The book was over two years in the making. It started out as simply a catalog for the Bahay Tsinoy museum at Kaisa, then of course people got ambitious and thought it would make a fine coffee table book, what with the treasure trove of rare photographs in the Kaisa collection, only a small number of which are on display at the museum. Then there were a lot of other musts that found their way into the book, until it became a rather monumental tome of well over 200 pages, with seven chapters covering Chinese presence in the Philippine islands from pre-history to the present.
The wealth of information and knowledge contained in the book is quite amazing, and the research and scholarship behind it phenomenal. Drawing from ancient sources like Ming and Song annals, old records, maps and prints, as well as contemporary materials like photographs, newspaper reports, theses, books and first person accounts, the book tells the riveting story of immigrants from southern China–mostly peasants, many of them illiterate but hardworking and determined to make a new life in a new land–whose fortunes (and misfortunes) were intricately woven into the fabric of the Philippine nation’s history. Confined to ghettos, massacred, restricted in the occupations they could pursue, the Chinese immigrants nevertheless proved resilient and sank roots deep into Philippine soil.
The book also tells the story of the long-running relationship between the two countries, China and the Philippines. For example, the story of the journey to the Chinese imperial court undertaken by the sultans of Sulu in the 15th century recorded in the pages of the Ming annals is completed by the account of the return visit by descendants–18th and 19th generation–of the sultan to their lao jia or ancient home in Sulu last June.
The book is not all history though. It also contains valuable insights–trivia, if you will, although the information is hardly trivial– such as (and this is my all-time favorite) the etymology of the term pancit. There is a section on loan words–Chinese terms that have entered into the Filipino vocabulary, and vice versa, like susi and opisin and bote and makina. It all just goes to confirm how closely linked, how inextricably connected, is the Tsinoy in Philippine life.
I went into it the only way I know how–one page at a time, starting from the beginning. And, honestly, once I started reading I could hardly put it down. Perhaps because it was my story–the story of my family, my people–I found myself totally involved in the saga unfolding on the pages before me. Very often I had to backtrack, to re-read paragraphs and pages with an editor’s eye–looking for mistakes, inconsistencies, typos–rather than simply reading it as any ordinary reader would.
The manuscript would undergo many revisions, especially when the lay-out was done and the photographs and captions put in. We devised an efficient system whereby I would pick up the manuscript from the Kaisa office after work–the guards at Kaisa have become my very good friends–go over it when I got home, then leave the manuscript with the guard in the lobby of my condo for Tessy to pick up early–usually before seven–the next morning. I think now that the book is done, the guards at both buildings will miss us terribly.
A lot of friends and supporters took time from Sunday activities–some came from weddings, others from family get-togethers–to join us. Local Government Secretary Angelo Reyes, a great friend of the Tsinoy community, came, as did PNP chief General Arturo Lomibao; they presented a sartorial contrast, Sec. Angie hip in casual shirt and jeans and Gen. Art dapper in a navy blazer. US Embassy Counselor Scott Bellard, who speaks and reads Chinese wonderfully, dropped in on his way to a party. Hybrid rice czar Henry Lim was telling where to buy his rice, "harrassed" by the ebullient John Kaw of the Chinese Federation. Head of Chinese Studies at the Ateneo Ellen Palanca and her husband Albert, who is my cousin, came too.Elizabeth Gokongwei, also a cousin–I know, I know, we’re all related somehow–came with Robina, but we missed Liza, who very kindly recommended her printer who gave us a big discount.
Gene de los Reyes together with Jimmy Hidalgo and Israel Maducdoc of the GBR Museum in Cavite were honored guests, for not only did they let us reprint many valuable photographs, they came bearing gifts–a dozen Song Dynasty funerary urns and vessels (so beautiful your knees will go weak), a 10-volume set of the Kasaysayan encyclopedia and a huge photo of the Binondo Church taken in the 1900s. Mestizo though he may look, I’m all for baptizing Gene honorary Tsinoy.
I wish I was a better social commentator so I could recall the other luminaries who were there–and there were many–but I must apologize for being such a dismal socialite. The truth is, I could hardly believe that the book was actually done–despite a slight last minute glitch with some of the Chinese characters–the whole afternoon was a bit of a blur.
But no matter. I am so looking forward to these evenings after work when I can curl up in bed with a nice cup of oolong tea and slowly read through this wonderful book, page after page, from the beginning, as if I’m reading it for the first time. And this time around, I’m not going to look for typos.