family

When my friends Michal from Poland and K. from Korea arrived in the Philippines, I had the chance to introduce them to my entire extended family. My concept of family is organic and porous: since I was a child, I would spend a few days, or even a few weeks, with an aunt or an uncle on my father's side, and while growing up I lived with various cousins, nephews, and nieces of my mom.

Before climbing the Pinatubo volcano, the three of us spent the night in Village Inn Cabanatuan, a special place. While growing up, I spent summers here learning how to swim in the pool. This was where I recuperated each time my cousin Kuya Dondi and his dentist friend pulled a wisdom tooth: my nurse-aunt, Tita Violy, would then give me arroz caldo (Filipino rice congee) which always made me feel better. As an undergrad, Village Inn was where I nursed a broken heart (though I wasn't aware of it then). It was also where I reviewed for law school's entrance exams (which Prof. Disini said I topped).

At 5 in the morning, seeing the faces of my friends aglow with peace in the inn's garden, I knew that the magic of the place had descended on them too. Later, they would both say it was meeting my family that was the highlight of their trip.

The magic of Village Inn- and perhaps of my experience of Cabanatuan itself- is a product of the love of two people, the hotel's founders Tita Violy and my uncle Tito Doc (shown serving coffee and papaya fruit in the picture taken by Ric Lopez above). It's a love that radiates like the sun to their many relatives and friends, even entire clans and communities.

People would sometimes ask why I'm close to them- especially to Tito Doc- and I think part of the reason is we had the gift of space, both geographical and psychological. One can be blinded or get burnt by staying too near the sun too long. We spent just enough time to enjoy each other's company, appreciate each other's achievements, and look forward to our next get-together.

Tita Violy and Tito Doc are a blessing to me.

When choosing my course and campus as a high school graduate, I sought their advice: my life with its twists and turns, I imagine, would've turned out straighter and much less interesting had they answered my question differently. And after I became a lawyer they helped me rediscover my old avatars of writer and editor, as well as create new ones: photographer, videographer, website designer, and entrepreneur. They had faith that I would excel in anything I set out to do- not because I had already proven myself (oftentimes, they were my first clients in a venture, my angel investors or evangelists), but because they chose to believe in me. I realized myself as an artist- and as a human being- because of their love and imagination, their rare gift of suspending disbelief. Aside from being a refuge, Village Inn became my laboratory for creative projects my project associates and I would later develop on a national and international scale.

One morning after mass in the cathedral that they're helping build- it would be the largest one in Central Luzon when it's completed- I gave them my copy of The Intangibles That Make a Nation Great signed by the author Jovito Salonga. While we were in the car, I thanked them for our adventures- our many happy moments.

Always comfortable giving- I sensed, much more than receiving- they were quiet for some time.

They were already thinking of the next challenge they would give me.