.
That’s the title of the book of Carmen Guerrero Nakpil, launched at the Havana restaurant at Greenbelt, Makati the other day
It’s not accurate to describe Mrs. Nakpil as one of the best Filipino writers because she is comparable with the best in the world
“Myself, Elsewhere” is both an autobiography and a memoir of old pre-war Ermita which is no longer visible to today’s generation.
I have yet to finish the whole book but I’m fascinated with the Ermita she described in Chapter 16:
In Ermita, you were not supposed to show yourself to other members of your family, barring only your mother, without having having completed your ablutions and being fully clothed.
Bedclothes were for bed, bathrobes were for the bathroom. Slippers were permitted but only in the house. You could not descend the front or the kitchen stairs, without being properly shod, meaning shoes and socks and stockings. There were exceptions. When your destination was the beach, you could wear beach clothes, but only till the vehicle that would convey you to the water. Also when you were in the stretcher, on the way to the ambulance that would take you to the hospital. These exceptions happened mostly to my brothers. When I became 16, I was given a beautiful, long, silk formal kimono with blue flowers and I could sneak in to late dinner wearing it, if Papa was not around and, to only mild remonstrance from my mother.
Man, woman, or child everybody had to have, in purse o pocket at all times, a clean white handkerchief, newly washed and ironed. White handkerchiefs were an accoutrement of civilization, as well as an industry. They were produced in countless embroidery chops and homes, hand-hemmed, hand embroidered with monograms or crests, made of the finest cotton or linen, at least two feet square for men, smaller and fancier for women. Ermita had been the embroidery center of the country, according to Spanish documents, and my grandmother Aurora told me that the newly-arrived Americans were so enchanted with the white handkerchiefs that they paid exorbitant prices for even the simplest, most inexpensive, causing inflation of a sort. The bordadoras of Ermita were o skillfull that they produced pieces that looked like pen- and –ink paintings, using the finest black strands of hair from their heads. Colored and printed handkerchiefs were consigned to the rice fields or the Sunday cockfights. God forbid they should pollute Ermita.
There were things you could wear only in the daytime, and others only after four o’clock in the afternoon; still others only at night, like diamonds and clothes made of shiny materials. Colors were a whole study. White and light colors were for daytime and only if they were in inoffensive shades and styles. I remember my mother all but tearing a dress from my back into shreds, because one of my father’s cousins had commented that dark lavender was never to be worn by a little girl.
Mama had suffered terribly from the Ermita code of manners as newly-wed. A few weeks after she was married, she was confronted with a visit from her husband’s aunts and cousins, who told her, that in Ermita, one could not appear in one’s front patio wearing a dressing- gown, even if it was only to pick followers from the garden. It just wasn’t done.”
But Mrs. Nakpil said ‘Despite the rigidity of manners, all the passions, the cardinal sins swirled around Ermita.” In the same chapter, she told about what she discovered as a young girl while taking siesta.
Siesta, between 2 and 4 pomp, were sacred, a long elaborate nap for which one changed into bedclothes, drew the blinds or curtains and required absolute silence from any children around. No calls or visitors were entertained, and children were sent to bed with strict orders to close their eyes and be perfectly quiet, sleepy or not. The tyranny of custom, strictly enforced would become second nature. I have been since Ermita, always overcome by drowsiness after lunch, no matter where I happen to be. As late as when my brother Mario and I were in our 60’s, if I happened to break any of these minuscule rules he would reprove me for my faux pas. That was about 40 years after Ermita was gone.
The subject of siesta is oddly enough connected to my sentimental education. One such afternoon, while stretched out on my bed, under orders to take the usual afternoon snooze, I continued to be wide awake, eyes open, focused on the tree near the bedroom window. Beyond the tree was the roof of the house next door, and on it, I saw two men wearing hats. One of them was carrying a camera and he was creeping about, trying to take pictures of the room below. What could he possibly be about, stealing pictures of something that was going on in the house next door? My nanny Titing and I watched him wordlessly for a long time, till the man went away.
Titing said something I did not understand. She said the neighboring Señor must have been taking a siesta, but not with his wife, because they were estranged and lived apart, but with his mistress, a fat mestiza with a loud voice whom we have seen in the premises. The aggrieved wife, the other neighbors said, had brought a court suit against the Senor for concubinage, and the men on the roof must have been gathering evidence or malfeasance. He had a lot to lose for it was the wife, a respectable woman from Biñang, who had the money. And that I how I learned, from taking an aborted siesta, about the perils of marriage and marital infidelity.
Click here for Manolo Quezon’s “Nakpil’s gift to the nation.”
(Photo above is Carmen Guerrero Nakpil flanked by retired Commodore Rex Robles and Diana Ongpin, formerly Philippine cultural attache in Paris.)
Ate Ellen, it seems no one would like to post on this thread. Medyo nakaka-asiwa naman talaga. Carmen Guerrero Nakpil, a literary giant in our midst.
Pero ako, I must confess, I had a chance to work in an establishment where she was also connected. I still treasure a book she gifted me one Christmas time with her signature. But she might not recognize me now even if we meet again. I was very young then.
Never knew the meaning nor experienced siesta time. Never saw any of my teachers from grade school to college partaking of siesta time. Never on weekends either. I spend whatever free time I got playing under the wide shade of the huge acacia tree with my friends. You can’t beat the pleasantness of the shade of the acacia tree, away from the scorching heat of the midday sun, playing with improvised toys. My parents never bought me toys and I wonder why to this day. Never knew what siesta time is … until ten years ago when the wife and I took a vacation to Manzanillo, Mexico. We planned on strolling down the promenade at past noon and were surprised that hardly a soul were there. We tried going shopping but the stores were all closed. We asked one lost soul who happen to walk by what time the stores open and were told that stores open at 4 0’clock. The whole town sleeps at siesta time. The Mexicans have soaked up the culture of siesta time from the spaniards, hook line and and sinker. Most probably the peninsulares call the mexicans lazy aztec just like the friars call the pinoys indolent indios.
The siesta comes with our being a tropical country. In the afternoon, it’s really hot. We have to remember that there was no air conditioning at that time. Talaga naman masarap magpahangin-hangin.
In the provinces, that is still being done by everybody even the poor. They don’t call it “siesta” but they rest after lunch. In our barrio, people have their “kamalig” or hut where they can take a rest from the toils of the morning before they resume work again.
That’s not indolence as Westerners who are familiar only with their own weather conditions say. It’s the natural flow of things.
In our house in Guisijan, Antique we have several duyans (hammock). In the afternoon, each one of us look for trees where we can tie the duyans. We have a good siesta, free electric fan from Mother nature.
By the way, two of our duyans made of plastic cord were made by the detained Magdalo soldiers. That’s what some of them are doing to while away their time in detention.
Joeseg, whether a post has comments or not should not bother anybody. It’s there for all to read.
If you notice in the categories in this blog, there are non-political things because that’s what life is.
If if one is politically-inclined, which we all are, we have other interests. Dapat naman because tht’s what makes us a whole human being. I’m sharing you some things which I find interesting.
Whether one has something to say about it or not, that’s okay.
I have my satistics on the number of people who read every post and it shows, it is being read. That is what matters.
Thank you.
Joeseg, what’s that agency where you worked with Ms. Nakpil, TLRC?
You are right. She is a literary giant.
Tama ka Alitaptap about siesta time. But the friars who called our ninuno indolent indios were the same people along with Magellan, who influenced our forefathers to observe siesta.
Siesta is still being practiced in our barrio where I was born. When I was a little boy dahil laki akong bukid at magsasaka ang magulang, my lolo won’t allow us to play after lunch. We’re ordered to sleep from 12 noon to 2pm. Matulog kayo! Kung hindi, may palo ka. I learned later on na yon pala ang siesta time.
Back to Mrs. Carmen Guerrero Nakpil. She’s a refine lady and soft spoken. Never I heard her raise her voice. I wonder why she’s not writing anymore in her column at Malaya. The one we could read in her column today has remained unchanged for quite sometime already.
Joeseg, Mrs. Nakpil is now 84 years old. Keeping deadlines is too much for her now.
Yes, Ate Ellen, TRC then. I was not there anymore when she became the Director-General. She was forced out of the office after EDSA 1, Since then, it became TLRC, and its finances floundered with the PCGG taking over. Now, it’s closed.
Meron akong nalaman na siesta time noong 90’s sa isang kagawaran ng gobyerno dyan sa dating Philcomcen building.
Brunch time hanggang bago mag-alas dos ng hapon. Yun pala nanonood ng sine sa kalapit mall sa Ortigas Center.
I’m just curious if the book also chronicled the decadence of Ermita to it’s present state. Ermita would mirror the modern history of the country if the political prostitutes continue to lurk the government corridors.
Coincidentally, an Ermita is on the helm, helping steer the country into the fate of the present Ermita.
I do find the excerpts of the book really interesting. Thanks Ellen for sharing some of the pages on this blog.
I hope to get a copy when I get home in June.
Anyway, I can relate with siesta time. When we were kids, talagang palo ang kapalit pag hindi naging tahimik o matulog ang mga bata. After lunch, diretso na para mag-siesta. Habang kunyari natutulog kami, maririnig mo naman sa kusina na may inihahanda ng merienda para “paggising” ng mga nag-siesta, kain uli.
But what an irony, Ms Nakpil grew up in Ermita, THE Ermita then which was the place where one should be. Ang Ermita (place) ngayon, puno na yata ng mga establishments na di kanais-nais. What’s worse, ang isa sa mga kampon ng kadiliman sa Palasyo, apelyido, ERmita pa. What an irony talaga.
Happy New Year sa lahat ng bloggers. I hope 2007 will be the year where the squatters are finally evicted.
A gifted writer and historian, I always enjoy reading Ms. Nakpil’s articles in Malaya. She’s so easy to read, her pieces are very informative.
I guess that the pre-war Ermita was a district solely for the old rich and those with fine and studied manners, a sharp contrast with what we have today.
About siesta, I also think that it’s all about the hot/warm weather of a country and not indolence of the people.
Filipinos are not the only people taking naps or sleeping between 2-4 pm. Alitaptap had his Mexico siesta encounter. I had mine in Toledo, Spain.
Thinking that it was a tourist district, hubby and I began to line up at 1 pm outside the Toledo church to view the most famous painting of El Greco which was housed in one of the rooms inside. (There was no notice of viewing hours.) It was already 2:30, ngawit na ang mga paa namin, and the person/s in charge were no where in sight, the church doors were still closed. We decided to leave and sat on a bench under a huge tree nearby. Across us was a lady sleeping soundly on a bench. At 3, she stood up and started her way to the church doors. Hinabol namin, e di siya nga ang in-charge. Nakapasok rin kami. Later, we learned that siesta time pala nila between 2-4 pm., summer noon at napakainit ng panahon parang Pinas. Hindi tayo nag-iisa na may siesta.
Pero iyong kwento ni Nelbar, iba na kasi nasa airconditoned sinehan sila. Pasarap na ang mga tauhan ng gobyerno. heheh.
aminado ako, magaling talagang manunulat si carmen guerrero nakpil, at hindi pwedeng tawaran ang kredibilidad niya dahil siya mismo ang saksi sa pag-inog ng kasaysayan ng ating bayan at lipunan. hindi ko siya masyadong kilala, mas kilala ko ang anak niyang si gemma cruz, dating ms. international. nagsulat na din siya ng kung ilang libro at malaki rin naman ang naiambag niya sa pakikibaka ng mga kababaihan nuong dekada 70 at 80. i wonder, nasaan na si gemma ngayon (in the political spectrum) pagkatapos ng stint niya bilang secretary ng dept. of tourism under erap’s term. may update ka ba, ms. ellen?
Hindi ko naisin na putulin ang inyong magandang usapan dito pero alam niyo ba na nagyabang ang DOH Secretary na gumanda daw ang ekonomiya ng bansa dahil marami ang nagpapaputok itong taon? What a stupid remark coming from a Malacanang cabinet secretary!
Based on the chinese tradition, nagpapaputok tayo to cast away the demons and evils around us. Mas maraming nagpapaputok ngayon, at mas maingay pa ang putukan sa pagsalubong natin sa bagong taon ngayon than in the previous years, kasi nga mas masama ang demonyo at demonya ngayon sa bansa, at higit na maraming demonyita at demonyita ngayon sa pamahalaan.
I never missed reading CGN’s column in Malaya. I would like to get a copy of her book. Is this now for salel at Phil National Book Store?
I can relate to this type of upbringing..although mine was not as rigid, but very similar. How nice to read pieces like this and go back to where it all began, in childhood.
A favorite poem of mine for you today, Ellen–
Four ducks on a pond.
A grass bank beyond.
A blue sky of Spring
White clouds on the wing;
What a little thing
To remember for years
To remember, with tears!
…Dame Edith Sitwell
Sa archives ng Malaya , 19May2004, meron dun na sinulat si CGN tungkol sa tatlong senaryo matapos ang May 2004 election.
Meron ba dito na makakapag post sa blog ni Ellen ng kopya ng THREE SCENARIO?
I don’t know about that three scenarios that Mrs. Nakpil wrote about, Nelbar. Malaya’s archives is only good for one year.
Myrna, Manolo Quezon also wrote about Mrs. Nakpil’s “Myself, Elsewhere”. He picked out the chapter on Christmas in pre-war Ermita.
Isabel, Gemma writes for the Manila Bulletin and hosts a radio and TV show at DZRJ.
She is also active in a foundation preserving Filipino heritage.
She was there at the book launching.
I also experienced “siesta” as the Spaniards live it.
I was as part of the media team that covered FVR’s state visit to Spain (I think it was in 1993). Our priority was filing our reports. It was almost 2:00 p.m when we finished filing our stories of the morning events. We decided to go out and eat outside our hotel so we can have a change of scenery.
All the restaurants were closed. Yun nga, siesta time.
We walked and walked until it was past two p.m. and some of the restaurants were beginning to open. We entered one place and using all the Spanish that I learned in college, I asked. “Que es menu para el dia?” I don’t know if that’s correct but the lady understood me and enumerated speedily what was in their menu. My God, we could not catch up. nakatanga kami lahat.We all laughed. Amy Pamintuan of the Philippine Star kidded me, “Ayan kasi, nagpractice ka pa ng Español.”
I had to confess to the lady “No hablo Español”.
She just handed us the menu. Nagtuturo na lang kami kahit ano.
We had a good lunch.
Elvira, I’m not sure if it’s available now at National Book Store. You may have someone call 817-29-40 or text 0921-4011-480.
Or you can write Gemma Cruz:gemma601@yahoo.com
Sa kagagala namin noon sa Spain (baka akala ni Glueria ay siya lang ang gumagala sa Espana at mundo, ha! Dito sa blog ni Ellen ay maraming naggagala sa mundo ba!), natutunan namin na mananghali ng alas 2pm, at maghapunan ng alas 10pm.
Pero Ellen, walang sinabi ang paella ng Spain sa ating Pinas paella o arroz valenciana! Superb pati ang ating litson at menudo! Nanggaling sa Spain ang base ingredients pero na-improve natin ng husto.
Ellen, nabanggit mo ang mga plastic cord hammock na gawa ng Magdalos, do they sell them? Kasi balak ko sanang magpabili at ipagtatali rin between trees sa bundok for siestas.
It helps to speak Spanish especially if you travel to Latin America. Ang hindi ko lang alam kung ano ang pagkaiba ng Spanish and Portuguese languages. Not only do these two countries are close neighbors, they sound alike. Ms. Tordesillas,in your foreign trip with FVR, what was your impression about the man then? Ganyan ba iyan noon tulad ngayon?
salamat sa update on gemma, ellen.
Some of you might have received Christmas greeting from Senator Nene Pimentel. I received one. It was so nice of him to do that. Mabuhay ka Senador!
Inabutan ko pa rin ang siesta pagkatapos ng pananghalian pero hindi ang buhay mayaman sa ERmita ni C. Nakpil. Lumaki ako sa hirap at nababasa ko lang ang buhay mayaman sa mga panulat ni Quijano de Manila o Nick Joaquin.
Carmen Guerrero Nakpil is a writer par excellance and could stand side by side with Nick Joaquin and Brillantes and Lazaro Francisco.
Thank you Ellen for sharing with us an excerpt from CGN’s book. Thank you too for the phone nos. I’ll ask a friend of mine who just left for Manila to inquire about the book.
Ellen, if ever you come to Europe again, you can pass by in Germany and we’d be willing to show you around some of the beautiful spots here. The same goes in Spain. We have a very small hideout there overlooking the ocean and my husband and I drive or fly there every now and then, but not during winter time! Spain may not be as cold as here but there are days especially during Dec., Jan and Feb. where the temperature could be as low as 8 degree Centigrade! Just Email me.
Pilipina si Nakpil ano? Naks, Pilipina !
Ellen: joeseg
Thanks for the insight of Carmen Guerrero Nakpil.
I can’t say I knew of her, I read her articles and always felt negative against her writing about her lavish ten course lunches, when I’m experiencing everyone around me unable to feed their children before they go to school. I guess thats because I’m standing on the basement floor of life, through choice I must add (smile).
I often wondered, when reading her articles, what sort of background she came from. Thanks to you and this Blog I now have a better idea. The fact that I still feel negative is something I must bear. That’s life as they say. But thank you for bringing a clearer picture of this lady to my otherwise puzzled mind.
WWNL – you brought back on track the subject on Carmen G Nakpil! mandirigma got the discussion derailed… am sure Ellen got the topic about Smith next on her mind but mandirigma stole the thunder out of her.
alitaptap:
Its my fault because I was slow in reacting to my thoughts on this lady’s book, and I just wanted it to be known that Ellen’s posting on the subject cleared up my suspicions of what type of background Carmen Guerrero Nakpil may have had plus that Ellens posting caught my interest
Cocoy, that’s alright, friend.
alitaptap:
One thing is for certain is that the common denominator between what I read of Carmen Guerrero Nakpil experience and my own experience is food. Carmen Guerrero Nakpil is looking at what course to choose at lunchtime whilst I’m looking at families just looking for rice, period (smile).
Maybe the answer is for Carmen Guerrero Nakpil to change places, with me, even just for once a month
Ka Cocoy, thanks for your kind words. I felt bad after you told me you were a victim of Martial Law and that forced you to leave for the US. That’s more than 30 years now. Wala ka nang dapat alalahanin at puwede ka nang bumalik sa Pilipinas kahit bumisita lang. I remember you mentioned “IM” in another post. Did you mean Imelda Marcos? Siya ba ang iniilagan mo?
I transferred all comments on Daniel Smith’s suspicious transfer of custody to the U.S. to the next post, “Smith back to US custody”.
You all beat me to that story. I woke up late and I had difficulty with my internet connection. Thank you very much for bringing it to my attention.
Background on CGN:
Carmen Guerrero Nakpil, journalist author and public servant was born in Ermita, Manila into the Guerrero clan of that town. She studied at St. Theresa’s College, Manila, and graduated with a Bachelor of Arts degree in 1942. Between 1946 and 2006, she worked either as staff member, editor or editorial columnist at the Evening News, the Philippines Herald, the Manila Chronicle, the Manila Times, Asia magazine and Malaya, in addition to contributing lectures, essays, short stories to other publications here and abroad.
She has published seven other books:Woman Enough, A Question of Identity, History Today,The Philippines and the Filipinos, The Rice Conspiracy, the Centennial Reader and Whatever.
In the 1960’s, she served as chairman of the National Historical Commission and in the 1990’s the Manila Historical Commission, and director-general of the Technology Resource Center from 1975 to 1985. She was elected to the Executive Board of the UNESCO, Paris in 1983.
Mrs. Nakpil was married to Lt. Ismael A. Cruz in 1942 and to Architect AngelE. Nakpil in 1950 and was widowed twice. She has five children, Gemma Cruz Araneta, Ismael Guerrero Cruz, Ramon G. Nakpil, Lizza G. Nakpil and Luis G. Nakpil, two stepdaughters, Nina Nakpil Campos and Carmen Nakpil Dualan, numerous grandchildren and a few great-gandchildren.
As a child, Ellen, I was forced to take siesta after lunch. Our maid would even use the turbaned Indians as an excuse to frighten me to take an afternoon nap.
I experienced the real macoy of a siesta on a trip to sunny Spain as a matter of fact where they take their dinner late, something akin to the British afternoon teas.
I did not go to UK as planned, though, because my mother, whom I wanted to see the land of one of her ancestors was not up to it. We had the usual family reunion on Christmas Eve despite the seemingly bleak Christmas around us. Gosh, there were lots of bargains even before Christmas but there were not many people (not even window shoppers) shopping around malls in California.
As a child, we lived near Ermita, and saw the ruins of old palatial houses built for the rich out of Intramuros along the seashore where a boulevard was built for a good view of Manila’s sunset. My father used to drive us, siblings, there for a night stroll.
Glad to know that Ms. Nakpil is still up and kicking, and looking young even as “young” as my 88-year-old Mom. Her article in Malaya is in fact a year or two old now, though.
where/how do i buy a copy of this book?