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!

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.

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.”

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.

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.

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.

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.