It all started on a train

By Andrew Jonathan S. Bagaoisan

I did not ride the country’s first Light Rail Transit line in Manila until I reached college, but the LRT fascinated me growing up.

Not just because I haven’t ridden, much less seen, a train before, but more so because I frequently heard about it each August. In a way, it was the reason why I and my siblings are alive.

The story is hardly heard in detail, but we all know the gist—that my parents first met on this train in 1987.

It wasn’t one of those romance plots where at one look, love struck. In fact, as my mom tells it, she was scared that some stalker had taken a fancy on her.

It turned out they both left the Redemptorist Church in Baclaran one Wednesday and boarded the train at the adjacent LRT station.

Ma. Bella Saquido noticed a man eyeing her from an opposite seat. The guy had a companion, so she ignored the gaze. When she got off the train, she found herself being followed by him.

Her walking became brisk before she broke off into a run, but the man caught up with her. Catching his breath, he told her that he just wanted to introduce himself.

He gave her his calling card and left. She was startled when she read it: “Andy P. Bagaoisan, Architect.” It was one of the qualities she had been praying for in a suitor.

Andy, an associate at a retailer of locally-made furniture, was simply struck by the fair-skinned 27-year-old office manager.

But they would not meet again until Mabel’s brother Art arrived from abroad. They were furnishing a house and he was looking for narra fittings. Her store recommendation came instantly.

Aside from finding that he and Art came from the same university, Andy soon learned that courting Mabel also meant courting her conservative Albay-based family.

The son of Ilocano parents from Isabela, he began studying Bicol to gain an edge. It backfired though when it turned out that he learned a slightly different dialect of the tongue.

Nevertheless, his courting gained fruit. Mom says what got to her was seeing dad’s faith. When he visited them, he did not shirk when mom’s father Blas had him lead the rosary.

Soon, the two were engaged, but Andy went abroad to work. So his father Benjamin went down from Isabela for the “pamamanhikan” and met Mabel’s parents for him.

Andy returned for a short period just for the wedding. The place: Ermita Church. The well-chosen date: August 8, 1988. They were both clad in white, both their parents bringing them to the altar, and both of them vowing a promise of love through thick and thin.

My parents’ love story is a journey that flew them half way across the world and back, took them to a deeper faith in God, and brought out their devotion to their vows and to each other.

Their spirituality would define that journey. After all, before they took that train, they were offering separate prayers at a church nearby. Little did they know there was a bigger plan for them.

This August marks my parents’ 25th year as husband and wife, and this story begins my own Agosto series about them (after a friend who pens condensed short stories in Filipino dubbed as such for his blog). A personal way of honoring them in their silver anniversary.

TV Patrol’s big day

By Andrew Jonathan S. Bagaoisan

(Shot by Anjo Bagaoisan)

High up a mountain in Nabuclod, Floridablanca, Pampanga on the night of March 4, six Aeta men mixed cement to fill the foundation where a slab of hardened lahar would stand.

The wind chilled, and the only light came from a blue-head lamp started up by the ABS-CBN technical crew that was also setting up on this upland eco-tourism park.

The 5-foot tall slab lay beside a shallow pit. Embossed on it: “TV Patrol 25,” followed by rows of commemorative text.

“Good thing it took us till night to bring this up here,” said Mae Purificacion, one of two women from ABS-CBN News’ business group who were supervising the work.

“Otherwise, other people here would be taking shots of it way too early.”

The tech crew had already mobbed the slab with photo-ops after it was brought out from a crew cab. But no posting on Facebook yet, they were warned.

They only hoped the cement would harden by morning.

Such was the subtle flurry of activity in the hours counting down to the celebration of TV Patrol’s 25th birthday.

Andrei Felix & Venus Raj (Shot by Anjo Bagaoisan)

The tech team prepped for Umagang Kay Ganda, where hosts Andrei Felix and Venus Raj would ride the park’s zip line and cable car live.

In Manila that night, the people at post-production outfit Acid House ran overtime rendering the new opening billboard (OBB) and segment intros for the special March 5 telecast.

Acee Vitangcol, an ABS-CBN digital strategist put the finishing touches on the timeline of TV Patrol’s Facebook page. It would go public at midnight with photos of the show’s past sets, logos, and reporting moments.

The network was pulling out all the stops for this milestone. After all, TV Patrol was one of the driving forces that propelled ABS-CBN back to ratings leadership in 1988.

On its silver anniversary, the groundbreaking newscast was giving back to the public.

So long, SPISian

My high school would have turned ten today.

It was September 19, 1999 when the Second Philippine International School got a permit from the Saudi education ministry to teach Filipino kids in Riyadh. Then, six Philippine schools operated there.

More schools have opened a decade since. But SPIS has dropped from that list. And it’s not celebrating any 10th anniversary.

Instead, on its old locale in Suleimania District now sits SIS, or the Sovereign International School.

There the same buildings remain, the colors maybe a bit different–before green, white and gold, now I don’t know. Many of the same students still attend, a number of the long-time teachers too.

But they’re no longer called SPISians.

Devoted

Cory and Ninoy: together in life and in death. We might even see them together in our P500s. (Inquirer.net)

Of the many eulogies given former President Cory Aquino this week, one stands to memory. Simply put (was it by Kris or someone else): Our nation found in Tita Cory the qualities it wished for its mothers, and loved her for it.

The first Filipina president’s passing somehow has given Filipinos a chance to think about their own parents. Cory has been honored most with filial titles as “ina ng bayan”, and as “the only true queen we had.”

My mom and her sister fondly remember Cory as their late mother’s lookalike. A teacher by profession, Mama Lola was marked by her curls, wide-framed glasses, and simple smile–akin to the lady in yellow.

I can’t vouch for mom and auntie’s nostalgia, but I find it proof that Tita Cory will best be remembered as an embodiment of our own parents.

In the frequent replays of Cory’s story during the marathon TV coverage, it’s her devotion to her husband and children that never fails mention.

We hear how she dutifully stood by Ninoy Aquino’s side when he was jailed and exiled. How she stood strong for her children when Ninoy was killed. And how as Citizen Cory, she still kept watch over her offspring’s lives and careers.

Among her virtues, it is love that marks her for many. Her bunso Kris tearfully told all last Wednesday how Ninoy was “the only man she ever loved.”

Then, in the August rain, my mind goes to my mother.