Saigon, mon amour
Tomorrow, June 1, Max and I should be celebrating our 50th or golden wedding anniversary. Max used to refer to himself as a “cradle snatcher” because I was 17 years old and he was 26 when he first met me. My identity as a fledgling housewife lasted between 1957 to 1967. After I established and developed the O.B. Montessori schools into several branches between 1967 to 1976, he then referred to me as “my commander”. But during Martial Law when he lost his job, he introduced me as “my breadwinner”. Later, he preferred to identify me as “wife number one” especially when he introduced me to businessmen and diplomats.
The wedding at St. Anthony’s Parish Church
I guess because he thought me young and inexperienced, Max did all the wedding preparation, although he allowed me to follow my personal preferences. Besides, he, as the Filipino groom had to shoulder the major expenses.
The first consideration was the number of guests. Then, the hotel venue for the reception. He also let me choose and order my gown, as well as that for my sister as my maid of honor, including bridesmaids and flower girls.
I was chaperoned even on the day before our wedding. Isn’t that incredible? Max never objected, though. But what exasperated him was my tardiness even on our wedding day since I made him wait for half an hour. His collar had blood stains for he nicked himself as he shaved hurriedly to be on time.
The nuptial Mass was held at my parish church, St. Anthony’s at Singalong. Raul Manglapus, his uncle Sixto Brillante, and my college teachers, Dr. Juan Salcedo and Dr. Intengan were the sponsors. Rather close to Max, Mayor Lacson dropped by the church briefly, and once more took a peak later at the reception.
Max made the best arrangements with 150 guests – half and half for both our families and relatives. Our wedding reception was breakfast at the Champagne Room of Manila Hotel. He was rather pissed and harried since Chat Peypoch did our portraits for the photo album right after the Mass in his studio – making the guests wait. Today, no more detours are made to the studio since photo shoot is done in the church.
Our two-bedroom house in Herran
Max built our two-bedroom house behind Mama Soliven’s house in the family compound in Herran. I hosted several small dinners for Max and foreign journalist friends. Being a Nutrition major came in handy, he was very proud of our home and my cooking.
His friends used to tease me because they would go out with Max and come home past
We lived next door to Mama Pelagia. She was a very friendly and thoughtful mother-in-law. She taught me the simple Ilocano recipes while I shared with her European recipes I knew.
Crises
Max shifted journalistic assignments from one newspaper to another. When we got married, the first career shift occurred when he received an award for the expose, The Truth about American Advisers in the
Max worked out another series on the lumber controversies between
Every summer, when Max and I would go to
Incisive character studies of major politicians from the Magsaysay, Garcia, and Macapagal administrations, including the controversial Namarco deals, won him the Ten Outstanding Young Men (TOYM) award sponsored by Caltex. Ninoy Aquino, Flash Elorde and Benito Legarda also received the TOYM at the same time Max did.
Catching the writing fever
In two years, Max and I moved to
I got used to the military state of the country. Every block had a soldier standing guard with an uzi machine gun. Even the daily newspapers had empty spaces where a censored article would have been taken out.
A small community of Filipino engineers lived in
This was the first time I wrote. Max encouraged me, although a little anxious, he edited my first articles. Living in
Chic French ladies, some of them mestizas, were still residing in the city. At the nearby Cap St. Jacques beach, they wore bikinis with ease. Wearing the gossamer ao dai gown with slits up to the waistlines and billowing white pants underneath, they would skim around in their motorbikes with their conical sun hats. They caused the downfall of many Filipino engineers.
My first driver’s license was date-marked
Our first car was a secondhand British Hillman. I learned to drive in an auto school that provided an instructor who taught me to drive in French for very few spoke English. I passed the written exam, but almost failed the practical part. Driving an army jeep, my engine went dead as I turned a corner.
The examiner gave me a failing grade. However, when he found out I was from
Meanwhile, Max was chauffeured every morning in a Citroen French car to office allowing me to use the Hillman car.
Housekeeping in
Mama Pelagia stayed with us a few months. Although we brought Sayong, our Filipino housekeeper, to
I discovered the well-organized and neat Central market, which sold delicious French champignon, duck meat, mustard, Moroccan couscous, and other ingredients for French cuisine. The French restaurants in Rue Catinat, as well as Vietnamese and Chinese restaurants in Cholon competed with one another. (In
Teaching – the ideal profession
I followed the Benedictine nuns’ suggestion about my future as a Filipino woman. First, have a source of income. Then, if possible since one is likely to get married and have children, prepare to work on an interest close to home and the family.
I had a choice of a degree in Medicine or a general Bachelor of Arts, which would allow me a comprehensive preparation for several career options, I decided to take up A.B. For my major, I preferred to focus on a science-based subject. Raised in a family of good cooks, I then decided to major in Nutrition. While four classmates in Nutrition left to do their graduate courses in
When we began to live in
Return to
Foreseeing a coup d’etat, Max did not renew his contract with Vietnam Presse and we returned to
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