My own influencers

Coming home means revisiting beloved and familiar places. It also means encountering new ones and in the process connecting the essence of those people that make such places exceptional, inspiring and cherished.

In an age when engagements happen instantaneously, when predilections for people, things and places are typically expressed virtually, I often wonder if such interactions happen with genuine admiration, gratitude or affection.

In this era when influencers abound, I deliberate on the value and depth of virtual experiences. For how long do they last? How do they meaningfully inspire creativity? Encourage empathy? Nudge one to action or think critically? I thought about all these after recent encounters with what I may call my own influencers in places I count among my favorites.

My daughter and I were at the right place at the right time. A brief meeting with our National Artist, the multi-talented Benedicto Reyes Cabrera or BenCab as he is widely known, had certainly had an unforgettable effect on us. When I meet people of stature, the older ones especially, I am reminded of what the great Ernest Hemingway wrote in his classic Pulitzer Prize winning novel, The Old Man and the Sea: “Everything about him was old except his eyes and they were the same color as the sea and were cheerful and undefeated.”

Reliving that moment when I timidly asked Mr. Cabrera if I could possibly have my photo taken with him, he kindly smiled and softly asked, “Selfie?” I said no, but my daughter would snap a photo then she would join us for a selfie. Taking inspiration from Hemingway, I’d say, BenCab doesn’t look his age. Everything about him radiates kindness and humility. His bespectacled eyes were cheerful too, though they may not be the color of his exuberant art works, but perhaps the tint of one of his vast bulol collections.

The manner by which BenCab engages with strangers like us, who happened to be relishing a day at his eponymous museum in Baguio, reflects the wisdom, greatness and inscrutable dignity of an artist par excellence. Over the years he had used his art in ways so influential and enigmatic, some of them had evolved to become iconic images (as Sabel is) and powerful political statements.

Right after our precious photo op with the man I consider a living national treasure, he was swarmed by a group of young visitors. BenCab greeted them with the same warmth and graciousness we felt, obliging to groufies. We were finishing the last bites of our heavenly meal at Café Sabel – garlic steak nuggets for my daughter and linguini with semi sun-dried tomatoes paired with garden fresh salad with strawberry dressing for me – when we spotted BenCab quietly slipping out of the cafe as the afternoon rain poured. He briefly stopped beneath the shade of a lush tree that’s still adorned with conspicuous pink star ornaments. We surmised that the pink star decors would hang in the tree for long, unbowed as the artist who created them. BenCab is one of my influencers, I told my daughter. And she beamed with approval.

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He doesn’t speak much about his craft, but his elegantly fashioned earthenware collections speak volumes of Augusto “Ugu” Bigyan, the self-effacing master potter whose last name, when translated to our own language, evocatively speaks of his character. To give is perhaps more than a mantra for Ugu. It’s what he breathes, his way of life.

A cousin-friend introduced Ugu to me and our first encounter at his place in Tiaong, Quezon was like a meeting of old friends. In true provincial fashion, we were warmly welcomed to his sprawling compound, which also houses a restaurant, a showroom, Balinese-inspired open cottages, a well-manicured garden replete with native and exotic flora, a workshop, kilns and all.

Ugu’s bigheartedness is mostly evident in the way he takes time to entertain guests and clients inquiring about his artisanal ceramics and the hearty portions of well-curated food served at his restaurant. The 10-course meal, with pako salad, kulawo and a variety of other dishes, is served with a pitcher full of buko juice and ginumis for dessert. My friend, as guests do, had to reserve our spot for the culinary delight two days ahead as walk-in dining is not encouraged.

Generosity undeniably streams through Ugu’s DNA, so much so that every year on his birth month, clients who buy his ware are entitled to a percentage discount equivalent to his age. I deduced that if this is the tradition, if and when Ugu turns 100, a customer need not pay for his pottery but would instead have them for free! I bought some salad bowls, teacups, saucers and a distinctively inventive rendition of Mother of Guadalupe mounted on repurposed wood from a guava tree with twigs accenting the image. They’re all delicately packed and wrapped for shipping, ready to be given as gifts.

While it was Ugu’s birth month and I was grateful for the concessions that came with the celebration, I was more moved by the backstory, of how he had over the years been shaped to become the master potter he is now. I am inspired by how Ugu now charitably trains a new generation of potters, starting from his relatives, to pursue the same passion and to create their own signature designs. In ways admirable, he is beyond measure, undeniably another influencer.

A New York Times article reports about how the idea of an “influencer” has developed over time. Social media influencers are the most popular ones now because “they can sway their followers’ thoughts and behaviors.” I think of how the word “sway” connotes tentativeness. If I were to qualify my own influencers, they’re the ones that leave an indelible impression in our beliefs, behaviors, aspirations and life as a whole. Such is the case of BenCab, the National Artist, and Ugu Bigyan, the master potter.