This post was a long time in coming, but due to a second surprise bout with COVID-19 congesting my sinuses while freeing up my days to do some Holy Week reflecting (or, as a favourite professor once called it, ruminating) I may as well hit the ground running.
As an erratic Catholic, I normally try to follow the annual Holy Week reflections posted on the Pins of Light blog/website, run by Philippine Jesuit priest Johnny C. Go, SJ. Today, Holy Thursday (Maundy Thursday in older English translations), is all about Jesus' last meal with His 12 apostles, with the word "apostle" being translated both loosely and tightly as "trusted companion." Because many Holy Thursday services traditionally mark that meal with much drama, notably the washing of the feet and the founding of the Sacrament of Holy Communion, this year's reflection asks participants to place their focus on the events surrounding the meal itself. Imagine being huddled in that room, wondering why your Teacher-turned-friend seems to be urgently trying to bring everyone together for dinner. Imagine being Jesus, trying to buy time and make some good memories with this motley crew who have professed a "ride or die" attitude, and knowing this same attitude will sadly be put to the wringer in just a few hours, at a solid 180 degrees in fact.
This reflection has helped me realise my own thwarted opportunity for the "perfect" last meal. When I was getting ready to move in April and May 2019 I tried to bring the numerous groups of people I loved all together into what has since become my last big meal in Manila, and I failed miserably. Because I was moving to get married abroad (in a civil arrangement, because my spouse is a self-professed agnostic whose heart and soul I still pray for even as the hope of a church wedding continues to fade in a country that doesn't recognise the Son of God among its immigrants and prisoners), it was supposed to be a huge yet casual despedida de soltera, that grand rite of passage many Asian Hispanic women like me celebrate before getting married. I was hoping to enjoy lechon and spaghetti with hard-boiled eggs in the company of all my dearest friends and esteemed colleagues, both old and new. In my head, there would be videoke, dancing and lots of wine.
 |
As close to representative as I'll ever get! From left to right: Diana (high school friend), Jac (waifu) and her spouse Eric (cosplay), Cherry (church), Jedi (in the Sith mask, Days), Ceejay (waifu), Jannie (standing beside Ceejay, cosplay), Aileen (high school), Khat (HiddlesPilipinas), Tere (HiddlesPilipinas). Ceejay prepared peach soju mixes. Most of them brought food. Taken by my long-time housekeeper Jing on 04 May 2019.
What actually happened was that, ended up dividing my time meeting different groups of different friends across different days because nobody could make it all at the same time. Many stories were shared, and not all about me; it became a good excuse for all of us to catch up with each other, and for those who were meeting for the first time to get to know one another with additional commonalities based off of having already known me. And ultimately all of the events were potluck in nature with most everyone bringing all sorts of shareable food — mostly Filipino or Filipino-style, at least, but some were European, like Cibo and the Hello Kitty Parisienne-style Cafe. While we at least did have a few bottles of soju mixed with Yakult, I have frankly never eaten so many homemade, love-filled cookies in my life.  | | Pahabol! My cousin Jason and my friend Toni (also from cosplay) arrived at the tail end of the 04 May 2019 party, close to midnight. Toni brought cookies. Kuya brought his motorcycle and all his best hugs. |
|
It did cross my mind that the crowd I had back in 2019 was considerably smaller than the legions of friends and acquaintances I knew and mingled with prior to 2016. (God, that year was such a game-changer for me: in a horrible mimic of the Sorrowful Mysteries and the Passion of Christ, I learned from friends that my sister was arrested through the news. In subsequent days, the traditional and digital media organisations I used to work with put us through trial by publicity, while our family's privacy was violated through doxxing or the sharing of personal information — specifically our home address and its mapped location — without our consent. But I digress.)
 |
| Friends from Harmonym Musikeros choir, a sub-group of Days with the Lord I found kinship with due to our inclination towards music. This pool party took place at Nicky Tesoro's Makati house on |
The Sunday before I flew out, I met a formerly close friend and his now-wife from the Philippine cosplay community; in the ultimate irony, a hobby that highly encourages creativity and individuality is populated by so many citizens who would rather be under the iron fist of the law, and this couple had been no exception. As soon as I staunchly defended my sister's and my family's reputations, they dropped any acquaintance with me then shortly afterwards professed to be completely apolitical, a position they currently maintain in 2022. So, where once they and I would be standing for hours reminiscing the old days, an awkward, tentative kamustahan happened instead because truth be told I had lost touch with them due to the fallout of my sister's arrest.
 |
| My last Coffee Talks with the Makati Chapter of the Brotherhood of Christian Businessmen and Professional's Christ's Young Professionals group on 08 May 2019. They were such amazing folks. It was the only time I opened up about a summary of my life experience with as little censorship as possible. (Also, I really miss making the peace sign.) |
Much has been said and written about how a meal is simply not a meal across all Philippine cultures. Filipinos use the pretext of consuming the same food and drink in order to share experiences and discuss opinions anywhere and everywhere in the country. Hospitality is paramount and in full display; the Westerners may find people who eat by their lonesome odd, but that act simply is not allowed in the Philippine setting. Ultimately, eating is a touchstone of both culture and tradition, grounding both memories past and future celebrations through the fellowship of the here and now.
In my vision of the "perfect" last meal, there would be a huge chocolate fountain flanked by fruits and cakes. A buffet featuring kalderetang baka or kambing (I'm not picky), spaghetti with hard-boiled egg slices (a childhood favourite prepared by my mother), lechon, an isaw/barbeque platter, ensaladang ampalaya, ensaladang pako, and a cheese board would complete the picture. However, the dishes being served wouldn't really matter to me. I can enjoy even lugaw for as long as I were with top-notch company, gathering anyone and everyone who has left a lasting memory in me for a celebration that would tide us all through the end of our days.
In any case, I continue to reluctantly accept letting go of even more people from my circle even now, in the way leaves gently fall off branches plucked by the wind. I understand it's mostly because of the inevitability of growing old, where many like myself are trying to grow new roots elsewhere. I do also acknowledge that another compelling reason is my very public support of a certain political candidate — a strong woman with three daughters forged through trial by publicity, not too dissimilar from my own mother. Coupled with the stubborn, vindictive nature I inherited from my mother, I am not sure and truthfully not keen to re-introduce myself to the people I had cut out of my life for my own peace of mind.
 |
| Goofing off with the next generation of Greeters and Collectors in Saint Andrew the Apostle Parish. I left them in the capable hands of Cherry and Beverly, who I know will take better care of them than I could ever do. |
I wonder if Jesus felt the way I felt back in April and May of 2019 too — wanting to share all the love with all the people He loved in the world (His world), but not being able to do so just because there wasn’t ever going to be enough time for that. Wanting to stay friends, desperate to keep all those connections, knowing full well that they would all turn against him simply because they had such vastly differing perspectives. I wonder if His godly side ever tried to hush or speak over the human side which I am sure would be plagued with the most mundane thoughts: After all this is said and done, will they miss Me? Will My love matter to these people who I've spent the last three years of My life with?
.jpg) |
| With former colleagues from my stint at the British Council back in 2018. We worked hard but ate like construction workers. |
It's a humbling thing, knowing life goes on for everyone else even if you hope they will at least remember you with a footnote. Even if they were your entire world for decades. Jesus died and rose, and then had to fly off to be with dear old Father after some 40 days; I bet even He would agree that 40 days is still not enough time to say goodbye, and at a time without social media no less. I definitely don't blame him for asking the apostles about their loyalties on the road to Emmaus, at the locked rooms, while fishing before sunrise.
I guess in the end I got what I got because I was the one who organised it, and everyone who knows me knows I do better at organising events for other people. In fact, that was my expertise before I resigned and moved to a country that is bent on not recognising my past work experience: public relations, events and crisis management. I'm ironically terrible at everything about myself and I'm also very easily distracted, which more than explains why I only update this blog sporadically but remain active across many of the social media networks which have doxxed me, in the hopes that what is in my heart reaches all the people who I know are already on those channels.
But I also realise now, looking back at all of these photos, how I still held myself apart, picking only which facets of myself I wanted to share, to whom and how and when. I was never inclined to give all of myself to any friendship of any sort due to well-meaning but ultimately misguided advice from my mother, the strong woman who held many people at arms' length. That at least served me well when many of these relationships crumbled in 2016, because it's easier to keep your head low when people break ties due to fear of personal safety.
I also remember choosing to work harder and to try and earn more for this moment, for this move, all at the expense of spending more time with the few people I kept within reach. So paradoxically, while I was extremely close with many of these people I kept, the fact remains that not everyone knew everything about me. It's a most distressing realisation now that I am married and living an ocean away.
 |
| Outside the airport on midnight of 15 May 2019, my parents and our housekeeper Jing saw me off to a new adventure. |
I am still hoping to make peace with the fact that I couldn't bring all the people I did and still love — friends, acquaintances and even enemies alike — together in my last meal in Manila. I still miss everyone there terribly, even with the many complicated threads that wove their way between myself and each person who has made their mark on me, strings that tug and pull at my heart. Sometimes I still dream of Manila, of the life and the people I left behind, of an alternate universe or reality where I never left. With divine intervention, in the hopes that a brown 30-something man named Jesus did find peace in that last meal some 2,000 years ago, I hope I can make peace with the lack and the failure even if today may not be the day or time for it. And still I pray that I can also return — but in three years, instead of three days — to find that friendships and loves can transcend time and space, even in the internet age.
I never did quite answer what the perfect last meal for me would be, yes? A decade ago I would have mentioned the presence of meats and sweets. But ultimately it would be having all the people I love together feasting in celebration with me while partaking in the most modest of food. I hope and pray that this pandemic will be over so that my spouse and I can finally have that meal with all 500 of the people I want to see after but cannot cram into a modest church ceremony.
.jpg)
