MANILA, Philippines - If you are 40 and above, I am quite sure that, like me, memories of summer during your younger days would include school breaks spent up in Baguio City. My first encounter with Baguio began when, as an independent and impressionable seven-year-old Brownie, I joined a Girl Scouts camping of much older girls at the Teachers’ Camp. It was love at first sight! That first trip imprinted on my mind a heavenly place with cool pleasant weather, jaw-dropping views, and beautiful flowers and pine trees everywhere. This was followed by sojourns with my family, the different choirs I joined, high school classmates and even college friends at UP Diliman. I loved Baguio so much I would have gone there even with my enemies (hahaha!). And, as the Summer Capital of the Philippines, it was customary that we, Manileños, would spend at least three days in Baguio during the summer vacation.
As I embarked on a career as a solo singer, I even accepted singing engagements at weddings held in Baguio even when my talent fee was just enough to pay for the expenses of the trip. As long as I was properly booked at a good hotel, I did not mind singing for a song (hahaha!) just to experience again the cool weather and the scent of pine trees in this City of Pines; gobble up raisin bread at the Baguio Country Club in the mornings; partake of the famous steak at the Lone Star in Camp John Hay at night; get my yearly dose of visits to the Mines View Park (to throw coins at eagerly awaiting kids only to close my eyes as they precariously scrambled to catch); watch cultural shows at the Botanical Garden; have photos
When I married my boyfriend Paul, who happened to be the youngest son of then Supreme Court Justice Emilio Gancayco, my visits became even more frequent (I was addicted to Baguio by then). Having the privilege to use the Supreme Court cottages, the once-a-year became three-to-four-times-a-year trips. I watched my eldest son Jon and my nieces Tootsie and Thrina and nephews Joao and Jig grow up boating and cycling in Burnham Park, horseback riding at the Wright Park and skating and playing mini-golf at Camp John Hay.
Holy Week meant Visita Iglesia at the imposing Baguio Cathedral, with its remarkable twin square bell towers with pyramidal roofs, and other quaint churches in Baguio; and Lenten penitence (especially for a couch potato like me) included climbing the more than 250 steps to reach the Lourdes Grotto shrine.
As a young immature couple then, Paul and I would fight at the pettiest of reasons, only to kiss and make up over a bottle of beer for him and a carafe of margarita for me at the Songs Music Lounge, then dance the alcohol away at the then very popular Spirits Disco. We recalled ghost stories by hearthside fire before heading off to sleep. In the mornings we would walk hand in hand along Session Road to have breakfast either at the Star Café or the Sizzling Plate (that offered sumptuous budget meals), then have lunch at the Rose Bowl Chinese resto or Shakey’s and dinner at Mario’s. Frequent visits to the PMA campus (which must have somehow influenced my son who at one point in his life insisted on becoming a soldier) made me hold PMA graduates in high regard.
Then, the killer earthquake with 7.4 intensity in 1990 came and Baguio City crumbled. Well-known hotels like the Terraces, the Pines and the Nevada were destroyed. About 3,000 people died and the ghost stories became more haunting. Instantly, our summer agenda did not include Baguio and my second child Mika spent summers in Boracay, Palawan, Bohol or Ilocos. For several years I felt sadness and a deep longing for my beloved but ruined Baguio.
Recently, my romance with Baguio was rekindled. Tootsie, now all grown up and independent herself, had decided to tie the knot with her beau Bem Caharian at the Baguio Cathedral, where I was one of the ninangs. I was ecstatic as we passed breezily the recently re-engineered NLEX and the new SCTEX.
As our SUV started climbing up the winding Kennon Road, my heart began to palpitate faster in anticipation. Memories flooded my mind as I craned my neck to take a peek at the most marvelous welcoming sights every visiting Baguio tourist would enjoy. Although Baguio seemed at first to burst at its seams with the plentiful visitors during the Christmas break that included no less than the First Family, I felt like I was coming home.
Like before, Baguio meant strong bonding time with my family (which on this occasion included my 86-year-old mom, my two sisters Mareyca and Margot and their families, and my 87-year-old father-in-law), and friends (my UP Concert Chorus ka-batch, balikbayan and now Vallejo County official Rozza Aliga, PhD., and her family).
Through the kindness of no less than the city’s supervising tourism operations officer, Benedicto Alhambra, our group was reacquainted with Baguio, which has astonishingly risen like a Phoenix from the proverbial ashes. Ben was very proud to inform us that 2009 is Baguio’s centenary as a city and there are so many activities lined up in celebration of 100 years of cityhood.
He shared that they are pushing with the tourism program, Magandang Baguio, and expressed that the city administration wants to bring back the cultural traits of caring and honesty, where like the Baguio of the early times, residents could leave their houses unlocked, even open, and visitors could leave a bag in a park bench and not lose it to petty thieves. Ben explained that unlike in earlier times when Baguio had the most number of visitors during summer, it is now the Panagbenga Flower Festival in February that draws the most number of tourists (Wow!).
Very efficient tour guide Nino Pelwigan who personally accompanied us to some main tourist attractions explained how Baguio City is also known as the Education Center of the North. It has eight quality universities and colleges and 37 vocational schools accounting for a very highly educated populace. (Ahhh, if only I could turn back the hands of time, and had less strict parents, of course, I would have taken up college in Baguio, I swear!) PMA was a must-see for the kids where I silently expressed a fervent wish that all our Filipino soldiers stick only to their ideals even (nay, specially) during these trying times. This was followed by a quick visit to the Easter School of Weaving where one could watch the craftsmen and women actually weaving cloth.
For our nightlife, as per recommendation of my good friend from UPCC, now Baguio-based tenor soloist John Glenn Gaerlan, we went to the famous Nevada Square where one had 10 establishments to choose from — one offering an acoustic group, another a band, a dance place, or simply somewhere to eat or drink. We decided to drink Weng-weng while being entertained by an acoustic duo.
On the wedding day itself, I panicked when I came to grips with the reality that my favorite hairdresser Nancy and makeup artist Sir George were not with me. “No problem,” says John Glenn, “we also have the best beauty artists here.” And, lo and behold, SM Baguio housed a David’s Salon and Ricky Reyes just like any SM branch in Manila.
During the wedding, I could not help but cry as my beautiful niece Tootsie (who grew up in Manila, studied in New York and had traveled all around the world) walked down the aisle in the most architecturally striking church in my beloved city, to unite in holy matrimony with the man she loves. Three days after, on Dec. 31, as midnight brought the year to a close and 2009 began with a grand fireworks display that was even more spectacular as seen from the roofdeck of the Baguio Country Club, I stole a glimpse at Tootsie and Bem, and shed another tear — of happiness, as I see them start a new life of memories together, as husband and wife, in one of the most enchanting places on earth, the City of Romance — Baguio City.