I’m glad it worked out at the last minute, that I managed to join buddies and fellow poet-writers Jimmy Abad, Susan Lara, Marj Evasco and Danny Reyes on a two-day jaunt in Dumaguete last week.
The sole purpose was to be with our “mom,” Edith L. Tiempo, National Artist for Literature, who was turning 90 on Earth Day, which was last Wednesday. But the 40 hours or so of touching base in Dumaguete served up many fresh reattachments and future memories.
We all stayed at Coco Grande hotel, which has taken over the old Habitat lodging place right by the campus of Silliman University. I’m pleased to say that it has become eminently livable, with an attractive facade and interiors, well-laid-out front lobby, restaurant and bar, and a smoking corner area by a mini-atrium — all served by free Wi-Fi. The rooms are very spacious and equipped with a TV and a ref that serves as a mini-bar.
Best of all, the rates are rather modest. I understand that the place is owned and run by the same fellow, an Australian, who operates Coco Grove beach resort in Siquijor, which Jimmy and I had the pleasure to visit for a day with our respective families way back when our kids were still adolescents. Another beach place, on Apo Island, is part of the expanding hotel chain in the area.
On our first night we had dinner at Don Atilano’s Steakhouse, in Residencia Al Mar hotel by the boulevard, at its Japanese-theme corner called Wakagi where smoking was allowed, much to the chagrin of the ladies in our company.
But they’re our little sisters, so they can’t do much against a pair of bro bullies. Besides, again the Wi-Fi benefits worked to our advantage, as Marj was soon giving Jimmy Facebook 101 lessons while Susan busied herself updating what she had started as her Facebook of Edith L. Tiempo, and showing Danny all the messages of felicitations from young writer-“Fans.”
Of course I kept my end of the Internet bargain by logging on to www.nba.com and reveling in the positive commentary on the obvious choice of MVP for the 2008-09 season, and how Lebron James’ Cleveland Cavaliers may only have the Los Angeles Lakers for a final stumbling block on their way to a first crown.
Two of Dumaguete’s resident poet-writers joined us for dessert. Dr. Cesar Ruiz Aquino a.k.a. “Sawi,” and Ian Casocot who runs what must be the most popular Pinoy literature site, pushed the company up to a magical seven, all of whom hunched over three laptops for a group photo we could send our far-away sibling in Iowa City, Rowena Torrevillas Tiempo. She’s still hoping she can join the panel for this May’s creative writing workshop, the 48th edition of the longest-running National Writers Workshop now back in harness with Silliman.
Had to call it an early night, as there was still much work to do in the hotel room, till well past midnight. Set the CP alarm for 8 a.m. when I was assured by SMS by another imminent balik-Dumaguete, Juaniyo Arcellana, that BTV would be showing the Cavs-Pistons Game 2 live. If not, had a SmartBro anyway for live streaming, or at least some radio coverage apart from the Boxscore-in-progress.
But at 6 a.m. of Earth Day I was suddenly up for coffee, and subsequent breakfast when Jim also rose half-an-hour later. His portage from dreams was due to an Arcadian cycle, while mine, on that day, must have owed itself to keening expectation over a basketball game. Which we watched, albeit it turned out to be a ho-hum affair, with the Cavs dominating by as many as 29 points before coasting along and holding back an over-achieving Pistons bench.
We collected Sawi by tricycle from his place on Locsin St., halfway between Foundation University and the acclaimed painter Kitty Taniguchi’s Cristina’s Art Gallery. It was getting close to noon, so my idea was to hit a beach with packed lunch, and perhaps have an afternoon siesta before the big hour of celebration with Mom Edith.
We have this routine down pat. One whole Tuyok (spit-roasted) chicken for P160 at that main street eatery, plus two orders of kinilaw na malasugui and sticks of barbecued chorizo, steamed rice and bottles of mineral water — and we were off, again by tricycle, to Silliman Farm Beach which we hadn’t visited for sometime.
It turned out to be quite tidy, with kids gamboling in the mellow surf while makeshift tables extended nearly all the way to the airport runway that claimed the sea. The sky was overcast, so there wasn’t much call to hit the blue water. It was enough to enjoy the sea breeze, lunch, conversation, and a power nap on a bamboo-strip bench under a shady talisay.
At four p.m. we reunited with our original company and piled into the hotel coaster that would ferry us to the Montemar hilltop residence in Sibulan — usually a 20-minute ride, but nearly double that this time owing to many road repairs within the City of Gentle People. Besides Sawi and Ian, we had two more for burgeoning literary company: the poets Myrna Peña-Reyes Sweet, a Dumas-Goethe orig, and Anthony Tan who’s vacationing from Iligan for half the summer.
On this Earth Day of 2009, Mom Edith turned 90. We will all remember that, and the hours we spent with her for a family party.
She sat on a sofa in her capacious sala, welcoming us with a beaming smile, and accepting our modest gifts with earnest gushing. For some moments she became almost weepy when it was Myrna’s turn to hug her. She whispered several times to Myrna: “You have been so good to me.”
The Quizo family of musicians — Mom, Pop, a daughter and two sons, with one of them a 13-year-old already playing the alto sax quite admirably — serenaded her beautifully, with Visayan love songs and spirituals in English. Their voices were angelic.
Also present were Dr. Noel Villalba, S.U. Pastor and a long-time friend of the Tiempos, also an older brother of the young writer Joseph who’s in Bohol if memory serves me right, and S.U.’s Moses “Mong” Atega, a cultural events organizer and customary emcee non pareil.
Bringing up the rear, so to speak, just as the sun came down, was Mom Edith’s very own consigliore, Atty. Ernesto Superal Yee, an author twice over with both poetry and fiction. He came with the van that brought in the tanglad-stuffed lechon. Intriguingly missing that evening was another of Dumaguete’s formidable roster of writers, the master fictionist Bobby Flores Villasis.
Thanks to SmartBro, Susan managed to log on with her laptop and guide Mom through her Facebook felicitations and vintage photos. “That’s Dad Ed and me by the bridge in Iowa,” Edith would point out.
I read her text greetings from the painter Mav Rufino who was in Boracay. Mom recalled relations other than that Mav had once read Edith’s poetry in public. She remembered the US-based poet Angela Narcisio Torres, too, who had sent in an e-mail greeting and some photos taken when she paid a visit the previous summer.
Helping Mom host the affair were her son Maldon or “Donny,” his Significant Other Dixie, and Mom’s niece Helen. The pre-prandial prayer was led by Danny, with the company linking hands in a circle. Then the feast was on.
And for an inimitable coda, there was Mom at the head of the table, singing remembered arias from musicales as well as naughty Visayan ditties, and getting videotaped with a cell-phone camera for more Facebook material.
And that was Earth Day for us in Dumaguete in the summer of 2009, honoring and celebrating Mother Earth in more ways than one. May there be more, a legion of votive days when the fellowship of the good word is strengthened all the more.