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.

Leaves on grass

Highland living, if you steer clear of the smoggy Central Business District, permits walks. I take them with company or alone. Alone I can pace myself, pause, take note of what I tend to overlook. The morning's discovery are these curling, drying leaves on green grass. Looking at them and the shadows cast by trees unseen in the picture makes my mind churn. The thought is this--if left alone (not swept into a pile and thrown in the biodegradable bin), these fallen leaves will be absorbed by the earth, will enrich it and allow for new growth. Nothing spectacularly original about that thought. This "dying" with a purpose reminds me of Wendell Berry's exhortation: "Practice resurrection." To fellow blogger Padma Perez I owe another discovery: poet Berry and his simple yet powerful words.

TBT: Our ancestors

Formal portrait of Telesfora Cariño Lolarga and her five children. Seated are: Pacita L. Romero and Febe L. Valdellon. Standing (from left): Celso, Enrique Jr. and Ernesto.

My very (emphasis on the "very") organized sister Suzy, the one who has taken it upon herself to sort things out, in a manner of speaking, in the Pasig and Baguio houses unfailingly brings out from some ignored or rarely visited corner precious finds like this formal portrait of our grandmother, Telesfora Cariño Lolarga, and her five adult children in their graduation togas. Knowing how much education was valued in her time (she was, after all, an elementary school teacher in her youth), I'm guessing that the serene smile on her face is maternal pride because her kids are all professionals, and more!

This adoring granddaughter reposts this photo on what's known as Throwback Thursday (TBT) in other parts of social media today.

When my correspondence buddy Benjie Abellera once saw Lola's picture, he compared her beauty to that of a young Kim Novak.

TBT also makes me recall writer-anthropologist-bookshop owner Padma Perez and the rueful text she sent me when her Lola Darling passed away and she had to suddenly leave Baguio for the rites. She asked if we would ever be as gracious as that generation of lolas. I could only come up with this answer: "In our own way, in our own way."

The picture used to hang in Lola's house in Lower Brookside, Baguio. It's now with us, still in its laminated form. I know that lamination is not exactly kind to photographs. How to un-laminate is the next move when future budget allows.

Meanwhile, we keep the memory of our Lola and the three sons and one daughter, who are reunited with her, evergreen in our hearts. Auntie Fe is still in Virginia, and our loving thoughts of continued good health fly to her on this Thursday.

In today's Google

What a coincidence to see Audrey Hepburn as image/icon-of-the-day for the Google search machine. A coincidence because just yesterday afternoon, I viewed Jerry Maguire for the third time, I think, and there was this scene where Renee Zellweger's character asks Tom Cruise's Jerry on their first date if her little black dress is "too Audrey Hepburn."

The day before I caught another film, You, Me and Dupree, where Owen Wilson's character, an overstaying house guest in newly weds Kate Hudson and Matt Dillon's lives, is watching Roman Holiday, also for the nth time. He admired Ms. Hepburn for representing "style, grace, ethereal beauty."

Weeks earlier, at a Baguio Writers Group meeting, Padma Perez (or was it Desiree Caluza?) arrived wearing big sunglasses. Martin Masadao tried them on, tilted his head upward and asked if he was more Sophia Loren or Audrey.

Was it coincidence that Ms. Hepburn's name cropped up with some regularity? Maybe not. Maybe it was a lead to her 85th year, if she were still with us.

Happy birthday, AH, angel of ours.

If it ain't broke...

..why change it? Or even fix it? 

That question had been asked also of the refurbished Batmobile when it was George Clooney still playing the guy in the suit who sat behind the wheels of a super-powered car. 

My partner and foremost critic asked me that, too, as he tried to "navigate" his way through this blog's new look (or turbulent waters?) just this Tuesday after I came from a blogging workshop. He grew increasingly exasperated as he kept pressing the wrong buttons and found the visuals flip-flapping this way and that. 

"Why not?" I asked back of oh captain, my captain, and laughed as I showed him where to press the button so he could return to the Classic look that he's more comfy with.

There was a chance to choose one of many Dynamic looks, click on my choice and apply it to this blogspot. Thank you,teachers Padma Perez and Jenny Cariño, for showing me how. I didn't lose a file nor the blogs in my "play list."  The latter is some sort of procrastination station where I like to linger to read the works of fellow bloggers united in the word.

One of our new bloggers from Baguio, who prefers to remain anonymous in the meantime, has one about life's charms and challenges. I must admit to feeling charmed and enticed by the look of the blogs of radical chick Katrina Stuart Santiago and now/here/now/where woman Padma and even that art blog of a more senior writer, Alfredo "Ding" Roces.  

I told P how the look reminded me of a desk with many drawers that I can pull out, depending on what I fancied. Could be the wrong analogy, huh? Okay, maybe I should compare their respective blog's layout to a cabinet of wonders (thanks, Anita Feleo, for the use of your Anvil travel book's title).

I talk too much or over-think things when all I what I want to say is this: 

El Capitan looking forlorn

"Dear Captain RBF, we are missing you in the same way we conceitedly know that you are missing us, the girls in your life, because, well, we're away part or most of the time. Don't be glum, don't be blue, don't answer a simple text of  'How are you?' with 'Still breathing.' We all know what can put a smile on your face again. Just continue to breathe and eat and work and play with Yao Ming the Dog and spin the opera CDs you bought at a bargain bin, and we'll be there in no time at all, down to our last centavo, broke but back in your loving arms. Ha! Got you there." --(signed) Wanna-be dynamic blogger

With The Button who can put a smile back on his face

Photos of Rolly and Butones Fernandez by Babeth Lolarga

Ana Santos at the Cloud

The announcement below came from Mt Cloud's sprite-like moving spirit Padma Perez. This blogger has a few more things to say about Ana and her journal--it came at the right time when a niece and daughter of mine came forward to the family to declare that they would bear their children and raise them as single mothers. In December last year, I gave Ana's journals as my Christmas presents to niece Marga and eldest daughter Kimi.

Since then, Max and Kai/Butones have blossomed in the love and guidance of these two ta/nays and their supportive immediate families, but especially their parents and siblings. Every day that I am with my daughter Kimi in Baguio, she never ceases to amaze me on how she has re-directed her priorities--to be present at Butones's formative years by holding down online jobs that she does from the house. On her breaks or even when she's facing the computer, when Butones needs her, she cuddles and breastfeeds my now 20-month-old apo. She has been a strong advocate of the use of modern cloth diapers that are environment-friendly. She also promotes full breastfeeding to her fellow young moms.

I also love Gershwin songs. In "I've Got Rhythm," the lines "Who could ask for anything more? Who could ask for anything more" most apply to this super-happy nanay/booboo, married in the eyes of church and law and somehow managing to be happy even after, too.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Ana Santos, the woman behind the best-selling journal for single mothers, Happy Even After, will be in Mt Cloud Bookshop, Baguio City, to speak about the journal and share experiences with solo moms on Dec. 14 at 6 p.m.

Happy Even After is a journal that is both a source of information and a well-spring of inspiration for single mothers. Aside from the usual blank pages for one’s notes or diary entries, it includes expert advice, words of encouragement, and useful information such as the full text of Republic Act No. 8972 or the Solo Parents' Welfare Act of 2000. It also contains testimonies by well-known single mothers like television host Angel Jacob, journalist Miriam Grace Go, and widow and political leader Risa Hontiveros, among many.

Ana Santos writes:

"When I became a single parent years ago, I found myself wanting to speak to someone who would understand what I was going through. Raised in a traditional Filipino family, my being a single mother was a hushed topic in family reunions and social gatherings with old friends…

"Over the years and in my work as a journalist, I met other women who have been raising children on their own and found a kind of sisterhood in them. Some were friends, acquaintances or relatives. Others were government officials, incredibly successful career women, celebrities, super models. The title never really mattered. We were all just women trying to find our place in the world and mothers who wanted nothing but the best for our children."

The journal makes a nice Christmas present for single mothers and will be sold at the discounted price of P385 on Dec. 14. The author’s talk is free and open to the public. Mt Cloud Bookshop is located in the Casa Vallejo Building, Upper Session Road, Baguio City, and is open 10:30 a.m.-8 p.m. daily.

The ones who never left my side

They're two of my favorite creative collaborators: Lynett Villariba and Marissa Ileto. Plus factor is they're my pals, too. But I haven't had a chance to do a project with Lynett since she became the extremely busy artistic director of Philippine Daily Inquirer. Marissa is now an international English-as-second-language teacher but is still based in Manila. We are doing our high school batch's souvenir program. Maybe it's part of aging but the process has become slower despite computer technology. Occasion for this social was the book launch of Bobi Valenzuela's essay collection, Minsan, sa Tag-araw, at the old Hiraya Gallery.

One of the three guys seated with me, Caloy Abrera (second from left), left this world abruptly and with a loud clanging of bells and steel. The other one, poet Jolicco de Cuadra (to my right), is gravely ill with Parkinson's disease. His long-time partner, Auggusta de Almeidda, is trying to find a way to keep his medications in steady supply. Apparently still in good form, especially where singing is concerned, is baritone Alex Dacanay (holding his lunch bowl). This was taken in 2002 at Jerry Araos's garden in Antipolo on the occasion of the sculptor's birthday.

Them were the days indeed when we could drink one bottle of beer after another and not even count how many. And we always chose to sit in the smoking section! Oh my, are we all, Sam Sarmenta, Cynthia Alberto Diaz, Dario Noche, Louie-an Pilapil, the blogger, Joel Sarmenta, Amadis Ma. Guerrero, Francis whose last name I've temporarily forgotten, and Rustie Otico, now paying our dues, health-wise. Sam I'd occasionally see in our Kapitolyo neighborhood taking morning walks. At least there's one exercise-conscious member of the Friday Club.

Obviously, from the color they're wearing, this was Valentine's Day in 2011 when Jacqui Magno, my favorite Pinay jazz singer along with Gou de Jesus (Gou, magparamdam ka naman), had a gig at Merk's Place on Pasay Road. Anna Leah Sarabia is my long-time friend from her Filipinas Foundation years when she was a Makati office girl and still carried a de Leon surname. She has come a long, long way from that, and if she weren't too busy with feminist,  anti-tobacco and pro-RH advocacies, she has many memories to put down on paper. I'm wearing a sling because I broke my elbow in January that year. It healed miraculously through the intercession of poet-healer Mila Aguilar whose book of poems, Chronicle of a Life Foretold, was launched to much acclaim recently.

Anna Leah calls this picture "The Baguio Mafia," although I am hardly in the city up north these days, except for the recent semestral and Halloween break. Baboo Mondoñedo on my right is  a frequent collaborator as far as mounting watercolor shows goes. Her own collection of personal essays should be out by the new year. It is Laida's eldest daughter, Padma Perez, who's more my barkada. Laida though is an inspiration because not only is she Ms. Serenity herself, her slow-food and organic market advocacies in Baguio have taken deep roots apart from her support for weavers of handmade textiles. These beautiful textiles she wears with elegance.Her Cafe by the Ruins guava jam and tart are up there in my to-die-for list.

The is the Babeth-Gilda duet, taken by Anna Leah in 2010 at the old Kiss the Cook Gourmet location during a concert for a cause, featuring baritone Andrew Fernando (no relation to Gilda), flutist Christopher Oracion and pianist Mary Anne Espina, to benefit the Free Ericson Acosta Campaign. Ericson is good friend Pablo Tariman's son-in-law, a political prisoner in Calbayog City, Samar.

Taken at The Peninsula Manila when Australia-based Japanese ceramics artist Shoko Mafune visited last. Mariano Garchitorena, the dapper-looking tisoy, always hosts our reunion dinners and long lingering coffee chats afterwards. Always present on these occasions also is Noel Soler Cuizon, whose time is taken up teaching fine arts full-time at the Philippine Women's University.

El dia de Tats y Butones

      Baguio days in June tend to be overcast with hardly a hint of sun. So I guess our growing Butones was hopeful that morning for something special to happen. She had been spending a lot of time inside the house because we'd waken to wet and windy mornings that always ruined plans for a walk (actually, a sprint for her now that she's learning to run). So she'd stare out the window with the dusty screen that overlooks the common parking space, waiting for the older kids to come out and ride their bikes or for the neighbors' cars to warm up.

      But rain or shine, I had promised the man of the house that I'd treat him this once to Hill Station's Latin American luncheon buffet billed as "El Dia del Padre." He couldn't bear the idea of leaving Butones, her mamay Kimi and yaya Mackenzie home or being sent off to another restaurant so we could have this date to ourselves so he decided it would be his treat with yours truly adding my share to the bill. Who was I to contradict him?

      The little one got to wear her birthday outfit once more that was a tad loose in April, making her look like a manang than a year-old celebrator. It had a nice tulip hem and made her look like a young sophisticate like her Tita Ida who couldn't be with us.

      In late May, Padma Perez of Mt. Cloud Bookshop told us about the Hill's Father's Day plan, how she was helping the restaurant's dynamo, Mitos Benitez, with the promotions that involved writing the advertising copy in Spanglish. 

      I thought aloud to the man in the house that there may be a lot of meat involved since I was imagining the Lat-Am grasslands and cows and Argentinian corned beef. 

      I was secretly hoping for guacamole and chips and came out not disappointed at all. En punto, on the dot, I loaded my plate with tacos, the smooth guacamole dip, one or two oysters Rockefeller, the same amount of grilled barbecue potato skins, and right away I felt it was a sweet Sunday.

      While I enjoyed that first swing around the appetizer table, Kimi, who was cradling a sleeping Butones in her arms, put on a sour face and reminded me to think of her as hungry mother, too. Her gustatory discovery in the food lineup was the biscuit-like Chilean style sopaipillas that made this grandmother think of flattened Russian tea cookies. Well, we had it with everything from appetizers to dessert.

We couldn't pass up the Caesar salad, it being part of the Benitez family's restaurant tradition.

When Butones woke from her power nap, she had  an appetite for the spaghetti vongole and the not-too-sweet, just-right arroz con leche. She just had a spoonful of mashed potatoes and returned to the pasta and arroz. I could almost hear her humming her secret tune while eating.

Her grumpa, whom she calls Tats like the rest of us, was predictably partial to the oysters (the Caviteño in him) and frequently stopped by the carving station for lechon and the slow roast US beef which he preferred to eat with gravy than the chef's recommended chimichurri sauce.

Kimi was all praises for the vegetable moussaka and I for the paella Negra con aioli and made sure I had no black squid ink between my teeth. The arroz de leche mentioned earlier was the perfect foil to the cloyingly sweet flan de sevilla, a staple at the Hill's dessert list, and the tocino del cielo. The marquez de chocolate was served in shot glasses (where was the tequila?) with tiny plastic spades to scoop out the goodness. Two of those and I felt like shooting through the roof from the choco and sugar high. 

      In keeping with the Latin American-Mexican theme, there was a mariachi band, Los Bandidos (too amiable to look like bandits),  to serenade the diners with popular tunes like "Guatanamera," "Besame Mucho," "Quizas Quizas Quizas," all of which brought back memories of old chum-compadre Amadis Ma. Guerrero, now a choir singer going places.

       We went home burping all the way, craving for that most Spanish tradition: a long siesta. While there is universal consensus that every day is Mother's Day, our family insists that henceforth, every Sunday be El Dia de Padre. Entiendes?

Most photos taken by Babeth Lolarga

400 @ 400

Tuesday next week, Jan. 24 (my dad Enrique Lolarga Jr.'s 83rd birthday, if he were still around; he was a UST College of Medicine alumnus, batch '53), is "400 @ 400" day or 400 books, published by the University of Santo Tomas Publishing House, to be presented to the University on its 400th year.

Quite a feat Dr. Cristina "Jing" Pantoja Hidalgo, publishing director, Prof. Jack Wigley, her deputy, and their hard-working staff have accomplished since Prof. Hidalgo took over the university press.What I like about this coming event is the venue, a library, specifically the Miguel Benavides Library at the UST campus.

The library is thus described at its website: "The UST Miguel de Benavides Library is housed in a 6-storey building facing Dapitan Street. Seventeen sections and four branch libraries comprise the UST Library. The collection of each section / branch varies according to courses offered by the University. The Library Staff is headed by the Prefect of Libraries and the Chief Librarian. There are 27 professionally trained librarians, 24 support staff and 80 student assistants."

There'll be space to move around, and if my cold and cough (an allergy, don't worry; nothing viral or catching) isn't licked by the 24th, I'll be there in an inconspicuous corner with a box of Kleenex and a jug of water, waiting for friends and family to come by and have a copy or two signed.

This whole enterprise of putting out a book of selected essays is a story of a challenge met. The challenge came from Jing who asked if I was interested in gathering my little Facebook notes and other essays into a book. Not only was I interested, I hired myself an able research assistant, UP Diliman geography graduate Marye Panganiban, who could accompany me to the Lopez Memorial Museum and Library and the Philippine Daily Inquirer library to look for "old words," as my editor Chato Garcellano would put it. Marye, with my daughter Kimi's help, encoded these essays and reports, a whole section of travel pieces from the time when Chato sent me all over the country on assignment.

The OC (obsessive-compulsive) streak of my niece Marga Susi was harnessed as she arranged the essays in sequence to facilitate the layout artist's job. Several times the flash drive I submitted to Jing was corrupted until one afternoon, Kimi and I sat down cleaning my files one at a time till I was able to send a clean USB to UST.

I heeded Gilda Cordero Fernando's advice not to get a more established writer to do the introduction. She had a funny experience when she had a first book of short fiction introduced by someone else. It seemed the intro was unrelated to the contents and it was generally ignored.

She suggested that I get writer friends familiar with my works to submit blurbs, and that's what Chato, Marj Evasco, Cris Yabes, Gou de Jesus and Anna Leah Sarabia did. They didn't need to be sent samples of my work to go over. They were familiar enough with the stuff I've managed to get published over the decades (that really dates me) and turned in their short blurbs by text or email after a day's notice. Aren't women friends wonderful?

One day in late June, Jing texted, "Your book is out!" Excitedly, I made arrangements to pick up my 10 complimentary copies at her home (henceforth, delivered to the blurb writers). I think this was as close as I could get to UST. Throughout the process, everything was done online. The series of USB I would send through a personal messenger or drop off at Jing's house on my way to or from school where I taught (when the Community of Learners was still at its New Manila location).

The proofs were sent to my mother's house in Pasig, and I went over them during a weekend in Baguio. My husband of 27 years cursorily read them, then declared in an offended tone that he would boycott my launch if his name was not moved from the acknowledgment to the dedicatory page (hmmm, this detail should go into an autobiography because I find it funny; my reaction was "Kailangan pa bang i-spelling 'yan?" but the correction was made for fear of losing a prized patron).

I arranged a book reception in my adopted city of Baguio at that bookshop-turned-literary salon Mt. Cloud. Padma and I worked on my modest working woman's budget so we could feed the visitors and book buyers with Hill Station's delicious turrones and flowing coffee. All 26 or 28 books I brought up were sold out that afternoon in July. The others were sold by Nina Araos at her Kitsch the Cook Boutique, at the Alabama art fair in Cubao and at Libreria at Cubao Expo.

My kumare Winnie Velasquez, fellow Paulinian, made a special trip from Marikina to Baguio to be with us, while my grandchild Butones made her public debut as my guest of honor. She wasn't featured on the dedication page; she wasn't born yet when the making of the book was in progress.

Last December, as the Christmas rush got started, Philippine PEN sponsored an authors' talk that had me sharing a panel with Manong Ed Maranan, Mookie Katigbak and Dean Francis Alfar. I arrived early at National Bestseller at Robinson's Galleria to chat with the salesladies.

The store manager said my book was doing well. My heart skipped two beats as I began to think of royalties and imagine Catholic and Emancipated on the NBS bestsellers list for non-fiction.

I asked, "How many copies has your branch sold?"

She answered, "Sampu po, ma'am. Marami na iyon."

That's why I like writing and getting published. It has a way of keeping you humble. I'm sure Dad would've agreed.

Photo of blogger's book courtesy of Rudi Tabora

On Cloud 9

In business terms, Mt. Cloud, the bookshop inside the century-old Casa Vallejo in Baguio City, is meeting its monthly overhead.

"And then some," adds one of the partners, Padmapani L. Perez (the other half of the partnership is her kid sister Feliz). While the profit is not yet spectacular, the older Perez happily reports that "the Cloud is keeping afloat. We sometimes have concerned customers (new ones as well as regulars) asking, 'How is the business?', or, more bluntly, 'Are you making enough to survive?' When we say yes, we're okay, we're not drowning and we're not in the red, they look relieved and happy, and some exclaim, 'Good!' If anything, this tells us that people want us to stick around."

She is aware that in an era of e-books and big bookstore chains, "the general expectation seems to be that a small independent bookshop in Baguio is doomed to failure. Every day we are open is evidence to the contrary. We aim to satisfy discerning clients who grasp and appreciate what Mt. Cloud is all about: a love of books, above all. This may not be quantifiable in business terms. It may be naïve, but we believe this sets us apart from others in the book-selling business in the country. This is not to say that other booksellers don't love their books. We let our respect for the written word suffuse the way we do things in Mt. Cloud--from the selections we make and the events we hold to the look and feel of the shop."

The eight-month-old Mt. Cloud, and by extension, the year-old Hill Station and its space, including the walls and corridors, have become a hip, happening place in the laidback city where it is common for residents to feel some seasonal affective disorder set in when the monsoon rains pour. That's when they'd rather stay indoors and read and read under layers of clothing.

Perez says, "We've only been open eight months. We feel everything we do is new. We often make decisions on the fly, so it's hard to speak of innovation. We keep the Cloud bustling with warm bodies by lifting the written word off the page and bringing it to life in the shop. We invite authors to talk about and sign their books in our intimate space. Authors we've had the pleasure of hosting have remarked at the depth and quality of the dialogues they hold with the Baguio community members that meet them."

The Cloud (fond name for the shop) organizes art exhibits that complement the books it carries. Perez says, "Ah, this is an innovation! It wasn't part of our original plans, but local artist Chris Yñiguez approached to ask if he could use our hallway as an exhibit space. That got us started. Since then, we've been approached by other Baguio artists, and we've actively invited people to hold exhibits in our hallway or on our walls, among the bookshelves."

The authors whom the Cloud invites to speak were part of the plan from the very start. Perez, who is an anthropologist, poet and essayist, says, "We knew that it wouldn't work to sit and wait for books to be picked off our shelves so we have made Mt. Cloud dynamic, a place that aspires to the life of the mind and approaches it in a respectful, sometimes playful, way. In the poetry slams, aspiring and established poets come together in thrilling battles of spoken word. We've had two so far and intend to make the slam a regular event."

Mt. Cloud has reached out to the local writers, making it known to them that their works have a special place in the shop's heart. Perez says, "We carry books published independently by writers from around the Cordilleras, and we promote their work every chance we get."

Feliz, who teaches at the Laren Alternative School in Makati City while her Manang Padma is based in Baguio, takes charge of acquisitions. She is in touch with publishing houses in Metro Manila and ensures the Cloud has a steady stream of new titles.

The older Perez handles the shop's daily operations. She used to teach graduate classes at the University of the Philippines Baguio, organize field school for Laren, do anthropological research, and freelance writing.

She confesses, "I've resigned from the post of Delusional Superwoman Aspirant. I've narrowed down my occupations to motherhood and the shop. It's like having a baby. I still do the occasional, small writing assignment. To keep sane, I bike. Someday, I'd like to teach again."

Mt. Cloud has a Facebook page and Twitter account to keep people abreast on events there and the arrival of new stock (books or stationery items). In the not-too-distant future, it will launch an online store.

First published in the summer 2011 issue of Prime magazine. Photos by Laarni Ilagan

Mandala in the City

Padma Perez wrote a more spirited diatribe in defense of public art espoused by Kawayan de Guia, Kigao Rosimo et al when the powers-that-be not too recently decided to break up the sidewalk mosaics that the visual artists and some members of the community had laid out on Session Road.

Yesterday I took a slow walk from Chuntug Street down to Burnham Park, noting the piles of trash on a corner of Lake Drive. The weeklong rains suddenly stopped that same morning, and it felt different to stride normally unlike the past days when I gingerly avoided cataracts of water and mossy spots. Upwards my feet took me to Calderon Street; the same newspaper and magazine stands were still there, but I had stopped being their suki after I decided years ago that I would just monitor the local mags at the UP Baguio Library.

I made a right on Session Road and noted how wobbly some of the new “cobblestones” on the sidewalk were. Did someone try to save City Hall a few pesos by not laying on the cement glue in thick enough proportions?

At the entrance of La Azotea building I paused before a circular remnant of the mosaic. I have passed that way a number of times since the new sidewalks were put in place. This time I took a good look at the mosaic and marveled at the artists’ stubbornness in retaining it and not letting it be jack-hammered to bits. Talk of a sacred circle in the middle of downtown. Photo by BABETH