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Jalan-Jalan with Jerwin in Singapore

Jalan-Jalan with Jerwin in Singapore
Photo by Jerwin Allen Malabanan
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Thursday, July 24, 2014

In Marinduque (Wednesday, July 23, 2014)


Wednesday, July 23, 2014




The sky is overcast, but there is no rain. Typhoon Henry blew over Laguna and Quezon last night, and is on its way out of the PAR. The typhoon spared Marinduque.

It is windy and the birds fly low, close to the ground. The resident dogs run in from the shore.

I love cloudy skies and beaches. They stimulate me. The sea beckons, "Come, let me take you in my arms." I recall that I was once embraced by a storm when I was 22. A wealthy matron commissioned me to conduct therapy for her autistic, nine-year-old son in her beach house in Batangas--but, as soon as we arrived, a super typhoon blew over. We had no power and no running water. We were stranded there five days.



Last night I slept well. The majordomo sent a big soft pillow to my cottage on top of the two pillows that are already there. I adore white sheets and pillowcases, though I dislike owning them because they are impossible to maintain. Like silver, they tarnish both with use and in storage.

Ninety midwives are scheduled to attend a three-day seminar in the hotel. Two cottages have been booked by the organizers for participants who live too far from Gasan.

The majordomo comes to my table to greet me while I am having breakfast. I am having Lucban sausage for the first time. It is meaty, filled with garlic, and salty. I am probably one of the few Filipinos who do not take local sausages for granted. Whenever I am visiting a new place for the first time I make it a point to have the local sausage at least once.

Paul Bowles would have loved this hotel. The few characters there are include the majordomo, a female front desk assistant, two boys, and a cook. All of them remind me of Bowles's novel The Spider's House.

There are more staff members today, however, mostly waiters, because of the midwives' seminar.



My own, two-day workshop, "Writing from The Heart" for battered women and abused children, commences in Boac. There are as many observers as there are participants. I conduct some exercises that require the participation of the female police officers who are in charge of the victims' cases, and of four male interns who are enrolled in Law Enforcement and Management at Marinduque State College.






































Mayda buys Marinduque rice cakes for tea. They are delicious.




The facade of our workshop venue, which I take a snapshot of before getting into the car at the end of the day.



After office hours, Mayda takes me downtown to meet Arnold, whom I have been in touch long before I was scheduled to visit Marinduque. Arnold was the owner of my second Morion mask-a little boy's mask. His son was ten years old then. Now that he is a teenager, Arnold sold off the mask to me so that he could have a new one made for his son.

I am visiting him today because he has decided to sell his own mask and have a new one made for himself. The deal is too hard to resist. I like Moriones masks that tell stories. I now have a pair of father-and-son masks.



With Randolph, the former owner of my very first Morion mask. He also upgraded to a fiercer-looking mask. I bought his old mask months before I even learned that Arnold would sell his two masks.

Both Randolph and Arnold are membes of Guardians, a volunteer group that assists the military and the police.












Mayda takes me to Mogpog, where we visit a senior woodcarver at his residence.



Horse tails



Wooden masks in progress









The woodcarver's son



At the Municipal Hall of Mogpog there is the framed, antique vestment of the image of Saint Isidore the Farmer.

The Mayor of Mogpog has a huge collection of traditional Moriones masks.



This antique mask is called a Morion Bulaklakan. It is not a centurion mask. Its facial expression is neutral, and its headgear is abundantly decorated with flowers made of paper and foil.




A friendly chat with the Mayor's younger brother, who is the Municipal Administrator of Mogpog.



2014 calendar featuring antique houses in Mogpog




The Municipal Hall is replete with oil paintings by Antonio Calma. I suddenly remembered that Calma is a favorite of many American officers. We tried to trace him once but failed to locate him. None of the museums, art galleries, and art agents knew where he was. We even suspected that no such person ever existed, and that artists who painted in his popular style were simply using his name.

The Mayor's brother assures me that Antonio Calma exists--he is their family friend. Calma apparently married a woman from Marinduque. He currently resides in Mexico, Pampanga.



With the Mayor of Mogpog



The Mayor's tarp above the entrance to the Municipal Hall



The Mayor very kindly provides us an escort in a vehicle to visit a woodcarver of religious statues in Mogpog. This bird of paradise in bloom grows in front of his compound by the roadside.



With the woodcarver of religious statues of Mogpog




In the woodcarver's studio









With the president of the Mogpog Moriones Association and the woodcarver of religious statues



Sunset over Mogpog



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