Bounty from the post office

My incoming mail is received by my sister Ellen Suzy Lolarga in Pasig because postal service in Baguio is erratic. Outgoing from the centrally located post office on downtown Session Road is reliable. But door-to-door delivery is a la tsansa. So my correspondents and I have agreed to send mail to our family's Pasig address. Suzy waits awhile for the mail to make a slight pile before sending them by courier service to Baguio. I know--it sounds like another of my impractical projects. Ray Dean Salvosa, former president of the University of the Cordilleras, once said I was one of the few he knew who still used the post office for messages. He asked why I don't use email. Well, kind sir, I do use email, mostly for business correspondence. But ever since I was a child, I was enamored with slow mail. So imagine my delight when an envelop from Virginia's Poet Laureate, Luisa A. Igloria, spilled this much paper richness--two poems by her ("Man Shoveling Snow on a Unicycle Dressed as Darth Vader While Playing Flaming Bagpipes" and "Yes, Or No"), a bookmark showing a reproduction of a Japanese painting ("Evening Snow in Kamubara"), four blank postcards, including literary ones feaaturing lines from Charles Baudelaire and Voltaire. Also in Suzy's parcel are letters from poet Marj Evasco in her refined script, artist Arlene Esperida with a quick sketch of a tiger, tiger burning bright and Ogot Sumulong and his collage. A good Friday, indeed!

Postal mail resumes

All collages by Ogot Sumulong

A hint of normality returned to my life when my daughter Kimi brought up to Baguio from our house in Pasig some letters addressed to me. They all came from one source: Ogot Sumulong of Chicago, Illinois.

Ever since we reconnected a few years ago, he and I have been exchanging postcards and letters apart from emailed messages. Although he's in FB as Agu Sumulong, for some reason we can't be friends here. Besides, I'm too analog to want FB communication with him.

Ogot is highly skilled in making collages from anything, including a Twinings herbal tea label, a picture of Martin Luther, among others. I don't know if his use of the Andy Warhol picture of actress Elizabeth Taylor is a play on my name. What matters is he allows himself to be playful in his retirement years and during this pandemic.

He confessed in his letter dated April 22 this year that he had "really nothing to share." I beg to disagree, dear O. You don't know how your mailed collages have given my spirit a huge boost.

Will reply to you soon as I go around the ruling that disallows senior citizens from leaving the house.

Scraps from a rainy day

Yesterday's and the other day's strong afternoon downpour succeeded in keeping us indoors and drenching plans of going boating on Burnham Lake (a child's simple request this summer, but it still has to happen). This situation was aggravated by short power outages, no cable, no Internet, dead landline.

Our resident Mary Poppins took this opportunity to go through the detritus of 30 years of her sister's conjugal life. She cleaned and filed, set aside what still looked useful and threw away what must long ago have been discarded if someone like me had a knack for good housekeeping.

Last of the April rains that made May flowers possible. This rain is gentle compared to what's now hitting southern and northeastern US.

Among the finds was a bag full of documents (SSS, BIR and Pag-ibig membership numbers--can't lose or misplace those as I approach 60), UP Diliman class cards from '73-'77 with encircled final grades, pay slips from various employers, a media ID card that allowed me to cover John Paul II's first Philippine visit, Christmas cards and the inevitable stash of precious letters. Two stood out: a postcard from Beijing from my journalism professor, the late Raul R. Ingles, and a letter composed on an electric typewriter from a friend in Chicago who I've lost track of.

There's the thread of a story from all these finds, but I'm not predisposed to draft one. I'm just happy for throwback moments like these.

The elegant penmanship of Raul R. Ingles

I still have to encounter an email that reads as good as this typewritten letter from Ogot Sumulong dating back to Jan. 20, 1982. Photos by Babeth Lolarga