In the absence of family

The Lolargas and Fernandezes are Baguio migrants, the former having settled here in the early '60s, the latter in 1992 to be exact. But my cousins, with whom we used to live in the retirement house of my grandmother (ever since sold), have moved to the sprawling Metro Manila or abroad, leaving me the sole Lolarga in the city.

When Rolly Fernandez (second from left), our family breadwinner, started teaching at the UP Baguio, we had to sell a number of artworks so we could get by from day to day on his assistant professor's salary. It wasn't until he accepted the post of bureau chief of Philippine Daily Inquirer Northern and Central Luzon in '93 did we loosen our belts a bit and breathe a little easier.

Rolly and I chose to remember one Sunday who was with us all throughout a financially shaky start in a new city where our kids went to public school. That was one reason for hosting a small reunion of friends, chief of them two retired but still intellectually active professors, Del Tolentino and Ben Tapang (bookending the group shot). How the two get by without social media accounts you tell me!

Tita Eppie Blanco (in red) is another one who stubbornly rejects Facebook and prefers to engage on socio-political issues on a deeply personal level. She has an iconic portrait of Chief Justice (she still is ours) Lourdes Sereno hugging her.

Because Eppie had long served Philippine Airlines' ground crew she has a colorful knowledge of the who's who of Baguio, like social chroniclers George Sison or Maurice Arcache. Only better--she dealt with these people personally, and they remain her contacts.

Rolly and I love her buko sinigang, which she ladles in bowls while talking a mean streak about the President the country doesn't deserve and the voter education needed to make the small steps to real change possible. She has voting age grandchildren, and like her, they're voting straight Liberal Party.

Speaking of PAL, Maria Klaridelle A Reyes (with son Marco on her lap) shuttles between wherever the airlines flies her as an attendant and Baguio so visits to our city are definitely precious. She is my eldest daughter Kimi Fernandez's friend from their Baguio City National Science High School years. Marco and my grandchild Kai are playmates whenever the gap in their years is bridgeable.

To my left is another high school pal of Kimi's, Agnes, pregnant with her first baby and the latest would-be mascot of their play group. I bless Kimi who added (bought, not cooked) the soft lengua to the festive fare that included my chicken potato salad and longganisa spaghetti, Rolly's salad and ribs (bought them himself), Eppie's spicy sausages and chicken pastel.

Junley Lorenzana Lazaga brought wife Janine and children Inigo and Joaquin. The toddler Aquin is off camera playing with Rolly's collection of bells or sneaking sips from his father's bottle of beer.

I grew up in a large clan complete with a great grandmother, a grandmother, assorted uncles and aunts, multi generations of first and second cousins that met at Col. Ernesto and Dr. Erlinda Lolarga's home every Christmas. The tradition fell away as the old guard died and the new one joined the Filipino diaspora to North America.

In the absence of family, I still have these.

Photo by Junley

Belated pats on everyone's back

With less than a month to plan, plot, market, rehearse, look for sponsor/s, the Baguio Writers Group under Jennifer Patricia A. Cariño, my hijada, I always like to boast, produced in cooperation with Hill Station Restaurant "Fever: An Evening of Love Songs and Poetry" early this love month. Before the Panagbenga, the Philippine Military Academy alumni reunion, before other Arts Month activities took off.

Being writers, the group must have the good or bad habit (depending on how you look at it) of getting last-minute dopamine-cum-adrenaline shots that enable us to converge and put together our energies, whether we're composing commissioned handwritten love letters, baking heart-shaped rum cakes or singing and reading our hearts out to keep The Word alive.

To all who were there for us, family, friends, lovers and other strangers, a big thank you for making Feb. 6 a night that continues to sparkle in our memories. Onwards to the next project!

Guitarist Ian Paolo Acosta and singer Lissa Romero de Guia testing the Hill Station's sound system before the evening performance Photos by Babeth Lolarga

Merci Javier Dulawan and Padma Perez "womanning" our "Love (Letters) for Sale" table at the Hill Station Bar. On the piano is one of the pre-ordered rum cakes baked by Toottee Chanco Pacis. We had, if my count is correct while it was my turn to watch the table, five commissions that evening. More came in through our online campaign.

Jenny Cariño reads her lovely poems from the cell phone's screen.

Kervin Calabias recites from memory Joi Barrios's poem honoring the disappeared (desaparecidos).

BWG vice president and literature Prof. Junley Lorenzana Lazaga reads an Iluko poem by Leona Florentino, a cultural and literary heroine.

Lissa enchants, enthralls and engages us with her wonderful voice. To this day, her encore piece "Lullaby of Birdland" is stuck as my last song syndrome.

Lissa, queen of the night, with her bouquet and some members and officers of BWG. Thank you, whoever took this shot. I was in Cloud 9 then.