Monday, September 30, 2013

38. TRAVELS WITH JIMBASIC

JimenezBasic is known in the advertising industry for its legendary foreign trips, a way of rewarding its people for a job well done. In the 1st year that the agency made its first profit of P90,000, it decided to splurge on a Hong Kong trip for its then 10 employees. The agency has grown by leaps and bounds since, and today, it is the country's number one creative agency powered by 120 driven creative, hardworking and passionate young ad people. The tradition of travel has also continued, depending on the annual agency performance, of course. In these journeys, everyone gets to go--senior officers, copywriters, art directors, secretaries, company messengers, janitors and coffee boys. The Jimenezes believe that the experience of world travel is something money can't buy--and everyone agree! We've seen the Great Wall of China, got our tans in Bali, sheared sheep in Sydney, holidayed in Hong Kong twice, touched the Taj in India, swung thru Singapore and got tongue-Thai'd in Bangkok. There was a year that we chose London as our destination--but not everyone got a visa; the British Embassy was just incredulous that the company could afford to send its staff for an English junket. "All for one and one for all" had always been our battlecry, so we decided to have our tea in visa-free Hong Kong instead--for 5 heady days of shopping, and with free spending money! And what about this year? Well, this December, we're closing shop for 4 days, to see if there are indeed lumpia in Shanghai!


1995: SYDNEY AUSTRALIA


1996: BEIJING, CHINA

1997: HONGKONG

2000: SINGAPORE

2002: BALI, INDONESIA


2004: SYDNEY, AUSTRALIA


2005: NEW DELHI, AGRA, INDIA


2006: BANGKOK, THAILAND

2007: SHANGHAI, CHINA


2010: ATHENS, GREECE


2011: MARRAKESH, CASABLANCA, MOROCCO



2012: MELBOURNE, AUSTRALIA

Sunday, September 22, 2013

37. LOST IN THE CITY OF ANGELS

 THE OLD MUNICIPIO OF CULIAT

Memory is a wily keeper of the past, so they say-- often true and faithful, but at times elusive or even deceptive. Mine, however, are still sharp and bright, especially when it comes to Angeles City—a special place that I have always associated with a joyful time of youthful discoveries, when everyone’s idea of risky adventure was a quick trip to Pampanga’s playground--the “city of Angels”.

Growing up in a sleepy town-on-the-border that is Mabalacat, the nearby city of Angeles represented just about everything an idealistic “promdi” teen dreamed of. Angeles provided the ultimate escape, a 20 minute jeepney ride away to where the action is—there, in her downtown movie houses and cheap restaurants along its crowded alley roads serving Hollywood magic and meriendas; in its bustling commercial streets crammed with hawkers, shoppers and Muslim vendors; and in the famed avenues of Balibago lined with bright neon lights spelling familiar names straight from roadside Las Vegas: Copa Cabana, Stardust, Nina’s Papagayo.

More than just a center of escapades, Angeles was the place to kick off your shoes and get really comfortable, a city known for freely extending its unconditional welcome to one and all. They say in Angeles, everyone has a chance to make it and to this city gravitated every one – entrepreneurs, missionaries, U.S. servicemen, backpacking tourists , students, bar girls, artists, German and Australian retirees and even lost souls out to make a quick buck or two. Such was Angeles in my mind’s eye.

One could never imagine that this freewheeling city was once the farthest barrio of San Fernando, a clearing started by spouses Don Angel Pantaleon Miranda and Dona Rosalia de Jesus in 1792. Its early name was Culiat, from the woody vines that proliferated in the area. Inaugurated as a town in 1829, Culiat was dedicated to its titular patrons, the Holy Guardian Angels , hence the name “Angeles”, but it is certainly a strange coincidence that its founder was also named Angel.

The handful of nuclear families and their descendants that settled in Culiat soon expanded and grew, with family members often intermarrying. Large prominent families like the Nepomucenos, Hensons, Nepomucenos, Paras, Lazatins, Del Rosarios, Tayags have common genealogical roots, which explains why today, it is possible to bump into a distant relation just by walking the streets.

It is also the best way to discover the city’s soul, with its unexpected surprises that lurk at every bend. Recently on a week-end, I went on my own to revisit my old Angeles on foot, to retrace familiar haunts, half-expecting to relive my big city experience while exploring its contemporary attractions. After years of living in Manila and in other parts of the world, I was not disappointed.

Historic Sto. Rosario Street was my starting point. On this street stands the city landmark—the imposing Holy Rosary Parish, started in 1855 by Fr. Guillermo Masnou but opened to the public only in 1890. Its massive intricately carved doors feature religious figures central to the city’s story, most specially the Virgin of the Most Holy Rosary.

Most of Angeles’ ancestral buildings are clustered in this district—from the old Pamintuan Residence that was once occupied and transformed by Pres. Emilio Aguinaldo as his presidential headquarters, (now a Bangko Sentral regional branch), the restored Bale Herencia to the Nepomuceno’s Kamalig, an ancient barn turned specialty pizza restaurant, adjacent to Bale Matua, the old stone house of the original founders of Angeles.

The old regional court across the church has been converted into Museo ning Angeles, a repository of the city’s historical and cultural treasures. The city’s more organized commercial center—Nepo Mart—is just a stone’s throw away. PX goods were once the lifeblood of the stores here. I remember, from school, I could dash here for my favorite fig newtons or Lay’s potato chips. Nowadays, Bangkok goods are peddled side by side U.S. products obviously purchased from Clark Field PX shops.

There are so much food choices here—from Everybody’s Café, a branch of San Fernando’s most popular restaurant known for its local delicacies like kamaru, betute and tapang damulag, Delyn’s Restaurant inside the Nepo complex, Susie’s Cuisine and its famous tibuk-tibuk, the outdoor Cely’s, with its array of Kapampangan value meals to this once-nameless snack house on nearby Corazon St. noted for its unique pastillas de leche-enriched halo-halo.

Recently, the age of malls has come to Angeles with the rise of Jenra and the multi-storey Nepo Mall, the city’s latest concession to progress. But the height of adventure begins in the downtown market occupying Miranda and Rizal St., where one can get lost amidst life’s most trivial pleasures. Snake in and around the stalls—if you have hunger pangs, munch a turon, eat suman, snack on pancit palabok. Kitschy gift shops stand next to hole-in-the wall beauty shops here. Down a narrow street, I checked if “Cool Spot”- everyone’s favorite high school snack hangout—was still around. It still is, thankfully, serving up the the tastiest pancit and pineapple-upside down cake this side of town.

Every Friday, the “tiangge ng Apu” comes to life on Burgos St., where the wildest assortment of merchandise at dirt-cheap prices abound for the picking—from CDs, VCD’s and DVD’s , batik dusters, ukay-ukay finds, tropical aquarium fishes, car tools, leather goods, glassware, fake GI surplus to pots, pans and what have you. The city’s own version of Divisoria has been around for years—but this baratillo paradise is much noisier, rowdier. Before, second-hand shops and thrift stores would also be located in this area, selling Clark Air base odds and ends—vinyl records, army trays, pocketbooks and girlie magazines.

Along Jake Gonzales Boulevard., the main artery linking Balibago and Angeles, motels and cocktail lounges abound. I remember a U.S. style hotel being built in the 70s here, called “Pauline’s, with surreal interiors embellished with concrete stalactites and stalagmites. It was never finished, and for years, was the boulevard’s signature landmark. No longer a hotel row, the strip is now known for its sisig stalls by the old railroad track, a legendary haven for beer guzzlers and pulutan lovers. Balibago, past the Abacan Bridge, has always had a honky-tonk feel.

In here, the attitude is a bit more brash, a little looser, a touch of the wild, wild west on Kapampangan soil. Balibago was both a residential and a commercial district—with prime villages like Diamond Subdivision providing major housing for American G.I.s and their families. The premiere hotel in the area was Marlim Mansion, which still stands today, and across it—the celebrated Angeles Fried Chicken restaurant—host to many birthday, anniversary and graduation bashes, owned by Taus family.

Other Balibago “institutions” include Johnny’s Grocery (where we went shopping for our Junior-Senior Prom food supply) and Del Rosario Swimming Pool Compound, located at the foot of Abacan Bridge, where many an Angeleño kid learned to swim. Balibago subsisted primarily on Clark, and the myriads of shops and businesses that dotted its landscape naturally reflected complex American tastes: swanky bars with go-go girls, galleries that peddled velvet paintings, Kon-Tiki carvings and artworks with exotic South Pacific themes, fastfoods with American names (Spic ‘n Span, A&W), rattan furniture shops, dozens of hotels and motels with pretentions of poshness. Along the main highway, animated neon signs advertised the clubbing pleasures of Little Brown Jug and Cock and Bull. The whole stretch of Friendship Hi-Way and Fields Avenue housed the seedier establishments that promised more wanton delights.

Nearby Clark Field was terra incognita for a lot of us teeners back in the 70s, an exclusive enclave reserved for a privileged few (Americans and their dependents). People spoke of a commissary with endless rows of the freshest apples and peaches, Pacex milk, Hershey’s kisses, macadamia nuts and more! There were stories told about fancy restaurants like Top Hat and Coconut Grove, of Olympic size pools with gleaming white tiles at the Officers’ Club and of visits by celebrities like Xavier Cugat and Bob Hope. I remember going there only once, as part of a group invited by Wagner High School officials, for a tour of their art-and-crafts facilities. I came away foolishly impressed by the American dream, and for some time, relished the thought of Philippine statehood as espoused by Cabangbang.

Now, more than a decade after Pinatubo, the atmosphere around this perimeter is more sedate, the din of raucous laughter a bit quieter. It still is a people-friendly place, and shopping here can be quite a thrill. Art galleries and frame shops --with their precious old stock of artworks, are concentrated here, and there is still that delicious possibility of unearthing a masterpiece from the 60s and 70s painted by Jose Bumanlag David, Patricio Salvador or Felix Gonzales—noted masters of the brush who once plied their talents here.

Astro Park, fronting the Clark main gate, provides the ideal green spot for games and afternoon gambols. Next door neighbors to galleries and furniture shops are modern-day KTVs and coffee shops, catering to a whole new community, more local than international. German and Australian retirees have replaced the Americans, even the Koreans have arrived, giving rise to thriving multi-cultural businesses and all-new relationships.

The big city of my youth seems so much smaller now, but with so many attractions (and, surprising distractions!) to assault the senses, it still is so easy to lose one’s way . In a sense, you can never find your way out of Angeles, because the city—like some giant magnet—will draw you back in. Perhaps it is its “there’s something-for-everyone” patronage to diversity that makes people stay. Or the fact that it has retained its human scale in the midst of growth and modernity.

To me, its enduring appeal lies in it capacity to make the most lasting impressions, a place of the rich past which has created its own vital present--where people can take comfort in knowing that they can leave Angeles, for half a lifetime or more, and return to find most of their fascinating memories of this proud city still safe and intact.

Sunday, September 15, 2013

36. HOW I "GAT" JOSE RIZAL


Now here's a large, vintage oil portrait of our national hero, Jose P. Rizal. I have always been on the lookout for portraits of Philippine heroes as they always remind me of my early grade school days--when every classroom had a framed photo of a 'bayani' like Jose Abad Santos, Melchora Aquino, Marcelo del Pilar and the like.


The best portraits of course, were of the National Hero, Rizal, often done in oil and hanged in the most important parts of the school, like the Principal's Office or the School Library. Under the hero's gaze, we would read our borrowed books, with our mentors' hope that we would be inspired enough by Gat Rizal, to be heroic ourselves. But that, of course, was not always the case--so back to the story.


I actually found this 1953 painting online--first on ebay, then on a local buy-and-sell site. It was signed by Teofilo Tabac. and is rather large--24 in. x 35 in. The portrait is rendered in an oval background on a rectangular canvass, which, I thought was more unusual. It was relatively in good condition, saved for a few scruffs. The only drawbook was the price-- a staggering Php150,000 when first posted. At first I thought, this was a mistake--I had valued the painting to be between 10K-15K-- so I proceeded to contact the Seller. He verified that the price tag was indeed 150K, which was so way out of my league.


The painting did not sell after several re-postings, and so I proceeded to monitor its progress on the other site on which it was posted. A few weeks after, the Rizal painting was reposted with a drastically reduced price of 15K. By then, I had to put on hold on my artwork purchases and controlled my impulse to grab it.


 It was the best decision that I ever made, because even at 15K, the fine painting did not sell--and once again, it was reposted with a 10K price tag. I sort of lost track of the painting when I went on vacation abroad for a month. While still in Auckland, I decided, on a whim, to check if the Rizal portrait was still online--and it was! And the price had gone down to 8K! The posting was to end in two days, but I would be away still, so no way could I possibly get this vintage work.


When I did get home two weeks later, I checked the portrait once more--it didn't sell! Thank God, I still kept the contact number of the Seller, so even if he had taken the item off the site, I managed to track her down. Over the phone, we concluded our deal (we agreed on 8K), got her adddress and sent someone to pick up the painting with my payment. A half-acnetury old painting of our great national hero was finally mine!


So here I am, on Rizal Day, musing over my Rizal find, recently reframed and restored by a local artist in nearby Angeles. It may be the work of an unknown artist, but I like the quality of the work--the preciseness of the hero's likeness, which was based on an older picture I've seen before in some old textbooks.


The overall execution of Rizal--pardon the pun--is excellent. I will most likely hang this Rizal portrait in my bedroom, above my bed (sorry, I have no library), where perhaps, it will inspire me more to write about historical things and stuff, until I say 'adios, patria adorada!'.

Sunday, September 8, 2013

35. Review: O, INDU: The Virgen de los Remedios Story

 Category: Books
Genre: Religion & Spirituality 
Author: Edna L. Gueco

Pampanga was a hotbed of socialism and Huk insurgency in the 50s. So, to temper these 'godless ideologies', Bishop Cesar Ma. Guerrero of the new Diocese of San Fernando launched the Cruzada ning Pamanisi at Lugud (Crusade of Penance and Charity) .

 “Aqui en Pampanga hay mucha piedad, pero poca caridad! (Here in Pampanga, there is much piety but little charity!)” the Bishop noted.The symbol of the crusade revolved around a small image of a Virgin from Baliti; she was borrowed and titled Virgen de los Remedios. Thus, the tradition of religious processions and acts of charity (lamac) began. Virgen de los Remedios made the rounds of Pampanga towns for a full year, and the towns took turns hosting the image. The devotion touched lives, healed wounds, converted people and helped stem the tide of Communism.

In the next year of the Cruzada however, the people of Baliti, due to some misinformation, refused to loan out their Virgin, to the disappointment of the Bishop. Emotions ran high in Baliti, with threats that "blood will flow" if the Virgin is taken forcibly from them. Bishop Guerrero thus had a second image made, a taller version of the original Baliti Virgin--and this was the image that was canonically crowned in 1956. Eventually, two more replicas were made of the image, for use in the northern and southern Pampanga towns. The 'Coronada' Virgin now remains in the Chancery, while the Baliti Virgin has its own shrine. At one point, Baliti had to suffer the stigma of being a town of selfish and possessive people, and as a result, the crowned duplicate at the Chancery is looked at and recognized as the real Patroness of Pampanga.

This book traces the beginnings (and all the drama) of the Virgen de los Remedios devotion that began in the early 1950s, and continues with unabated fervor to this day. The author, a native of Baliti, also seeks to explain that fateful moment when the town decided to withhold their image from participating in the crusade, for reasons never really brought to light. In so doing, Baliti missed having their Virgin crowned by Vatican--and lost its chance of being part of history. Through the years, there were attempts to soothe the ill feelings between the Church and the people of Baliti, but Time seems to be the best healer of wounds.

The book is replete with legends and lore about the original Virgen de los Remedios of Baliti (as it is referred to, to differentiate it from the Virgen de los Remedios of Pampanga). There are also personal anecdotes, testimonials from recipients of various miracles plus contributed articles in Kapampangan with English translations. The major drawback is the poor quality of black and white pictures--all appear washed out and pixelized. It's a pity because it would have been interesting to see the difference between the original and the replica of the Virgin. At Php1,000, it is also pricey, but local history books are so rare these days, they get snapped up real fast by major book dealers.

Sunday, September 1, 2013

34. BAGUIO BOY III: Where Have All the Folkies Gone?

 FADED FOLK. The Gingerbread Tape, recovered. 

Over the weekend, I was rummaging through my desk, when I found, in the rear compartment, a tape I made in 1975, of a one-night gig at Gingerbread Man Folk House. I plunked this about-to-be-extinct 33-year old tape in my still-functioning cassette player, and out came a familiar voice, accompanied by a single guitar, singing the message songs that caught the fancy of my generation—Baez, Dylan, Guthrie, Lightfoot, Collins, CSN&Y, Simon & Garfunkel, Peter, Paul and Mary, Denver, Taylor, Young, King, and many more.

I am instantly transported back to my Baguio student days, when I, too, joined the folk bandwagon by serendipity, jamming with the same folkies whose voices I had saved on my Scotch cassette—Caloy Medina, Tito Mina, Bubut Olarte—considered as one of Baguio’s finest troubadours. That time, the city had a growing reputation for having the best folk houses around, populated mostly by hip college kids, before the advent of internet cafes.

 Fireplace, strategically located along Assumption Road was always packed with a motley mix of students, residents and tourists. On Bonifacio Road, at the foot of St. Louis University was Gingerbread Man, operated by Mars Cuesta, which had mainly students as captive audience. These two became the enclaves of Baguio’s bohemians, beatniks and plain folk music lovers—of which I would soon find myself a willing participant.

 JUST DUET! Tony Marasigan and I, singing at a school concert. I believe we performed a reworked version of P, P & M's, "Rocky Road". 1976. 

I discovered American and English folk music when I was 12, from my big Sis who sang these songs in "Rock Masses" with 2 guitar-toting friends. They would cover “All My Trials”, “Kumbaya” and “If I Had a Hammer”. But they would also dish up "protest songs" like “The Times They Are A-Changing”, “Sounds of Silence”, “Where Have All the Flowers Gone” and “If I Were Free”.

 FOLK DISCOGRAPHY. Part of my extensive collection of LP's (long-playing records) that got me hooked on folk music. 

While I was fascinated with the melody, I was caught up in the storytelling of a love gone so dreadfully wrong, of Johnnies going to war, of an answer that’s blowing in the wind, and of the travails of young and tender ladies, wayfaring strangers, rebels and royalties. Thus, after their rehearsals, I would borrow my sister’s guitar and virtually taught myself how to play those chords from a JINGLE songbook.

With 3 chords mastered, I could actually do half-a-dozen songs in no time at all. Learning to pluck too a lot longer; I learned calypso plucking by spinning the records of Joan Baez, over and over again, which must have driven my siblings nuts. I was also responsible for damaging countless stereo needles using this technique.

 *********** 

Fast forward 1975.
Baguio’s construction boom was in full swing. Cashing in on this economic boom and riding on the folk wave, bistros and restaurants were hastily put up to cater to a new listening audience. Bahay Kubo Restaurant was one such place along Session Road. With the place finished, a call was sounded for folksingers. The building contractor (my Manong Nanding) told the owners not to look far---for he has 2 brothers-in-law (meaning me and my elder brother Gregg) who could provide entertainment for 10 bucks a night. A repertoire had to be quickly drawn up, songs memorized and my career was on the way!

 HIGHLY-STRUNG. With my treasured 850 peso classic guitar which I always lugged in school, for my after-class gig. 

 “You can get anything you want, at Bahay Kubo Restaurant”, a reworked “Alice’s Restaurant”, by Arlo Guthrie was a favorite opener. Melvin Tampinco popularized that song for Bahay Kubo, and every folk singer learned to play it. The same formula worked when one concluded Denver’s song with “Take Me Home, Session Road” (instead of Country Road). It was not uncommon too, to incorporate a local folk song in one’s song list. “Salidum-ay”, with its tri-lingual lyrics was a top sing-along song (“Lipistik ka ng a-lipistik, di ka naman ag-brush ng teeth! Ay, ay salidum-ay..”). Bawdy songs were also de riguer, if you want to work up a sleepy crowd. (“Ang lalake pag umihi, iniipit pa sa daliri”…). 

While I have performed before an audience in school productions, I have never sang for people just a few feet away from you. This made the experience even more nerve-wracking. Bahay Kubo, I now conclude, had the worse crowd of all; but it can’t be blamed. With a dissonant name and ambiance, it was really a restaurant masquerading as a folk joint.


By now, I had gained a measure of confidence insofar as performing in public was concerned. Out of audacity, I auditioned for a slot at Gingerbread Man Folk House, 10 pesos a night—with free sandwich dinner. I remember rushing from my class to the nearby folk house with my guitar to sing for Mars Cuesta, and after 3 or 4 songs, he told me I was in! I can’t believe my eyes—Gingerbread Man was THE big league and I made it! Whoopee!

 BAGUIO'S FOLK MUSICIANS, UNITE! Over 20 folk singers trooped to U.P. Baguio Auditorium to perform in the city's biggest folk gig. As usual, I sang my trademark "Silver Dagger", "Fennario" and sang "Shule Aroon", a duet with Vangie

I tell you what. My voice is anything but good. Someone once described it as the singing of a man with a bad nasal drip. Many times, I have been heckled for it.

But what the heck, Dylan's voice was once likened to that of a dog caught in a barbed wire fence. Looking back now, I think it was my obscure repertoire that separated me from the other singers. I was the only male singer that tripped on Joan Baez and Judy Collins folk, wailing unheard-of ballads like “Silver Dagger”, "The Trees They Grow High", “Henry Martin”. 

 FOLK CONCERT OR WHAT?. What's JC Superstar musical excerpt doing in a folk concert like this?

My material was so strange, I researched on the earliest precurors of familiar folk tunes and sang them. So instead of “Pretty Peggy-O”, I would sing “Fennario”. “Blowin’ in the Wind” was “No More Auction Block for Me”. “ Cruel War” was “The Warfare Is Raging”. The most extreme was “Scarborough Fair”, which I introduced in a radio program as a “lyric song so old, it was documented in Ravenscroft’s Melismata in 1611..”, --to the total bewilderment of the DJ.

 THANK GOD, I'M A COUNTRY BOY. Caloy produced this hootenanny at St. Louis' Girls' High. I don't even remember what I sang here. But our Group Finale was "Enter the Young"--and it wasn't even a folk song! 

And so now, I am listening once more to this tape. I smile as I hear Caloy Medina and his repertoire of Simon and Garfunkel songs ("Flowers Never Bend with the Rainfall", "Hazy Shades of Winter") , with an occasional Mclean ("Pride Parade") and Denver originals ("Gospel Changes"). Caloy was my favorite singer; he had an easy, casual style and was handy with a 12-string guitar. He was also enterprising, producing folk concerts that gathered the best folkies of the city. Caloy was also a Philosophy teacher, and years after, I heard that he secured a scholarship in Belgium and is now a Ph.D holder.


Tito Mina came next after Caloy’s set. Tito was the most accomplished musician of the bunch; he played wonderful guitar and brought a more edgy approach to his songs that were such unconventional choices to sing in a folk house. On tape, he sings Minnie Ripperton’s “Lovin’ You”. Just a few years later, he would record his most well-known hit, “Ikaw Pa Rin” and move to Europe with his Belgian wife. He recently had a homecoming concert this year. I wonder if he still remembers his co-folkie every Thursday nights at Gingerbread. ;-).

 I was also surprised to hear myself singing a duet with my schoolmate Jane. With my nasal voice, we did “Hangman” and “ Paper o’ Pins”. Striking solo, she sang “If I Had Wings”, a Peter Yarrow song I taught her. In my mind, I hear again classmate Veronne Perfecto and her college sweetheart. As Mike and Veronne, they made the rounds of the folk circuit and wowed campus crowds.


David Medina, Caloy’s younger brod, also was a Gingerbread regular. Many years later, I would become an officemate of his ex-wife at Saatchi & Saatchi. Bubut Olarte, a law student at that time, was a gifted Dylan interpreter. Johnnie Chan was another schoolmate with amazing presence but he would migrate to the U.S. while still in college.

Tony Marasigan, Joey Carino, March Fianza, Jojo Barreiro, Mannix Santos, Vangie and Ira—these were the talented people I recall having worked or jammed with, in an open, artistic milieu possible only in Baguio, even under a regime of repression.

 PALAK-FOLK-KAN. Yet another concert--WEN DAKAMI DAYTOY-- at the Baguio Colleges Foundation. I would hang up my guitar strings a year after. 

Those years may have gone, but for one brief shining moment, up a cool, mountain city, we raised our voices as one, singing our hearts out and our personal convictions through the music of the common people—nasal twang and all.

(28 May 2008)