Manila Hilton & other 5 - star memories

(Author’s note: This is a nostalgic response to Paulo Alcazaren’s article on the Manila Hilton in the June 16 issue of Philippine STAR’s Modern Living section.)

For Class ’67, what happens next after the diploma has been framed and the borrowed toga returned? "See the world as a flight stewardess." But I was vertically challenged and carrying trays of food while navigating a tiny aisle didn’t exactly appeal to me. I applied anyway.

On the way back from the interview, my friend Maurita Arce saw a big sign at Isaac Peral (before it was renamed UN Avenue) with a huge "MH" logo: "On this site will rise Manila’s most prestigious hotel." Now, you’re talking! Maurita and I exchanged looks, stifled our excitement and headed straight to the site office while dodging electrical sparks and cracks on the wet cement.

Betty Nelle, sweet and petite, saw that we were lost and brought us inside her busy office. With a smile, she ushered us to Marilou Mabilangan’s US office, where she was handling two phone calls – one, obviously from France because she was speaking in flawless French, and the other, from someone of authority because she was translating every word, slowly and meticulously. She hung up the phones simultaneously and looked at us with her big, wide and dark-pencilled eyes. Haltingly I asked, "Ahhh, my friend here and I saw the big sign outside and we were wondering whether you would have any job vacancies? We are fresh graduates and we are willing to learn."

Marilou smiled, "No my dear, we don’t have any opening and we’re not recruiting staff until the hotel is fully completed."

Thinking fast and glancing at Maurita, I swallowed the butterfly that got stuck in my throat (instead of my stomach) and retorted, "What we’re after is the experience. Can we work as trainees for three months and if we are good, you can hire us when the hotel opens?"

Marilou again shook her head but she probably saw the anxiety and strain in our eyes and visibly touched, replied, "This is unprecedented. I have to consult our personnel manager and will get back to you. In the meantime, fill up these application forms, take all the tests and submit the necessary documents." The following week, we started our apprenticeship.

While being briefed by personnel’s Atty. Leonides de Leon, Ed Olivera, Mon Fernandez and Miloy Trinidad, a smiling Chiqui Recio passed by with some press kits. She was working in public relations as assistant to Marla Yotoko. We knew Chiqui from school and were delighted to see her in the same milieu.

I had one qualm. "The name of the general manager is Colgate? Like the toothpaste? Why?"

It didn’t take long before the whole pre-opening staff heard about us. Lita Bueno, in her articulate and effortless style, extended a warm welcome and blocked 30 minutes in her precious appointment book for us to meet the general manager, Mr. Colgate Holmes. His reputation as a stern, no-nonsense workaholic already preceded him and it was a relief to discover that on top of these qualities, he was charming, well-groomed, suave and refined. He was instantly our heartthrob!

We were first assigned to the front desk headed by another heartthrob, Anton Estrada, and his proficient assistant, Narz Lim, and George Limguangco. The front desk was like one big, non-stop soiree where debutantes and eligible bachelors could converge. Anton only screened and hired eloquent, articulate, neat and fine-looking men and women – all single and available! But there was an unwritten law which everyone took as gospel truth: the wooing and the pa-charming should never, ever get in the way of the real work! No one dared.

Soon, our circle of friends expanded. Fe Reyes, a magna cum laude in Journalism, opted to charm our future guests at the reception area instead of through her pen. Celia Silang Cruz with Lolita Dy in the cashier’s office made it superfluous to count the customer’s change because they were both appealing and accurate. One day, a tall Castillian beauty, Marimil Hernandez, swooshed by. She too joined our "family." Brainstorming was a daily occurrence in sales and marketing with Caloy Avecilla and it was in one of these sessions that the novel idea to assign "airport representatives" to meet arriving guests was hatched. It was also a skillful way to pirate guests booked at the other bay hotels. Marimil and Maurita became our airport muses.

In the midst of everything new and exciting, other department heads started arriving to fill up their respective posts. Miss Madsen was the executive housekeeper (we didn’t exactly know what that meant until it was explained that those 200 rooms needed a fussy, exacting woman to keep them squeaky clean, stuffed with fresh linen, and the laundry humming and our uniforms sparkling!). Henri Mahler was the pastry chef who rolled fresh truffles smothered in cocoa powder, Bernd Chorengel was our young and driven assistant food and beverage manager. With names like Shielein, Dilger, Franz, Anglekotter, it was a feat to learn the right pronunciation and where the accents should fall. Rey Maliwanag headed the team of crisply-uniformed bell service and we had the ever-smiling, portly Calixto Trias in engineering.

Part of our training earned for Marilou Mabilangan and Marla Yotoko the unofficial role of "den mothers." They took pleasure in teaching our bunch of neophytes the finer points in proper grooming and behavior. Marla organized tours of museums and historical places ("so you can speak with authority on our country’s history and heritage") while Marilou taught us the different rudiments to project a confident self. ("Walk with head held high and let your voice smile even on the phone.") They were happy to share whatever they knew to turn us into ladies of the first order even if our personal and work experiences had not reached that level yet.

It was a new thing to host cocktails but being young and animated, it was easy to charm and carry a conversation with contacts from the different industries – airline, travel, corporate, diplomatic and hospitality. Carmita Francisco handled special events and never tired of organizing them – or us! By the time the hotel opened, we could rattle off the different fixtures of the hotel and its outlets, not to mention speak with authority on the various specialties of each restaurant and whatever food promotions or festivals we had. Mr. Holmes used to ring us at our desks just to conduct "tests" to make sure we were constantly informed.

Outside the hotel, Isaac Peral was a neat, shady, tree-lined thoroughfare where cars automatically slowed down as a courtesy to pedestrians. Philamlife was the best-maintained office building next to the offices of WHO (World Health Organization) and Manila Doctors Hospital was the hospital for the elite; we preferred to patronize its coffee shop with its unique name, "Talk of the Town."

Ermita had a gentle, people-friendly appeal and we were never abused by honking cars or jeepneys. Cars could be parked across the street at the Luneta without fear of being stolen or vandalized. Women drivers, rare at that time, were treated with utmost courtesy and tolerance. If we grew tired of hotel food, there was the Country Bake Shop, Taza de Oro, Au Bon Vivant, New Europe, Cucina Italiana and Selecta for more tasty and gastronomic alternatives. If we wanted to feed the soul, there was the circular chapel of Ateneo at Padre Faura and the hotel’s very own at the fifth floor.

Paulo Alcazaren said, "Manila Hilton served as an icon of an era." I’d like to add that the people (too many to enumerate) who owned, built, managed, worked and cut their teeth at the Hilton turned out to be the finest in the country, if not the world. This is where we met and made our best friend, best teacher, best mentor, best patron not to mention our best romance(s), best lover, best partner – therefore the best of times. The hotel opened opportunities for travel and tales, significantly enriching our lives. It’s incredible to think that we found a working environment that was free from intrigue, malice and power play. The building is all that’s left of that grand era.

From time to time we, the ex-Hilton gang, hold reunions. We each keep fond and loving memories and it is no surprise that they are so nice and so easy to remember. Except, will someone tell me how dear Mr. Colgate Holmes was named after a toothpaste?