"My sister came all the way from Vancouver," Wilma told Funfare. We don’t see each other often. Sometimes, years pass before we do. She has been in Canada for 20 years. Her reflections on the show touched me deeply not only because they came from her but because of the deep insights she gave of the festivities and the images she saw."
Read on:
Passing through San Francisco, I became a fly on the wall to one culture-altering event.
I watched people who create the polished magic I see on television in the process of unveiling a masterpiece.
My dad would have called this a promotion to sell a product. This time, it was a television station and the shows they canned.
So of course there were stars, bosses and crews and sometimes who’s who gets confused with "which is which" but that didn’t matter to my fly vision.
If asked, I responded but most of the time, I just soaked it in. Who could have thought that the stunning beauty at my breakfast table was the wife of that gorgeous man? She must be – his face just seemed to transform to the gentlest being as he approached her, greeted her with a caress one knew only old lovers exchanged.
I didn’t bother with names, and histories and roles but as the 36 hours went, I kept pockets of time to think about home, where I’m going, the friends I am meeting and these seemingly regular events to them that aren’t usual in my domain.
Some of the artists I knew because I have met them in another lifetime, when I was younger. Others were stars so bright they seem to glow even without a spotlight.
The treat about "fly walling", is, you see before the make-up, the back-up, the dress-up or dress-down, the directors still screaming cues and blocking points.
In an instant you see them in a third floor room lunching on sautéed jackfruit in coconut milk, menudo and pansit palabok, reminding me their basic needs are the same as ours. You hear the chatter, the banter of the production crew, checking loose ends, spiels, entry points, who’s going to cue who, what the prompters would read, detailing each sound byte, each spotlight, each move and station to be precisely sure every detail is perfect, from the rondalla in the lobby to the video clips on the giant screens, to making sure each one is in sync to the unique rhythm of each director, and you feel you entered the stomach of the beast.
When will the tension ebb or has it even crested?
Rehearsing was everywhere – in the parking lot, backrooms, closed stage, on the floor. The day was filled with talents of all sorts promoting one thing – home. The buzzwords were Pinoy, Kapuso. (Pinoy – a word triggering a long message that you are a Filipino away from home. Kapuso – a whole culture close to one’s heart and soul.)
I don’t know how many times my eyes welled with tears – when a local group sang the national anthem when I viewed the short video clips in the lobby; when the dancers oozed their sexuality, screaming, can you feel that baby!; when the jokes of old comedians are reborn in young actors; when a song just seems to head straight for your heart.
It wasn’t a feeling of sadness or longing that engulfed me, it was a feeling of belonging. Just as I saw that private connect that reminded me of the love of my life that morning at the breakfast table, or the listening to directions the artists did so attentively that reminded me of the children in my classroom, or the sincere, delicious, intensely gratifying way a voice surrounded you, the word was one – Pinoy. It is a word with a flood of messages of home but not of a place; of identity but not singularity; of love without the confinements of desire.
When showtime came, like a sumptuous feast, the artists, the music and the voices dished tickling doses that transformed you into a beautiful state. There were songs tweaking memories; dances, though named after food like spaghetti or cho-co-latte, were really a feast for the eyes; jokes delivered outstandingly; all constantly offering an invitation to feel home.
One actor was particularly inspiring to watch. He oozed with sensibility, comedy, simplicity, softness and sincerity that made me feel proud to be a Filipino, no matter what corner of the world I may inhabit.
The show was Pinoy, Kapuso.
And what takes me back there is the enchantment of watching GMA Pinoy TV.