Philippine American writer Cecilia Manguerra Brainard blogs about her travels, writings, life, politics, history, and more.

Philippine American writer Cecilia Manguerra Brainard blogs about her travels, writings, life, politics, history, and more.

Philippine American writer Cecilia Manguerra Brainard blogs about her travels, writings, life, politics, history, and more.

One of the activities I like to do before I actually sit down and write is "clustering." It jostles the mind, loosens up ideas so they float up and you are able to catch them, as if casting a net in the sea and capturing fish. What you get are seemingly random ideas/thoughts. Welcome them. Again, there's no right nor wrong here. Think of "clustering" as playing, and then you're on the right track. Don't "think." Just let it rip. Make a circle in the middle of a page, and write a word in it. Usually this word should be related to what you want to write about, but if you don't have a topic as of yet, you can jot down the first word that pops into your head. Any word, no matter how silly. Now, without thinking, "catch" the other words/ideas/thoughts that surface. Draw a line to the main word, create a circle and write that word inside that outer circle. That word will bring up other related words/ideas/thoughts - write those down as well to "catch" them. One thought spurs on another thoughts, and so on. You will get something like the clustering I did above. This frees you up. When you think you are blocked; when you simply can't write, try clustering. After you've written down these random thoughts/ideas, you will find a lot to write about. You can even get a sense of an "outline" from the way the ideas have clustered. You can do clustering for any writing activity, not just creative one. So, teachers, note, that your students can cluster to help them write their homework or papers. Lawyers, note, that this can also help you with your legal briefs or other documents. Clustering is easy and fun, and it gets you going especially when you are stuck. Happy writing. Read also How Long Should Your Novel (or Short Story) Be? Leonard Bercovici Legacy "Get into the Head of Your Character" Make a Date with the Muse Creative Writing: The Importance of Sensual Writing Creative Writing: Journal Writing and my Pink Lock and Key Diary Creative Writing: Your Writing Work Space (In My Case, Where My Cats Hang Out) Creative Writing: Two Important Rules Creative Writing: Explosion and Drawing as Writing Exercises How to Write a Novel #1 How to Write a Novel #2 This is all for now, Cecilia tags: clustering, creative writing, writing, literature, fiction, workshop, block, writer's block, right brain, technique

Philippine American writer Cecilia Manguerra Brainard blogs about her travels, writings, life, politics, history, and more.

My article about Pre-Colonial Gold in the Philippines came out in The Freeman and Philstar.com, Oct. 14, 2012 Pre-colonial gold in Cebu By Cecilia Manguerra Brainard (The Freeman) Updated October 14, 2012 12:00 AM CEBU, Philippines - In 2008, while construction of the Cebu subway tunnel went on in the Plaza Independencia area, gold jewelry started appearing in the antique collector's black market. Pre-Hispanic gold jewelry was being offered to collectors; it was a collector himself who blew the whistle and before long the Plaza Independencia was secured from robbers and turned into an archeological digging site. Enter Dr. Jobers Bersales from the University of San Carlos Sociology and Anthropology, and Cebu's version of Indiana Jones. Dr. Bersales supervised the diggings that unearthed Pre-Hispanic ceramics and gold jewelry, including gold death coverings. I was interested in the gold findings for two reasons. First, the idea of having Pre-Hispanic people wearing these gold necklaces, diadems, belts, arm and wristbands suggested a more sophisticated culture than that promulgated by the Spanish who had arrived the Philippines in 1521. Second, I had seen gold death masks in Lima, Peru and in Egypt, and I wondered how ancient peoples, separated by a great distance, ended up making similar items such as this. I tried to see the Cebu gold findings, but since the diggings were ongoing, could not. However I did have the chance to see the Ayala Museum gold collection, a fabulous exhibit of over one thousand gold items found in the Philippines, and yes, some of these came from Cebu. The Ayala displayed numerous gold earrings, necklaces, sashes, pectorals, diadems, finger rings, anklets, bowls, cups, death coverings and masks, and a fabulous bird-woman figure. Looking at all these gold findings, I understood that Cebu's ancient people had a social hierarchy, the wealthy wearing the extravagant pieces some of which weighed a remarkable four kilos in gold. They had enough wealth so that artisans could work on gold pieces to decorate their people and homes. They had religious beliefs that called for them to treat their dead with respect and love so much so that eyes, nose, mouths of the dead were covered by gold pieces. In some cases, the death mask consisted of one piece that looked like a small face, with etchings made to look like eyebrows, eyes, nose, and mouth. This gold piece covered the face of the dead. In other cases, pieces of gold were shaped and decorated to look like eyes, nose and mouth pieces; and these too were used to cover the face of the dead. It wasn't until 2011 when I finally had the chance to see some of the diggings from the Plaza Independencia in Cebu. By this time, the findings had been catalogued by the National Museum of the Philippines, and some were on display in the newly opened Museo Sugbo. There they were, ceramic ware and some gold findings, including necklaces. The gold findings were sparse compared to the Ayala Gold collection, but what interested me most was encased in glass: it was a skull, found in the Plaza Independencia, with the gold death facial pieces that had covered it. Talking about the actual digging of this skull, Jobers Bersales said, he had a hunch when he told the men to dig in a particular spot. They found what looked like candy wrapper, a bit of gold foil, which turned out to be one of the gold death pieces. There apparently was a very large plate covering the skull. A year later, I visited the Boljoon Museum, a small sitio museum that housed some findings from archeological diggings in front of the Boljoon church. There were a few pieces of pottery and jewelry, but the sparse display consisted mostly of pictures. It was the Banco Central, where my friend Marily Orosa brought me, which had an extensive collection of pre-Colonial pieces, breathtaking in fact because of the quantity and artistry of the work. There were numerous display cases of gold findings, the same type of artifacts displayed at the Ayala gold collection (gold earrings, necklaces, sashes, pectorals, diadems, finger rings, anklets, bowls, cups, death coverings and masks) - but much more. At some point I had asked historian Ambeth Ocampo why the Spaniards had not treated the people in the Philippines in the same way they had treated the people in Peru or Mexico - that is, the Spaniards had systematically removed as much gold and silver as they could from these places, destroying the social structure and cultures of both countries in the process. Peruvian history relates that the Spaniards had captured the Inca Emperor, Atahualpa, and had demanded a ransom in gold, the amount of which had to fill a room said to be 17 feet wide by 22 feet long, by 9 feet high. The Incas threw in silver that filled a smaller room, and the weight of the ransom came up to 13,400 pounds of gold and 26,000 pounds of gold. I believe Ambeth Ocampo's answer was that the Philippines did not have as much gold and silver as the New World did. The gold in the Philippines did not originate just from the Philippines, but from other places, as part of the trading that went on. I also asked several academics if there was an explanation as to why there is a close similarity between the death masks in Peru and the Philippines. Their reply was that cultures will create similar things to address the same problem. In other words, people from these ancient cultures wanted to cover the faces of the dead for religious reasons, and so they created masks or facial coverings made of gold, or wood, or bone. The archeological diggings continue in Cebu, thanks in large part to Jobers Bersales. Historians will no doubt uncover more information about the ancient people of Cebu, and with this a better understanding of their culture and society. (FREEMAN) Read also Life in Parian Now Cebu's 1730 Jesuit House The Secret Hall of Angels A Story of Hope Finding Jose Rizal in Cebu Lola Remedios and her Sayas Lunch with F. Sionil Jose Pre-Colonial Gold in Cebu ~~ tags: Cebu, Philippines, Sugbo, history, gold, pre-colonial

Philippine American writer Cecilia Manguerra Brainard blogs about her travels, writings, life, politics, history, and more.

Philippine American writer Cecilia Manguerra Brainard blogs about her travels, writings, life, politics, history, and more.

The oldest street in the Philippines is reportedly Colon (named after Christopher Columbus) in Cebu. My mother's family, the Cuencos, lived in Colon. The first floor of their house was used for their publishing business, the Imprenta Rosario - I've highlighted this information in the article. I find it particularly interesting that my great-grandmother Remedios, whom I never met, was the first woman publisher in the Philippines (the article says "Cebu" but that should be the "Philippines"). It happened by default - her husband died and she took over in managing and running the business. She bore 16 children, although only four survived to adulthood: Mariano Jesus became a senator, Jose Maria became an archbishop, Miguel became a congressman, and her daughter Remedios was known as a storyteller. Colon's Prominent Residents Contributed by Kiting Moro & Fred Umabong November 30, 2008 Bisayabulletin.com During the late 19th century, Colon was first and foremost a street full of residential houses built in rows. For every store, shop and office on the ground floor, there was a family or two living upstairs. Some came from the most prominent families of their time and ours, others from once-prominent families now long forgotten, having moved out of Cebu, their descendants scattered all over the archipelago and abroad. From the Colon section of Parian lived the Gantuangcos, whose descendant, Concepcion Gantuangco-Briones, wrote in 1980 an important first-person account of life in the old Parian district. The Gantuangcos lived on No. 66 Colon Street. Across the house lived the Lu. Do Family, whose children Paterno and Cayetano, would later make a name in the coconut oil manufacturing industry in Asia. It was here that Lu Do (or Oya Owa), who came from Amoy, China, built a copra-buying station on property leased from Fr. Venerado Reynes in 1896. On this same row lived the Rallos family led by patriarch Florentino Rallos, who became Cebu's Municipal President (Mayor) in 1907-08. The Rallos property was said to straddle the Parian Estero up to Manalili Street. Up until World War II, the family had kept an old caruaje, an heirloom piece at their Colon residence. On the same row also lived the Osmeñas and the Singsons. The shipping office of Don Victoriano Osmeña was on the ground floor of this big stone house, which had two main doors – one opening to Colon, the other to the dark and narrow Sudlon Street. At the corner of Colon and Norte America (now D. Jakosalem) was the stone camarin and bodega of Don Tomas Osmeña, with a yard so big that it occupied an entire block. Don Sergio Osmeña, meanwhile, lived still farther, along the corner of Colon and Pelaez streets, where he had his law office on the ground floor. It was also here that Cebu's first daily, El Nueva Dia, which he published, had transferred from Calle Comerio (later M.C. Briones). Don Mariano Albao Cuenco, a lawyer from Carmen, Cebu came to Colon in the 19th century and built an imposing house located between the corners of D. Jakosalem and Mabini. Its ground floor later became the office of the Imprenta Rosario, a printing press founded by Cuenco in 1907 and taken over by his wife, Doña Remedios, who became the first woman publisher I Cebu. The printing press published, among others, the revived El Boletin Catolico in 1915, Cebu Daily News in 1923, and the English-language newspaper Republic News. The politically prominent Cuencos continue to own the property today. During the first decade of the 20th century, the ground floor of Don Agapito Garces' house at the corner of Mabini and Colon streets served as venue for early films. Another Garces, Doña Josefa, owned another property along Colon around 1914. Farther along the old part of Colon lived Don Victorino Reynes, foremost realtor, art collector and a famous philatelist. Don Victorino owned a shop at his residence o No. 86 which was across Teatro Oriente. At the junction of Legaspi and Colon lived the prominent theater owner Don Jose Avila. Near this house, the Estero of Parian tapered off and vanished. Across the Los Hijos de Pueblo clubhouse on the corner of D. Jakosalem lived Don Esclastico "Capitan Tikoy" Veloso, whose hose once served as office of the Real Audiencia. The ground floor was later converted into a shop where stagecoaches were made and repaired. Beside the Hijos clubhouse was the residence of the Martinez-Franco clan, with its ground floor hosting a busy foundry for making cawa (cauldrons). Don Domingo Franco owned the house together with his wife, Doña Lucia Chiong Veloso and her sister, Doña Charing Veloso-Martinez. At the corner of the Junquera and Colon lived Don Mamerto Escaño whose family originally hailed from Leyte. Increasing investment exposures in Cebu forced the Escaños to establish a foothold in Cebu. Like all the rest, the family made the most logical choice – Colon. ~~~ The pictures show old Colon Street, Remedios, and Remedios with her family. The little girl holding the doll is my mother, Concepcion Cuenco Manguerra. Who's who in the Cuenco Family picture: l-r: girl with ribbon is my mother's sibling who died young either Maria or Corazon, girl with doll is Concepcion Cuenco, leaning against older lady who is Juana Lopez, behind Concepcion standing is Filomena Alesna Cuenco, young woman standing is the younger Remedios Cuenco; little girl seated in foreground in Lourdes Cuenco, priest seated is Jose Ma. Cuenco, boy standing in foreground is Manuel Cuenco, boy standing in back is Miguel Cuenco, woman seated far right is Remedios Cuenco ~~~ Read also Concepcion Cuenco Manguerra, Cebu Carnival Queen 1931 Cuenco Family of Cebu Life in Parian Now Cebu's 1730 Jesuit House The Secret Hall of Angels A Story of Hope Finding Jose Rizal in Cebu Lola Remedios and her Sayas Pre-Colonial Gold in Cebu All for now, Cecilia

From Carol Ojeda-Kimbrough who had shared with us her Cornbread Bibingka, here is another bibingka recipe: Bibingka Recipe 1 Box Mochiko (sweet rice flour) 1 can coconut milk or evaporated milk 1 1/2 cup sugar 4 eggs 1 1/2 cups water 2 tsp baking powder Flavor: langka, corn, or macapuno Mix Bake at 325 degrees for 1 hour or when done. Carol sent this to to clarify the above recipe: Cecilia, My responses to the questions – first of all, we all have different ways of cooking the same food, and this long lost recipe is one of the first recipes I got when I was a fairly new immigrant. The handwritten recipe contained notes that only I probably understood, hence the questions. And so I am typing it out with more detailed steps. The original recipe does not contain butter and is a very simple recipe for bibingka. Since then I’ve seen recipes that incorporate butter to make the bibingka richer in taste. I have not been afraid to experiment or change things around with my recipes, and I’m sure your readers also have their different versions. I’d love to read their version of bibingka. Thank you for including this in your blog – I made it for my daughter’s baby shower. INGREDIENTS 1 box (1#) Mochiko Blue Star Sweet Rice Flour 1 ½ cups sugar (up to 2 cups if you prefer it sweeter) 2 tsp. baking powder 1 can (13.5 ounce) coconut milk 1 1/2 cups whole milk 4 eggs 1 stick unsalted butter (4 ounce), melted Optional: Langka or Macapuno INSTRUCTIONS Preheat oven to 325 degrees F. Lightly coat a 9 x 13 inch baking pan with non-stick cooking spray. Melt butter in a small saucepan over low medium heat. Set aside. Thoroughly mix flour, baking powder and sugar together in a large bowl. In a separate bowl, mix the coconut milk, whole milk, eggs, and melted butter together. Add wet mixture to the dry mix and stir together. Optional: Add Langka or Macapuno to the mix Combine all ingredients well, then pour mixture into the 9x13 pan. Place in oven on middle rack and bake for approximately 60 minutes. Let bibingka rest in oven for an additional 30 minutes before removing. Cool and then cut them into small pieces and place in muffin paper cups. Read also Recipe for Carol's Cornbread Bibingka Leche Flan, Vietnamese style tags: cooking, recipes, food, cake, rice flour, bibingka, Filipino, Philippines, #FilipinoFood #FilipinoCooking This is all for now, Cecilia

Do you remember my San Pasqual statue in my kitchen? He's the patron saint of the kitchen and cooks, and I was very happy to have found him in Beaune, France. (That's him to the right, holding a bottle of wine and a dead goose.) I found a companion for him -- Friar Tuck, a vintage cookie jar. They don't sit side by side, but they're both in the kitchen. They are both adorable. I imagine they'll have conversations late at night when we are asleep. Maybe they'll talk about philosophy or politics. They look like they come from different religious orders, so they could talk about which order is better. Or maybe they'll discuss what the best way is to get to heaven. Or maybe they'll talk about food, because they both look like they love food. Or -- dread the thought -- they'll criticize my cooking. I found Friar Tuck in an antique shop. He's not the first Monk/Friar Cookie Jar I've had. Many years ago, I had a collectible Friar cookie jar that stressed me out because it was expensive and I realized I was being a drag when I kept telling the children to be careful. I got rid of him and have been using tin cans to hold cookies. Friar Tuck will be an improvement but he won't be as worrisome because he's not as high-end as that other one. I like his smile and his sign that says: Thou Shalt Not Steal (cookies). But of course, people in the house are welcome to steal my cookies! Here's a recipe for Short Bread Cookies. Recipe for Hanna's Short Bread Cookies 1 1/2 sticks butter (3/4 cup) 1/4 cup sugar 1/2 tbsp vanilla extract 1 3/4 cup flour Mix together flour, sugar, and salt. Work in the butter with a fork or pastry cutter until smooth. Refrigerate dough for a couple of hours or overnight. On a lightly floured surface roll out the dough to 1/4 inch thick. Cut into rounds. Place on baking sheets lined with parchment paper and bake for approximately 10-15 minutes or until golden brown. ~~ This is all for now, Cecilia Read also My Treasure from Beaune - San Pasqual, Patron Saint of the Kitchen Cooking with Cecilia Brainard - Quiche Cooking with Cecilia Brainard - Linguine with Clams Cooking Lengua Estofada How I Learned to Make Leche Flan (or How I Met my Husband) Cooking with Cecilia - Leche Flan (Vietnamese Style) Cooking with Cecilia - Beef Bourguignon Cooking with Cecilia - Chicken Soup for my Bad Cold Cooking with Cecilia - Filipino Barbecue Pork Tags: cooking, food, baking, cookies. cookie jars, monks, friar, kitchen, eating

COOKING WITH CECILIA - LECHE FLAN (Vietnamese Style) I'm cooking for some friends, and my menu includes Leche Flan. Here is my favorite Leche Flan Recipe, which has coconut milk. The coconut milk seems to make the texture smoother. I have other Leche Flan Recipes, from the Philippines and Mexico, but this one almost always turns out perfect. It may take more than 45 minutes to cook. You have to test with a knife. Poke and pull, if the knife is clean, the flan is cooked. (The picture shows me with Beef Bourguignon, another favorite recipe. I'll post that recipe another time.) Leche Flan with Vietnamese Touch 4 eggs 1 cup condensed milk 1 cup coconut milk 2 tbsp vanilla sugar to carmelize container Mix eggs, milk, and vanilla. I carmelize sugar in a pan and spoon out brown sugar-liquid into the bottoms of pyrex containers. I put the mixture into the containers, around 2/3 or 3/4 full. I double boil for around 45 minutes at 325 degrees. Let the pyrex containers cool. Run knife around the edges and loosen flan before flipping onto a serving plate, spoon carmelized sugar over the top. Delicious! Read also: Cooking with Cecilia Brainard - Quiche Cooking with Cecilia Brainard - Linguine with Clams Cooking Lengua Estofada Food Essay - Fried Chicken Caribbean-style How I Learned to Make Leche Flan (or How I Met my Husband) Cooking with Cecilia - Leche Flan (Vietnamese Style) Recipe for Balbacua Cebuana from Louie Nacorda Easy Filipino Recipes from Maryknollers Cooking with Cecilia - Beef Bourguignon Cooking with Cecilia - Chicken Soup for my Bad Cold ~~~ tags: cooking, recipes, dessert, leche flan, custard, cookbook, food

Philippine American writer Cecilia Manguerra Brainard blogs about her travels, writings, life, politics, history, and more.

Cuenco Family, photo taken 1932 when Mariano Jesus Cuenco was Governor of Cebu My mother, Concepcion, is standing far left My cousin, Manny Gonzalez, found a cache of Cuenco family pictures including this family picture of Mariano Jesus and Filomena Cuenco. Manny's and my mother are in the picture. His mother Teresita is the youngest one, standing between Filomena and Mariano Jesus. Mine (Concepcion) is standing, far left. The other members of the family are: seated left, Consuelo, seated right, Carmen; standing beside my mother is Manuel, and to his left is Lourdes. The photo was taken in Cebu City in 1932. At the time, my grandfather was Governor of Cebu; my mother had been Cebu's Petit Carnival Queen in 1931, a coveted title. What people don't know is the story of vindication behind the glow of success. Mariano Jesus' father, my great-grandfather, Mariano Albao Cuenco 1, was a poet-teacher from Capiz, who had run for governor in Cebu but had lost. He seemed more of a writer who started the Imprenta Rosario and who had a literary pseudonym, Asuang (Cebuano for "witch" or "warlock"). Mariano Albao had also been the Court of Clerk in Judge Lyman Judy Carlock's court in Cebu, and had taught Carlock Visayan and Cebuano ways. Mariano Albao died at the age of 39 leaving behind his wife, Remedios Diosomito, with the press, a respected name, but not a lot of money. Fortunately, Remedios had a good head for business and invested in real estate, which kept her family together. The oldest son, Jose Maria, became an archbishop of the Catholic Church. The second son, Mariano Jesus, became governor, senator, and senate president at the height of his political career. The third, Miguel, became a congressman. They were all writers, including the daughter, Remedios. Perhaps because Mariano Albao had been a teacher, writer, and intellectual, his children were well-educated. Jose Maria 3, attended schools in Manila and the United States (as a pensionado). Mariano Jesus attended the Colegio San Carlos in Cebu and obtained his law degree from the Escuela Derecho in Manila. Miguel Cuenco attended Colegio de San Carlos, University of Santo Tomas, Georgetown University and Harvard in the United States. Remedios most likely attended convent schools. In becoming governor of Cebu, my grandfather, Mariano Jesus, fulfilled his father's wish. This was a posthumous vindication for Mariano Albao who lost his bid for governorship in the early 1900s. Mariano Jesus Cuenco 2 was 42 years old when he was elected Cebu's governor in 1931. He became the President of the League of Governors in the Philippines, and at the height of his political career became Senate President. He had started his political career in 1912 when he was elected a member of the Philippine Assembly (fifth district). The year 1912 was when my mother was born, and my grandfather reportedly considered her his good luck child. Except for Teresita, all of the people in the picture are gone. Many of their stories are also gone. I wish I had been more attentive when I was young so I could have asked them questions. But it's too late for that now, and I just have to piece together history with family stories to try and imagine how things might have been. L-r: Carmen, Concepcion, Filomena, Manuel, Teresita (child), Mariano Jesus, Lourdes (in back), and Consuelo ~~~~ Biographies from Resil Mojares' Cebuano Literature: A Survey and Bio-Bibliography with Finding List (San Carlos Publications 1975): 1 Mariano Albao Cuenco - 1861-1909 Poet, journalist, grammarian. Born in Kalibo, Capiz, on December 6, 1861. Family moved to Sogod, Cebu, when he was 6. Graduated at 19 from Normal de Manila. Taught in the public schools in Sogod and Catmon. In 1889, he moved to Baybay, Leyte, and quit teaching for agriculture and business. Returned to Cebu and became a journalist, writing for various papers. Ran for Cebu governor but lost. Died on July 9, 1909. Wrote verse and prose in Spanish and Cebuano. Pseudonym: Asuang 2 Mariano Jesus Cuenco - 1888-1964 Born in Carmen on Jan. 16, 1888: brother of Jose Ma. Studied at Colegio de San Carlos and Escuela de Derecho in Manila. Became a lawyer in 1913. Founded La Juventud and Luz de Visayas and was involved with Tingog sa Lungsod, An Camatuoran, and others. Publisher of El Precursor. Wrote Ang basahon sa lungsoranong Pilipinhon, a civic guide. Pen name: Lauro Katindog. Member of Philippine Assembly (1912-16), four-term Cebu representative, two-term Cebu governor, Senate President and Cabinet member. 3 Jose Maria Cuenco - 1885-1972 Born in Carmen, Cebu, on May 19, 1885. Earne AB (Bachelor of Arts) at Colegio de San Carlos; LL.B and PhD at Georgetown University (1907). Taught at the Cebu High School (1907-09), entered the seminary and was ordainted in 1914. Archbishop of Jaro. Founded El Boletin Catolico and Veritas, an English-Spanish weekly. Published travelogues, sermons, speeches, and religious writings. Did translations, authored an English-Cebuano dictionary. Died in Jaro, Iloilo on October 8, 1972. ~~~ Read also ROOTS - Pictures of my Mother and More Cebu, Philippines: The Old Families of Colon Street Tags: Cebu, Philippines, politics, history, Cuenco, Mariano Cuenco This is all for now Cecilia

Here are some interesting pictures of doorways and entrances. I took these pictures in Mexico, Egypt, Brazil, and Burma. Read also Beautiful Old Houses in the Philippines House of Philippine National Artist Ramon Obusan Tags: architecture, doors, entry, entrances This is all for now, Cecilia

Philippine American writer Cecilia Manguerra Brainard blogs about her travels, writings, life, politics, history, and more.

Philippine American writer Cecilia Manguerra Brainard blogs about her travels, writings, life, politics, history, and more.

Filipino Washerwomen Filipino Women (and a man) I found these vintage images, courtesy of Etsy and Amazon. I also found this comprehensive information about Vintage Postcards from a Philippine Inquirer Article: "For collectors of Philippine picture postcards, the early series of cards produced in the first decade of the 20th century are considered the most beautiful. They are not necessarily the rarest as they were produced at the height of an unprecedented postcard boom. However, the quality of these chromo-lithographic cards has never been surpassed. Initially a black-and-white photo was taken and from this a black-and-white lithographic plate made. The images were then hand-colored and subsequent color plates were made, sometimes with the addition of clouds in the sky and imaginative coloring for indigenous costumes. Most of the printing and coloring was commissioned by American and European postcard publishers and done in Germany, which had the finest printers. The First World War, starting in 1914, abruptly ended this international industry and signaled a decline in the quality of cards. "During this golden age of postcard production from 1900 through 1914 numerous Filipino, American and European publishers issued sets of Philippine cards. The largest series of several hundred different images was started in Manila by a Leon J. Lambert about 1907 and bore his name on the back. He initially issued a series of cards in black and white depicting tribal minorities and views of Manila and the provinces. Usually the caption was in red and the image occasionally had two or three light colors added. In 1909 he joined with Milton Springer to form the Lambert and Springer Company and much more sophisticated color plates were used. For several years this partnership produced many of the most beautiful cards ever made of Filipino people and views. In time the company broke up and the same images with different colors and declining quality can be found under new logos. This loose exchange of original images with no identification of the photographers was common practice until well after the Second World War." ~~~ Read also Images of the Filipina in Literature How Tall Is the Filipino Woman? Pre-Colonial Gold in Cebu Photos courtesy of Etsy Tags: women, Filipinas, Philippines, Filipino, beauty This is all for now, Cecilia

Philippine American writer Cecilia Manguerra Brainard blogs about her travels, writings, life, politics, history, and more.

Philippine American writer Cecilia Manguerra Brainard blogs about her travels, writings, life, politics, history, and more.

I've got a cold! I caught a chill yesterday, which probably contributed to my condition. Here I am with a sore throat and runny nose. My eyes are watery and I feel lethargic. Here's what I've been doing to help myself. I've been gargling with salt water to help the sore throat. I started taking a 500 mg L-lysine, and a 500 mg Vitamin C, twice a day. L-lysine is supposed to kill viruses. I've been drinking ginger tea. I'm using a saline nose spray. I'm also resting. I'll be taking a lot of chicken soup. I get the packages with chicken bits, as this is easy to prepare. And oh, I've been rubbing Vick's VapoRub on my chest, neck, and forehead -- this is very comforting! This brings back a lot of childhood memories! The Mayo Clinic recommends to stay hydrated, rest, soothe a sore throat with a saltwater gargle, combat stuffiness with saline nasal drops and sprays, relieve pain with acetaminophen, ibuprofen, or aspirin, sip warm liquids, add moisture to the air, and try over-the-counter cold and cough medicines. People have other suggestions, such as taking zinc and selenium. I'm hoping this cold doesn't linger. Read also Herbs as Natural Remedies Fresh Turmeric in Los Angeles, California How to Make Tea from Hibiscus or Gumamela Flowers How to Make Gugo or Gogo Shampoo Tags: health, natural treatment, common cold, what to do This is all for now, Cecilia

Philippine American writer Cecilia Manguerra Brainard blogs about her travels, writings, life, politics, history, and more.

Philippine American writer Cecilia Manguerra Brainard blogs about her travels, writings, life, politics, history, and more.

'The Newspaper Widow': A cut above other whodunits

To honor my friend and teacher, Rachelle Benveniste, who passed away recently, I am reprinting one of her numerous publications. She was a fine writer, teacher and friend. Rest in peace, Rachelle. Writing from the Inner Self by Rachelle Benveniste Reprinted from Contemplative Journal Take a gentle deep breath, and as you exhale, relax, letting go of the activities and concerns previous to this moment so we may relax in the present moment, the only moment that is. You might want to take another gentle deep breath, and as you exhale, relax even more. Now, we will rest in the stillness, for just a moment or two, and if thoughts intrude, as they often do, don’t scold yourself, just allow them without becoming engaged in them. Just let them drift on by, like drifting clouds, and come back to your breath, breathing you. We remember that we come here together to uplift and support each other in our creativity, in our very lives, welcoming the entire creative process, the stillness from which all inspiration, all ideas and all words emerge. We welcome every word we write, knowing we need not defend what we’ve written or judge it because there are so many more words waiting to birth themselves through us. And, we remember that what we have to say, no one else can say. What we have to say is important and valuable. And really let that reach you on a deep level. Take another gentle deep breath, and as you exhale, you might want to wiggle your toes and fingers, and when you’re ready, just gently open your eyes to this moment, still retaining the stillness within. This is how I begin my class, Writing from the Inner Self, which I created while teaching through UCLA’s Writers’ Program. When students walk in the door, they have most likely been sitting in heavy traffic on the freeway, have come from work, or have been fulfilling life obligations. So, I begin each class with a contemplative practice to remind us why we are here: to connect with our creative spirit, with ourselves, and with each other. Before meditation, we place the chairs in a circle so we can all share the creative experience in a more intimate setting where we can see each other’s faces as we listen to each other’s words. I find that sitting in a circle invites a more honest and open connection among students, and in rearranging the space we write in, we invite the sacred. The contemplative spirit in each of us is honored in this space and contributes to the inspiration, support, and encouragement—creating the essential atmosphere for a course called Writing from the Inner Self. In class, we write freely, letting our intuition move through us, setting aside any judgment and welcoming every word we write. Whether one has just begun to write or is a seasoned writer, this type of writing requires vulnerability. Before creating Writing from the Inner Self, I was teaching a creative writing class at a junior college, while concurrently taking a fiction writing class through the UCLA Writers’ Program. At the end of the quarter, the instructor pulled me aside and invited me to teach her course while she took a sabbatical. I taught Autobiography into Fiction the following term and followed her curriculum: giving assignments, discussing the elements of fiction, and offering feedback with keen eyes, ears, and compassion. It was a good class, but I felt something was missing. Something was missing from most writing classes I’d ever taken. The class descriptions I saw in most catalogs went something like: Basic Fiction, Fiction 1, Fiction 2, Intermediate, Advanced, etc. In these classes, instructors spoke of character development, dialogue, plot, point of view—all valuable elements of writing. But one question continued to ring in my consciousness: Where does the story come from? How is it birthed? All of the information on structure and elements of fiction seemed like a skeleton. How did one find the heart of the story? The flesh and blood? How did that happen? I’d been writing for many years and, more and more, I had come to trust what I realize now was my intuition. Writing the Organic Way Writing from the Inner Self is not about “Writing a Book in Seven Days” or “Seven Ways to Capture Your Reader’s Attention.” To tell you the truth, when I read writing class descriptions like that, everything in my body tightens. I don’t want to write a book in seven days! I don’t want a recipe that doesn’t honor what I honor most: my inner self. Only my intuition allows the mysterious process of putting pen to paper (or fingers to keyboard) and not knowing what will emerge. This is where revelations and insights are born. This is where we discover what we did not know before. And this is where we feel most alive and experience the deep fulfillment of creativity. To say “Here are the seven steps, this is the way to do it,” feels like someone or something is ripping the inner child out of me. Albert Einstein said “I have no special talents. I am only passionately curious.” Children experiment in their play. They allow themselves entry into the unknown, which opens way to the wonder and awe that awaken curiosity. Children are our teachers. I think of a poem I wrote when I was experiencing a dry spell (which is the title of the poem.) I wrote and wrote and wrote and then this arrived: Some question persists, A curious urge To reach the secret I still keep from myself This same spirit invites and allows us to ask, “How did the Universe come into being? What exists in the mystery of its vastness?” In watching images of the Hubble Telescope, I am humbled and amazed. Sometimes I watch videos of NASA astronomers in the lab: they have discovered something new. I see them filled with joy. Laughing. They are not working just to accomplish a goal. They are wildly curious. Of course, they are also extremely knowledgeable, but knowledge alone isn’t enough. They are curious enough to want to grasp the greatest mysteries of who we are, why we are here, how the universe came into being. What does this have to do with writing, with facilitating writing workshops? Everything. Each of us is a mystery. Yes, we can talk about and write about the facts of our lives, the events of our history and how we respond to them and how they integrate into the tapestry of our being. And that can be absolutely fascinating in itself. But Writing from the Inner Self takes us beyond external facts and history to the heart of mystery. Trusting the Process Coming to what wants to be written with child-like wonder requires letting go of the linear methods that restrict the creative landscape within us. This means losing control of our minds, in the best sense, and instead, paying attention to our intuition. In Einstein’s words, “The intellect has little to do with the road to discovery. There comes a leap in consciousness; call it intuition and the solution comes to you and you don’t know how or why.” Perhaps it is our intuition that draws us to a particular book and we don’t know why. And then reading it, we see that it responds to the very questions and concerns we’ve been asking about. Often when I browse through books when I’m in middle of a writing project, I find words that respond to what I’ve been writing—and in just a moment an insight arrives and places itself within me. This experience, for me, is exultation. It’s one of the reasons I write. But, of course I don’t always listen to the prompts from my intuition. Perhaps because I’m too tired, or my consciousness is asleep. But we need not worry. Our intuition is always available when we are receptive and ready to trust. What is the actual definition of intuition? Though it is indeed a mystery, the word intuition comes from the Latin verb, inturi, which is usually translated as to look inside or tocontemplate. Intuition is thus often conceived as a kind of inner perception, sometimes regarded as real lucidity or understanding. To be receptive to the wonder of your intuition requires a quiet mind. We live busy lives with many distractions. The continual technical progress of our day, including the onslaught of information from the media, the Internet, Facebook, and on and on, can be overwhelming. So, what a gift it is not to be bound by these external stimuli, but to make choices that serve us and our creativity? We give ourselves permission to do nothing, whether for an hour, an afternoon, or a weekend. We must take time for ourselves. What is it that brings you that peace, that inner silence? Perhaps going to a neighborhood park where you can sit by a pond with ducks, a stream where the water tumbles over rocks creating a sound that soothes your mind and soul, or you lie down on a bench beneath Japanese elm trees, enchanted by their long, lacy leaves that sway in the breeze above you. This is time for yourself, not a time to push your intuition to gift you with images and insights, but to relax and daydream, letting your mind wander and bring calm to your very being. In this place the muse will visit you. Not necessarily every time, but your creativity will bubble up within you as it will. Writing Books and Intuition Seventeen of my students have published books. Of those students, approximately twelve of them wrote their books from start to finish while enrolled in my class. None of them came into my class to write a book. Had that even been suggested, they probably would have walked out the door. I’ve been privileged to witness these people delve deeply into themselves and the creative process, becoming dedicated to completing their books. In this process, I’ve witnessed transformations, spiritual breakthroughs, emotional healing. (As well as writing that knocks your socks off!) I have seen the deepest despair transcend into joy. I have seen students reluctant to write the truth out of fear rise up triumphantly to their calling. At first, they might have been concerned about what others would think— crippled by fear of not being good enough, fear of doing it “wrong,” fear of being made a fool of, of being embarrassed, of revealing themselves. This is one of the reasons my intention is to provide a safe and sacred space for my students. And in this space, they open their hearts, hone their craft, and discover continually how deeply their stories, memoirs, and informative nonfiction books affect others. In overcoming their fear of being vulnerable, they have forged deep connections with others by articulating their readers’ own hidden thoughts. As psychologist Carl Rogers wrote, “That which is most personal and unique in each of us is probably the very element which would, if it were shared or expressed, speak most deeply to others. This is what has helped me to understand artists and poets who have dared to express the unique in themselves.” Writing our truths becomes the golden thread that stretches from the ancient past to the present, where we realize that we are not alone, that we hold a shimmering strand in the web that connects us all. I don’t teach my author/students to write books. I had no idea this was going to happen—I just do what I always do. After our meditation, we begin each class with spontaneous writing that is ignited by a prompt that I provide. Sometimes it’s a handful of marbles, other times it might be an envelope holding a single leaf. I sometimes show an image of someone expressing troubling emotions, or a variety of faces that portray a wide range of feelings. Or I place on the table images of vast and rugged landscapes and seascapes: glaciers rising like cathedrals of ice shimmering with aqua marine, a banyan tree with its extravagant roots spread across the earth. Sometimes it’s a bowl of sliced oranges and a small box of Sunmaid raisins for each student. I emphasize to the students that there are no expectations for these spontaneous writings—there’s no right or wrong way to write them. And if something in them rebels against what I have provided, then I say, “Go with that rebellion! Write from your authentic self.” “What are we to write?” Someone asks. “A story? A poem?” “Don’t worry about form,” I say, “Just write. In time the form will find you.” How does that grow into a story, a novel, a memoir? Here is an example. I recall the day one of my students announced to members of the class that her third spontaneous writing was on the same theme as her two previous writings. “I’m boring everyone,” she announced. I assured her she was not boring anyone, but more important than that was that it seemed a particular theme wanted her attention. That freed her and week after week her story rolled out of her. And so it was with other students as well. They may not have written on the same theme week after week, demonstrating that writing is more like walking up a spiral staircase than a straight “climb to the top” ladder. Writing is the practice of paying attention, of being in the here and now, being aware of what we are feeling: despair, loneliness, fear, joy, delight, How do we feel emotionally and how do our emotions express themselves in our bodies. Does our neck feel tight or relaxed? Shoulders, head, arms, legs, and feet? The poet May Sarton wrote, “Absolute attention is prayer.” Is this not the reponse we feel when we are face to face with a thing of beauty? Our worries and concerns dissolve and our minds become still. Our ego has become quiet and we become nameless in the face of the lavish jacaranda tree, its petals strewn on the grass like tears turned into lavender blossoms. Or what you see may break your heart, causing tears to break from your eyes and your pen finally hits the page. In the words that splatter on the page, something rises in you that you did not expect. It may be after hours of throwing word against word that this deep sadness has awakened something from long ago, something that you did not remember until this very minute, a sadness that has etched itself inside of your skin. And now at last it is freed and flowing from your pen. Soon you will read it again and again, holding in your hand a word that wants to join the other words that are being written through you. You place this word where you feel it belongs and it trembles on the page. And this is how that golden thread pulls you into higher realms of consciousness. ~~ Read also Rachelle Benveniste's Poem "The Moth" 10 Famous authors on the Importance of keeping a journal Explosion and Drawing as Writing Exercises Your Writing Workspace The Importance of Sensual Writing Vintage pictures that help me write my novel - Paris, Barcelona, Ubec How to Write a Novel #1 How to Write a Novel #2 Tags: Rachelle Benveniste, creative writing, literature, poet, writer, writing teacher This is all for now, Cecilia

Philippine American writer Cecilia Manguerra Brainard blogs about her travels, writings, life, politics, history, and more.

I tried to find links that would show how difficult the war in Syria is to the civilians, and I came up with these. It may sound like a cliche but civilians are the ones who suffer the brunt of the war -- my heart goes out to them especially the children. FIRST, THE FILM, Syria: The Horror of Homs, a City of War, won the Emmy last October 2, 2013. This film, done by the French photojournalist Mani, is very touching. I was particularly moved by the people singing the Revolutionary Song, "Get Out, Bashar!" by Ibrahim Qashoush who was reportedly assassinated because of this song. The journalist, Marie Colvin, who was killed alongside the French photographer, Remi Ochlik, during the siege of Homs, had said, "I think the sickening thing is the complete merciless nature. They're hitting civilian buildings mercilessly and without caring. The scale of it is just shocking. Syria: The Horror of Homs, a city at war http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SyQIv5wyYGE ~~~ And here are some excerpts from news articles. I chose these because they show the suffering of the civilian population in Syria as a result of the War. The Syrian people are literally starving. A FEW WEEKS AGO, "the last remaining tunnels the rebels were using to bring in supplies were discovered by the army and destroyed. Now, all the people have to eat is what they had in storage", said Abdel Rahman. Speaking to AFP over the Internet, an activist on the ground said: "The days when we had one meal a day are gone. Now we have barely even that. "I've heard of individual cases of people eating cat meat out of sheer desperation," said the activist who identified himself as Yazan. He warned the severe shortages of food including sugar and other sources of energy were causing diseases to spread in the besieged neighbourhoods. "Most people in the siege are malnourished. You can tell by the way people look and move. More and more people have a low (disease-fighting) white blood cell count and jaundice," said Yazan. "Common illnesses like the flu spread quickly. People are weak. All we have is bulgur to eat. We're eating one kind of food day in, day out." From: http://www.dailystar.com.lb/News/Middle-East/2013/Oct-25/235767-rebel-areas-of-syrias-homs-need-food-aid-sources.ashx#ixzz2jZDBQcIK (The Daily Star :: Lebanon News :: http://www.dailystar.com.lb) ~~~ ANALYSTS SUGGEST that regime forces are intensifying efforts "to try and starve out" the rebels from the areas as a result. In the rebel-stronghold Eastern Ghouta area, for example, the regime forces have reportedly increased blockade efforts over a week ago, preventing food and supplies from entering the area. Ghouta residents worry that the developing conditions will soon be comparable to those in the malnourished suburbs west of the capital, where food deprivation has resulted in several cases of death and illness. "Last week, the army managed to seal the last smuggling route from Damascus that we used to get food and flour. If we don't find a new opening, we'll be destroyed," said an activist, speaking by Skype. Recent clashes in the village of Mleiha has closed the only other possible route to obtain food and fuel, according to the activist. Aid works have also struggled to access the areas to provide supplies and medical treatment due to blockades and clashes between regime and rebel forces. From; Regime Blockades in Damascus intensify, clashes reported in Homs ~~~~ AT LEAST THREE of Damascus's suburbs - Yarmouk, Eastern Ghouta and Moadamiya - have been besieged by government forces for several months. ... The situation has become so desperate that earlier this month Muslim clerics issued a religious ruling allowing people to eat cats, dogs and donkeys just to survive. Those animals are usually considered unfit for human consumption in Islam. For months, the UN and other aid agencies have been calling for urgent help, fearing the worst for the people of Moadamiya. "We didn't see a piece of bread for nine months," one woman told the BBC. "We were eating leaves and grass." From: Starved Syria Civilians Flee Besieged Damascus Suburb ~~~~ Take a look at these links: How to help Syrian Refugees Syria Fires Official who tried to broker peace Israeli Warplanes strike inside Syria for fifth time this year No Role for Assad in 'peaceful and democratic Syria' List of Journalists Killed during the Syrian Civil War Siege of Homs Read also my earlier entries about the War in Syria Syrians fleeing war at rate not seen since Rwandan Genocide Syrian Revolutionary Poem & Destruction of Khalid bin Walid Mosque Children and the War in Syria The Rape of Women and the War in Syria Writers and the War in Syria Poet and Song Writer, Ibrahim Qashoush, Victim if Syrian War Jesuit Priest, Paolo Dall'Oglio - Another Casualty of Syrian War Two Organizations helping the children of Syria - re the War of Syria Assad Used Chemical Warfare in Syria - 1,300 dead in Ghouta In Solidarity with the Syrian People - Two Revolutionary Poems Testimonies of Syrian Chemical Attack and Assad Continues Heavy Air Strikes Formation of Syrian Rebel Alliance is Exactly What Assad Wants Request for Prayers for Monasteries in Syria and Egypt Assad is Responsible for Carnage in Syria, from Washington Post Catching up with news on the War in Syria Who Was Right - Gandhi or Che Guevara? photos courtesy of The Syrian Revolution 2011 tags: Syria, Syrian, Middle East, Assad, war, conflict, revolution, Aleppo, Homs, Damascus, children, genocide, chemical attack, starvation, civilians All for now, Cecilia

Tomorrow is Mother's Day and I'm posting some pictures of my mother, Concepcion Cuenco. Her parents were Mariano Jesus Cuenco and Filomena Alesna. She married my father, Engineer Mariano Manguerra, and they had four children. I'm the youngest. These first two pictures show her when she was nineteen years old, the Carnival Queen of Cebu in 1931. Her father was a politician and my mother was on top of the world at this time of her life. The picture below was taken when I was fourteen. We were dressed for my older's sister's debut. I was born with beri-beri and almost died at infancy. My mother was always solicitous of me. She had miscarried a baby boy during World War II and I suppose the idea that children are fragile was always in her mind. She kept me by her side and she used to force me to take Vidaylin vitamins and a raw egg yolk every day. She also fed me bone marrow and allowed me to sip the foam from my father's beer. I also had to drink milk every morning. Since we didn't have fresh cow's milk, it was evaporated milk with water and sugar, like baby formula. This photo was taken in Toledo, Spain. My mother was visiting my sister in Madrid when she became sick. I visited them, and we toured Toledo, Sevilla, and Granada. Mama and I were busy talking when the photographer snapped our picture. I wish I could erase that child in front of us. The following pictures show my mother even older. She was blessed with a long life, and she continued to dance even when she was in her late eighties. She always danced for exercise, even at a time when it was not a popular activity to do. My mother never cared much about what other people said. She was a strong person to the point of bullheadedness. She was very charming though. My mother died in 2002 but I still remember her clearly. I think sometimes her spirit guides me or prays for me. Poor Mama - a mother's work is never done. Remember your mothers, dear Readers! Read also These site have information about Philippine Carnival Queens, updated by Cecilia Brainard in 2022. Cebu Carnival Queens Philippines from 1914-1941, including Concepcion Cuenco Manguerra - https://cbrainard.blogspot.com/2022/01/cebu-carnival-queens-philippines-from.html Cebu Carnival Queens and Other Queens, Philippines - Part 2 - https://cbrainard.blogspot.com/2022/01/cebu-carnival-and-other-queens.html Mother's Day: Pictures with My Family Mother's Day Coming Up 2014 Death of a Carnival Queen: 1912-2002 Cuenco Family

Philippine American writer Cecilia Manguerra Brainard blogs about her travels, writings, life, politics, history, and more.

Hi, I'm sharing my short story, "Waiting for Papa's Return", which is part of my first short story collection, Woman with Horns and Other Stories. This story also appeared in the anthology Home to Stay: Asian American Women's Fiction, edited by Sylvia Watanabe and Carol Bruchac, Greeenfield Review Press. It was also published in Making Waves: An Anthology of Writings by and about Asian American Women, edited by Asian Women United of California, Beacon Press. Woman with Horns and Other Stories is easily available in its Kindle ebook form. ~ #CeciliaBrainard ~~~ WAITING FOR PAPA'S RETURN by Cecilia Manguerra Brainard Copyright 2018 by Cecilia M. Brainard, all rights reserved. When Reverend Mother Superior tells Remedios her father died, all she can think is how ugly the nun looks. Remedios stares at the mustache fringing the nun's upper lip; Reverend Mother Superior stares back with pale watery eyes. “This morning, child. Heart attack,” the nun says. In the distance the three o'clock bell rings as if repeating the nun's words. It is an October Thursday, warm and humid. The sound stays with Remedios as the nun brings her to the chapel. “Let us pray so your father will go straight to heaven,” she whispers. They kneel on the front pew and Remedios closes her eyes. The ringing that echoes in her head fades and she hears her father's voice loud and clear: I'll be back in two weeks. She clings to those words, mulling over them. I'll-be-back-in-two-weeks. That means next week because Mama and Papa have already been gone for a week. She pictures her father with his oval face, his gold rimmed glasses, and his balding head. Leaning on his cane, he asked, “What do you want me to bring?” “Mama says she'll buy me shoes, clothes, candies, and chocolates.” “But what do you want?” his gentle voice prodded. “A walking doll and a tea set like Mildred's. Not the plastic tea set, I want the kind that breaks.” “All right,” he replied, tousling her dark hair. “I'll scour all of Hong Kong and I'll bring you your doll and tea set.” Those words her father said and he never lies. Remedios is confused: Reverend Mother Superior is the most important person in school and she doesn't lie either. She must have made a mistake. Papa and Mama will be back next week from their vacation. Remedios thinks things over, trying to find a reason for this misunderstanding. Was it because she and Mildred giggled in church at the fat woman singing in a warbling voice? Mildred elbowed her in the ribs and they were bad, no doubt about it, snickering in the back row instead of paying attention to Father Ruiz's novena. The chapel smells of melted wax, and when Remedios opens her eyes, she studies the bleeding Jesus nailed to the cross. “I'm sorry for having been bad,” she prays over and over, until Reverend Mother Superior stands up and says, “Your aunt is picking you up, child.” They find Tiya Meding in the office. She is wearing a brown dress; her face is pale, her eyes, pink-rimmed. “Poor, poor child,” she mumbles. In the car she looks at Remedios in a way that makes Remedios think her aunt is trying to discover something in her — and Remedios does not know what. Feeling awkward, Remedios rolls down her window and watches the hawkers selling lottery tickets, boiled bananas and soft drinks. Her aunt delicately blows her nose and sniffles. “Look, there's the woman in black, dancing in front of the church,” Remedios points out. “Crazy woman,” Tiya Meding answers. “Papa says she's pathetic.” “Pathetic, my food. She's as loony as they come.” Remedios keeps quiet; pathetic is how her father describes the woman in black. Her aunt's chauffeur — that is what Tiya Meding calls her driver — brings them to Vering the Dressmaker. Remedios is surprised that she will have a dress sewn, and she nods approvingly at the design: puffed sleeves, boat neck and shirred skirt. “And pockets, two square pockets,” Remedios says. Vering sketches in the pockets. “And I don't want this black cloth. Yellow organdy would be nicer.” The two women eye each other. “But the dress has to be black,” Tiya Meding insists. “I don't like black. Papa says I look prettiest in yellow.” “The dress will be black, Remedios.” Her aunt sets her jaw and Remedios knows there is no use arguing. Before leaving the dressmaker's shop, Tiya Meding asks for pieces of black cloth the size of postage stamps, and she pins one on Remedios' blouse, right above her heart — a little bit of black cloth that flutters when the warm breeze blows. At school she is the center of attraction, like the actress Gloria Romero or the one-eyed freak with the Chinese Acrobatic Troupe, stared at by everybody. When she picks up her schoolbag, the children glance curiously at her. The visitors streaming into Tiya Meding's house look at her, and when she and her aunt go to the funeral parlor and church “to make arrangements,” people study her. Remedios feels as if her nose were growing from her forehead. Pairs of glassy eyes follow her aroundand she does not know what they want, how to escape them. At her aunt's house, she tries to amuse herself by inspecting the numerous porcelain figures in the living room — pretty dainty women with ducks beside them, little angles kneeling down in prayer, but her aunt snaps: “Don't touch those. They're breakable.” She goes to the piano and plays “Chopsticks,” but her aunt lifts a reprimanding finger in the air. “The noise,” she complains. Tiya Meding is on the phone and Remedios listens to her. “Thank you,” her aunt says. “Heart attack. Isn't that too bad? I warned my sister. An older man like that.” Tiya Meding's diamond earrings dangle from her elongated ears and a huge diamond solitaire sparkles on her finger. “Baubles,” her father often says about Tiya Meding's jewelry. “She is a silly woman who likes baubles.” Remedios leaves the main house thinking to herself: Silly, silly woman. She goes to the dirty-kitchen and has a second lunch with the servants. Using her fingers, she makes a ball of rice and eats that with stewed fish. Later, she helps the cook peel cassava and grate coconuts. “Your father was a good man,” the cook says. “He made my son the foreman at the road construction.” “Yes,” Remedios replies, “I can't wait until he comes home.” After speaking, she wonders why she said those words at all. She understands what Reverent Mother Superior said, what all the commotion is about, yet deep in the very core of her, she knows her Papa will return. The kitchen is sooty and smells of grease and bay leaves. The cook, standing next to the huge wood-burning stove, looks at her. Remedios continues grating. She watches the curly slivers of white coconut meat fall into the basin. The kitchen smoke seems to engulf her and she feels warm. The pungent smell makes her temples throb. She begins to feel weak, just as she felt when her cousin told her she was adopted. He had lost in a game of checkers, and angrily, he told Remedios that her parents picked her up from a pile of trash, that she had been covered with fat flies. She did not cry; she crawled into bed to sleep off her tiredness. Her mother called the boy an idiotic pervert. Her father placed her on his knee. “See this bump on my nose?” he said. “Yes.” “Don't you have a bump on your nose like mine?” His warm finger traveled down her nose over the slight protrusion. She nodded. “That mean that you are my very own little girl. We didn't adopt you.” The darkness lifted, and the next time she saw her cousin, she stuck her tongue out at him. But now the tiredness stays and she drags around until bedtime. It seems she has just tucked the mosquito net under the mattress when she falls asleep and has a dream. It is Sunday, and she, Mama and Papa are driving over bumpy, dusty roads to Talisay Beach. Remedios is happy because she enjoys clamming in the small inlet. But when they arrive, the sea is blood-red and smells foul. Remedios cries and her Papa asks why. “Something terrible has happened,” she says. “It's all right,” he answers. “I'm right beside you.” She dries her eyes and, noticing that the water has turned blue and air clean once more, laughs and hugs her Papa. “Don't cry. It makes me sad,” her father says in her dream. She wakes to Tiya Meding's voice telling her the plane is arriving in less than an hour. Trying to get excited, she bathes with her aunt's Maja soap and dabs Joy perfume behind her ears. Like a sleepwalker, she puts on her new black dress, white socks, and black patent shoes. Remedios ties yellow ribbons at the ends of her braids, but Tiya Meding removes those. “Not for a year,” she says. Heavy-faced people wearing somber clothes crowd at the airport. They stare at Remedios and she tries hard to figure out what they want from her. She laughs. “I can hardly wait to see them,” she exclaims in a high thin voice. Pairs of eyes follow her, letting go only when the noisy plane arrives with a loud screech. The special cargo plane stops near the terminal, and some men open the side doors and struggle to bring a casket down. When Remedios spots her mother walking down the ramp, she runs shouting, “Ma!” The mourners around her pause. “Ma, where's my walking doll and tea set?” Her aunt tells her to be quiet. “She's just a child,” someone says. “Just a child.” Her mother appears dreary in her black dress — Remedios really hates that color — and she weeps constantly. She will not talk, will not tell Remedios that everything will be fine. A hollow feeling roots inside Remedios and sometimes she feels like a conch shell sitting on the writing desk. Other times it seems she is hanging on a thin thread, like the gray spider that swings back and forth from the ceiling. She feels odd, as if waiting for something to happen so all the staring will end, so the strangeness that has invaded her life will disappear. The next day there is a Mass, then the men carry the coffin to the funeral car, so black and slick. When it starts raining, people scramble for umbrellas or newspapers and they mutter: Ah, a good sign, heaven is weeping. She, Mama and Tiya Meding walk behind the funeral car to the old cemetery with gray crumbling crypts. Some women hold umbrellas over them to keep their heads dry. Remedios trudges along, splashing in puddles, watching the slum children playing in the rain. At the cemetery, the men pick up the coffin, carry it to the family crypt, and open it. The priest sprinkles holy water inside. Her Mama, who emits wailing sounds and whose shoulders are shaking, bends over to kiss the man inside. Remedios has not looked, but she knows that a man is in there. She had heard people talking: “Looks like he's sleeping, doesn't he? They sure did a good job.” Her Mama turns to her and Remedios walks toward the casket. Tiptoeing, she peers in. The man's face is a waxy mask. He doesn't wear glasses and his tight little smile is a grimace. There is a smell like mothballs. Remedios feels faint. She wants to giggle, but stopping herself, she bends over and plants a kiss on the wax-man's cool cheek. The men close the coffin and slide it into the crypt with a grating sound. There is a dull thud when the marble slab covers the niche, and briefly, Remedios feels a lurching inside her stomach. She closes her eyes and hears that voice loud and clear: I'll be back in two weeks. I'll bring you our doll and tea set. When she opens her eyes and sees the mourners crying, for just a brief moment, she understands that they want her to weep, that they have been waiting for her to cry. But soon she is thinking of dainty tea cups, the smooth feel of delicate china, the clinking sound as the cup hits the saucer. She is seeing her father smiling broadly as she hands him his cup, and they make a toast pretending to sip tea under the cool shade of the lush star apple trees. ### Tags: #Philippines #Filipino #Cebu #Visayan #literature #fiction #book #writer #story #goodreads #Philippineliterature #philippines #librarygirl #pinoyreads #fiction #shortstories #Cebu #Manila Read also: Novel Excerpt from The Newspaper Widow: The Old Mansion Near the Plaza by Cecilia Manguerra Brainard Novel Excerpt from Magdalena: Winning Hearts and Minds (1967) by Cecilia Manguerra Brainard Fiction/short story: Manila Without Verna by Cecilia Manguerra Brainard Fiction/short story: Flip Gothic by Cecilia Manguerra Brainard Fiction/short short: The Turkish Seamstress in Ubec by Cecilia Manguerra Brainard Fiction/short story: Romeo by Cecilia Manguerra Brainard Fiction/short story: 1943: Tiya Octavia by Cecilia Manguerra Brainard Fiction/short story: The Black Man in the Forest by Cecilia Manguerra Brainard

Someone forwarded this Biography of me in Enotes.com. The bio mentions the name of the street I grew up, a name that is known to few people --- the name of the street has changed -- so I'm curious how the writer even knew about this. I do like the reference to the Babaylan, a powerful female figure in the Philippines. Here's the bio: Cecilia Manguerra Brainard Biography Born one year after the Philippines gained its independence, Cecilia Manguerra Brainard was surrounded from the start with a sense of her country’s having been born at almost the same time as herself. After centuries of Spanish colonialism, more than four decades of American control, and four years of Japanese occupation, finally, in 1946, Filipinos were free to determine their own future. The Americans had helped prepare for this moment through elective models and had fought side by side with Filipinos during the war, and the Americans were vital to the difficult postwar reconstruction, but Brainard grew up well aware of her fellow Filipinos’ own proud contributions toward establishment of an independent Philippines. The street on which she lived in Cebu was called Guerrillero Street in honor of her father, a guerrilla and then a civil engineer involved in rebuilding shattered Philippine cities. Many of the anecdotes in her first novel, Song of Yvonne, came from tales of war remembered by her family. As a result, even when Brainard left home for graduate studies at the University of California at Los Angeles in the late 1960’s, she brought with her an identity as a Filipina. She married a former member of the Peace Corps, Lauren Brainard, who had served on Leyte, an island close to Cebu. In California, she worked on documentary film scripts and public relations from 1969 to 1981. Then she began the newspaper columns later collected in Philippine Woman in America, which describe the enrichment and frustration felt by Philippine Americans who are straddling two cultures. Conscious of her own Americanization and anxious to provide her three sons with cultural choices, she formed Philippine American Women Writers and Artists, an organization intent on publishing remembered legends and scenes from the contributors’ childhoods. Brainard’s organization was intended to provide a continuum of presence from varied pasts to a shared future. Such dedication to the “memory of a people” is in the ancient Philippine tradition of the female babaylan, or priestess. Cecilia Manguerra Brainard Bibliography (Society and Self, Critical Representations in Literature) Suggested Readings Casper, Leonard. Sunsurfers Seen from Afar: Critical Essays 1991-1996. Metro Manila, Philippines: Anvil, 1996. Zapanta Manlapaz, Edna. Songs of Ourselves. Metro Manila, Philippines: Anvil, 1994. Read also YouTube Interview of Cecilia Brainard by Jeepney Books Enotes.com - Asian American Filipino American Long Fiction Enotes.com Brainard's Woman with Horns and Other Stories Summary Interview with Cecilia Brainard by Allison's Book Bag Interview of Cecilia Manguerra Brainard about Creative Writing Interview of Cecilia Brainard "Good and Bad Reasons for Being a Writer" Interview Cecilia Brainard for Students and Campus Bulletin, Philippines Cecilia Manguerra Brainard Biography in Wikipedia Tags: Philippines, Cebu, Sugbo, Visayan, Filipino, literature, writers, authors, novelist, Filipina, Cecilia Brainard, Interview, students, research, Cecilia Manguerra Brainard This is all for now, Cecilia

I was with friends recently and am sharing some pictures. It was a good time to bond with old friends because the loss of Hillary Clinton presidential big in the US has made me and many friends sad and concerned. The picture above show Linda Marsa and Linda Venis, friends from the Writers Program of UCLA Extension. The writer, Nadine Sarreal, visited me the day after Election Day when we were reeling from Hillary Clinton's loss. After a nice lunch at The Terrace, a walk on the pier, tea, short bread cookies, and prayer, we felt better. (There's a picture of Nadine and my cat Tesla.) Last weekend, I saw classmates from high school and college at the Skyline Hills Library where I gave a presentation. That's Maryknoller, Bing Velasco Jacala to my right and St. Theresa's College graduate Vivian Yang Chua to my left. It was a delight to see these old friends. Folks, I'm still trying to digest the Trump victory in the US and may remain stunned for a while. For now, this is all. Cecilia Read also Sphagnum Almost Killed My Orchids Typhoon Haiyan: Jews in the Philippines - 1940 & 2013 Post-War Cebu Life - More Memorabilia Photos of Cecilia Brainard Syrian Revolutionary Poem & Destruction of Khalid bin Walid Mosque Creative Writing: The Importance of Sensual Writing Creative Writing: Journal Writing and my Pink Lock and Key Diary

LAING is a Filipino native dish from Bicol province, Northern Philippines. Since I was born and raised in Cebu, Southern Philippines, the dish was alien to me until I visited Northern Philippines. Laing is a creamy vegetable dish that reminds me of spinach. It's very flavorful and rich. Here is a recipe and comments from my friend Maria Ciocon about the making of Laing. Ingredients: 20 pieces gabi leaves, dried and shredded 1/2 kilo pork belly, diced 4 cloves garlic, minced 1 small ginger, minced 2 large onions, chopped 5 jalapeno pepper, sliced 1 cup coconut cream (kakang gata) 2 cups coconut milk (gata) 1/4 cup shrimp bagoong 1/2 teaspoon monosodium glutamate (MSG) 1 teaspoon salt Prodecure: Mix the taro leaves, pork, garlic, ginger, onions. Pour in the coconut milk and bring to a boil. Simmer for 15 minutes. Add jalapenos, bagoong, and salt to taste and simmer for another 5 minutes. Add the coconut cream and cook until the oil comes out of the cream. ~~~ Here are Maria Ciocon's comments about how she makes Laing (she makes the best Laing I've ever had): Your taro or gabi leaves should really be dry because if not your throat will get itchy. Cut gabi leaves. Your sahog will be shrimps, dried fish (daing), pieces of pork with fat to make it tasty. Don’t use beef, it will not give it flavor. Slivers of ginger and little garlic; onions. 1 can of coconut milk or two depending on amount of gabi leaves Bagoong (shrimp paste) chili -- small red or green ones, depending on how hot or spicy you want it to be. 1. saute your ginger , garlic, onions 2. add your pork, shrimp or daing 3. add your leaves 4. pour your coconut milk, not the top or creamy portion. (do not dilute your coconut milk with water) 5. season with bagoong, and when leaves are wilted or look more or less like pureed, add creamy portion of coconut milk 6. when ready to serve add chili; if you put the chilis in early the Laing will really be spicy Your dish should look like spinach dip with a little oil from coconut oil, it shouldn’t look watery. Since this is a poor man’s dish, you can just put all of the above together, let it boil. When creamy (like a spinach dip) add your creamy part of the coconut milk. Add or season with bagoong and add your chilis. Read also: Cooking with Cecilia - Pancit Bihon Guisado, Filipino rice noodle dish Cooking with Cecilia Brainard - Quiche Cooking with Cecilia Brainard - Linguine with Clams Cooking Lengua Estofada Food Essay - Fried Chicken Caribbean-style How I Learned to Make Leche Flan (or How I Met my Husband) Cooking with Cecilia - Leche Flan (Vietnamese Style) Recipe for Balbacua Cebuana from Louie Nacorda Easy Filipino Recipes from Maryknollers Cooking with Cecilia - Beef Bourguignon Cooking with Cecilia - Chicken Soup for my Bad Cold Cooking with Cecilia - Short Bread Cookies and Friar Tuck in my Kitchen! Filipino Cooking: Carol's Recipe for Corn Bibingka Tags: Filipino cooking, food, recipe, laing, taro, gabi This is all for now, Cecilia

I'm sharing with you pictures of my two paelleras and favorite paella recipe. I got the stainless steel paellera from Madrid, Spain, decades ago. It was somewhat expensive but I really wanted it. It was a wise buy because I've used it a lot. The copper one came from Chile. A group of us were in a car when we saw a man selling copper pots and pans by the side of the road. We stopped and I bought this one. It has a lid, but the lid has irregular patina, so it hasn't been included in my blog. I could polish the copper with lemon juice to shine it up, but I actually love the dull copper patina, so I'll leave it alone. This is all for today, dear Readers, because as you can see, I have a lot to do to prepare for Easter Sunday. May you have a blessed and wonderful Easter! This is a great recipe for a crowd. Salad and lengua or roast beef goes well with paella. Top it off with leche flan for dessert. PAELLA 1/2 lb sausage olive oil 1 chicken, cut up 1 1/2 lbs pork, cubed 1 large red pepper, in strips 1 yellow onion, diced 2 garlic cloves, chopped 2 tomatoes, medium, diced 1/3 tsp saffron 1 1/2 cup long grain rice 1 1/2 cup shrimps 1 10-oz frozen peas 12 mussels of clams salt to taste 4/6 cups chicken broth Heat olive oil. Saute onions, garlic, and tomatoes. Add pork and chicken and cook, stirring constantly, around 15 minutes. Add sausage, salt, pepper. Add rice, stirring until coated with oil. Mix with other ingredients. Add saffron to chicken broth. Slowly pour broth into the pan until the contents are covered. Arrange mussels, clams, shrimps, pepper on top. Simmer to cook rice. Add water if needed. When rice is almost cooked, sprinkle peas on top. Read also: Cooking with Cecilia- Pancit Bihon Guisado, Filipino rice noodle dish Cooking with Cecilia Brainard - Quiche Cooking with Cecilia Brainard - Linguine with Clams Cooking Lengua Estofada Food Essay - Fried Chicken Caribbean-style How I Learned to Make Leche Flan (or How I Met my Husband) Cooking with Cecilia - Leche Flan (Vietnamese Style) Recipe of Balbacua Cebuana from Louie Nacorda Easy Filipino Recipes from Maryknollers Cooking with Cecilia - Beef Bourguignon Cooking with Cecilia - Chicken Soup for my Bad Cold tags: food, wine, paella, holiday, party, seafood, recipe, cooking, paella, paelleras This is all for now, Cecilia

Philippine American writer Cecilia Manguerra Brainard blogs about her travels, writings, life, politics, history, and more.

Today, December 7, is the 76th Anniversary of the bombing of Pearl Harbor, which started World War II in the Pacific in 1941. I wrote about the coming of age of a young girl during World War Two in the Philippines. When the Rainbow Goddess Wept first came out as Song of Yvonne in the Philippines, but Dutton/Penguin picked it up in the US. Later the University of Michigan Press published it as well. This novel has been in print since 1991. It is the most circulated of my books. Here are some reviews of the book. The book is available from Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/When-Rainbow-Goddess-Arbor-Paperbacks/dp/0472086375/ref=mt_paperback?_encoding=UTF8&me= KIRKUS REVIEW: A fast-paced, sensitively written first novel about the psychological damage war wreaks, seen through the eyes of an intelligent, resilient young girl. During WW II, as Japanese forces invade her native city of Ubec in the Philippines, nine-year-old Yvonne Macaraig escapes with her father and mother into the mountains, where they stay in villages whose inhabitants are fighting the Japanese. Yvonne's father, an engineer, joins a guerrilla regiment. In wartime, Yvonne learns, people change. Her mother bears a stillborn baby in the jungle while Japanese soldiers lurk nearby, prevents an enemy soldier from stealing their chickens, then asks Yvonne's father to kill the prisoner of war he takes. Her father refuses, but confesses after he shoots the man for trying to escape that he enjoyed killing him, as revenge for the dead baby. When Yvonne's father disappears on a mission, the girl develops the ``practicality'' war requires. ``I wondered what we would do if Papa were really dead. Would the guerrilleros cast us aside...?'' She refuses to give up hope and ``learns how to will [her] father to live...centering [her] energy on keeping Papa alive.'' The author, herself born in the Philippines, skillfully interweaves realistic events with myths of women fighters and goddesses, as well as fantastic dreams. She relates dramatic events in an understated way, such as the family's ride up into the mountains on horseback with a spare horse carrying dynamite, and she enhances our understanding of Yvonne's pre-war world through the use of ironic details: In the Ubec cinema ``the roof leaked....From the loge, one could see the movie reflected upside down on the wet floor.'' Brainard's appealing characters are larger-than-life people who change before our eyes, yet remain utterly convincing. And another review by Publishers' Weekly: Yvonne Macaraig is an exuberant and mischievous nine-year-old when the Japanese invade her Philippine homeland in 1941, and so she begins her grim story of endurance and survival with a spirit of adventure and optimism. Her father, Nando, an American-trained engineer who's invaluable to the guerrilla movement, is often called away as Yvonne, her mother and a small family entourage flee toward presumed safety ever deeper in the jungle. Yvonne witnesses scenes of incredible carnage and silently notes the slow decline in her mother's health, but her spirits are buoyed by the Philippine folktales narrated to her by the family cook. These myths and legends, violent and colorful, extol the gallantry of ancient warrior kings or show the triumph of love and valor over subjugation. In simple yet deeply moving prose, Brainard's first novel presents similar acts of monumental courage: a doctor's sacrifice in the jungle; quiet defiance against terrorist threats. Gradually, Nando and his companions become aware that the U.S. is capable of betraying them-and that Philippine independence is a necessity. The strengthening of the national spirit; the loss of innocence in two generations-these themes are explored by the author, who was born in the Philippines, with persuasive conviction and stark realism. Tags: literature, World War Two, war, novel, military, Pacific war, WWII, Philippines, book, writer Read also From Cebu to Ubec: Inspiration for The Newspaper Widow Women and My WritingCreative Writing: The Importance of Sensual Writing Creative Writing: Journal Writing and my Pink Lock and Key Diary Creative Writing: Your Writing Work Space (In My Case, Where My Cats Hang Out) Oscar V. Campomanes' Cecilia Manguerra Brainard Scenographer

I haven't checked my Author's Page in Amazon.com for a while. The page includes my books and ebooks available at Amazon. Here's my Author's Page - click on the url: http://www.amazon.com/author/ceciliabrainard Read also YouTube Interview of Cecilia Brainard by Jeepney Books Enotes.com - Asian American Filipino American Long Fiction Enotes.com Brainard's Woman with Horns and Other Stories Summary Interview with Cecilia Brainard by Allison's Book Bag Interview of Cecilia Manguerra Brainard about Creative Writing Interview of Cecilia Brainard "Good and Bad Reasons for Being a Writer" Interview Cecilia Brainard for Students and Campus Bulletin, Philippines Cecilia Manguerra Brainard Biography in Wikipedia Tags: author, writer, Philippines, Filipino, Philippine American, novelist, literature, books #philippineliterature This is all for now, Cecilia

Philippine American writer Cecilia Manguerra Brainard blogs about her travels, writings, life, politics, history, and more.

The Public is Invited to the: 2016 Second Annual Literary Symposium, Jackson Tennessee Sponsored by the Friends of the Jackson-Madison County Public Library Fri. April 22 - 6 p.m. Cecilia Brainard will talk on "The Impact of Filipino History and Culture Upon American Literature" at St. Mary's Catholic Church, 1665 Highway 45 Bypass, Jackson, Tennessee Sat. April 23 - 1:00-2:30 p.m. - Cecilia Brainard will Talk and Read at the Library in Jackson, Tennessee The Events are Open to the Public. Please confirm with venues and times with the library. Read also Eleanor Ty's writeup on Cecilia Manguerra Brainard in Asian American Novelists, p. 29 Interview of Cecilia Brainard by Daniel M. Jaffe Interview of Cecilia Manguerra Brainard by Dana Hubler (Poets & Writers, 1997) Possibilities of Humaneness in an Age of Slaughter, by Leonard Casper (re Song of Yvonne/When the Rainbow Goddess Wept)

I enjoy movies like Shakespeare in Love and The Man Who Invented Christmas. The first one is a fictional romantic comedy about Shakespeare infatuated with Viola de Lesseps during the time he was working on Romeo and Juliet. The Man Who Invented Christmas relates how Charles Dickens came to write the novella, A Christmas Carol. These movies amuse me because it's true that some writers will take bits and pieces and weave these into their stories. The facial expression that the movie-Charles Dickens gets when a name or event strikes him as "material", reminds me of when something hits me too, and my creative self recognizes this as important in my work, and I feel as if I'm in twilight zone. In some cases, these bits of inspiration are a throw-away statement or anecdote overheard, or some bit of information that the author read, or a name that strikes his/her fancy, a bit of truth, a bit of fantasy, a memory, some imaginings. Even the author hardly knows just where exactly the characters, or scenes, or details from his/her creation came from -- not with precision, because the creative mind whips around here and there collecting material and tailoring these until the end product is new. I'm sharing some sources of inspiration that have worked their way into my third novel, The Newspaper Widow. I'll start with my protagonist, Ines Maceda, the 39-year old widow who has to find out who killed the Augustinian priest in 1908 in order to free her son from jail. Ines Maceda was inspired by my great-grandmother, Remedios Diosomito Lopez Cuenco, the mother of my grandfather, and the grandmother of my mother. Here are some facts about Remedios. She originally came from Naic, Cavite, in the Philippines. She married my great-grandfather, Mariano Albao Cuenco, when she was only thirteen. She bore sixteen children, although only four survived to adulthood. Her surviving sons were: Maria Jose who became the Catholic Archbishop of Jaro; Mariano Jesus who at the height of his political career became senate president; Miguel who became a congressman; and a daughter also named Remedios who was known for her storytelling skills. The husband of Remedios, Mariano Albao Cuenco, came from Capiz and he settled in Cebu where he was a poet, teacher, writer for a revolutionary general, Court of Clerk to the American Judge Carlock, and he also founded and ran the Imprenta Rosario which published several newspapers. He ran for governor, but lost. He died in 1909, leaving Remedios with four children and the Imprenta Rosario to run, making her the Philippines' first woman publisher. My fictional character, Ines Maceda, is a thirty-nine-year old widow, who lives in Ubec with her son, Andres Maceda, in their house on Colon Street. (She had two miscarriages early in her married life with the literature professor, publisher, and political contender Pablo Maceda.) As a young widow Ines is forced to run her husband's newspaper business, The Ubec Daily. When Andres is picked up and jailed as a murder suspect of an Augustinian priest, she and her friend, the French dressmaker, Melisande Moreau, solve the crime. The reader will note that my mythical Ubec is sometimes a lot like the real place of Cebu. These places generally share the same history, culture, and folklore. But there are also differences. I generally tweak the geography according to what is needed in the story. For instance The Newspaper Widow has a leper colony called Culyo near Ubec. In fact, there is no such leper colony on an island near Cebu. There is a Culion leper colony, but it's farther from Cebu, off of the island Palawan. When I work on my story, there is a world in my imagination that builds as I write. The characters, places, and all aspects of this world are introduced or changed to fit the "story." I cannot give Ines Maceda sixteen pregnancies, nor four children, because even though my model, Remedios, actually had sixteen pregnancies and four surviving children, this situation will not work in The Newspaper Widow. I cannot have her marry Pablo Maceda at the age of thirteen, because what was acceptable in Philippine society back in the early 1900s, would raise eyebrows in the 21st century. In many ways I write so my images are crisp; the scenes have to be relevant. My story has to move along in an understandable, non-cluttered way. And of course, my characters have to be as real as flesh-and-blood; they must develop/change as the story happens. In the end, even though "reality" inspired the novel, such as real people or real places, in the book these are no longer real but are fictional. To those who have not yet read my novel, I share with you a recent advanced review by Foreword Reviews. The book is now available from Amazon and from Kindle https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0785MMKB4. Here also is the book trailer of The Newspaper Widow: https://youtu.be/cNe8rS3dAXU BOOK REVIEW FOREWORD REVIEWS The Newspaper Widow, a novel by Cecilia Manguerra Brainard published by the University of Santo Tomas University Publishing House distributed by PALHBOOKS.com Softcover $18.95 (238 pages) 978-971-506811-6 While at first glance The Newspaper Widow seems like a standard historical mystery, that couldn’t be farther from the truth. Cecilia Manguerra Brainard’s novel is full and complex, overflowing with textured, fully realized characters who drive the story on every page. Ines Maceda, the “newspaper widow,” aims to clear her son’s name. He has been accused of murdering a priest. In addition, Ines grieves for her deceased husband and combats the lingering trauma of earlier miscarriages. Her development is one of the shining elements of the novel—she feels tangible, rooted in the story and the setting. The Newspaper Widow offers a nuanced glance into Filipino society circa 1908. It is a world rich with history, myth, and ritual; descriptions pulse with life, providing crucial insights into aspects of Filipino culture and world colonial history, such as encounters with the “Island of the Living Dead,” sectioned off to contain those inflicted with leprosy, and once the world’s largest leper colony. While on the surface the book is a crime story, the plot is actually layered and unique. One of the novel’s greatest strengths is how it raises interesting, complicated questions about morality and justice while Ines searches for the priest’s true killer: Is death ever an apt punishment for a crime? Is revenge moral, or even necessary? Refreshingly, nothing is black and white. For all of The Newspaper Widow’s greatness, sometimes there are too many layers to the plot, and the ending falls a bit flat in comparison to the rest of the narrative. But flaws are minor; overall, this is a solid, satisfying work of literature. Cecilia Manguerra Brainard displays masterful storytelling skill in The Newspaper Widow, a unique, memorable mystery. MYA ALEXICE (Jan/Feb. 2018) ~~ tags: writing, how to write, book, writer, novel, mystery, murder, literature, Philippines, Filipino, Ubec Read also: Women and My Writing Creative Writing: The Importance of Sensual Writing Creative Writing: Journal Writing and my Pink Lock and Key Diary Creative Writing: Your Writing Work Space (In My Case, Where My Cats Hang Out) Oscar V. Campomanes' Cecilia Manguerra Brainard Scenographer

Recipe for Carol's Cornbread Bibingka Carol Ojeda-Kimbrough shares with us her recipe for Bibingka Galapong, a favorite Filipino "cake." Carol says she arrived at this recipe by trial and error, by playing with different recipes until she got the taste and texture just the way she likes. CAROL’S CORNBREAD BIBINGKA INGREDIENTS 2 cups rice flour 2 cups fine yellow cornmeal (or corn flour if you prefer a smoother texture) Pinch of salt 2 tablespoons baking powder 6 well beaten eggs 1 ½ cups sugar 6 tablespoons unsalted butter, melted 2 cans (13.5-ounce) coconut milk ¼ cup whole milk 1 to 2 (15-ounce) cans creamed corn (depending on your taste) Banana leaves to line baking sheet/pan (13x18x1 inches) 1 tablespoon melted unsalted butter 2 tablespoon granulated sugar for topping INSTRUCTIONS Preheat oven to 350 degrees F. Line a half sheet baking pan with aluminum foil (not necessary, I just do so because I’m lazy and this keeps the pan clean) and then line that with banana leaves (cut according to the size of the pan and pass over a flame to soften the leaves); set aside. The banana leaves give a nice aroma to the bibingka. Or if you are using the pie tins/pans, line with banana leaves (or spray with PAM if not using banana leaves). Set aside. (If you don't have banana leaves, you may use parchment paper, greased with butter or PAM). In a bowl, place rice flour, cornmeal flour, salt, and baking powder, and stir together until fairly mixed. In a separate bowl, beat eggs until fluffy, then add sugar and melted butter, continue whisking until foamy. In a large bowl, add wet and dry ingredients, coconut milk and whole milk (I use the whole milk to “rinse” the coconut tins so I can get all the coconut milk). Mix until all ingredients are thoroughly incorporated. Add the creamed corn and mix. Pour batter mixture into prepared pan. Bake for 30 to 40 minutes or until browned (a toothpick inserted in the center comes out clean). The cooking time will vary according to the size of your pan so do the toothpick test to be sure. Remove from oven when done, spread/brush melted butter on top and sprinkle with about 1-2 tablespoon sugar. Cut into squares (or wedges) and serve. Read also: Recipe for "Mochiko" Bibingka Cooking with Cecilia - Pancit Bihon Guisado, Filipino rice noodle dish Cooking with Cecilia Brainard - Quiche Cooking with Cecilia Brainard - Linguine with Clams Cooking Lengua Estofada Food Essay - Fried Chicken Caribbean-style How I Learned to Make Leche Flan (or How I Met my Husband) Cooking with Cecilia - Leche Flan (Vietnamese Style) Recipe for Balbacua Cebuana from Louie Nacorda Easy Filipino Recipes from Maryknollers Cooking with Cecilia - Beef Bourguignon Cooking with Cecilia - Chicken Soup for my Bad Cold Cooking with Cecilia - Short Bread Cookies and Friar Tuck in my Kitchen! Filipino Cooking: Laing or Taro Leaves in Coconut Milk ~~~ tags: cooking, recipes, food, cake, cornbread, bibingka, Filipino, Philippines This is all for now, Cecilia

It's Father's Day this Sunday, June 15! In my family, I have meat-eaters, non-meat-eaters, and vegetarians, so this Father's Day I'll have tri-tip meat, salmon, and vegetarian dishes. I already have my tri-tip marinating. Here's what I do with the tri-tip. I wash the pieces, and then I put them in a big container. I squeeze lemon over them. (Since I only had one lemon, I squeezed an orange as well.) I pour in apple cider vinegar and soy sauce. I throw in crushed garlic, pepper, bay leaves, some chile, some Himalayan Pink Salt, which I find tastier than regular iodized salt. I let the meat sit in the marinade overnight or even longer to allow the meat to soak in the flavor. I will grill (or the guys will) for around half an hour. Let the meat rest for a while before cutting into thin slices, against the grain. I will also make potato salad. I will wash and boil potatoes; I will not peel them, I will cut them up, add cutup hard boiled eggs, relish, salt, pepper, mayonnaise, yogurt (so I can minimize the mayo which is very rich), and some horseradish sauce to give it some oomph. (My homemade potato salad is very good.) I also have salmon for the non-meat eaters, fresh corn, and Tres Leches Cake for dessert. Sounds good, as I write this. Enjoy tomorrow, Father's Day! This is an old picture of me and my Papa. Read also: Health: Visualizing Bible Scenes for Physical Healing How I Learned to Make Leche Flan (Or How I Met My Husband) Cooking with Cecilia - Filipino Barbecue Pork This is all for now, Cecilia

Philippine American writer Cecilia Manguerra Brainard blogs about her travels, writings, life, politics, history, and more.