Three hours at the Manila Hotel

Rain fell hard last Wednes-day, reminding people of Ondoy. I left the house to pick up my grandniece on Dela Rosa Street. We were supposed to meet at M Cafe but I told her I would pick her up at the office or she would get soaked.  We made our way to Roxas Boulevard through Buendia almost blind in the torrent that surrounded us. We will get there, I told her, before the floods come but I don’t know how we will get home.

We arrived at the Manila Hotel at exactly 3:03 p.m., passed through security clearance, which was very tastefully handled with lined baskets for your bags.  We stood at the concierge desk to claim our tickets.  I looked around at the lobby.  It still looked pretty much the same. The ceiling was recently re-varnished glossier.  The carpet looked like it had been changed.  But otherwise it still looked pretty much the same.  I’m talking only of the lobby.

When was that? It was 1977.  Thirty-three years ago.  I was 33 then.  It was the first week of October, I think, and it was the formal inauguration of the hotel.  I was there to assist my what? He was not my husband though we acted like I was his wife and we had a son, who was five years old then.   We were having trouble with our relationship, which was not a marriage though it sure felt like one that was going down the drain. He made me step out into the public light and help him with the hotel’s inauguration.  I think he was writing my death sentence.

The President of the Philippines was Ferdinand Marcos. His wife, Imelda, was on a trip then.  They scheduled the opening of the hotel while she was gone and he, my significant other, had me stand on the foyer awaiting the President’s arrival.  I stood with a sampaguita garland that I would put around his neck.  For me that inauguration was the formal beginning of the end of my relationship. The informal beginning of the end started a long time before then though not too many people knew about it.  When things are falling apart between two people it is not always visible.  Or maybe it is but people just don’t want to see it.

“How do you feel?  Is it the return of a dream or a nightmare?” My niece, who was caught by the flood, texted. I did not respond because in truth I felt nothing.

It was an experience maybe, but I had been here many times before and it had left me untouched. I saw some pieces I did not like but I was indifferent to them. Different ownership, different taste. That’s life.

But it was raining harder still and the event I was going to former US President Bill Clinton’s speech was held in the tent. They made us walk in the rain, supplying us with some umbrellas. Puddles formed on the cement walkway.

The red carpet was soaked with water.  It was inconvenient. Why did they not let people enter through the Champagne Room, I wondered.  That would have been much more convenient. No, that was cordoned off for important people only and not all-important people, mind you, only those pre-selected folk with political titles.

The most interesting person I met, and that includes Bill Clinton who I did not meet, was Mrs. Amelita “Ming” Ramos, who came in alone, was met by one of the executives of GMA, the network, and who decided to sit on the armchair of a sofa where I was seated. Initially, I thought she looked familiar.  I greeted her and introduced myself, asked if she still smoked.  I remember writing about her smoking many years ago, when I was a smoker, too. We had a bit of enjoyable banter over stopping smoking, interrupted by people who came by to say hello, and finally by the entry of her husband, President Fidel Ramos. Finally, he said let’s go and marched off.  “He will not forget his golf clubs, but he always forgets me,” Ming said, smiling. She is a wonderful, charming lady, no airs.  She is just herself.  He really should reset his list of unforgettables and make her first.

We walked in the rain, found our seats, listened to the talks moderated by Maria Reza.  The theme of Bill Clinton’s talk was “Embracing Our Common Humanity,” a rather awkward title, I thought, because what else do we have in common but our humanity?  We are all humans.

Gina Lopez talked first about the environment, specifically her Pasig River project and Chit Juan talked about her environmental projects. Both of them were quite good but was this the right forum?

A few years ago I was invited to Al Gore’s speech on Global Warming at the Yuchengco Theatre on Ayala Avenue.  For me, that was the best even so far. It was very simple. Al Yuchengco welcomed guests, thanked them for coming. An invisible voice introduced Al Gore, who walked onstage and did his fabulous presentation with dramatic slides. After his talk, the guests were invited to cocktails, introduced to Al Gore and people talked to him.  That for me was an outstanding event with single focus on Al Gore, who is a global personality. People want to meet him, to have a few seconds for connection.  No open forum.  No moderator.  No musical front act.  No front act of other speeches.  Only the personality who, by the way, costs a lot of money to come here and talk.

The second visit of Al Gore was something of a disaster. There was a musical front act, which detracted (and ruined, in my opinion) attention.  Afterwards there was Cheche Lazaro who moderated an open forum.  Usually an open forum gets questions from the audience. Generally, these questions tend to be shallow so she asked him her own questions ending with why he had separated from his wife.  Al Gore simply said, politely, that he would not answer that question. Then there was a fabulous cocktail party where everyone was invited but Al Gore wasn’t present so that was not good either.

Now, Bill Clinton, who I must say, was quite a boring speaker.  Maybe he had jet lag, I don’t know, but he didn’t come close to Al Gore or Tony Blair, I was told. But he talked. In fact, he said the Philippines didn’t have to worry about much so long as we concentrated on offering our people better education and worked on our economy. In other words, everything’s cool.

No drinks, no cocktails, no getting to know Bill Clinton. And this event was held in a hotel.

The best part of my more than three-hour visit was my chat with Mrs. Ramos.  That made it all more human and more fun.

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