This Halloween post was posted originally on October 26 2006.

halloweenIt was my dear husband who reminded me to dress up the little girls into witches for Halloween. “Halloween?” I thought Halloween was only done in the Western countries. ” Yes you have to dress them up as witches”. As a little boy in the late sixties, he pranced around the neighborhood begging for candies and yelling “Trick or Treat” . According to him, the Halloween “Trick or Treat” originated in the Philippines in the sixties when the Americans living in the village started the tradition. In the early nineties, Halloween was not yet commercialized. The Trick or Treat was limited to Ayala Land villages, where most American expatriates lived. There were a few masks and simple decors in National Book store but that was it. No costumes. I had to be creative. I designed a witch costume with yellow piping and a dressmaker executed it. A balikbayan sister from San Francisco brought in the hat, the candy corn candies, the fangs gum for props.

2.jpgWe drove all the way to visit the kid’s grandparents in Alabang just for the spooky Halloween experience. As usual, the beaming stage mother dressed up her adorable girls as cute little witches. The Trick or Treat party at the club was fantastic. The kids were dressed in typical Halloween costumes like vampires, ghosts, witches, and devils or even pumpkins.The eerie decors added to the thrilling experience.

halloweenThe Trick or Treat adventure in this swanky Alabang village is something else. The houses compete with each other on the scariest theme. Most of these houses had tricks. In one house, the kids were terrified of the candle-lit pathway that led to a vampire rocking on the chair. Complete with spine-tingling music as you walk towards the vampire, it even freaked me out. Four year old M scurried as soon as she saw the ghoulish figure. For many years, the girls spent their Halloween with their grandparents in this Alabang village until Luijoe arrived in our lives.

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A woman is the full circle.
Within her is the power to create, nurture and transform. ~ Diane Mariechild ~


Rica and I go back when we were little kids romping around the school grounds of St. Theresa’s College Cebu. I thought we graduated in the same high school. It dawned on me that we had not seen each other for the last forty years but I remember her so well. Childhood memories can be so vivid. My memory fails me now but I knew there was something we had shared together in the past.


Rica is somewhere to the left and I am somewhere to the right

Thanks to Facebook, Rica found me at about the time I made plans to visit my daughter in Melbourne. What a treat I had the other day. There were just so many things to catch up. Memories to unravel. Amidst the sights and sounds of Melbourne, our stories unfolded. True, our memories may fail us now but our hearts remember as we spent the day together.

A cruise along the Yarra river of Melbourne.

Seeing Melbourne’s development.

Catching sight of the penguins by the rock.

Having lunch by the South bank

Stop to smell the flowers

It is good to wake up and smell the flowers while listening to classical music.

The stroll to the Fitzroy gardens stirred a memory.

I turned to Rica “Weren’t we mediocre students?” We laughed together, remarking how silly we were for not studying hard enough.

There you go, we had something in common back when we were little kid but not today. Rica and I evolved from being mediocre to doing what we love best. Something in her life touched me which I will just keep to myself.

Her sculpture “Joyfully Onwards and Upwards” won first prize for the amateur division. Amazing! Rica reminded me “Amatuer”. Still, I would never be able to sculpt like that. I never knew she had artistic talents. It must have been a latent gift.

We talked about the symbolism of her sculpture. It reminds me of the struggle to pass the Reproductive Health bill. Women need to have choices. Rica believes that women can empower themselves to go outwardly and move up. Both of us believe that one has to honor and treating ourselves with respect so that we set the stage up for others to treat us with respect. The sculpture also reminds me of the lives and passion we have chosen. Rica, on paying forward by helping women get an education.

I too believe that women need to challenge themselves. Margaret Sanger once said “Woman must not accept; she must challenge. She must not be awed by that which has been built up around her; she must reverence that woman in her which struggles for expression.” It can come in art, writing, advocacy, business or anything that she can be.

I asked if I could use the image of her sculpture so I could show to the world about the potential of women, that it is never too late to get out of mediocrity no matter the age or circumstance. I wanted to sit down at the hotel and write about my day with Rica.

But guess what? Rica got to me first. She painted this and entitled it “Noemi”. I am so honored.

She did this for me. I felt a tug in my heart. My heart can only sing praises she will never hear.

I wonder how she painted this. All I know is splatter paint. In her facebook note, she added this “piece will always remind me of your beautiful and lovely personality.. it connotes warmth and vibrance. I love your story and what you have done with your life.”

I don’t know who deserves the title of a “a very beautiful and warm person” . I know we all have that capacity.

Oh yes we can, “joyfully Onwards and Upwards”.

I love you Rica. Thank you for a wonderful day. Till we meet again.

The Groovies, my high school classmates (circa St Theresa’s College Cebu 1974) once again got into the groove of bonding moments. There were reasons to celebrate. Our class salutatorian, Deirdra came home from New Jersey for a visit. Birthday celebrants needed to make a wish and the groovies from Manila missed Cebu. You know, I look forward to these small reunions. Groovies remind me that we are still cool and awesome despite the passage of time. I draw inspiration from classmates that still manage to look good.

Marget Fernan-Villarica not only hosted the party but our stay as well in her lovely, comfy home. Our current president, Nerissa Soon-Ruiz gave this brilliant idea of auctioning off our give-aways to raise funds for our batch project. What fun!

Tess, the preceding batch president told me to write an article for our Coral reunion last year. It is only this year that I got to read the printed version of the STC Annual 2009.

Here it is:

Is there life after high school? To be honest, I was relieved when my high school graduation ceremony ended. In high school, I was a painfully shy, mediocre student with average grades (as in 81 to 85). I often felt intimidated by the smart and outspoken girls. You know how it is in high school – there are the popular girls and the invisible girls. I was one of the invisible girls but I was lucky enough to have a few friends who made me feel like I belonged to a group.

So do people ever recover from that intense high school social experience? Some don’t. They spend the rest of their lives trying to justify what they were, or were not, in high school. This is why high school reunions are so emotional, especially the first one. I declined to attend the 25th High School class of 1974 reunion because I was not ready to face that dreaded high school experience once again. Coupled with five deaths of family members in Cebu, I felt Cebu was just bad news for me and going home was not an option at that point.
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The difficulty with marriage is that we fall in love with a personality, but must live with a character. ~Peter Devries

At the heart of this farm, there lies a gazebo and lovely patios where my husband I sat under the gentle canopies of stately mango trees, some of which are over 50 years old! We revel even more at the elegance of this veritable tree garden, teeming with a multitude of capiz drop lights and strategically placed spotlights that dramatically emphasize the features of mango trees.

Holding hands, we strolled the farm and stopped under a mango tree. I laid my head on his shoulder, “This is it”.

“Let’s celebrate our silver anniversary here”. My ever romantic husband pressed his lips at the back of my palm and agreed, of course. That was two years ago with a budget fit for semi-grand anniversary celebration. We had also moved in to our new cozy home near this farm.

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I want to bring out all kinds of things that lie buried deep in my heart. Anne Frank

The aftermath of the Best Friends Forever Reunion left me in a contemplative mood for days. Friends remarked that I was quiet, conservative and feminine in the past so the revelation of “a true confession” caused jaw-dropping looks. At a high school reunion, I laughed when former teachers thought I was Lorna, my elder sister. What a forgettable student I was! I don’t blame them. It was true anyway. Looking at myself today, I don’t recognize the person I once was. Still, I thought of checking out that forgettable person and affirm the good that is happening in my life today.

best-friends-forever
Best Friends Forever Reunion 2009

I unearthed my “baul”, a box full of treasured memories like old photos, memorabilia and diaries written since I was 10 years old. During the reunion, I confessed to the ex that I still kept the diary during the years we were together. Horrified, he told me to dispose of it. I shrugged. It was the past, nothing incriminating and everything written was pure and innocent. For some reason, I should have thrown it when I got married. I dumped all the letters, gifts and photos in the trash bin but I kept the diaries. Now I know why I didn’t throw the diaries. No, it was not to reminisce the memories of first love and that of my ex-boyfriend now my husband.

I pulled my diaries out from the cobwebs of the musty “baul” and began to leaf through the pages, now yellowed after 34 years. For the next few days, I poured over the poignant memories. I’m not a very profound writer and I scribbled about things I did that day or week with my family, my boyfriend or my groupies. Both things of significance and not. My diary detailed the life of my family when we were still complete. My mom, already sick of breast cancer in 1975 suddenly came alive in the stories I wrote about her. My departed siblings, Oscar and Ruben ,the clowns of the family and my dad sprang to life as I read the “Dear Diary” entries. I felt a tugging in my heart,a deep longing for my departed loved ones as I got transported back to 1975. For one brief moment, images of their smiles and antics kept me in a cheerful mood.

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The most beautiful discovery true friends make is that they can grow separately without growing apart. ~Elisabeth Foley

upcebu74-78
UP College Cebu , 1974

My mediocre grades in high school were not enough to qualify me to the UP Diliman Campus. I was determined to take up college in Manila to gain independence from my sheltered life in Cebu and of course, get the BS Food Technology that was only offered there. I studied in UP College Cebu (UPCC) in 1974 for one year before moving to UP DIliman campus in my sophomore year where I finally got a 1.75 grade to qualify. I look back to my freshman year with a smile and a soft spot in my heart. Indeed a memorable year for me because it was the first time I gained a little freedom to be with friends and to socialize with guys after graduating from an all-girls school since kindergarten. I felt I finally belonged to a group that truly cared and loved me and by fate (via Dicoy’s Cupid machinations), my best friend became my first boyfriend, my first love for the next 3 or so years.

Reunions are inevitable and I declined the invitation just as I did with my high school reunions. My attitude towards reunions changed in the recent years after I evolved into a better person. I then became curious of my friends. What had become of them? I felt something missing in my life and wanted to reconnect with my past. This change of heart did not augur well with my husband. He didn’t understand why I needed to see my old friends (when he himself does not attend reunions) and in the process, “meet” my ex-boyfriend. Hugging my husband, I reassured him that it is all in the past. I cannot help it if he was my classmate, part of my barkada but I am there for my other friends. For goodness sake, it’s been like 31 years? I rolled my eyes as “Batman” retreated to his cave.

upcc74
Freshman Year, UP College of Cebu 1974. Guess where I am?

I know it sounds like a cheesy Sharon Cuneta movie, but our group coined “Best Friends Forever” as the group name for the UP Cebu College 1974-1978 alumni.
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“I bet in high school, everybody made somebody’s life hell.”
Romy and Michele’s High School Reunion (1997) – Michele Weinberger (Lisa Kudrow)

high-school-reunion-stc-cebu
View of St. Theresa’s College (STC) Cebu grounds

Is there life after high school? Truth is, I hated high school and because I hated it so much, I made sure that I would turn my life around and be a better and confident person in college. I exuded negativity. Oh my gosh, I was ecstatic when the high school graduation ceremony ended. I jumped up with joy. I couldn’t wait to fly and spread my wings. In high school, I was painfully shy and a mediocre student with average grades ( as in 83 to 85). I felt intimidated by the mestizas and the smart and outspoken girls. You know how it is in high school, you find the popular clique and the invisible clique. I was basically invisible. Thanks to my best friend Teresa, Patsy, Linell and a few others, I think I belonged somehow to a group. Without them, high school would have been one hell of an experience. Thanks buddies.

high-school-friends
Hugs to my bestest of friends in High School who took me in their clique: Patsy, Linell, me, Teresa

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I didn’t plan to write this entry just yet as I am saddled with a backlog of other blog posts that I thought were more relevant. In fact, this event I am about to elaborate transpired a week ago. Old news, I pondered. But something happened just now as I poured over the photos I took last week and I am so touched.

See, a week ago, Kenny Tabayocyoc, a council member of Kamia Residence Hall at the UP Diliman Campus invited me to be their guest speaker for (Thank God It’s Summer), A Tropical Confluence Dinner. Part of the program is an inspirational message to be given by an alumnae of the dorm. Of course, I wanted to help them out. After all, Kamia was my first home away from home. I felt like traversing on a trip down memory lane. It wasn’t a convenient date though. I had to leave by 7:00 PM because it was Lauren’s 23rd birthday celebration. Things don’t always happen as planned. Rains delayed the program that was slated at the Kamia parking lot and the organizers were busy setting up the tables and chairs.

While waiting for the program to start, Kenny brought me inside Kamia Residence Hall for the first time in many years. The tile floors by the door looked worn from the passage of time as thousands of footwear scrubbed the tile color down to a grayish slab of cement. Wasn’t it 33 years ago since I last stepped foot at the door? I saw that a phone booth still hangs by the wall and today there are two. I clearly remember those days when a queue formed as residents tried to make a call. I remember the dagger looks aimed at this one resident who kept yakking away ignoring the queue of girls awaiting their turn to whisper sweet nothings to their steadies.

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Hi everyone! This is Lauren ghost writi- I mean, guest blogging for my mom today. I wasn’t actually planning on attending the UP Lantern Parade yesterday but since I had activist things to attend to at Vinzon’s Hall, I figured I’d stick around and take a couple of photos. Plus, I’ve never been able to catch the lantern parade; I tried to when I was in college, but my classes would end too late and I’d get there only to reach the tail end of the parade. This year, as you all know, is UP’s Centennial anniversary and the 2008 lantern parade is supposed to be a bigger spectacle than the previous ones. I’m not sure what time it ended, but the parade was still far from over when I left at around 7.

My first mistake was bringing a point and shoot camera instead of my mom’s DSLR. Despite the crowd, I was able to take fairly decent pictures of the first few lanterns but my photos started getting progressively crappier as the sky got darker.

Palma Hall was too crowded for me to get a decent view of anything, so I walked over to the front of the Faculty Center where I could still worm my way up to the front.

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Meet Casey, one of the first generation net kids. If you have read my daughter’s blog (then online journal) when it started in 1996, then you might have met Casey in a few of her entries. Casey is not his real name. I first met Casey and a few of my daughter’s online friends in 1996 because I was an internet safety head of World Kids Network. Back when modems were cranking screeching noises and webpages screaming with blinking fonts, I was a Web 1.0 designer where I built hand-coded HTML pages as the structure to house the content of our websites. I didn’t have an online journal. I thought it was for kids. Lauren and Casey were one of the few kids that started an online journal in 1996.

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