Laughing in order not to cry

I had no clue. There I was sitting beside Marissa Sanchez in a busy coffee shop confidently conducting an interview. I had been fat once in my life, so I prided myself on being sensitive about asking "fat" questions. But the truth was I didn’t have a clue.

It isn’t her weight that bothers the thirtysomething singer. In fact, she unflinchingly reveals that she became a comedienne simply because she was not what society would call sexy.

This job of interviewing is unpredictable, to say the least. Imagine catching a stranger in the middle of an active, sometimes painful, life and trying to get a synopsis in under two hours. There is always a tidbit or two that surprises. In this instance, my jaw drops and I hold my breath.

"I was a product of rape," Marissa gets to the heart of her insecurities (the best comedians are, after all, the most insecure people). Recovered from my initial shock, I review her with new-found wisdom. Still, the appealing face (more attractive in person than on TV or in pictures) and voluptuous body (certainly irresistible to those who prefer more substantial women) provide no clues to Marissa’s past. Instead, one imagines a privileged upbringing of doting parents and endless laughter with some naughty friends. The truth, as always, is far from sugar-coated. No stretch of the imagination could turn her life into a sitcom. Soap opera might instead mine this tear-jerking material.

"I had an unhappy childhood. My mother was really hard on me. She often scolded and beat me. I had no friends since she kept moving me from one school to another to escape my real father. Until I was 20, I thought my siblings and I had the same father. I only learned about the rape after I confronted her with a story I heard from someone else. After one of my shows, a guy claiming to be my real father’s son (by another woman) approached me to ask why I wasn’t using my real surname. In short, my mother was forced to admit the mystery behind my birth. That’s when I understood why I always felt like she hated me. I was a reminder of my father since I look so much like him," she explains.

Marissa’s mother was making a name for herself as a lounge singer when she met Marissa’s father. He was a married admirer who pursued her despite her lack of interest. Out of desperation, he drugged her one night and the unthinkable happened. What was worse than the rape was the fact that it led to a pregnancy. The singing career ended even before it could take off.

Unbeknownst to Marissa, her father had pledged undying love to her mother. He was ready to leave his family and start a new one with them. But the heart had hardened. The proposal was declined many times over. Instead, her mother sold sampaguita garlands and sweepstakes for a living. They survived on her meager income until little Marissa fell seriously ill.

"By then, my mom had another married admirer. He offered to shoulder my hospital expenses. Kapit sa patalim na ang mother ko noon. She accepted. So they started a relationship. He’s the father of my other siblings. For a long time, I thought he was my father too. But I was never close to him since he fought a lot with my mother," she recalls.

At age 11, Marissa started singing in clubs for a living. She would go to school in the daytime and perform at night. There was a point when dancing was a big part of her life. Marissa was the type to earn scholarships because of her skill in ballet. A serious leg injury cut short whatever plans she had as a dancer. Singing became her fallback.

"If it weren’t for my mom I wouldn’t be a singer today. Actually, in the beginning, I was tone deaf. She was the only one who believed I could sing," Marissa admits.

Her singing became their bread and butter. She did gigs in Japan (with a band); musicales for Repertory Philippines and Villa Teatro (appearing in Evita, Ibong Adarna, El Filibusterismo and Noli Me Tangere) and eventually solo stints in various venues. As the family’s sole breadwinner (she was sending her brothers and sisters to school), there was a lot of pressure. The gist of it was that every meal depended on Marissa’s ability to sing. The family made do with a one-room apartment. Those were tough times.

Comedy came into the picture when Marissa gained weight. In a field where a woman’s figure is very much a part of the act, she had no choice but be funny. "I was never skinny. But I can confidently say I was a head-turner. I had so many admirers. I have always been tabain but sexy. Before, I had the body of Vanessa del Bianco. But, when I gradually gained weight, I noticed that there were fewer people watching me.

"This was around the time that I became close to some comedians. Robert M. was the one who advised me to establish rapport with my audience. He said that since I was fat, the only thing I could really do was to communicate with my audience. Being around comedians brought me out of my shell. Slowly, I began speaking their language. My best friends are comedians such as Arpie who hasn’t had a break yet. I’m also close to Jose of Eat Bulaga, a floor director who now appears on camera. He had a big influence on my style as a comedian. These are some of the people who injected comedy into my psyche. I consider these friends a blessing."

Performing at Hyatt’s Calesa Bar changed the course of her life. The first obstacle was getting hired. It was difficult breaking the mold of sultry singers. Marissa was told her only chance was if she lost weight. Eventually, there was an opening for a singer-comedienne. It was one of her shows at Calesa Bar in the mid-90s that impressed Jullie Yap Daza. All it took was a rave review–and the limelight fell on Marissa Sanchez.

TV also opened doors for her. She was cast as the comic foil in Valiente. Actually, the teledrama’s director nearly let her go because she was too pretty to be a maid. Fortunately, she did not register well on video–proving that not being telegenic has some advantages. Later, she co-hosted Family Kuwarta o Kahon with Pepe Pimentel. Much later, she began doing MTB on abs-cbn.

"I owe a lot to TV. People started noticing me because of my exposure on TV. But what frustrates me about the medium is that I don’t earn enough. Doing live shows, especially now that people recognize me, is more lucrative for me. That’s why I spend most of my time doing corporate shows. I’m practically performing every day of the week," she explains.

On June 14, Marissa is sharing the stage with no less than Side A at Le Pavilion. The concert is a dream come true. Much of her success has been quite unbelievable. However, life has remained a roller coaster ride.

Still a sore spot is her relationship with her parents. Marissa has come to accept and understand her mother’s bitter-sweet treatment of her. They have become closer after much effort. As for her father, much was said and done in the six months they were together. He died shortly after they were reunited.

There is hardly anything unsatisfactory about her career. Hard work has paid off. The private life is a totally different story. Marissa candidly supplies a detail or two about her turbulent romances. There was a married man she met while performing abroad. Then, a few years ago, she met another man she thought would be her life partner. They were married only to have their vows annulled because he turned out to be another woman’s legal husband. At present, there is 27-year-old Ian Nava (cousin of singer Roselle Nava) with whom Marissa admits having a relationship. Like her past loves, this one has its ups and downs.

"We’ve been seeing a counselor. She says our problem really stems from the fact that I need to heal from my past. Ian simply has to understand that. Actually, I’m a very moody person. There are days when I’m so jolly. But there are also days like this when I’m feeling low. Ian and I have been going out for a year now.

"It’s the first time any man has treated me this well. Before, I used to feel that men only wanted me for my money or for my stature as Marissa Sanchez. Ian is different. That’s why it hurts a lot when I’m teased about being a cradle snatcher. Actually, he was the one who pursued me. I kept dissuading him. You know, if this doesn’t work, I’m giving up on men," she declares with finality.

Given a few minutes (while she gets up from her chair for a trip to the rest room) alone with Ian, I realize what Marissa means about him being different. The two met and fell in love on the road. Marissa was a performer in the concert series (around Europe) in which Ian was line producing. He swears he didn’t even know who she was until they came face to face.

"Totoong tao siya," says Ian. "She’s very transparent. Hindi siya mayabang. Kung hindi mo siya kilala, akalain mong mayabang si Marissa. Pero ang totoo, humble siya. Ayaw niya yung nagbubuhat siya ng sarili niyang bangko. Mas okay sa kanya kung ibang tao ang pumuri sa kanya. Pagdalawa lang kami, ako pa ang magpapatawa sa kanya. Ganun yata talaga ang mga komedyante. Serious sila in person."

Another thing that characterizes the private Marissa is her generosity. As she tries to explain this desire to share, she suddenly realizes that her past has again come a-haunting. "Ian often scolds me for giving too much. That’s probably because when I was a little girl, I was deprived. Whenever I would see my ninang, I would silently hope she would give me money. Now that I have money of my own, I enjoy sharing it with people, especially kids. I didn’t enjoy my childhood. But in my own way, I’m making sure other kids will have a better childhood."

An hour of Marissa’s time is not enough to uncover all the other reasons why laughter is her great escape. When asked directly how she copes with heartaches, she confesses that her strength comes from a different source. "When there is no hope left, I rely on the Lord. He has seen me through a lot of bad times. There are moments when I really feel defeated. But I always tell myself that I shouldn’t give up."