "Ate, kunan mo naman ako ng picture o!" (please take my picture) and this line she directed at me, and I obediently took the photo of course!  Wanlu, through his puppetry, is able to get away with anything! And somehow, anyone he orders around through his puppets seems all too willing to comply!  That's part of his magic really, his personal magnetism. How can he get people to participate willingly? At many other children's parties, entertainers sometimes find it difficult to get people to ride along.

Wanlu, with Narra's new yaya Vanna to his right.

Wanlu's effect lasted long after the party.  Up to the next day, and the day after that, I could still hear the yayas and Narra talking about him and his puppet show.  For her participation in his show, yaya Vanna got to take home a DVD of Wanlu's performance at the Cultural Center of the Philippines.  When I took a peek at Narra's room yesterday afternoon, I saw that they were watching his show!  He's one talentadong Pinoy and I am so glad I got to see him live!  

Wanlu's son, performing with his marionette.

It seems Wanlu is passing on the knowledge to the next generation. Included in his act are "dance numbers" performed by his son who specializes in manipulating marionettes.  I very much appreciate what they are doing for indeed, there is room for more puppetry in our performing arts scene. From a historical standpoint, a century ago, puppetry was an integral part of theater life in Manila.  We had shadow theater called carillos offered regularly in the streets of the theater district near the port area. It is sad that those puppet shows have become all but extinct.  With Wanlu's commercial success, however, there is a good chance for puppetry to stage its comeback.  So I could only wish for Wanlu's puppetry arts to flourish all the more, and to inspire many others to follow in his path.

Related Posts:

Gonzo's Carnival Themed Party and What Makes a Grand Party Great Fun
http://nikki-mama.blogspot.com/2012/07/gonzos-carnival-themed-party-and-what.html

A Towering Carnival Cake and Custom Crafted Candy for Gonzo's 1st Birthday Party
http://nikki-mama.blogspot.com/2012/07/carnival-themed-cake-and-custom-crafted.html

A Towering Carnival Cake and Custom Crafted Candy for Gonzo's 1st Birthday

The carnival and circus themed cake and mini cupcakes.

It made me giddy-happy. Like a star-struck fan I stood there in front of this awesome carnival-themed cake at Gonzo Diaz's first birthday party.  Like going to an actual carnival itself, this cake got me really excited.   It was a mechanical wonder, with many spinning elements: a ferris wheel, a clown, a seal on its round pedestal with a ball balancing on its nose - a beautiful carousel, front and center, and a circus tent on top! All these rotated, round and round, adding yet another dimension to an already multi-dimensional cake. It had height, and depth, color and movement,  there were animal-shaped cookies on sticks, coated with sugar icing, planted on layers of cake at various heights.  

The circus and carnival inspired cupcake toppers and cake trimmings.

The cake is every bit the embodiment of the actual party.  The venue was transformed into a tent, and there were food carts serving pop corn, and cotton candy, a carousel was set up for the kids and a jester milled about. These fun elements were recreated in sugar, and chocolate, crowning dozens of colorfully iced mini cupcakes.  I loved the color combinations, the rich hues of primary and secondary colors. Countless stars and discs, and other festive figures serves as fun trimmings.  The cake was so huge I couldn't even count how many layers there were.  

The finely-crafted spinning carousel

It was truly a "feel-good" cake.  It reminded me of the London Circus that came to town in 1984. I was seven, and my dad took me to Cubao, outside Araneta Coliseum, where a huge tent was pitched.  It was a father-daughter date, just him and me, my first time to see a circus, a spectacular night I never forgot. The carousel also reminded me of Paris, when we did our family's treasured first trip to Europe.  I remember the carousel at the foot of the Eiffel Tower, which was rivaled in grandeur by the one on the way to Sacre Coeur at Montmartre. Carousels are simply magical. This cake made me marvel at its intricacy, and gush at its cuteness, and it made me very happy.

Narra, distracted by the attractive cupcakes.

Narra, too, was enthralled.  I caught her inspecting the cake table studiously, many times throughout the party.  She'd play a bit, run around, then come back, and stare some more.  I told her to wait until the celebrant had blown his birthday candle, before getting a cupcake. As she waited, there were many other party food stuff to keep her occupied.  There was a cotton candy machine, and pop-corn cart, an ice cream station, hotdog stand, and a Candy Corner shop which had a fun selection of gummy treats.  There were also mini burgers, chicken lollipops, spaghetti, and assorted pastries.

Food carts outdoors: cotton candy, popcorn, hotdogs, and ice cream carts.

For the adults, there were added meat treats from two carving stations offering savory fiesta dishes for adult palettes: there was an entire roasted calf, with a roast suckling pig right next to it.  The meat trimmed off them were served with yummy sauces. A plateful of meat coupled with a fine selection of local and foreign beers made the adults very, very, very happy.  And on the tables, lay jars of candy, as take-home gifts for all guests. 

Sweets at our table: roasted calf, good old Stella, and custom crafted candy giveaways.

And it wasn't just any candy in the jars.   It was custom-crafted stuff, with the name of the celebrant spelled out, that is, rolled into the hard candy as it was made by hand. Wow. Its my first time to see this. I still can't imagine how the candy-makers managed to fold the letters G-O-N-Z-O into the cylinders of sugar.  Working with sugar is no simple matter - it requires much skill to figure out the right temperature at which to pull, twist, and fold patterns into long ropes of syrup handled expertly as the sugar mixture cools and hardens.  Without seeing how it was made, I marveled at the art and science behind the making of these customized sweets.  Talk about having a conversation piece!  The people at our table deliberated on the possible methods employed to achieve this feat. One can learn something new at every party :-D  

The custom-crafted candy with the celebrant's name rolled in. 

Too bad I didn't get to find out who made the cake, so I can't give credit to whoever made it, though I would want to congratulate them on their fabulous creation. As for the custom-crafted candy, the jar we took home had a tag with the contact info: Twisted Candy (0932-87CANDY).

Related post:

Gonzo's Carnival-Themed Party and What Makes a Grand Party Great Fun!

http://nikki-mama.blogspot.com/2012/07/gonzos-carnival-themed-party-and-what.html

Gonzo's Carnival-Themed Party and What Makes A Grand Party Great Fun!

The jolly jester balancing on a ball - an awe-inspiring centerpiece for this carnival party.

Achieving a perfect party isn't always about how much money was spent. It's about how much fun hosts and guests have together.  There are grand parties that are spectacular in scale, with no expense spared - that don't necessarily mean great fun for guests... I've attended quite a few of these frenzied mega parties where buffet lines are of theme-park proportions, or seats are scarce, and hosts are too busy - that all you have is a short hello and good-bye, and the guests leave feeling tired.  On the opposite end of the spectrum, there are simple parties that are intimate, and comfortable, with familiar food and nothing too fancy, which end up giving guests a very relaxed and enjoyable time nonetheless, despite the lack of a wow factor, everyone leaves feeling good, but the party itself is nothing new, nor great.  On rare occasions, there are perfect parties that strike a delicate balance between being grand in scale, but still intimate in execution - a party that amazes and excites, as it relaxes and enables quality bonding time. A party that exposes one to new things, and awakens their little inner child, and turns a party space into one giant playground where parents and children alike, friends and family, in a magical moment, are all equally induced into a precious playful state. 

Yesterday, we attended one such party. It was one resounding success! I am going to enjoy recounting in several blog posts what made Oliver and Jennie Diaz's first birthday party for their son Gonzo one big, happy, afternoon at the carnival!  For now, I am going to talk about the fantastic decorations that really set the mood!

The whimsical carousel horse centerpiece.

From the moment we walked into Pavillion B at Wack-Wack Country Club, we knew we were in for a treat.  The towering centerpieces were whimsical carnival figures - a jester balancing on a ball, a carousel horse on its pinstripe pole, they were fun to look at, without being obstructive. Some voluminous centerpieces tend to inhibit conversation as they block the line of sight from one side of the table to the opposite end, I do recall several occasions at formal parties where guests literally moved tall vases of flowers out of the way - but not these centerpieces! They were fabulously guest-friendly in form and function, their placement was perfect: in full-view without being in-your-face.  The colorful balloons as well, hanging from the ceilings, and on the tables:  they were artfully positioned, to set the festive tone, without being too much.  They were within reach, but out of the way, suspended above our heads on invisible strings.  Hovering alongside the balloons, is a curious creature, a jester milling about precariously on stilts.  He strategically positioned himself in a corner of the room where he wouldn't trip on chairs and tables, and he functioned as a visual marker to announce to the guests the presence of two awesome features not to be missed in this quiet corner of the room: a baby carousel for little children, and a candy cart from Candy Corner.  For a moment, Narra looked like Alice in Wonderland, just right after she took a sip of magic potion and shrunk into a tiny thing next to the jester-on-stilts.  She was enthralled as she looked up at the man smiling down at her from the ceiling! She was thrilled with the ride-all-you-can carousel-for-kids, and of course, the candy! 

Narra and yaya Vanna next to the jester-on-stilts.

It was Guijo's first time to ride on a carousel on his own.  The little carousel is designed for babies, so his tiny feet could reach the foothold. We saw that his grip on the handle bars was tight, so after a few confidence-building practice rounds, we finally let him go. That was a milestone right there, for me. I thought this carousel was a nice touch, a thoughtful gesture to offer a fun activity for baby guests, and I am one appreciative mama. Finding ways to entertain various age groups is no small feat, and I am amazed that not one kid fussed at all during the party! There were no tantrums and tears, no fits and fights, and no sleeping kids either, even if the party was during nap time! That's a miracle in itself!  

Guijo's ride on his baby carousel horse.

Now, the jester-on-stilts wasn't just hovering around for display - he had an all important role to play for the climactic balloon burst towards the end of the party. His was the unenviable task of popping the giant balloon hanging from the chandelier in the center of the pavilion.  Various colored smaller balloons are inside, and kids (and their indefatigable parents and yayas) are invited to catch balloons which entitles them to claim a prize.  It was an exciting moment, as the jester gingerly approached his spot in the middle, carefully avoiding stepping on little children.  He had a pick in his hand, which didn't seem sharp enough coz it took several stabs before the giant balloon finally burst.  The suspense was palpable as we all watched his attempts, stab after stab, and when at last, he succeeded with his task, all hell broke loose - it was a melee of arms and legs, I saw my baby's head popping up and down, as his yaya Jen bent down to catch a red balloon, then a green one. 

The jester on stilts moments before the balloon burst.

I loved how the decorations were integral to the afternoon's activities. They weren't merely inert backgrounds that just "stood" there, but were functional elements that invited participation and interaction from guests.   This is likewise the case for the party's piece de resistance - the most outstanding decoration of all: the grandest birthday cake ever! (I plan to write a separate blog post just on that cake and how it made me feel!).  Gonzo's cake was a tower of fun, fun, fun!  And it begged to be admired, beckoning spectators to come close to better appreciate its details. And it wasn't the usual "off limits" cake that you can't touch. At this perfect party, one can have the cake and eat it too!  There were many elements available for easy access. One could harvest mini cupcakes, choco-lollipops, cookies on sticks, and edible sugar treats in the shapes of stars, discs, tents, and clowns - it offered a "Charlie and the Chocolate Factory" moment for all of us. 

Excellent hosts: Oliver and Jennie Diaz, and their cause for celebration, Gonzo!

There's a kind of magic money can't buy. What made this party grand were the preparations, but what made it great fun was something beyond the stuff professional party planners provide. Yes, they provided the amazing decor, and the rides, the games and activities, the hosts and performers, etc. etc.,  but those things on their own cannot guarantee how the guests would feel.  There was something pure about that afternoon's celebration. It didn't feel like a show-off's bonanza where the guest is envisioned to be a spectator, and only a spectator.  This was the kind of party where everything was tastefully done, in appropriate proportion and gracious execution. It may look extravagant in pictures, but it didn't feel that way - nothing was wasteful or superfluous - everything felt just right, and suitable given the hosts' specific context.  We know how this couple invested in their education and trained for years to become doctors, and how they took business risks and and worked hard to build their enterprise - and we know how they waited for their bundle of joy to come, and when at last Gonzo arrived, and had a healthy and happy first year, we celebrate with them, truly, happily, honestly.  You know this great big party is an expression of love, and joy, and thankfulness for the awesome gift that having a child is. And it reminds one not to take things for granted - it reminds one to cherish the miracle of having children.  It's the kind of party that makes one feel grateful.

Oliver's barkada from Ateneo days, with wives and kids.

And we felt that all-too-important message pervading the air. Everywhere one looked, parents and children were all smiles, bonding with each other well.  I saw my husband's barkada from childhood, now with children too, there was something about their youthful demeanor that made me imagine them as playmates at Ateneo's grade school playground.  That's what makes a great moment - one that taps into a part of the brain where happiness dwells - and time periods are conflated - from a playground in 1982 to a children's party in 2012 - a thirty year gap collapses, and I catch a glimpse of a perpetual image, of little boys and their lifetime of friendship.   

And so it was. We went to a grand party, and it was great fun. And we were all happy, for Gonzo and his parents, or should I say, even more appropriately - we were happy WITH them, because they invited us to partake of their celebration. Thank you Oliver and Jennie - your party for Gonzo was something truly special. May God shower your lovely family with even more blessings, now and always :-D 

Related Posts:

The Towering Carnival Cake and Custom Crafted Candy for Gonzo's 1st Birthday

http://nikki-mama.blogspot.com/2012/07/carnival-themed-cake-and-custom-crafted.html

Narra's First Horseback Ride at El Kabayo Riding Stables

Narra and I, off to our first horseback ride together. El Kabayo, Pampanga.

It rained so much on Tuesday and Wednesday, that by the time Thursday came, I needed a break from being cooped up indoors.  I was longing for a breather, in wide open space, away from Manila's congested streets. We escaped to Clark, Pampanga for a quick daytrip - even as rain clouds continued to hover above, threatening to release their heavy load. I do like this weather - when it's almost about to rain, but not quite, and the sun is just behind a screen of clouds, giving light, but not too harshly. There's a tinge of cold in the air, and one's skin isn't as sticky-sweaty as usual.  This "on the brink" weather added a bit more excitement to an otherwise simple activity. I took Narra on her first horseback ride ever, and as we kept to a child-friendly pace, I kept looking skyward, praying it wouldn't pour while we're mid-field, out in the open.

El Kabayo's horse corral.

We've been meaning to take Narra to "El Kabayo" for quite some time now. On our regular visits to nearby Fontana Leisure Parks, we'd drive by this attraction - a recreational facility with a Western-cowboy theme, complete with a trading outpost, a sheriff's station (and "jail"), and a saloon. Across the row of low buildings, at the edge of a field, lies an Indian teepee. Stationed nearby is a covered wagon, right next to the horse corral.  It being a rainy Thursday afternoon, the place was deserted - which only made it feel more like a real outpost in the middle of nowhere. True, it's right next to a busy thoroughfare, with many cars plying the main road - but truth be told, while we were on our horse, and we were led farther away from the street, and deeper into the property, it was easy to pretend we were somewhere far away.  It was enjoyable, telling Narra folk tales, foreign and local, as we were lulled into a sleepy state by the horse's rhythmic-cradling trot. 

The "Wild Western Town" of El Kabayo.

Our horse was one beautiful, awesome, and powerful creature.  His name was Tuscan, and he had this lovely mane, that was smooth to the touch, and glistened in the light.  He looked well cared for, from head to hoof.  And he felt strong, as though he could break into a gallop and run at break neck speed if you asked him to (and this fact made me a bit nervous because I had Narra with me on the saddle).   We found out from his trainer that  Tuscan was a retired competitive equestrian horse, who moved to this facility from Manila Polo Club.  No wonder he looked far superior to the usual tourist-trap-workhorses in crowded parts of Baguio and Tagaytay where some old horses look very tired and unkempt.  At El Kabayo, horses look well-maintained because it is a full-service facility which offers board and lodging for horses - where dedicated staff are able to feed, groom, and  train them, and provide general veterinary care.  In addition to horseback riding tours, and scenic trail rides, there are also riding lessons offered.  

Our beautiful horse, Tuscan.

There's even a wholesale riding package, a "horse lovers agreement" which would allow a single person unlimited riding for an entire month.  I can only imagine how healing such an experience could be, for someone looking for a respite from all the noise and confusion of life in Manila. Wow. If only we could do that one summer, to just be on vacation elsewhere, and just ride horses every day for an entire month!  That's the way Europeans do their vacations, they really take time off, and stay in a summer house somewhere, say in the coast of Spain, and not just dart in and out of tourist spots for a few days, for a picture-taking marathon, rapid-fire shopping, and indulgent food tripping - which is what too many Filipino vacations seem to be like these days.  I say this as I mentally steel myself for one of those busy trips as we're off to Singapore in a few weeks to visit Universal Studios with Narra and Guijo - I am already imagining the long queues for theme park rides.  But that's another topic for another day.

My dad and mom, the doting grandparents, seeing their grandchild off.

Back at El Kabayo, we had the chance to enjoy some quiet, and blissful seclusion.  We had the entire park to ourselves. As Narra and I crossed the wide, open, field, I instructed her to breathe in deeply, to take in the invigorating scent of grass. We marveled at huge, majestic trees, with their gloriously outstretched branches, as we passed beneath them in the comfort of their shade.  We saw a few other animals, carabos and goats, a few dogs and many other horses of different colors, grazing in abundant space.  If I had more courage, and less fear of rain, we could have gone further into the interior, to take a trail by a river, but I decided against it, and asked that we turn back.  I will save that trip for later, when Oliver is with us, and he could ride with Guijo, and I with Narra, and we can do our little exploration as a family.  Besides, we had companions waiting for us, my dad and mom, and my priest uncle - Fr. Manny, were with us on this short trip.  They waited for us at the quaint little resto where they had snacks and drinks. I didn't want for them to wait too long. And besides, it was fast approaching closing time.

My dad and mom, at The HorseShoe Bar and Saloon

I asked what time it would be most advisable to end our late afternoon trot, and our guide, (whose name sounded like "Autarch" - I asked him three times to state his name, now I think I should have asked him how to spell it!)  said horses sense a lot of things at nightfall, and are easily spooked.  That made me instantly request that we turn back! The last thing I'd want is to have my tiny little girl riding on a spooked horse in the fading light. So we rode back to "town" way before sunset.  I wondered if my baby Guijo had awakened from his nap. I would have wanted to get him to ride as well, but he dozed off peacefully throughout our entire visit.

Outside the "Sheriff's Office" with Narra wearing both our helmets.

Our first visit to El Kabayo was a very pleasant one.  The ride through the countryside was calming to the nerves. It makes me miss our old home in Lipa, Batangas, where there was an expanse of green everywhere I looked. It makes me think long and hard about our lifestyle choices.  It's not good to live in regret, but I must admit that there are many things about staying in Pasay that's regrettable: the lack of fresh air, the lack of space, the lack of exposure to nature - lack of peace and quiet!  I feel very apologetic to my husband because it was because of me that we left Lipa, where the solitude got me depressed. I asked him to move closer to De La Salle University where I worked, and now that I'm not working there anymore, we feel stuck in a location we never dreamed of as our ideal place for raising our kids.  The trip to El Kabayo just made me miss Lipa all the more. I realize that our short stay in Lipa is the ONLY period in my life when I was able to breathe through both nostrils consistently, for an entire year! - without the interruption of the all too regular nasal congestion, sneezing, and runny nose.

Narra and her Lolo Walter, at the "parking lot".

So I have this vision in my head, of seeing our kids flying kites, of running in grassy fields, of our dogs being free to run in the open, instead of being in chains.  Having this breather in El Kabayo reminds me that we can choose to live a different lifestyle, one that is closer to nature, and freer from urban confines. Sigh, a breather can be a dangerous thing. It can plant seeds of doubt, or should I say seeds of dreams. I already had my chance in Lipa, before moving back to Manila, now do I want to move back out of the city? Back in Lipa, there were riding stables all around us, and we saw horses every day! I guess the grass really is always greener on the other side. So I hope we can find a happy spot in the middle, to straddle both worlds. For now, I will have to grapple with the fact that we took a short break at El Kabayo, and I enjoyed the ride, perhaps a little too much.

Narra loved the kid-sized patio furniture.

On Family, Friends, and Food: And Why We Keep Feeding Our Guests Even When They're Full

Auntie Leila with Lola Fe and Tita Gina who flew in from the US.

When Filipinos who've migrated abroad return home for a visit, they get subjected to a series of food assaults, usually involving local delights. Everyone they meet, family and friends, will keep offering food, on and on. And if they so no to one thing, they'll be offered another, until they accept something at last. And they can't refuse by saying they aren't hungry, or that they've just eaten. Because being full is not an option. That's just the way it is. We say "welcome back" with the food we serve, and we say "good bye and God speed" with the pabaon to match.   This weekend, we had family and friends from the US, and I haven't recovered from the experience just yet.

Vivacious Lola Fe, our honoree for the night (in the middle, in black).

"I dare you to eat more lechon" said my grand aunt, Lola Fe to me. This was last Friday, at my Auntie Leila's house, where an intimate despedida dinner was  held for our US-based relatives who were in town for a quick visit.  One would think my Lola Fe, who's seen thousands of clogged arteries in her long career as an accomplished surgeon in the US, would dare me to eat less, not more! But she's a true De Lima. And in this family, hearty eating is rewarded with praise. According to legend, my great grandmother, Lola Piling, the family's strong-willed matriarch, frowned upon her lean grand children who ate small portions. She apparently preferred those members of her brood with a robust appetite.  Eating a lot is seen not as a weakness, or lack of discipline and self-restraint (as is the case with other families). On the contrary, eating con mucho gusto is  seen as a sign of strength! It is indicative of a forceful spirit, a lust for life, of indefatigability and drive, and bullish energy.  "You are looking slim" Lola Fe told our hostess.  "It's unintended. I still eat a lot. It must be the stress" said Auntie Leila, who's impossibly busy these days as she serves as Secretary of the Dept. of Justice.  I find it funny that in this family, when someone says you have slimmed down, it is a mere statement of fact, and not necessarily meant as a compliment.

When in the presence of this side of the family, I feel as though I need to follow a silent command:  "Eat like you mean it!" The command to eat emanates from the table itself, where a serious spread of killer dishes dares the diner to put up a valiant effort.  There were crabs and shrimps, pinangat with fish, veggies, the ever present pansit - then the pork offerings: lechon, bbq, dinuguan, bopis and inihaw na liempo.  For desert, there were local fruits, and buco pandan, leche flan and polvoron.  It's a deliberate selection of Pinoy recipes that are hard to come by abroad.  Auntie Leila sent her guests bags of polvoron in assorted flavors to take with them on the plane. When at last, it was time to go home, I felt several kilos heavier.  And that wasn't the end of it. 

Our party of 12, my sister's work barkada from the mid-1990's, with the
addition of kids. Robert, Cyd and Noel (right most) are visiting from the US.

The next day, my mom and sister hosted a brunch for our beloved friends, Cyd and Robert, who are visiting from the US.  Cyd was my sister's best friend from the mid-1990's to early-2000's and we used to see her everyday. She'd often sleep over at our house, and join us for meals. She and Robert got married and settled in the US and  I last saw them a decade ago, when my sis and I visited them in LA, and we took a road trip to San Diego, to cross the border to Mexico. We sure had a lot of good times.  Brunch stretched on to lunch, and even to merienda cena, from 10:30 am to past 5 pm - it was as though ten years worth of missed meals together was compressed in one sitting. Over tocino, tapa, corned beef, and kesong puti with pan de sal, the process of re-befriending began. Lunch crept in stealthily, in the guise of Russian potato salad, lasagna, and that humungous cake from Conti's. 

Puto, kutsinta, and Magnolia's "Best of the Philippines" collection.

Soon, it was time to bring out ice cream brought by another friend, Kay, the Magnolia "Best of the Philippines" series with local fave flavors: Ube Keso and Mangoes and Cream. It came in patriotic (tourist-friendly) packaging, which I found absolutely fascinating!  The Filipiniana ice cream  went well with my purchases from Katipunan: palabok from Lola Idang's, and puto calasiao and kutsinta, bought off the road near Temple Drive.  My mom also prepared Filipino sweets for the kids: polvoron, macapuno, and pastillas de leche rolled in paper, which they just loved to unwrap.  

The 3-year-olds: Narra and her guest Patricia, and a big bowl of sweets.

And as "brunch" was declared over at last, and our good-byes were being said, Cyd presented my mom with a thank you gift for hosting the party in their honor. She gave my mom a Nifty picnic carrier, made of fabric with insulated inner lining, and aluminum frame with rubber-padded handle. The carrier was full of "stateside" goodies - crackers and cookies, chocolates and candy, and a fun pair of tumblers.  An appropriate gift, really. Fun foodstuff for my mom who hosted a fun afternoon stuffing her guests with food.  

My mom, and the "thank you" gift from Cyd.

"Let's have a picture, Narra. The next time I see you, you'll be all grown up na" said Cyd to my daughter. Wow. I remember meeting many of my parents' old friends and relatives on trips abroad, and they'd say "the last time I saw you was when you were this small" and they'd gesture with their hand, to give an indication of my height when they last visited Manila.  I never fully understood the sense of loss behind such innocent statements.  To me, those people were just strangers. Not close family, or best friends of my parents. To me, they were just random individuals who took us out because we happened to be in town. I realize now, that these "not so random" people spent precious time and money to tour and feed us, not just out of a sense of obligation to be hospitable to guests, but out of love and longing for company much missed through years of separation. My dad's former co-pilot from earlier days in the military saw us every day of our stay in Vancouver when we first visited Canada - oh how he took us to so many places. While my aunties and uncles drove us from Ontario to Montreal and back - treating us to theater shows, museums and theme parks, along the way.  It was the same in LA, with my dad's siblings showing us around from San Francisco to Las Vegas, through the Arizona dessert - all the while treating us to restaurants, and bringing us to theme parks - Disneyland and Universal Studios. I never bothered to reflect on what could have motivated them to go out of their way, to make the most out of our visits. Back then, I had no idea about what kind of estrangement was involved in transplanting one's entire life to another country.  It was only when I lived abroad for graduate studies that I had an inkling. There were days when I couldn't sleep, and there's a pain in my chest, a longing so strong I felt it physically - and it's a longing not for someone in particular, or something specific - but for everything, all of it - the entire Philippines, its food, its places, its people, its music and noise, and scents and stench, its splendor and squalor - everything. And visits from home were precious!

Cyd and Noelle, and me, Narra, and my sister Marion.

When family and friends migrate elsewhere, our brains make the necessary adjustments, to accommodate the new configuration - time apart and distance from one another is factored into the equation, and the amount of food we feed our guests is commensurate to the degree of closeness we wish to recover. Migration has its perks - but also its permanent pains. And food is a panacea for all ills of the heart. A means to cure homesickness. So we heap on the servings of comfort food to exorcise any lingering longing for home. A balikbayan visiting Manila is showered with a deluge of offers for food, to make up for all those moments when they've craved something from home so badly, and nothing from hundreds of rows of products on sale at their neighborhood superstore could give them that taste from home they're looking for.  They will complain about this seemingly senseless practice, of being asked "have you eaten", all the time, by everyone. But it's an affectionate pesky gesture. Pesky, for sure. But affectionately so. And I am sure, on a cold and lonely day, in minus twenty weather, it would be these kinds of memories of Pinoy peskiness, that will bring them warmth from across the sea.