Tres Marias, tres Paulinas

Lulu Camello Pasamba, Marissa Ileto and I have known one another since we were in kindergarten--that's 58 years of involvement in things of childhood, adolescence, young adulthood, midlife and now, the autumn of our lives. But throughout our individual and distinctive journeys, we never lost our girlish giggles honed from years of shared fun at the campus of St. Paul College of Quezon City (now a university).

Since 2017, we've had yearly get-togethers to catch up on one another's life and doings, to air our hopes and frustrations in between nibbles of the best of the Christmas season from jamon serrano to slivers of Marca Piña cheese downed with coffee or something stiffer.

On Dec. 26, we decided on a leftover party. I brought the leftover Ponkan oranges from home, plus bars of Amparo's Apothecary soap for each of them. Speaking for myself, I think that warm baths with handmade soap are the ultimate luxury that is simple to achieve. So I've been handing out soap bars this season, to my blood sisters and to my chosen sisters like Marissa and Lulu.

From Marissa, I learned a new way to serve fried Spam. Just marinate in sugar before cooking, then the sugar provides a honeyed glaze. You can dip the meat in vinegar the way you would with tocino. For her fluffy omelette, she broke six eggs and threw in cheese, tomatoes and onions.

Lulu practically brought the contents of her fridge: potato soup, raisin bread, chicken inasal, banana loaf.

As the yearly hostess Marissa brought out the Lanelle Abueva Fernando bowls and plates and her best silverware, I realized that this was an exercise in graceful abundant living. Marissa gave each of us a lip balm. Lulu, a family medicine practitioner, brought out her acupuncture kit and offered half an hour's relaxation as she inserted needles in my knees and in Marissa's upper leg and ankle.

Before we parted, Lawin Ileto, Marissa's eldest child, took our pictures sober and drunken with merriment and the pleasure of each other's company in the house that is a chock-full of arts and crafts.

In Marissa Ileto's art-filled home, three Paulinians return. The hostess is the lady seated in the middle.

The lighter side of three professionals on the threshold of retirement

In the autumn of our years

In the autumn of these Paulinians' years, they, we still behave like the school children we were within the walls of a convent school.

Without an authority figure to oversee us, the giggles are unrestrained, the guffaws almost unlady-like, the humor enough to make the most macho of our husbands blush a rose pink.

Thank you, Elizabeth "Bibit" Esteva Llamas for being the tireless organizer of reunions not only during the Christmas season but throughout the year whenever there's former classmate flies from overseas into town. I may have missed most of those get-togethers, but the Christmas thing, I can't forego, for as long as my arthritic knees can haul me from place to place.

Once again, I took pictures to sweeten the remembering.

The first arrivals Vicki Narciso Valero and Corazon "Punay" Gonzales Gayola have time to put up their feet and chat.

In the invite we were asked to come in either green or red. Red dominated the afternoon. Here are Bibit (seated) and Pam Bañez Gonzalez in wine red.

I can't think of a more festive house to hold our party in than Marissa Ileto's (M is at the head of the table in a green sleeveless blouse). Clockwise: Marianne Martin Soriano, Vicki, Bibit, Marissa, Lyn Sanchez Garcia, Ana Marie Earnshaw Rigor, Punay and Aurora Umali who answers to two nicknames: Princess and Jing. I'm partial to Princess because she behaves like one.

Lovelier even when facing the other way: Bibit, Pam, Vicki and Grace Palma Tiongco

And then it was time for a simple game of chance called LCR (for Left, Center, Right). Out with the 20-peso bills as we took turns rolling the dice. More teasings, more laughter aimed at Marianne who was last year's winner in case Lady Luck was on her side again.

A flushed Victoria is the victor. Someone ribbed her, "O, ayan, may pamasahe ka na pauwi sa Bulacan." That's where she is spending the New Year holidays with her sons.

Parlor games that challenged our ability to bend, balance, run a short distance

Class picture of St. Paul College Quezon City High School Batch '73 as we look today. Tallest girl on the second row (fourth from left) is Socorro Tecson Mangahas who also answers to the nickname Babeth. All photos, except the last, by Babeth Lolarga

One wedding and a mini reunion

Likha Daza Umali with his bride Maria Isabel at their Green Meadows Clubhouse reception following their wedding at Santuario de San Jose. Likha has adopted the name Josemaria and now goes by the nickname Joms. But to his mother Meran and his godmother (me), he'll always be Iki Boy, a fully breastfed child. His birth signaled the start of Meran's and my becoming breastfeeding advocates/warriors. Together with other breastfeeding moms like Mercy Fabros and Connie Calimon, we put up Gabay at Kalinga ng mga Ina in the '80s inspired by La Leche League, a breastfeeding support group. Congratulations, Iki; best wishes, Isabel.

Likha and Isabel's wedding also served to reunite some Paulinians who were a batch ahead of me. From St. Paul College Quezon City High School Batch '72 are these unforgettable ladies, all campus leaders in the '70s: Marian Reyes, Mary Cuyegkeng, Maan Ereñeta and Meran. They were never lovelier than in this phase of their (our) lives. We have finally grown into our real faces. Photos by Babeth Lolarga

Twin Popsies and enchantment in an evening breeze

In October last year, before super typhoon Yolanda hit and wrought havoc on lives, properties and plans, I was blessed to be part of the workshop "Writing the Story: Communicating from Biblical Perspectives" at the Institute for Studies in Asian Church and Culture (ISACC). All the resource persons, Miriam Adeney, Frank Gray and Melba Padilla Maggay, set the participants at ease and helped us sustain the flow of words. There's something to writing in a group - too much solitude can be a pain sometimes. I share something short and hopefully sweet, instigated by Adeney's writing prompt: the ice cream cart. Read it through the un-seasonal showers that continue to tap on the roof tonight.

This blog is affectionately dedicated to pianist Najib Ismail and music lover Joseph Uy for reasons only they know. Najib, who was equal to Sumi Jo's lyrical singing early last month, will again collaborate with two Koreans, soprano Yun Kyoung Yi and baritone Daesan No, in "Enchante," an evening of bel canto and opera music, on March 27 at 7 p.m. at Makati's Ayala Museum.


Source of image: http://have-a-fun-time.tumblr.com

Once upon a time, in the Year of our Lord 1965, the same year Marcos was elected President for his first term, a fourth grader from St. Paul College of Quezon City always counted the jingling coins in her skirt's side pocket. She had no wallet then. But she knew that if she let herself go hungry at lunchtime, she could reward herself with Twin Popsicles bought from the Magnolia ice cream vendor who parked his cart outside the school gates at dismissal time.

She knew how to tame her hunger in such a way that for certain days of the week, she had enough for orange Popsies. Later, as the coins grew in number, she had enough, too, for a bigger treat and a wider choice - the pinipig crunch or the ice cream sandwich

Once upon today, that convent-raised girl is now lactose intolerant, and the reward she looks forward to at the end of each day is the coolness of the breeze as she lays her head down for a well-earned rest. A rest now made possible by the sound of "Ombre Legere" from the comic opera Dinorah and gaily sung by Yun Kyoung Yi.

Old old works that look new

If there's anything that the deaths of friends and relatives and the spate of calamities that hit the country have taught me, it's a certain kind of detachment to things once considered precious--those objects with sentimental value that one doesn't want to release to the archives or give away to nearest kin and dearest friends as gifts.

I've kept these works for several decades already. When I checked the back of the drawings or the front and corners, I was more daring in signing my name. These works are all from the year 1969.

I was then a seventh grader at St. Paul College Quezon City (SPCQ). That was the year when Sister Glyceria became our art teacher--she had just attended the Philippine Art Educators Association summer workshop that year or the year before. Art education became a required, but minor, subject, just like music. (Needless to say, I had a stint in Glee Club-bing, too, as a soprano.)

Between visual arts and singing, these days I just sing along to my YouTube collection of songs from the '30s (when my parents were children) all the way to 2013, the year I discovered Adele.

I've kept going with the painting and occasional drawing. I still use dry media sometimes. Oil pastels were my fave medium in the '60s and'70s.

Let me confess something I know in my gut: I was bolder in '69 than today. I guess part of the boldness stemmed from youthfulness. I was fearless about committing mistakes, and I was proud of my works. Otherwise, why would I have stored them this long? When I think about it, art, unlike like-or-death medical surgery, allows for mistakes. That thought can certainly embolden a 13-year-old girl.

Tomorrow most of these works are going to a friend, who must have been a sister in a past life. She has always been appreciative of the things I do with my hands.

Meanwhile, some batchmates from that SPCQ Class of '73 met up with the school's alumni association prez, Verge Gepuela, for lunch to turn over two separate checks, one for the Bohol quake survivors, the second for Yolanda's orphans, all from the collections made from our silver and ruby jubilees. The amount ain't much considering the magnitude of these twin tragedies, but what's important is the donations came from the the hearts, not just the pockets, of surviving members of Class '73.

Happy and grateful, at last, to be a Paulinian.

At St. Paul University's cafe on the Aurora Blvd. and Gilmore Ave, QC, campus are (seated from left): Concept, now Marie, Zamora-Lazo, Verge Gepuela, Hayni Estrada-Prudente, Vicki Narciso-Valero and Bibit Esteva-Llamas. Standing are Babeth and Marissa Ileto, my inspiration for her style of creative living (she was the original fine arts major in the class).

Becoming ruby

For awhile there, we (a minority of St. Paul College Quezon City High School Batch '73) thought that preparations for our ruby or 45th jubilee had gone kaput, and we would just end up standing to be acknowledged for a few seconds of applause on homecoming day.

Never say never. Nothing like leaving the picking up and organizing to the professionals. So when tireless classmate Miriam Gimenez pleaded that we had to show up for this meeting, who were we to decline and use the bad weather for excuse?

Corporate setting gives our discussions a serious tone with welcome giggling breaks. Clockwise: The blogger, Marissa Ileto, Hayni Estrada Prudente, Eugene Mesina, Lota Alix Medina, Miriam Gimenez,Teresita Rey Evangelista, Jill Racela Narciso, Elaine Barretto, Marie Zamora Lazo and Ana Marie Earnshaw Rigor. Standing are Vicki Narcisco, Adelle Nadres, Bibit Esteva Llamas and Audrey Agatep General.

Nothing like 14 heads, some gray with age (the let-it-grow-white school), others turned brunettes (becomingly so), invoking the old Paulinian spirit of can do!

So we quickly agreed on being red hot mamas when we show up attired in red tops on Jan. 12, 2013, at the Gilmore campus, on having a core group of dancers to lead our march up the stage, on having our own be-kind-to-ourselves days before the main event (a spiritual "getaway," my tentative term, since there are the apostates who gag at the word retreat or recollection; a Zumba dancercise session to get the energy level high; a group spa to remove calluses of aging; walking tour of Chinatown or some historic district in Manila for the classmates flying from overseas).

Elaine Barretto calls these activities "bonding time."

Nourishment for body, mind, spirit--how can we go wrong with that at this stage in our lives? We hope it entices other classmates out there to join the homecoming.

A time to be serious, a time to be comic

 Of course, from the funds we raised, an amount will be put aside for classmates with serious health and financial issues."Caritas Christi urget nos" is the school motto, after all.

Audrey Agatep General, who hosted this July meeting, said the ruby jubilee may be our "last hurrah"--intimations of mortality there. If we make it to diamond, we may be in wheelchairs or clasping walking canes or assisted by care givers.

Or still remain in fine form like Bibit who just joined the "Honesty Club" by giving up coloring her hair and letting it turn its distinguished color. Below she models the lead dancers' look.

Ruby and silver, yeah!

Bawdy Broads

It speaks a lot about us that when the first volley of picture taking took place, we automatically grouped ourselves near the dessert end of the buffet table. I refer to High School Batch 1973 of St. Paul College, Quezon City.

We met last Saturday at the Hathaway Estates home of Celia in Los Angeles for a reunion that took months in the planning.
Almost half of the 17 Paulinians flew in from the East Coast, three of us from the Philippines. The rest were California residents.

I recognized everyone on sight, but hesitated when I faced Angelica, a pediatrician from Bakersfield. Still soft-spoken, she re-introduced herself. Yes, she seemed the most angelic among us, laughing soundlessly at our selective recollections and later, the tales from the nurses among us.

Marilou recalled the English-speaking classmate who pronounced the word diaphragm “dia-fragem.” No one could recall who it was, but that was good for a guffaw.

Lucy talked about her first years at a US hospital and how a Pinoy colleague was asked by a patient to look for her pocketbook. The nurse asked, “What is the title?” The patient repeated, “I want my pocketbook!” The nurse again asked, “Who is the author?”
Later, she and Lucy found out that pocketbook was a synonym for purse. Or bag, as we called it in the Philippines.

Someone asked who among us was still menstruating. There was still one who said she still had regular periods and how she impatiently looked forward to menopause. Marilou couldn’t hold back an envious, “You mean you’re still lubricating?”

Somehow the talk moved on to penis sizes, and Lucy swore that the men with the longest ones were the Puerto Ricans. She peeked beneath the sheet covering an anesthetized patient and saw a penis that stretched just above the man’s knee. “And that’s not even at an aroused state,” Lucy said.

Marilou said, “Wow! Pity his lover. She must have a lacerated vagina!”

Pinky cried out, “You know why Miguelito Cotto just lost? Because he had to drag around a penis that long and that heavy so he couldn’t avoid Pacquiao’s blows.”

All that talk about phallic sizes made us hungry again. Before long, someone wished aloud for Vigan longganisa with omelette and fried rice. Her wish was Celia’s command. So past midnight, we had an early breakfast while the rest of the City of Angels slept.

At the last round of picture taking, when the chill was in the air, Celia yelled at the guys clicking away with the digital
cameras, “Hurry! Our clitorises are freezing!”