Monday, October 24, 2011

Pinoy West End Star Comes Home to Do Us Proud

As Fantine in Les Miserables
 Originally published in Pinoycentric in April 2008

She is to the West End what Lea Salonga is to Broadway. Theater actor and singer Joanna Ampil was 17 when she was whisked off to do Kim in the London production of Miss Saigon.  Over the years, she’s made a name for herself, playing Mimi in Rent, Eponine and Fantine in Les Miserables. She was even handpicked by British composer Sir Andrew Lloyd Webber to do Mary Magdalene in Jesus Christ Superstar.

But for two months, Pinoy audiences who have only heard her her sing in the 1995 recording of Miss Saigon will finally get to see her perform live as Maria in the Stages-produced West Side Story, opposite Christian Bautista as Tony. It’s the first time that she’s performing for a Pinoy audience, and yes, she admits to still getting the jitters on opening night.

In this interview, Joanna talks about her experiences in London, what she misses the most about the Philippines, how she looks forward to experiencing Pinoy-style Christmas, and what she had to give up to give back to her kababayan back home.

It’s your first time to do a musical in the Philippines. What made you decide to do it?
It’s always been my passion to be in West Side Story. It’s my favorite musical, and I saw it in London a few years ago and the part really appealed to me.

What did you have to give up in London to come home to the Philippines to do this show?

I have an agent in London, and I asked him not to put me up for anything in the next six months because I really want to concentrate on this, and I think it’s really important to do this for my fellow Filipinos. I feel complete to be able to do something for them. It’s important that I’m here and not distracted with anything.

What are the differences between West End and Philippine theater?
We have longer hours over there. Here its approximately 4 to 5 hours. I know we’re not as rich as West End or Broadway, so we have to use whatever resources are available to us here, and I think it’s a good thing because it makes us more creative and imaginative.

What are the good things you’ve seen in West End theater that you’d like to be replicated in Philippine productions?
I guess it’s the professionalism–being on time all the time. The Filipino way is being late a lot, so I try to come early to show people they have to be early. So far everyone’s been good. I couldn’t complain. Of course, there have been instances when people were late and you don’t know who’s gonna turn up or what time.  Hopefully people learn to communicate, especially because there’s a lot of texting going on in the country.

You’re a veteran of several opening nights. Do you still get the jitters when you open a show? 
Absolutely. I do a lot of breathing and I pray. And I do certain exercises and meditate.

Since you’re doing many shows, how do you take care of your voice?
It’s a skill you have to develop because in the West End we do eight shows a week. Here, for West Side Story, we do only weekends, and less pa for me because there’s Karylle who’ll also be doing the show. I make sure I don’t go out very late. I drink a lot of water. Everything that a singer does. You just have to be very  disciplined if singing is your passion.

What is your advice to Pinoys who want to make it in musical theater?
Persevere and stick to your passion and your dreams. And never ever take anything personally.

Many Filipinos who have performed abroad say the Filipino audience is very hard to please. What can you say about this?
That actually makes us perfectionists and I think am that way too. I am pretty hard to please, and I totally understand why.

How do you keep yourself busy in between shows?
I try to keep myself busy by training and exercising. It’s important that you keep your stamina when you’re doing shows. I did kickboxing in London for a few months before coming over. I know it’s not very ladlylike, but it’s what I wanted to do. Also some dancing.

What music do you dig?
Pop and R&B. My favorite performers are musical theater performers, but before I left the Philippines, I was very much influenced by the likes of Mariah Carey and Whitney Houston.

What music player do you own and what are your top 10 favorite songs?
I have an 80G iPod. My top 10 . . . I love Puff Daddy’s “Come with Me” because the beat is a bit fast and I can exercise to it. I also have a lot of Mariah  Carey and Whitney Houston songs in it. I also like Chaka Khan. There’s a lot of ’80s songs in there.

You’ve been away for 16 years. What do you miss the most about the Philippines?
The food and the hospitality of Pinoys. And people wanting to pamper you all the time. I love that.

Thursday, October 13, 2011

Conquering the World, One Design at a Time

Originally published in Pinoycentric on April 16, 2007

Kenneth Cobonpue needs no introduction to people who know furniture and design. The Cebu-born furniture designer went to Pratt Institute in New York and apprenticed in Florence, Italy, and Munich, Germany, for woodworking, upholstery, and cabinet making. Aside from winning the 2005 Design for Asia Award for his Lolah collection, Kenneth's craftsmanship has been acknowledged in the International Contemporary Furniture Fair, the Singapore International Furniture Design Competition, IIDA/Hospitality Design Product Competition, and the High Point Show. He is also a member of Movement 8, a select group of Filipino designers.

Kenneth is also known for his A-list clientele, including Hollywood actor Brad Pitt, who bought one of his Voyage beds, and Warner Brothers, which commissioned him to furnish a casino set for the movie Ocean's Thirteen.

In this Innerview, Kenneth talks about the design process, growing up with a mother who is also a furniture designer, and his aversion to feng shu.

Pinoycentric: You once said, in an interview with Generation Rice, that you grew up with the smell of lacquer, wood, and varnish, so we can probably say you were “destined" to be a furniture designer because your mother was also into furniture design. But had you had not chosen this path, what would you be doing now? Was there a conscious effort to pursue other inclinations?
 Kenneth Cobonpue: I think every kid harbors a secret desire to blaze a trail completely different from his parents and still make them proud in the end. As a teenager, I was very fascinated with plays and musicals. It’s amazing how you can transport people in a couple of hours to another world under stage lights. I found out that the world of design is like that no matter what field you are. With my furniture, I see people react and connect to them in ways I never imagined possible. And that’s what makes my work worthwhile.

How does the design process go for you? Do you have "a-ha!" moments that you can share with us? How long does it take to come up with a design (from design to prototype)?

The design process can take a month to a year to come into fruition. And even then, it never stops. I still find myself tweaking my original designs 10 years down the line. We usually start with the material and play with it like children. We approach everything three-dimensionally and we build models from the early stages of the design process. That’s why my designs have a very sculptural feel about them. My team and I go through “a-ha” moments, only to be doused with water along the way when we start thinking about cost, manufacturability, and stability. But we always pull through in the end.

A furniture consultant once said that a furniture designer can never get too attached to his designs. Do you agree with this?

On the contrary, every design of mine is like a special child that enters into the world complete with its share of birth pains. After I baptize them with names, I never agree to have them renamed or redesigned by other people. I tell people who want to change my designs to go and make babies on their own.

Do you have one particular design that you loathe selling? Can you tell us the story behind it?
I have these chairs that look like your generic Ikea design wrapped in leather. They sell so well, but I don’t want to even have anything to do with it.

With Brad Pitt's having bought one of your designs, the entire Philippines suddenly took notice of you. How did you feel about this?
Brad Pitt has five of my designs in his collection, which he bought over three years. The press caught on to it only last year. It’s kind of ironic that you need a celebrity to validate your work in most parts of the world. But that’s just the way it is.

How has your increasingly popularity and the fact that you're from Cebu City helped the local furniture industry to establish a global niche?
With increasing competition from China and our other Asian neighbors, I like to think that I showed fellow Filipinos an alternative way to win in the global market by not thinking about quantity but quality. Design is the last competitive advantage that the Philippines has when it comes to manufacturing objects.

Most of your designs can be afforded by only the rich, which may have some people thinking of you as too elitist. Is there a conscious effort to break away from this mold? Are you coming up with less-expensive and affordable designs too? Do you also envision every Filipino family having a Cobonpue design at home?
Every designer dreams of creating something that everyone can afford, including me. It’s just not possible right now because my factory cannot produce goods of superior quality in high volumes. Designing things for every Filipino home is high up on my list of things to do before I expire.

Do you also also take feng shui into account when you're designing? Do you apply it in your home? How do you balance design theory and feng shui?
I think feng shui as we know it today should be a natural and subconscious extension of one’s way of life. Either you live your life in a peaceful and contented way or you don’t. No amount of furniture switching and mirrors can change your life. I loathe at the thought of hiring a feng shui expert to re-arrange your life according to invisible forces in the universe that you know nothing of.

Can you give us three "fast tips" on designing a home? What should one remember when arranging furniture? What colors should one stay away from? What colors should one gravitate toward?
Design is a lot like life. You have to get your values and priorities in place. When designing a home, you need to know what the dominant or focal point of the whole scheme is. It’s the plot in a story, the refrain in a song, the long neck of a giraffe. Every other element in the home should visually support that dominant piece. That’s why museums are painted in appropriate colors to highlight the pieces on display, places of worship are quiet so you can listen to your Creator speak, and drum rolls precede smashing cymbals.

You have made the world take notice of the Filipino designer with your creations. What do you think aspiring designers should do to achieve world-class standards like you have?
In order to be noticed by the world, you have to offer something unique. The world has enough of everything. You can start by taking inspiration from others or by even borrowing. But you have to look inside you and transform it into something personal and unique until you can call it your own. In my case, it was the combination of natural materials, organic modern design, and innovative craftsmanship.

The PinoyCentric tagline goes: "All things brown and beautiful," pertaining, of course, to the Pinoy and the Philippines. What makes Kenneth Cobonpue distinctly "brown" (not literally, of course) and "beautiful"?
My designs are usually brown because of the materials I use. (Laughter) Seriously, everything about me is Filipino from the materials I use, the craftsmen who make them, and the inspirations my designs come from. I think the most beautiful thing about my adventure is that Filipino design culture has finally become global.

Saturday, October 1, 2011

Finding Healing in Her Mother’s Land

Originally published in Pinoycentric on April 28, 2009
 
Filipino-American musical theater actor Stephanie Reese’s journey to find her roots in the Philippines occurred three years ago, at a “time of great despair.”

“I gave up my singing and acting career because the man that I had fallen in love with died in a car accident. It turned my life upside down,” relates the Seattle-born soprano.

From being an ambitious and successful actor and singer—she played Kim in the European production of Miss Saigon, and Esmeralda in The Hunchback of Notre Dame and Tuptim in The King and I, both in West End—Stephanie became withdrawn and was ready to give up on life.

And then she met Gawad Kalinga founder Tony Meloto, who invited her to come to the Philippines. It was the first time Stephanie would ever set foot on her mother’s homeland.

She would find the healing she was looking for in the Philippines. Through Gawad Kalinga, a movement that raises money to help build homes for poor Filipino families, Stephanie met people who had also gone through difficult times in their lives. The immersion opened her eyes and inspired her to go back to her music and revive her theater career.

“Tito Tony [made me realize that] we always need a higher purpose in everything that we do. I felt that here in the Philippines, and I am forever indebted to this country,” Stephanie says.

Finding her roots
Stephanie’s homecoming was also a chance to know more about her Filipino roots.

Raised in the US by an American-Japanese father and a Filipino-Chinese mother from Camalig, Albay, Stephanie says, “I didn’t know how it was to be Filipino until I came to the country. I am of mixed blood and heritage, but after coming here, I feel I am a hundred percent Filipino.”

She has since taken great pride in representing the Philippines in her performances. “I’d like to break stereotypes of what people think and believe of Filipinos. There’s more to Philippine culture than just karaoke singing. I’m so proud to be able to represent our culture,” she says.

This Pinoy’s got talent
Now back on her feet, Stephanie is making a name for herself in the US through her unique singing style. Dubbed “The Standing Ovation Queen,” she’s wowed fans and industry insiders with her diverse repertoire of Broadway, opera, ballads, pop, kundiman, and even hip-hop. What’s more impressive is that she can switch from one genre to another without missing a beat!

Her recent concert in Beverly Hill’s Crustacean Restaurant, where she sang with Patti La Belle and Natalie Cole, has “put [her] on the Hollywood map.” Her rendition of the aria “Nessun Dorma” had the audience on its feet and impressed La Belle, who called this five-foot-one-inch singer “the little girl with the big voice.”

After conquering European musical theater and Hollywood, Stephanie is coming home to share her gift with her countrymen in a first solo concert, “I Am Stephanie Reese,” at the Teatrino in Greenhills on May 4.

“I really want to create a name for myself [here in the Philippines," she admits. "I want to share my music from the north to the south, to give back to the people, [because] when I come here I always feel a sense of healing. My grandparents and my mother are from here, and so I would really like to honor my grandparents and my heritage by embracing this culture.”

We got to talk to Stephanie Reese during her meeting with the Philippine press last week, and this Q&A is recreated from a one-on-one interview and her answers during the press conference.

PinoyCentric: How was it like growing up?
My mom raised me to be [very Filipino]. Everyone asks me, “Are you sure you were born here?” because they say I’m more Filipino than American, and I take that as a big compliment. I’m very conservative.


Did your mother ever make an effort to introduce you to the Pinoy culture?
She tried her best, but we were living with my dad’s family who were American, and it was hard for her until my grandparents came. So that was her effort: in bringing them to live with us.

My [lola] was my inspiration for my love of music. From the time she lived with us, she’d sing songs to me every day. She really planted that seed of the love of music in me. My first stage, I’d like to think, was my own living room.

Do you have a favorite Pinoy dish?
I love Bicol express and laing!

What do you consider the landmark of your career?
Originally I would have said Miss Saigon, but as I began as a solo artist, I’d like to say it’s my one-woman show, The Journey. [Editor: Stephanie writes, produces, and directs this autobiographical show.]

What’s "The Journey" all about?
It’s about my life–my life story told through music. It’s similar to what I’ll be doing in Teatrino, but because I’ve lived my life since I wrote it, I had to rewrite it to include my journey in the Philippines, so it’s gone now from this autobiographical story to [the Teatrino concert] “I am Stephanie Reese.”

There aren’t a lot of singers who write their own songs. What inspires your songwriting?
Life–people that I meet and whatever I experience in life is what I make comments on. When I get a little [idea] in my head, I just follow that inspiration.


How did you find your way to Miss Saigon in Germany? Did you have to know German?
I auditioned in New York. No [laughter], I didn’t know German. They just cast me and taught me phonetically.

How long did it take you to learn German?
They don’t give you much time—I had eight hours a day of phonetics. I had about a few weeks before I could go onstage.

What advice can you give to those who are starting out?
I would tell them to keep singing and to know that it is the biggest gift you can share with others. Know that when you’re given a gift from God, you have to take care of it. Your goal shouldn’t be to be famous or to make money but to share.

Sing anywhere and everywhere you can. Don’t wait for other people to give you opportunities. Create your own opportunities.

Monday, December 27, 2010

Mom's Pork and Beans

There are only three dishes that my mom has mastered in her 60 years, and one of them is her own version of pork and beans.

I say this now, not with disappointment. Prior to an early retirement prompted by her dimming vision, my mom had been a schoolteacher and spent eight hours teaching grade school and tutored Chinese scions after work, so she rarely had time to cook. Lucky for her, she had a patient husband who didn’t mind doing the cooking.

Because a meal cooked by my mom was a rare treat, we always looked forward to the special occasions when she would whip up her special dishes: chopsuey, which she perfected during our years in Baguio City; and pork and beans and mongo, two one-pot meals she prepared with the patience of Job, as they required all-morning cooking over charcoal.

Sundays were Mom’s turn in the kitchen. I remember her getting up at 6 a.m., and my dad would drive her to the nearest market to get fresh produce and meat for a special Sunday lunch.

Mom’s secret ingredient in her pork and beans was pata or pork leg. I would wake up salivating to the aroma of pork leg simmering over charcoal. Mom wasn’t one to rush her specialty, which made it all the more delicious.

We’d leave for church and come home hurriedly, looking forward to Sunday’s piece de resistance: a pot of cooked pork and beans, waiting to be seasoned with salt and tomato sauce. The meat–simmering over charcoal for four hours–was soft, cooked just right, its fiber flaking off, its fatty part chewy. If that wasn’t heaven on earth, I don’t know what is.

House guests who have been treated to Mom’s pork and beans leave with a lot more respect for this one-pot wonder, their prior acquaintance of which was limited to the canned Hunt’s kind. (Even today, you can never make me eat a can of pork and beans, having grown up with my mom’s homecooked version.)

One American missionary we invited over for dinner once said my mom’s pork and beans tasted the same way his grandmother’s version did. He had been away from home for quite too long and was missing his favorite Western-style pork and beans.

In college, when I lived away from home for the first time, it was Mom’s pork and beans that I missed the most. During the rare times that I came home, wherever my nomadic family happened to be,  Mom never failed to prepare her pork and beans. I’ve tasted my maternal aunt’s version of the pork and beans, but always, what remains my biggest favorite is my mom’s, maybe because hers is cooked with a lot of love and patience for a child who, though grown up, will forever be her baby at heart.

Monday, December 20, 2010

Nikki Alfar: Writing with Courage

Photo credit: Dean Alfar
Originally published in Pinoycentric.com on June 26, 2007

“It took a long while before I got enough confidence to admit that I’m not Butch Dalisay, but that’s okay.”

For someone who once did not have enough courage to write, fictionist Nikki Go Alfar has certainly covered considerable mileage, judging from the awards she’s received.

In 2001, the comic book Isaw Atbp, which she edited, earned a National Book Award. Her short story for children, “Menggay’s Magical Chicken,” won third prize in the Don Carlos Palanca Memorial Awards for Literature in 2005. A one-act play, “Life After Beth,” also won last year.

Nikki was named among the “13 emerging women writers” by the Ateneo Library of Women’s Writings, which cited her work as editor of Mango Jam, a girl power comic series.

At six, Nikki already knew that she was going to be a writer. “I started writing Nancy Drew-type stories, then I moved on to the Sweet Dreams type. I used to get in trouble a lot in school because my notebooks were full of stories but had no notes,” she relates.

“Pretty much from the start, I was really into this whole speculative fiction bent. One of the first novels I read was Stephen King’s Cujo and later The Lord of the Rings by J.R.R. Tolkien,” Nikki remembers.

Her parents were not as encouraging, however. “My mom brainwashed me, ‘If you’re going to be a writer, you will be poor!’ and I didn’t want to be poor. I’m kikay [stylish], so I can’t be poor!” she laughs.

Enrolling at UP Diliman’s creative writing program didn’t provide much encouragement either.

“You know how it is,” she explains, “in grade school and high school, you think you’re very brilliant—and then you get to college and you realize: hey, there are other more brilliant people and you’re just okay!”

While she put her writing ambitions aside, Nikki continued to participate in a writers’ group, where she would meet playwright Dean Alfar, who would later become her husband.

“After college, I did a lot of other things—I was a flight attendant at Air Philippines and later a bank manager—because I wasn’t brave. You see, when you start in writing, it’s not a lot of money, and of course, since I had just come out of college, I wanted money!”

(Her husband Dean, who had won three Palancas before they got married, also went on a writing hiatus for the same reason: “When I got married, I decided that I should prioritize my real life [because] there’s a certain sense of duty, of obligation. You have two mouths to feed, and honestly, writing doesn’t pay the bills,” he said in a previous Innerview with PinoyCentric.)

Getting the groove back
It was in Hong Kong, where the Alfar couple lived briefly, that Nikki slowly eased her way back into writing, first for magazines and later for comics catering to an adult audience (“I wrote porn!” she exclaims, “but somewhere in the course of the last couple of years, I seem to have lost the ability”).

Sometime after moving back to Manila, where Nikki gave birth to their daughter Sage, now five, the couple started writing fiction again.

Nikki reflects: “The first year that I joined, we both lost, and I felt, oh my God, I’m not just not good, I’m bad luck!”

It was her second entry to Palanca—“Menggay’s Magical Chicken”—that got Nikki her first award in 2005.

“By that time, I had been married to Dean for many years, and he’d been winning a lot, and I was used to going to the award ceremony and receiving things for him, so when I got an envelope, I assumed it was for Dean. I opened his, and said, Yay, he won!” (This was for Salamanca, which won the grand prize for novel that year.)

The other envelope was for Nikki. “I honestly thought when I was reading it, siguro naman they’re not gonna write to tell me I suck, di ba? ‘Dear Nikki, you suck, don’t join again.’”

Discipline
Because of her speculative fiction leanings, Nikki’s stories are mostly a blend of the modern and folklore or mythology. In the short story “Heritage,” for example, the protagonist makes a life-changing decision with some guidance from Lola Basyang.

“I have been told that I tend to be funny, although I don’t try to be so. I guess my sarcasm and cynicism come out in my writing, as well as my mad obsession with folklore,” she assesses.

“I wouldn’t say it’s unique because my idols—Gilda Cordero-Fernando and Jing Hidalgo—have delved into that. Maybe mine is a freakier version!”

These days, Nikki works mainly from home, which gives her more time with Sage and also allows her privileges that a corporate setup does not offer—cigarettes, for example.

“I can’t think without my nicotine! If I don’t smoke, I write two or three sentences and then nothing,” she says. Years back when she was doing full-time copywriting work, she’d go out of the building and, after two puffs, would run back to the office and write.

There also has to be absolute silence. “I have to not have people talking when I’m writing. I can’t even listen to music with words. It has to be instrumental or else I’ll follow the words.”

Sometimes when she’s stuck in a story that doesn’t seem to be going anywhere, she shifts gears. “I usually move on to a different story, or I play an online game until I can get back to what I’m writing. My husband has a theory that there’s no such thing as a writer’s block: All it takes is discipline.”

Nikki is certainly braver now than she was years ago. “It took a long while before I got enough confidence to admit that I’m not Butch Dalisay, but that’s okay.”

To talent and courage, add discipline, Nikki says. “Having studied creative writing in college, I believe one cannot teach a person how to write, but you can teach someone how not to write. The only way to write is to read and write.”

Monday, December 13, 2010

Taste of Home in Hong Kong

I asked a Hong Kong-based colleague to recommend a Filipino restaurant in the city, and she gave me instructions on how to get to Mang Ambo’s Filipino Restaurant on Jaffe Road. It’s hard not to miss this hole-in-the-wall. If you’re coming from the Hong Kong Exhibition Centre (or the Wanchai pier), the canteen is to your right.

The legendary Mang Ambo was not there, although I caught a glimpse of his photo from a newspaper clipping posted by the cashier. This turo-turo attracts Pinoys from all walks: from the domestic helpers to the musicians; the occasional Pinoys on business trips to the fashionable Zara-wearing bureau editors.

Having come from cocktails, I was full, but I decided, what’s wrong with a stick of pork barbecue? But the cashier offered, “Mas mahal po, ma’am, pag isang ulam lang.” I had no choice but to get their set meal, composed of a cup of rice and two viand choices. Tonight, there was kare-kare, dinuguan, mechado, bistek, and pork barbecue, among others. I decided on bistek and pork barbecue. Plus a can of Coke, the evening’s damages amounted to HK$31, or about PhP180+.

While Mang Ambo’s would certainly not merit high marks in terms of ambience, I’m certain they’ll earn brownie points for offering a taste of home away from home.

Mang Ambo’s Filipino Restaurant
120 Jaffe Road
Wanchai, Hong Kong
+852 2143 6877No Tags

Your Friendly Pinoy Grocer in Hong Kong

If you’re a Pinoy living in Wanchai on Hong Kong island, you probably buy phone credits for your Philippine SIM at Tindahan ni Mang Ambo (or “Mang Ambo’s Store”) on Lockhart Road. In fact, we bet you probably get your stash of instant pancit canton, Ligo sardines, balut and itlog na pula (salted egg), Rexona, Maxi-Peel, and RDL at the same grocery.

I passed by Tindahan tonight on my way back to the hotel from work, after having a quick dinner at Mang Ambo’s Filipino Restaurant, a hole-in-the-wall that serves authentic Pinoy food. Both establishments are owned by the elusive Mang Ambo (who was not present at his carinderia the night we dropped by).

The woman tending the place, Marissa, who has been living in Hong Kong for eight years, says the grocery has suppliers who bring in Pinoy food and personal care items regularly. And that’s not all! Would you believe the shop actually has two Internet-enabled computers, equipped with webcam? Marissa says a half-hour of Internet use costs HK$15, or PhP90. There are even DVDs of Pinoy movies!

Tindahan ni Mang Ambo
147 Lockhart Road
Wanchai, Hong Kong

Monday, December 6, 2010

Pinoy Expat: Blogging the Gospel

Originally published in Pinoycentric on June 13, 2008
 
Almost everyone and his pet has a blog these days. Teachers blog, and so do celebrities like artist Jim Paredes and his daughter Ala. Even international star Lea Salonga has one. So who’s to say this Pinoy monk can’t too?

Cenobite monk Dom Lawrence has been blogging for four years now from the confines of an abbey in the desert of New Mexico, and he finds it a very influential vehicle, not to mention it’s free.

“It has helped me a lot in doing my part in bringing the Word of the Lord to His faithful without having to actually leave the portals of my monastery. By blogging, I am able to send a clear message of the Gospel to God’s people and give them a chance to meditate and reflect on it on their own time and convenience,” says this Benedictine monk who hails from Naga City.

A teacher for 20 years at the San Beda College Grade School, Dom Lawrence joined the religious community Monastery of Christ in the Desert in 2002. When he got to New Mexico, he had romantic notions of “flowing habits, candlelit cloisters, awesome plainchants of an ancient Gregorian music echoing among dimly lit Gothic arches in the cloister corridors inside a monastery.”

The reality was a world away: At the monastery, aside from the eight-times-a-day community prayers, his days were spent doing laundry for community brothers, and washing dishes, scrubbing floors and toilets.

And then he discovered blogging in 2003. “I had been keeping a daily journal of my thoughts, aspirations, and reflections on the kind of life I live inside the monastery, and I thought, why not publish them online? My family and friends in the Philippines will surely love to read and follow it on the Net.”

Discipline, structure in monastic life
In his blog, Tales from the Cenobite, Dom Lawrence shares with an international audience stories about life inside the monastery. Here, everything is done in schedule, he says. “If a monk doesn’t show up for prayers or work, someone will fetch him from his room, and it will be embarrassing.”

Lunch or the main meal of the day is done in silence, Dom Lawrence reports. There is a monk who sits by the pulpit and reads Bible passages or book excerpts about the lives of saints. Prayers are chanted before and after meals.

Lunch consists of fish, chicken, or turkey, with fresh or cooked vegetables, with lima beans and vegetable salad. No beef or pork is served. “When the cook is Vietnamese, we have stir-fried vegetables. Kung ako ang cook, gisado din,” he says. The monks usually have cheese and whole-wheat bread, which they bake themselves, or whatever is left over from the midday meal.

Watching television is discouraged, so the once-a-month DVD marathon (occurring every first Thursday at 7:10 p.m.) is something monks look forward to.

“We’re allowed to watch any movie as long as it’s not violent. No torrid kissing scenes and sexual scenes. No nude scenes or breast exposure. Even shots of men and women in underwear and swimming trunks are not allowed. That’s how conservative our community is,” says Dom Lawrence.

Despite living separate lives from the rest of the world, the monks stay updated on current events with free online subscriptions to leading US newspapers.

“Importante ang Internet connection sa buong cloister,” says this monk. “The whole community panics when there’s no Internet!” Almost every monk has a laptop. Dom Lawrence usually checks his e-mails any time between 7 a.m. and 7:10 p.m. every day, when the connection is available.

There’s a firewall that filters all inappropriate and malicious Websites, but Dom Lawrence gets to update his Friendster, Myspace, and Youtube accounts.

Keeping in touch
Away from the Philippines, Dom Lawrence follows local events through Websites of major TV stations and newspapers. “Updated ako sa lahat ng kaganapan, mula sa national news down to the provincial news, pati na rin sa celebrity news,” he says.

Like most Pinoys in the world’s “texting” capital, this monk also has a mobile phone, but he uses it only on errands like shopping for the community, bringing a brother to the doctor or the airport, or buying supplies for the monastery’s gift shop, which he runs.

Despite the rigidity of monastic life, it’s exciting, he says, because people in the outside world find it unusual.

In this Q&A with former Pinoycentric intern Marge Gonzales, this monk reveals more about his Internet activities (they do Friendster too!), his devotion not just to his mission but to his blog (and how time management helps a lot), and that a monk is human, after all.

Pinoycentric: When did you start blogging?
Dom Lawrence: I started bloggingin the early part of 2003 in Livejournal.com and later shifted to Blogger.com

You mentioned that you have a very tight schedule. How do you manage to blog?
I’ve given up some of my free private moments so I can update my blog regularly. Our daily prayers have 10- to 15-minute intervals, so instead of going to the kitchen, I go up to my room and blog. It’s really time management. When my posts are rather lengthy, I make the draft during the evening after compline [last prayers for the day] just before I sleep at 9 p.m. I save it in Word and the next day, shortly after the 7:10 a.m. Mass, I go online and simply copy and paste the draft I wrote the previous night.

Being a cloistered monk, you’re isolated from people outside the abbey. Doesn’t the Internet goes against the idea of isolation?

I still am cloistered and physically isolated from people because although they read my blog, they do not get to see me in person or hear my voice, hence the idea of being cloistered is still intact.

How does it feel when people read your site, leave comments, or even become your online friends?
It makes me feel connected with them in spirit, and in the end, I am able to make myself instrumental in their edification without having to show myself in person to them, or their hearing my voice, or talking to them face to face.

Are you allowed to chat or maintain social networking profiles (Multiply, Friendster, etc.)?
Not chatting, but Friendster is allowed, although I haven’t updated my Myspace or Youtube for almost half a year. My time is spent mostly on blogging.

Do you have any blogging limitations as a monk?
Actually noong bagu-bago pa lang ako nagba-blog ay pinagbawalan ako ng superior ko dahil siguro naisip niyang baka kung anu-ano na lang ang ipaglalalagay ko sa blog ko, compromising the community or putting it in a bad light. Pero nung nakita nilang puro reflections at homilies ang nilalagay ko ay okay na rin sa kanila.

Siyempre, hindi ko naman pwedeng i-blog ang away-away dito. Just like any other normal community of people of different thinking, lalo na sa community ko na iba-iba ang nationality, expected na talagang magkakaroon ng conflicts every now and then.

Minsan nga nag-blog ako ng isang post about something–nagalit ako–but I had to sanitize it and put the rest of the story in my other blog at ni-link ko na lang ito at Tinagalog ko talaga para hindi mabasa ng mga Amerikanong nagbabasa ng blog ko, lalo na ang mga kaparian, mga madre, at ibang monghe sa ibang congregations and monasteries.

Minsan makulit din ang utak ko eh. Pag may mga hinaing ako na gustung-gusto kong i-release ay talagang sinusulat ko pa rin at ipinapadaan ko na lang through a reflection or meditation at tinutugma ko ito sa readings of the day para hindi lalabas na nagra-rant ako. Pero hindi ko pwedeng i-pinpoint ang isang erring brother or bitchy monk or whatnot sa blog ko.

Do you think this new medium helps your mission?
Blogging helps me reach out to total strangers. In my site, for instance, one can find religious meditations and reflections as well as spiritual insights that inspire people and give meaning to their day-to-day encounter.

Alternative sources of spiritual inspiration linked to my blog by bloggers of different religious orders and congregations may give them interest too. If you take a closer look at their blogs, you’ll be surprised at how their blogs generate so much traffic every day.

Do you encourage other monks, priests, or nuns to blog?
Yes, if their tight schedules will allow them to do it.

What does the Catholic Church have to say about religious people who blog?
The Catholic Church has been so liberal about the religious who blog and has been very supportive of it. Even superiors of religious orders (monasteries) and congregations, both men and women, have their own blogs.

When do you get to come home to the Philippines?
We are allowed to go home every two years. Since I went home last year [2007], my next home visit will be in 2009. Monks are allowed to go home for anything urgent, such as a death in the family member or the serious illness of parents, so I was able to come home again in August 2007, when a family member passed away.

Does a monk have crushes too?
Siyempre, oo naman. Tao pa rin naman ako kahit consecrated na ang aking katawang lupa at kaluluwa at buong pagkatao para sa Diyos. Kaya nga ang tanging panlaban ko na lang pag umaatake ang ganyang klaseng passion sa isip at puso ko ay ang magdasal, magrosaryo ng nakadipa sa loob ng room ko, at ang maligo ng maligo umaga at hapon.

Sa monastic life ang kalaban ng isang monghe ay hindi ang kapaligiran niya kundi ang sarili niyang passions–passion for anger, passion for love, passion for sex, and passion for self- gratification. These are all stumbling blocks to a smooth and pious way of life for a monk. Kapag hindi malampasan at mapaglabanan ng isang monk ito ay asahan mong after some time ay tiyak na hindi siya makakatiis at lalabas siya to go back to the world where these passions that he cannot control can be freely achieved.

Kaya nga meron kaming stages of monastic formation sa mga bagong pasok. In order to attune them finally for only one passion–passion for God and nothing else–the process of monastic formation starts from postulancy of six months. One becomes a novitiate for a year, then three years in simple vows. If the monk, after these years of monastic formation and training, has proven himself to be worthy of becoming a permanent monk, then the community votes for him to be able to receive the final consecration of perpetual vows.

Do you have any message for your Filipino readers?
I am very delighted that among the different races who blog, the Filipinos all over the world have the most beautiful and interesting blogs (content wise), and have the most unique and distinct layout. I am very proud of Filipino bloggers. Keep blogging your thoughts, your aspirations, and your lives as they give inspiration to our own countrymen and to the whole world. Mabuhay tayong mga blagistang Pilipino!

To the Filipinos in general: Life is not that difficult if you will take the lead in accepting the challenges of life and making a name for yourselves in any venture you may have Mabuhay tayong mga Pilipino!

Wednesday, April 7, 2010

New York's Loss, Manila's Gain

 Pinoy chocolatier Raul Matias elevates Philippine flavors to world-class status with his unique creations, now proudly Manila-made. 

He left for the States a physical therapist. Eighteen years later, Raul Matias came home a chocolatier, bringing with him a chocolate brand that was slowly making its name in New York’s elite circles.

He called his chocolates Machiavelli, after his favorite author, Italian philosopher Niccolo Machiavelli. Bold like Machiavelli, Raul’s sweet selections are a fusion of European and Asian flavors, the strong taste of chocolate tempered by subtle flavors such as purple yam [ube], guava, jackfruit, coconut, and green tea.

Raul’s foray into chocolate making was serendipitous. In search of business opportunities online, he read of a woman who sold personalized chocolate bars. “All she did was wrap the Hershey’s bars. It was tacky! I thought, I could do this. Why not make my own chocolate?”

Through the online Ecole Chocolat, Raul was able to study chocolatier courses in Vancouver and France. Later he took advanced classes with a Belgian teacher in Florida and interned with several chocolatier stores in Connecticut, New York, and Orlando.

Pinoy chocolatier in New York
Shifting into chocolate making, he moved to New York. There he made chocolates at a rented commercial kitchen. His Eurasian-flavored creations such as Mango Lait, Jasmine Blossom, Ivoire Jack, and Purple Yam Yum were sold in gourmet stores or through private orders.

He found fulfillment in chocolate making, never mind if it took him hours to make. “I didn’t feel drained at all. I had classmates in chocolate school who were psychiatrists and orthopedic physicians who left their professions, and later on I understood why. There’s something magical about chocolate. It makes you happy, maybe because of all the chemicals that it gives out.”

Machiavelli in Manila
In 2008, after weighing his options carefully, Raul packed up and decided to come home to the Philippines. Too bad for New Yorkers, but lucky for us Manilans, we now have access to a world-class chocolate brand that’s made by a Pinoy chocolatier.

Sold exclusively through Rustan’s, Machiavelli is fast becoming a hit among Manilans, who have warmed up to the Yema de Manila and the Guava Asia.

In this exclusive tete-a-tete with Raul back in July 2009, he talks about making it in New York, coming home, and his bigger (Machiavellian?) plans of conquering the world as the first Pinoy chocolatier.

Pinoycentric: Why Machiavelli?
Raul Matias: I chose Machiavelli because it’s got substance and character, and the name is universal. It crosses boundaries. If I used my name and sold my chocolates abroad, people will say, “Who the hell [is this person]?”

As a Pinoy entrepreneur, it must have been difficult to penetrate New York.
It wasn’t easy. I came from Orlando and had just moved to New York, so my friend, a physician, drove me around Manhattan in his Mercedes-Benz to hand out samples to the gourmet stores. We were all dressed up because we didn’t want them to snub us.

How was the reception?
It was very good! A popular champagne brand hired me to make truffles for a wine-tasting event. I made some extra ube chocolate, which I let the owner taste. He liked it!

You already had your foot in the door. Why did you come back home?
I always knew I would come back. I loved the life here. Mas relaxed dito [It’s more laid-back here]. I don’t want to grow old in the US.

Also, I realized that while I could make money, I wouldn’t enjoy it kasi ako lahat [because I did everything]. I was making my chocolates in a commercial kitchen in Westchester County, with only an assistant. Thirteen hours, tuluy-tuloy, ang break ko, ihi lang [straight, with only a toilet break].

So what was the takeaway of the whole New York experience?
I enjoyed being independent and learning about the business culture, but I was never comfortable because a big part of me was Pinoy. I was never an American and didn’t feel like one. [In America], you have to be self-centered to survive, because ikaw lahat dun [you do everything there], to the point that you’ll forget yourself. You can’t help it. [It’s] that part I didn’t like.

Chocolate with guava and jackfruit . . . When do all these ideas come to you?
When I’m sleeping, because that’s when I’m relaxed, or when I’m in the car, driving. Even Martha Stewart said, “I think when I sleep.” It’s not when you want them; it’s when you’re relaxed [that the ideas come].

How do you keep your selections exciting?
I don’t want to be boring! I want to always reinvent my products because you have to keep up with other brands.

Also, part of me is Filipino, so I really infuse it in my creations. When people taste my chocolate, I want them to relate to me.

What’s the most challenging part about chocolate making?
I visualize it before I even make it. The hard part is living in a tropical country. I had to adjust some of my recipes because of the humidity. I’m glad I have a background in medicine. It comes in handy.

After New York and Manila, what’s next?
I want to bring Machiavelli to Asia–first to Singapore, Indonesia, and Malaysia. I want to show the world that Asians aren’t second-rate, that we can be as good and as intelligent as the rest. We can do it. This is our time.

Machiavelli Chocolates are available at Rustan’s Makati at at Rustan's Tower in Shangri-La Plaza Mall. Contact them at (+632) 483-9854.

Thursday, August 20, 2009

Knocking on Death’s Door

Aida Bilog Sambat stares death in the face every day. As a hospice nurse in America, her work brings her to the beds of the terminally ill, those who are but a few steps away from death’s door.

Trained to care for the critically ill, hospice nurses are often seen as death angels—medical professionals who are tasked to end the life of a patient. But to Aida, who has held the hand of many a dying patient, a hospice nurse does more than prolong life or provide comfort to people during their final hours.

“Medical, surgical, and intensive care nurses help patients become well, [while] hospice nurses prepare patients for their journey beyond,” Aida writes in her book, From the Womb to the Tomb: Diary of a Hospice Nurse.

She’s seen some patients die alone and others with not a single cent to pay for their burial expenses. She’s helped relatives of the dying come to terms with death and most often weeps along with them for a patient that she has become fond of.

Had she known that she would be caring for dying patients in America, she probably would not have left her hometown, Katipunan, 14 kilometers away from Dipolog City. The experience turned out to be “an extraordinary privilege.”

“[As a hospice nurse], I had the opportunity to meet and care for many wonderful people during a different time in their lives, most often until the very end. It is hard to imagine the mindset one would have when they are facing their impending death until you see someone experience it firsthand.”

More than just a diary of a Filipino nurse who has made it big in America, From the Womb to the Tomb is Aida’s advocacy for the terminally ill.

“I feel there is a need for more public awareness when it comes to the needs of terminally ill patients. Death is a certainty, yet it is a topic that is less talked about. [For example,] many people incorrectly believe that pain medication like morphine hastens the death of the patient. Contrary to this belief, good pain management will prolong the life of a patient,” she says.

In her book, Aida takes us to the homes of her terminally ill patients, where she does more than give medication or get their vital signs. We’re privy to private conversations about life and dying. We smile when we read her playful banter with one patient, a former high-school principal who constantly quizzed her about history. She tells us of another patient, an Italian immigrant who hopes to hear from a long lost brother. We nod in agreement with another patient, once wealthy, who would realize that in the twilight of his life, all he had was a shoebox of memories.

Aida’s work doesn’t end when a patient is taken away by the funeral home. Once, she and several nurses offered to pool together their money for the cremation of a dead patient whose family could not afford to pay for it. Another time, Aida was tasked to break the news to a son that his mother only had a few days to live.
What Aida’s book tells us is something we all know but never wanted to talk about: that death is happiest for one who dies at home, where happy memories abound and where they are surrounded by loved ones, that the dying will embrace death when they have lived a full life with no regrets.

One of Aida’s patient sums it best: “Do anything you want to do now, because there’s no guarantee of a tomorrow.”

Tuesday, July 7, 2009

Keeping the Flame


For Fil-Am writer Carina Montoya, writing two historical books about Filipino immigrants in California was an attempt in knowing more about her father who died when she was seven

Her recently launched book, Los Angeles’s Historic Filipinotown, released by Arcadia Publishing, traces the history of one of California’s largest Filipino enclaves. Historic Filipinotown was where many Pinoy immigrants settled and put up businesses during the turn of the twentieth century.

“Getting to know my father through my books has enlightened me about so many things about the Filipino community. It lit a flame within me to preserve this history that I am very much a part of,” says Carina, a full-blooded Pinoy who was born and raised in the Hollywood area.

Carina’s father, Tommy, a native of General Trias, Cavite, served with the US Navy and settled in Los Angeles, where he found work in Hollywood as a waiter at the Don the Beachcomer, a Polynesian resto-bar that catered to the Hollywood film industry crowd.

Like many other Pinoys who pursued the American dream, Carina’s father had a hard time when he first arrived in the US.

“My father did not have any relatives in America. His friends became his family—they lived in groups, sharing food and money when times were bad,” Carina relates. He met and later married Carina’s mother Rose in San Francisco when she was visiting a brother who worked in the Alaskan fish canneries.

Later diagnosed with multiple sclerosis, Tommy became paralyzed from the neck down and had to be put in an iron lung at the Rancho Los Amigos in Downey, California. Rose was forced to find work to support an ill husband and two young children, Carina and her brother Eric.

“My mother took English and business classes, which resulted in her finding a job at Occidental life Insurance Company in downtown LA,” Carina relates. While she was not earning much, Rose managed to bring food to the table, pay rent, send her kids to private schools, and even afford music lessons.

When Carina’s father died, the family moved back to the Philippines, where they often traveled to see relatives in Ilocos Sur.

“There was no electricity, no indoor plumbing, and water was drawn from the well,” Carina recalls of this Philippine visit. “But the country was beautiful, and I will always remember the beautiful clear blue-green water and the fruit trees.” After a year in the Philippines, Rose decided to bring her kids back to the US as they often fell sick.

Discrimination

While researching for Filipinos in Hollywood, an earlier book, Carina realized that discrimination in fact existed, and Pinoy immigrants like her parents were victims of it.

“My brother and I never felt the effects discrimination and interracial marriage. Language barriers and identity confusion were never issues. We viewed ourselves as American and had no socialization problems,” Carina explains.

Now having come to terms with her Pinoy roots, Carina is working on several projects that, she hopes, “will keep Filipino history alive to pass on to future generations.”

Carina is happy to share that her kids are intent on understanding and preserving their Pinoy roots.

“My children’s cookbooks [with renowned artist/muralist Eliseo Art Silva as illustrator] are also an attempt to preserve our culture, identity, and heritage by passing on this information to future generations.  The cookbooks incorporate Filipino history and food, such as where adobo came from and its Spanish influence, and how it is made,” Carina relates.

Another of Carina’s projects is the Los Angeles Filipino Museum, which is housed in an original Victorian house purchased in the thirties by one of the city’s oldest Pinoy families. Located at the heart of Historic Filipinotown, the museum will display photographs dating back to the twenties when Filipino immigrants first settled in LA. The exhibit will also include prints of the first Filipino organizations founded in LA, among them the Filipino Federation of America, Philippine Women’s Club, Santa Maria Ilocos Sur Association, Pangasinan Association, and the Cebu Brotherhood.

With all of Carina’s efforts in preserving the Pinoy culture for the children of the diaspora, Tommy Montoya must be very proud.

Carina Montoya’s books Filipinos in Hollywood and Los Angeles’s Historic Filipinotown can be purchased at all Internet book stores, Barnes & Noble, Filipino American Library and at her Website.

Sunday, April 12, 2009

First Person: Layoff Psychology

By Joan Lopez Flores


It wasn’t the perfect job, but when I got a callback from an online promotional products company back in October 2007 hiring me to be their newest copywriter, I thought just that. Not that my copyediting job prior was that bad—in fact it’s still one of the companies that I’m proud to have been associated with to this day. It’s just that, well, I felt underpaid and undermined, thus my eagerness to get into this new company that promised an exciting new work environment and a host of benefits you can’t find elsewhere!

November 1 was my starting date, basically because the company wanted me to begin right away. Now I’ve never been a superstitious person, though I’m occasionally curious of eerie events, but now when I look back I sometimes find myself thinking, maybe I shouldn’t have agreed to start then.

Working there wasn’t quite as I imagined it would be, but it was okay. I was treated decently. I gave them what I was asked of—copy for all new merchandise to be uploaded in the company Website’s online catalogue, pretty much. The team I got assigned to wasn’t necessarily my idea of friends, but then I’ve always been complimented to have the talent of making friends anywhere.

What I looked forward to every day were the coffee breaks and lunch hour, where I would get together with two of my colleagues whom I’ve become friends with during my previous employment (actually we resigned from there at around the same time, too, and got jobs in this new company). To that end, I guess it was almost the perfect job: working with friends.

Recession
Three months into the job and things started getting shaky.  The company was US-owned, and with the economic recession then in the advent of burgeoning into the gaping hole it is today, the execs were all on their toes, panicky. Soon talk of “cutting costs,” “making ends meet,” and eventually “company-wide layoff” became everyone’s daily gossip.

It was funny, because I didn’t feel that much affected. Not that I had zero fears of getting fired–after all, I was one of the newest ones on board, but somehow, for some weird reason, I was indifferent about the whole thing. Sure, I engaged in talk of so-where-do-we-go-next-if-ever among close friends, but not every two seconds like the others.

A week passed, and indeed, the layoff happened. First two, then four, sometimes even almost a dozen people at a time, one department after another. Accounting. Sales. Art. Marketing. Still not feeling the tension.

Then that evening came. I got to work pleased that traffic wasn’t half-bad when it was in fact Friday night, ergo congested EDSA night. I ran into my supervisor on my way up the building, talking in a hushed tone with two of my other colleagues. I thought nothing of it and went straight to the elevators.

Mindless hours later and into my coffee/cigarette break, I went out and there my supervisor was again. This time she asked me, “Joan, they’re asking me to pick three people.”

I honestly thought my heart sank, but it didn’t, although I pretended to be devastated. It was really funny, this feeling of distance from all the panic. She went on about assessing performance, tenure, and all that, but I could really care less, I thought then. Maybe it was an instant defense mechanism? I didn’t know. But I remember just thinking then, if it’s going to happen to me, then let it. I’ll manage. Or maybe, I was really convinced at the back of my head that I was going to stay. I mean, I did a kickass job at copywriting, why would they want to kick me out?

Bad news
Conference call, everyone in the team was in the room. The VP from offshore rambled on and on from the loudspeaker about how she didn’t see this whole thing coming, and so on and so forth. And then finally, the names. Three people. She said my name last.

I swear, I did not expect to be the least bit stirred, but I was actually floored to the hilt! I realized then that the reason I was indifferent all the while was because I really did not expect to get fired, and I really did not want to be, no matter the countless times I’ve said the words “there are so many other jobs out there, anyway.”

And just about then, when everyone was consoling me, even telling me the company made a bad call kicking me out and that I deserved to stay, the reality of being “jobless” started to hit me like one thick hardbound thumping on my head after another. I thought about my baby girl just about to turn one that year, my mom and my two brothers still studying who depended on me, especially since my dad had just died two months from then. My husband had a decent job, but it would not be enough to support all of us.

I kept cool going through the paperwork that very same day. No more coming to work Monday, they said, but I’ll be paid for a whole month on top of my last paycheck.

Bouncing back
It wouldn’t be until two months after that I’d find another job. Not the same benefits, what with all other companies tightening belts as well, but decent enough. The days that followed were grueling, I must admit. It wasn’t easy to find a new job with the description and salary you want and start from scratch again when you’ve just settled in. I found myself busy with other things besides applications, like my mother’s small business that sadly didn’t do well and taking a work-from-home stint that ended up not so well either. I had to brave myself to face every day knowing I did not have the security I used to have, reassure myself that I was worth a company’s trust and investment. And I had to learn to fully, even blindly, trust God to take care of things for me.

I turned out okay, and it’s been over a year. I’ve put the experience behind me, and I look back at it with a smile now and a lot of gratitude. I still have that same job and it paid the bills. Getting laid off and being able to go through it and survive has permanently reshaped my character, I must say. I’ve learned to adapt better, to hold on, to value what I have. It taught me to be prepared for any jab and that sometimes it can be an uppercut from nowhere, and how to cope when it does hit hard on the nose.

And now that recession continues to happen and affect many others–would you believe, my husband got laid off just last week!–I know better than to care less and prepare for the worst. Prayer has never failed me too, I learned, and so I continue to trust Him and let Him be God. Yes, never mind if my next job come another year or so signs me up to start November 1 again.

Monday, February 16, 2009

Cafe Mary Grace: Homemade Goodness


By Francis Acero
 
In 1994, Mary Grace Dimacali, a homemaker and mother of five, had a dream of building her own business selling ensaimada and fruit cake she would bake from her own home kitchen. The problem was, she was a psychologist by training. She didn’t exactly have the tools to make the dream a reality. So she went to the US to learn baking at the Pierce College in Los Angeles. When she came back, she took a master’s degree in business from the Asian Institute of Management.

Upon graduating in 2001, her five-year plan was to take her ensaimada business, which was gaining popularity from her participation in food fairs that pop up at Christmastime, and translate it into a growing, sustainable enterprise.

A little bit under seven years, thirteen kiosks, and two cafés later, I find myself talking to the woman whose name has become synonymous with the best cheese rolls that can be found in Manila in her café at Serendra where she talks about life, food, family, and the community.

Francis Acero: Where did the idea of this—everything—come from?
Mary Grace Dimacali: I love baking! I’ve always had a natural love, a fascination, for what happens when you mix flour, sugar, and yeast. [Baking is] something great to do when you’re raising kids. So while the kids were growing up, I managed to steal some time, develop my recipes, and sell my products within the little village where I live.

I had gone to baking school and came back with tons and tons of recipes for American goodies, but I didn’t feel drawn to developing sourdough bread, croissants, and things like that. I wanted to develop something Filipinos love and that is close to their hearts—the ensaimada.

While my children were growing up, I wondered what business would allow me, while still making full use of my time as a mother, to explore possibilities in entrepreneurship. So I joined bazaars, which I did for the longest time—seven years.

How was that first bazaar like?
Oh, it was scary. It was at the Polo Club, and my son Gabriel, who now manages the kiosks, was with me. I wasn’t selling at all! Ang hirap [It was difficult]! It was a new product and people were wary of it. So my son says, “Mom, cut up your ensaimada and give samples to people!” So I did. I asked a waiter for a plate and a knife and a fork, and the thirty boxes I brought that day went so fast, I came home with nothing. That gave me the courage to do it week after week from September to December.

It’s hard work. It’s tiring. It’s not easy. You’re standing there, talking to people under the rain! I’m not kidding. Once, I set up a tent in Santuario (de San Antonio) and there was no more space inside so I had to set up outside in the garden and it was raining so hard, and there I was with my ensaimadas!

One time, I remember I didn’t sell so well at a bazaar, I had so many boxes left! I went to Magallanes church and I set up outside. I ended up selling all my boxes.

It’s funny. It must be in people to want to do this. What I was doing, you have to love it.

What made you love selling? Was it the people you met? Was it the look on their faces when they tasted your ensaimada? What was it?
I love to sell. It’s natural to me. In college, we had these fairs and we would have contests on who would sell the most halo-halo, the most barbecues. I’d stay there from opening until the late, late hours, just selling. It’s a natural thing.

If selling things comes naturally to you, then I guess this line of work is a lot of fun.
It’s a lot of fun, but at the end of the day, it’s very draining. I guess it was fun meeting people. You know, the kindest people would come by my table and buy a box from me because they wanted to help. Other times, they’d pass by and say, “Grace, next time na lang ha. I still have ensaimadas in my fridge.”

You’ve become quite known for the cheese rolls. How did they come about?
I started out making the ensaimadas with cheddar cheese. Then someone suggested that I make them with queso de bola, which I did. But then, not everybody likes queso de bola because it’s got such a sharp taste. The cheese roll is something designed for children to like quite easily.

The ensaimada and the cheese roll come from the same dough. Only the shape is different. The ensaimada is large and round, while the cheese rolls are small and elongated.

Right now the ensaimadas have cheese only on top but I used to make them with the cheese inside. Then we found out there was no difference in taste between ensaimada with the cheese inside and with the cheese outside, so we kept the cheese outside. It’s more appealing that way. Besides, queso de bola is very expensive. It’s P750 per ball.

I notice that the café has a different design than the kiosks. The kiosks are more “modern” while the café feels like your living room. Is that intentional?
That’s true. You know how you discover who you are through time? This café is who I am. When we put up this café, it wasn’t easy because we had all these influences around. There’s Starbucks, which is more modern, while Figaro’s also quaint. So I decided I’ll be me. With my sister-in-law Marilen and her daughter and my architect, Mike Chan, this is what came out.

Then there are these fantastic letters beneath the glass. They seem to be changing every time.
Yes. People love to write! Isn’t that great? They take pen and paper and they love the feeling of slipping these letters under the table. It started out with celebrities, and then people who come to the place and appreciate us, they just write their kind messages there. That’s how I grew—through the kindness of people. Some of the letters are in Trinoma as well. People leave letters there too.

What happens is that some people slip it in there themselves and sometimes, they just give it to us. Then the servers come in the morning and arrange them in a circle. It’s great feedback. We don’t only collect good feedback, we also receive constructive criticism. That helps us improve a lot.

You have these ink prints of old Manila on the table as well. What’s the story behind them?
If you notice, the café is quite Filipino. We have these ventanillas designed on the wall, too. [Ventanillas are these small windows above the main windows in a Filipino bahay-na-bato design that are opened to induce air to circulate]. We also have these crochet doilies aside from these ink prints of scenes from old Manila. That speaks of a bygone era. Before that we even had a mamang sorbetero [ice cream vendor] and other Filipino knickknacks to bring back memories of an older time.

Cooking is like writing, where food, like writing, changes with one’s influences. What are your cooking influences right now?
I love Italian cooking. I was in Italy recently, for two weeks. I love arugula [rocket], how they make use of it. I had a pizza with arugula on it, and it was so good! I’m open to other cuisine as well, but I decided to develop around the pasta and the sandwiches. I’d also love to explore other Mediterranean cuisine. I had the good fortune to be in Tuscany. Great, great cuisine. We also went to Provence. I wish I could go there again. That’s my dream, to take another course in cooking—Italian cooking.

What makes good food?
Balance. The flavors. You have four basic flavors. Sweet, sour, bitter, and salty. You take these four elements and you balance them so when the pasta lands in your mouth, it isn’t too salty; it isn’t too sweet. The flavors work together and come together. When they get there nicely, that makes good food.

Ingredients, of course. Use only the freshest.

Technique, too. How the flavors come together with the ingredients depends on your technique. Like when you make a pasta sauce, you stew it for a long time so the flavors come together.

Also a sense of health. My husband’s very health-conscious, so we have a lot of pasta that use olive oil. Of course we make ensaimadas and brownies, and people ask us if we can make a sugar-free version. I just tell them to eat moderately [laughter].

Aside from running this business, you’re also village president. How does your day go? How do you manage to squeeze everything in?
Ay, hectic. I meet my sales girls at eight in the morning. I continuously train them. I meet them at home to hone their communication, their speaking, their selling, and their product knowledge. We talk about problems and difficulties.

Then I’m in production, checking quality. Then I go to the café or visit the occasional kiosk. [My work is] really hands-on. I admire investors, actually, because they just hand over the money and forget about it. Me, I have all the problems!

I try to go to mass every day, though. I feel more grounded when I go to mass. I try to make it a daily habit. When I do, everything seems to fall into place. When I don’t, I get angry, irritable. There might be a thousand and one things going around you but when you go to mass, there’s this grace that comes to you that you can meet life’s challenges as they come.

Entrepreneurship is 24/7. I find I’m thinking and working, even into the late hours. I’ve never had a quiet, pleasant Christmas. That’s one thing about this business. I wish I could just enjoy Christmas, do the things that ordinary people do, but for me, I’m tired. That’s the payback of this business that I have come to love.

I heard you’re big on women empowerment right now.
We have this can-do board beneath one of the ventanillas. I’m an entrepreneur and I started from home, so now I put this can-do board for women entrepreneurs, so they can develop this skill and craft from the home.
I want this café to tell women that they can do it. They can become someone even if they stay at home, even if they decide to be homemakers and raise their children. If ever they find themselves on that path, it’s okay.

There are a lot of good things that come from being at home and raising kids. Who would have thought that at 44 I’d be running a business and taking up my master’s?

To the women out there, just be good at what you are: foremost, a mom. Be a good mom and pay attention to your kids. That time won’t pass by again. Now that my children are all grown up, it’s time to do this.

Monday, December 29, 2008

Dine, Drink, and Appreciate Art

Anthony Fermin's "Tea Party"


Dining establishments are now serving more than food on the menu. Now you can take away not just your favorite dish, but you can also bring home a painting you like, all wrapped up to go. Art exhibits, once limited to galleries, are finding new homes in restaurants like Le Souffle, Green Halo Cafe, and Bacolod-based Hong Kong Kitchen.

The Hong Kong Kitchen’s 40-person function room offers not just the usual multiple-course Chinese meal but Negros-based visual artist Anthony Fermin’s collection of paintings of memorable places he has visited, like an Iloilo treehouse and the Bacolod Plaza Cathedral where he regularly buys flowers for his shop. To stay consistent with the restaurant’s Oriental theme, Fermin, who confessed to being partial to Chinese food, also included subjects such as dragon dance and tea party scenes in his line-up.

Green Halo Cafe, which offers a vegan menu at Cubao X, has also sponsored a number of art exhibits. Prior to Daniel “Palma” Tayona’s pen-and-ink collection that opened on December 20, Green Halo featured “Labyrinth of Blooms” by Katrina Pallon. The debut exhibit included photographs and paintings by the artist, in whose works we see the influences of French art nouveau, Asian textile prints and patterns, and Venetian masks come into play.

Truly, these restaurants are telling us that man does not live by bread alone. He also needs the finer aspects of life, art included.

Tuesday, October 14, 2008

Rowena Vilar: Dreaming Big

“It’s great to dream big,” says Melbourne-born Pinoy actor Rowena Vilar, who started in classical ballet and got into musical theater by chance. Just five years into her musical theater career, Rowena has taken on the roles of Kim, Gigi, and Ellen in the Sydney production of Miss Saigon, performed with Hugh Jackman in The Boy from Oz, and is now playing her dream role as Anita in West Side Story, produced by Audie Gemora of Stages and directed by Menchu Lauchengco-Yulo.

Of course, getting there also has a lot to do with talent and discipline, which Rowena has much of. Her mom used to sing, she tells us, and her joining West Side Story came with a good recommendation from Miss Saigon co-actor Leo Valdez, who played the Engineer. During the media preview for West Side Story at the Meralco Theater, Rowena showed she was worthy of the recommendation and got some of the biggest applause from the audience.

After West Side Story, what’s next for Rowena? Let’s wait and find out. Life has a been a series of adventure for this talented Pinay, and Manila is just one of the many stops.

In this interview with Pinoycentric, Rowena talks about growing up Pinoy in Sydney and shares her best experiences working in Manila for West Side Story.

How do you like the experience of working with a Manila-based theater company?  How is it different from working in Australia and especially for grander-scale productions?
I arrived August 2 and began rehearsals on the fourth.  I loved working here right away!  There is a certain “organized chaos” here in Manila that is quite thrilling.  That’s how it felt when I first walked into rehearsals.  I had no idea what was actually happening or how, but somehow it all works.

There are major differences between working in Manila and in Oz. Shows in Oz are so meticulously organized: stage management literally timing every second–they are required to carry stopwatches.

Rehearsals are scheduled meticulously.  Dance numbers are cleaned so that every finger is in the right place and everyone is doing exactly the same thing. In addition, it is illegal not to give cast a break after 4 hours. Lateness is not tolerated unless it is a one-off occasion.  However, regardless of why, pay is docked.

I could probably give you a list as long as your arm, but I won’t bore you. And although this may seem like a better way of doing things, I don’t necessarily agree.

I have come to learn that with the organized chaos that happens here in the Philippines, Filipinos have learnt a wonderful tool and that is being able to work under pressure.

Filipinos adapt so well under high-pressure circumstances and are able to do it with ease.  I hope the more I work here, the more I too will learn this wonderful tool.

How was it like growing up Pinoy in Australia? Did your parents put in the extra effort to make you aware of your roots?
I am very Australian in some ways and also very Filipino.  I have so many relatives in Australia and Filipino friends (over 40 first-degree relatives) that regardless of whether my parents tried to make me aware of my roots, there’s no way I could escape them anyway!

Food is the biggest Filipino factor.  Us Filipinos love to eat and my family always cooked Filipino food.

Also, I can understand Bisaya perfectly as my parents would speak the language quite a lot.  As for my fluency, well, that’s questionable, and so is my accent, but I love to try anyway!

Can you tell us how you got into theater? Is there anybody in the family with a theatrical/showbiz background?
Mum used to sing when she was younger, but she never did it professionally.  However, I think she may have told me she came third in a competition on TV when she was younger.

I “fell” into musical theater.  I was a classically trained ballet dancer for 8 to 10 years, quit for 7 years, then took it up again when I saw a friend of mine in a dance concert.  After training hard in all dance types (blood, sweat, and tears),  I auditioned for a series of shows, including a musical, and ended up getting the musical theater job (Queen’s We Will Rock You).  I then became addicted and so continued with musicals.

I never thought I would ever do musical theater as I was mainly a dancer back then, but fate has a funny way of pushing you in the right direction–my life has always been a constant adventure!
As Anita in West Side Story (Photo by Jeff Arcilla)
 
People who watched you on West Side Story were impressed with your dancing, and now we know why.
I would have to say my classical ballet training has never left me.  In every style, “lines” are so important. If you can hit the right ones, this is what makes it visually appealing.

Also, I am a perfectionist. The problem–or maybe it isn’t one?–is that I’m never ever fully satisfied with my performances.  I’m always seeking a way to make it better, stronger, snappier.  I know I can always do a better job.  Honestly, I have not been totally satisfied with any of my performances yet. I don’t think that’s a bad thing.

You’ve done a lot since you started in 2003, having been a part of large-scale, world-class productions like We Will Rock You and Miss Saigon, among others. Do you have a dream role? Is there a musical you’re really intent on doing, given the opportunity?
To tell you the truth, Anita is a dream role for anyone who is an actor/singer/dancer.  The spectrum of emotional colors and what she represents in the show I can’t see matched by any other that comes to mind.

From outspoken fun, sexy “America” to the unconditional love in “A Boy Like That/I Have a Love,” even after Maria betrays her, to the near-rape scene where she is a broken woman.  I love the role.

The other role I would love to sink my teeth in more would be Kim from Miss Saigon.  I’ve been lucky enough to have had a taste and feel that given the opportunity, I would love to take a bigger bite!

The West Side experience must have been a unique one for you. Can you share some of your most favorite memories from the show that you’ll take with you back to Sydney?
Well, firstly meeting [West Side Story female lead star] Joanna Ampil [was memorable]. I was so starstruck!  She is now a dear friend of mine.  I will always stay in touch with her and hopefully sing on the same stage as her again too!

Also meeting Lea Salonga!  I’ve been so in awe of her since I was a teenager and now she even knows who I am! My friends are going to be sooooo jealous!

It’s hard to say what in particular is the most unique from the rest. I can’t really pick one as the whole thing has been a totally different experience from anything I’ve ever had!

Can you share one aspect about Rowena Vilar that hasn’t been written yet?
I’ll give you two.  I am a huge animal lover and I looooove designer shoes. [Laughter]

Surely you’re missing Australia and the family. Did your parents come over to watch you in one of your performances?
I do miss Australia but not that much.  I miss the people I love, but the place itself . . . not really.  My parents came for opening night and stayed for two weeks.  They missed only one of my performances.

Have you been able to do the tourist thing since you arrived in Manila? What places have you visited? How has the Manila experience enriched the Pinoy in you?
I’ve been to Boracay and Baguio.  Beautiful! I think the food has enriched the Pinoy in me! [Laughter]. Well, really, there’s only one Pinoy restaurant in Sydney!

After West Side Story, what’s next for Rowena Vilar?
Well, I’m looking at a pop career here.  I think it’s great to dream big!  Nothing is concrete, but a few whispers have come up about some projects.  I’m going back to Oz for a short while as I have some business to do there, but I’ll be back in no time!

I have a manager here (the famous Girlie Rodis) who is taking care of me.  So hopefully next year the ball gets rolling and big things happen!No Tags

Sunday, September 14, 2008

Coffee, a Great Equalizer, Says This Artist

Photo by Reuters

Filipino visual artist Sunshine Plata doesn’t drink her coffee (she actually prefers tea). She paints with it.

Sunshine started using coffee as a medium in 2000, when she discovered a nineteenth-century signature rendered in coffee at the Ripley’s Museum in Shangri-La Mall in Mandaluyong City. That was her lightbulb moment.

Then a psychology student dabbling in watercolor and oil,  Sunshine was looking for a medium that was accessible, cheaper, and unique, saying she felt guilty that her parents would readily shell out money for her art materials.

That was the start of her love affair with coffee, and she hasn’t looked back since.


Universal medium
“Unlike other medium, coffee is eco-friendly and gives off a distinct aroma.  It’s also a lot cheaper than oils and watercolor,” says this former preschool teacher. In fact, one of her works, “Bagong Umaga [New Morning],” a painting inspired by coffee farmers, was produced with just a bottle of instant coffee costing P150.

While she’s been painting with coffee for eight years now, Sunshine admits that she’s still learning the ins and outs of the medium. She’s mastered producing dark hues on watercolor paper with just a few scoops of coffee and knows just how little to add to produce a light stain similar to aged paper. These coffee-rendered images should last longer than 75 years.

Thankfully, her craft isn’t brand loyal, and she can easily shift from imported to local coffee brands.

“I tried Maxwell when I ran out of Nescafe, and my dad scolded me because it was very expensive. I’ve also used Great Taste and even coffee grounds from Figaro. Using grounds can be tedious, however, because you have to heat water and filter the mixture. With instant coffee, just tap water will do,” she shares.
Sunshine was featured in a Ripley’s Believe It or Not special edition cartoon in March 2008 as the artist who creates lifelike pictures with coffee grounds.


Overcoming limitations
Sunshine’s images of fairies and fairy-tale characters come from her dreams and children’s books that she reads, only they’re rendered in browns and whites. While many are quick to say that the medium is limiting, Sunshine sees it as a challenge. “It should make you more creative and encourage you to explore the medium,” she says.

She does miss the colors and plans to work with mixed media soon so she could bring the colors back in her work. She recently bought some Chuck Taylors and plans to paint on them as well.

Part of her advocacy is to make people aware that there is more to art than just oils and watercolors and that anyone–rich or poor–can paint as long as he has some coffee in his kitchen. Her artist credo encapsulates her sentiments for the art of coffee painting: “I wish to make coffee a unique medium to be used by anyone, anywhere in the world, regardless of race, religious or political belief, rich or poor, in their creative expression in the field of arts.”

Which is to say, it hasn’t been smooth sailing for this artist. “Many galleries wouldn’t let me exhibit in the past because they say that coffee isn’t a legitimate medium, and I feel that creative expression shouldn’t be limited. What if you don’t have access to traditional art media–does it mean you can’t express yourself anymore?”

She’s recently found a supporter in Nestle Philippines, manufacturer of coffee brand Nescafe, which sponsored her first solo exhibit in January this year. Twenty-seven of her 33 displayed works were sold in one night. The Ripley’s Museum in New York was also interested in two of her works–“Fairy of Sorrows” and “Reina de la Luna”–which it bought for $2,500. One of the paintings was featured in the Martha Stewart show for the April Fools’ Day special, which had the audience guessing what medium was used.

After coffee, what’s next for Sunshine Plata? “I’m hoping to try out a different medium–anything organic and anything that stains.”