When in Lucban
May 24, 2004 | 12:00am
Success, they say, has many fathers (and mothers), and in the case of UP sophomore Patricia Evangelista – who emerged champion in the recent International Public Speaking Competition held by the English Speaking Union in London – I’m proud to have been one of her many Papas. The others included my fellow Philippine STAR columnist Krip Yuson who was ESU-Philippines steering committee chairman before me, poet Dr. Jimmy Abad who helped Krip and me in coaching Tricia on her speech, former Ambassador to the UK Cesar Bautista who has been pushing for our formal entry into the ESU, and Pilipinas Shell CEO Ed Chua, who donated Tricia’s plane ticket to London. Let’s also mention and thank at least one Mama – British Council director Gill Westaway, who helped us select Tricia from a group of about a dozen finalists representing major Philippine universities, and then helped Tricia secure her visa.
In my book, Patricia’s feat – besting 59 other entrants from the English-speaking world in the very heart of that world – rates higher than anything Pinoys could ever do on American Idol or in the boxing ring, without meaning in any way to denigrate Jasmine Trias and Manny Pacquiao. (I watched the Pacquiao fight, but in fairness to Jasmine, I must be the only Pinoy on the face of the earth who hasn’t sat through an entire episode of the show, which had everyone else at home transfixed for the duration of Jasmine’s abortive ascent. Strangely enough, I don’t feel one bit impoverished by this oversight.)
My awe must come from my own juvenile forays into public speaking – or "declamation," as people my age will remember it from their grade-school days. There was a time when every self-respecting boy (and maybe girl, although we didn’t have a clue about what happened behind the walls of those all-girl schools) had to memorize staples like Patrick Henry’s "Give me liberty, or give me death" speech and Marc Antony’s "Friends, Romans, countrymen, lend me your ears" tribute to Julius Caesar. Sometimes we put on senators’ "togas" (white cotton bedsheets filched from the linen closet) and squeezed ketchup onto "Caesar" when we had to act out the full Romanesque tableau and get that "Et tu, Brute?" feeling exactly right.
Rote memorization had its rewards – it impressed the heck out of the ladies (or so we imagined) in later years when it looked like we could quote Shakespeare out of the ether – but its challenges paled next to extemporaneous public speaking, which was the real test of the true bolero, of one’s bokadura, that uncanny ability that some gifted people had to convince others that they really knew what they were talking about even if they’d thought about it for only three minutes. It seemed the perfect preparation for aspiring politicians and demagogues. (And true enough, quite a number of the fellows I encountered at the typical "Voice of Democracy" contest went on to become lawyers, commentators, and yes, columnists.)
But it’s no joke standing before a crowd of strangers to speak your mind on issues of great (in Tricia’s case, of global) import, trying very hard not to look or sound like a fool. Way to go, Tricia!
The first time we went to Lucban for the Pahiyas festival must have been
almost ten years ago, and we were lucky then to be able to hitch a ride on a politician’s Superbus – a double-decker monster van complete with a pantry – that had to be parked on a ricefield. This time, with just my mom and Beng for company, I toyed with the idea of driving over in my "new" (seven-year-old, but recently acquired) Vitara, but good sense prevailed and we rented a van and driver for the day.
The Pahiyas is one of those Maytime festivals – the street dancing in Obando and the kneeling carabaos in Pulilan are two others that come to mind – that every Pinoy should experience at least once in his or her life, just for the sheer exhilaration of being part of a community celebration. The paper-thin, rice-based kiping that the local folk craft into leaves and flowers descends from a ritual offering to the gods (actually, the frailes) in thanksgiving for a bountiful harvest, and the spirit and the substance of plenitude remain, in the doors and windows bedecked by vegetables and sheaves of grain.
When in Lucban for the Pahiyas, there are three things you must do:
1. Try the pancit Lucban (otherwise known as pancit habhab), which you can find on any streetcorner for about P5 a serving (I was going say "P5 a plate," but that would have been a gross misrepresentation, as you’ll see why). It’s a no-frills version of pancit canton, and while I’m a miki-bihon man myself (none better than at Maxim’s at the Megamall), I can relate to the minimalist or purist appeal of habhab, which is served on a square of banana leaf and is meant to be eaten habhab-style – straight off the banana leaf with your greasy snout, no fork, no hands.
You can take pancit Lucban home in dry packets or visit a resto named Buddy’s that reportedly serves it somewhere in Makati (a company called www.pinoygoodies.com even sells pancit Lucban on-line), but the best way to take it is still in situ, and in the way that earned for it its other moniker. A worthy companion to the pancit is Lucban longanisa, a crowd-pleaser of a sausage; I remain partial to the sharper and spicier Vigan variety, but I’ll take Lucban’s version anytime over the mushy Vienna sausages I must confess to picking out of the can in the pit of my carnivorous cravings.
2. Buy a straw hat. The area is famous for its hats – not surprising in a region ruled by palms – and you’ll find the lot of them displayed in a dozen booths at the Pahiyas. I’ve had something of a fancy for hats, a fancy I developed as a grad student in the chilly Midwest and now made even more necessary by inexorable hair loss. I’ve long lamented the passing of our hat-wearing days, and I must be one of few Pinoys with a real hat rack at home, festooned with fedoras (and VW- and Apple-logoed baseball caps). I’ve been looking for ages for a Panama-style straw hat to replace one I had years ago, but I’ve always had a problem finding an XXL-size one to fit my, uhm, swollen cranium.
This visit to Lucban landed me that rarity: A nice, finely woven hat that actually fit, all for the tawad price of P180 (for that price, I bought two); the ladies came away happily with hats in the P35 range.
3. Enjoy the folk art, and maybe even take home a bouquet of kiping. After a visit to the church (Pahiyas is also the feast of San Isidro Labrador), we stumbled on a wonderful display of papier-mache masks at a shop nearby called Annie’s, named after its owner, Annie Salvatus. Annie’s son Mark – a winner in the Petron and Shell art competitions, among other distinctions – made the masks himself, and the house is a virtual gallery of both folk and modern art. Mark’s father recounted how his late father, Ramon Sr., had named the Pahiyas festival during his long tenure as Lucban’s municipal secretary. We had come to Lucban not really knowing anyone – not the best way to visit a fiesta – but we came away having made new friends of the Salvatuses, and can look forward to partaking of their sumptuous spread in coming years.
A word of caution: Come very early (we didn’t), or be prepared to leave your car on the roadside out of town and to walk the rest of the way (we did, but took a tricycle at some point); the parking can be horrendous, and even the early birds who find parking in town can find it difficult to squeeze their way out as the day wears on.
And then again, half the fun is getting there; we took the picturesque and often zigzag lakeshore route on the Rizal side, via Antipolo, Morong, Mabitac, Siniloan, Paete, and Pagsanjan. That’s a festival unto itself, a day trip you can still make in this rapidly vanishing summer.
He never went to UP, but his wife Angeli Pangilinan did, and that’s good enough a reason for Gary Valenciano to sing at the 2004 UP General Alumni-Faculty Homecoming and Reunion, dubbed "Ugong sa Pistahan." Angeli (BSBA ’79) will be a silver jubilarian.
The University of the Philippines Alumni Association (UPAA) under president Jimmy de los Santos is inviting all alumni to this celebration on June 26, Saturday, 4 p.m. at Ang Bahay ng Alumni, that Quonset hut-inspired half-moon building in UP Diliman. The 2004 Jubilarians – graduates of Class ‘44 (diamond), Class ‘54 (golden), Class ‘64 (ruby) and Class ‘79 (silver) – will present special performances.
The day before, on the 25th, the traditional UP Alumni Council meeting – a more academic and always thought-provoking session – will be held in the morning starting at 8:30 in the same venue, continuing last year’s discussion on "Population and Education." The speakers will include Dr. (and Congressman) Nereus Acosta, Education Undersecretary Ramon Bacani, and Dr. Corazon Raymundo of the UP Population Institute. See you there!
Send e-mail to Butch Dalisay at penmanila@yahoo.com.
In my book, Patricia’s feat – besting 59 other entrants from the English-speaking world in the very heart of that world – rates higher than anything Pinoys could ever do on American Idol or in the boxing ring, without meaning in any way to denigrate Jasmine Trias and Manny Pacquiao. (I watched the Pacquiao fight, but in fairness to Jasmine, I must be the only Pinoy on the face of the earth who hasn’t sat through an entire episode of the show, which had everyone else at home transfixed for the duration of Jasmine’s abortive ascent. Strangely enough, I don’t feel one bit impoverished by this oversight.)
My awe must come from my own juvenile forays into public speaking – or "declamation," as people my age will remember it from their grade-school days. There was a time when every self-respecting boy (and maybe girl, although we didn’t have a clue about what happened behind the walls of those all-girl schools) had to memorize staples like Patrick Henry’s "Give me liberty, or give me death" speech and Marc Antony’s "Friends, Romans, countrymen, lend me your ears" tribute to Julius Caesar. Sometimes we put on senators’ "togas" (white cotton bedsheets filched from the linen closet) and squeezed ketchup onto "Caesar" when we had to act out the full Romanesque tableau and get that "Et tu, Brute?" feeling exactly right.
Rote memorization had its rewards – it impressed the heck out of the ladies (or so we imagined) in later years when it looked like we could quote Shakespeare out of the ether – but its challenges paled next to extemporaneous public speaking, which was the real test of the true bolero, of one’s bokadura, that uncanny ability that some gifted people had to convince others that they really knew what they were talking about even if they’d thought about it for only three minutes. It seemed the perfect preparation for aspiring politicians and demagogues. (And true enough, quite a number of the fellows I encountered at the typical "Voice of Democracy" contest went on to become lawyers, commentators, and yes, columnists.)
But it’s no joke standing before a crowd of strangers to speak your mind on issues of great (in Tricia’s case, of global) import, trying very hard not to look or sound like a fool. Way to go, Tricia!
The Pahiyas is one of those Maytime festivals – the street dancing in Obando and the kneeling carabaos in Pulilan are two others that come to mind – that every Pinoy should experience at least once in his or her life, just for the sheer exhilaration of being part of a community celebration. The paper-thin, rice-based kiping that the local folk craft into leaves and flowers descends from a ritual offering to the gods (actually, the frailes) in thanksgiving for a bountiful harvest, and the spirit and the substance of plenitude remain, in the doors and windows bedecked by vegetables and sheaves of grain.
When in Lucban for the Pahiyas, there are three things you must do:
1. Try the pancit Lucban (otherwise known as pancit habhab), which you can find on any streetcorner for about P5 a serving (I was going say "P5 a plate," but that would have been a gross misrepresentation, as you’ll see why). It’s a no-frills version of pancit canton, and while I’m a miki-bihon man myself (none better than at Maxim’s at the Megamall), I can relate to the minimalist or purist appeal of habhab, which is served on a square of banana leaf and is meant to be eaten habhab-style – straight off the banana leaf with your greasy snout, no fork, no hands.
You can take pancit Lucban home in dry packets or visit a resto named Buddy’s that reportedly serves it somewhere in Makati (a company called www.pinoygoodies.com even sells pancit Lucban on-line), but the best way to take it is still in situ, and in the way that earned for it its other moniker. A worthy companion to the pancit is Lucban longanisa, a crowd-pleaser of a sausage; I remain partial to the sharper and spicier Vigan variety, but I’ll take Lucban’s version anytime over the mushy Vienna sausages I must confess to picking out of the can in the pit of my carnivorous cravings.
2. Buy a straw hat. The area is famous for its hats – not surprising in a region ruled by palms – and you’ll find the lot of them displayed in a dozen booths at the Pahiyas. I’ve had something of a fancy for hats, a fancy I developed as a grad student in the chilly Midwest and now made even more necessary by inexorable hair loss. I’ve long lamented the passing of our hat-wearing days, and I must be one of few Pinoys with a real hat rack at home, festooned with fedoras (and VW- and Apple-logoed baseball caps). I’ve been looking for ages for a Panama-style straw hat to replace one I had years ago, but I’ve always had a problem finding an XXL-size one to fit my, uhm, swollen cranium.
This visit to Lucban landed me that rarity: A nice, finely woven hat that actually fit, all for the tawad price of P180 (for that price, I bought two); the ladies came away happily with hats in the P35 range.
3. Enjoy the folk art, and maybe even take home a bouquet of kiping. After a visit to the church (Pahiyas is also the feast of San Isidro Labrador), we stumbled on a wonderful display of papier-mache masks at a shop nearby called Annie’s, named after its owner, Annie Salvatus. Annie’s son Mark – a winner in the Petron and Shell art competitions, among other distinctions – made the masks himself, and the house is a virtual gallery of both folk and modern art. Mark’s father recounted how his late father, Ramon Sr., had named the Pahiyas festival during his long tenure as Lucban’s municipal secretary. We had come to Lucban not really knowing anyone – not the best way to visit a fiesta – but we came away having made new friends of the Salvatuses, and can look forward to partaking of their sumptuous spread in coming years.
A word of caution: Come very early (we didn’t), or be prepared to leave your car on the roadside out of town and to walk the rest of the way (we did, but took a tricycle at some point); the parking can be horrendous, and even the early birds who find parking in town can find it difficult to squeeze their way out as the day wears on.
And then again, half the fun is getting there; we took the picturesque and often zigzag lakeshore route on the Rizal side, via Antipolo, Morong, Mabitac, Siniloan, Paete, and Pagsanjan. That’s a festival unto itself, a day trip you can still make in this rapidly vanishing summer.
The University of the Philippines Alumni Association (UPAA) under president Jimmy de los Santos is inviting all alumni to this celebration on June 26, Saturday, 4 p.m. at Ang Bahay ng Alumni, that Quonset hut-inspired half-moon building in UP Diliman. The 2004 Jubilarians – graduates of Class ‘44 (diamond), Class ‘54 (golden), Class ‘64 (ruby) and Class ‘79 (silver) – will present special performances.
The day before, on the 25th, the traditional UP Alumni Council meeting – a more academic and always thought-provoking session – will be held in the morning starting at 8:30 in the same venue, continuing last year’s discussion on "Population and Education." The speakers will include Dr. (and Congressman) Nereus Acosta, Education Undersecretary Ramon Bacani, and Dr. Corazon Raymundo of the UP Population Institute. See you there!
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