This is a thank you for the stories you sent us (about Filipinos or not) who live or lived or had a connection to the Filipino areas of downtown Los Angeles from the early 1900s to 2012.
VIGNETTES ~~
. . . from the Storytellers of “Filipinotown, USA -
Collected Stories and Neighborhood Maps, Los Angeles”
FIRST, the feeling.
This is an excerpt from a letter written to Bonnivier from one of the storytellers:
“I'm glad I've connected with this creative writing project. I'm glad I can pay tribute to my father and people who helped shape my childhood experiences in this neighborhood space we all shared and share. . . . As I mentioned in an earlier speech, when I attended the reception following the funeral service of Ed Ramolete's mom, I saw many childhood friends, and a rush of joy entered into my heart. It was a feeling I hadn't felt in a long time.
“So our journey back into the old neighborhood has brought me reminiscences which is a form of meeting. I have been meeting up with my father and uncles and been taken to a place in my heart that apparently has always resided there. As I grieve the recent loss of some of my contemporaries and family friends, I reminisce about the love, joy and affirmation they brought me.”
from Gerald Gubatan
NEXT, the writing workshop warm up exercise, focusing on sound and sight while listening to Mozart and glancing at a candle flame:
from Greg Englis
from Gregory Villanueva
THIRD, excerpts from first drafts of Stories for the Collection:
in the area where the Harbor Freeway Exit 6 is located. . . .The tenants [were of] various nationalities; Syrian, Chinese, German, Italian, Indian and Filipinos would gather on holidays
and special occasions. . . .They became our extended family, and it was a unique and wonderful environment to grow up in. . . .Sammy Pascua and Sam Miguel were great cooks and would always bring many of their special dishes which we all loved. On one occasion they even barbecued a pig. They also loved to gamble, and so did my Dad.
“One day my mother and aunt went shopping and asked our friend and tenant, Sammy Pascua to watch me. . . .That afternoon I decided to crawl out on the three story ledge outside
our window. . . .”
from a story by Paul Lee
(2) Alice is the daughter of Eulalio Cabot Aguinaldo Cablayan (1899-1995) who was one of the first wave of Manongs recruited to work as laborers in Hawaii and Central California. He lived in Stockton for some time before he relocated and settled in Historic Filipinotown.
“It was the weekend before the Winter Solstice of 2010. I was attending a solstice ceremony at the Goddess Temple of Orange County to hear one of my spiritual mentors perform “Ave Maria” in
honor of the Divine Feminine in her aspect as the Blessed Virgin Mary. As she sang the deep, rich notes of Ave Maria, I was taken back to a time in my childhood when I first heard this song and experienced the Divine Mother.
“It was at a small church called Saint Columban in a section of Los Angeles in what is now known as Historic Filipinotown. Predominantly a Filipino congregation, the body of this church (as in
many Catholic churches) had deep reverence for the Mother Aspect of the Godhead by honoring the Virgin Mary. Each year, a festival was held in May to crown the Virgin Mary as the Queen of Heaven and a contest was held to raise funds for the church and for the festival. I could still smell the scents of white, long, burning candles amongst the sweet and subtle fragrances of carnation, lily and gladiola bouquets.
“This day was particularly special, because it was my coronation day as May Queen 1972 and I was going to have the honor of crowning the Blessed Virgin Mother as Queen of Heaven.
I didn’t know then that I would feel that presence in me again....”
from a story by Alice Cablayan
3) In the late 1930’s/early 40’s Ponce Cazem worked first for Cesar Romero and then for John Payne; both men were Hollywood stars.
“After [my father, Ponce Cazem,] was hired...as a houseboy and chauffeur, he moved into the estate located at Hermosa Beach and the second house in Redondo Beach. This was his lucky star, for Mr. Payne was a wonderful human being and treated him with dignity....
“On his days off, [my father] would hang out with other Filipinos that were chauffeurs and houseboys within the entertainment community. The group would visit [downtown L.A.’s] dance halls and parties and would flirt with the local females. [My father also met many]
daughters of. . .celebrities. Dressed up with the latest zoot suit and borrowing the fancy vehicle
of his employer, it was a sight to see and, apparently, the young ladies loved it.
“As the proverb goes, ‘All good things must pass,’ and the life of Reilly would come to a sober close when the minor, Gloria DeHaven. . .began a friendship with my father. . . .”
from a story by Mark Cazem
(4) This is a poem that grew out of our writing workshop on January 15, 2011, and came from the heart and hand of Carol Ojeda Kimbrough who “chose to leave [the terror of Marcos’ Philippines} and live.” The place of the poem is Los Angeles, and the year is 1975.
“There is no such thing as a silent night
In my neighborhood
The rhythmic sound of helicopters hovering
Hypnotic if not for the screaming sirens of squad cars below
Night time turns to day all too soon
As the glare of heavenly
Searchlights scattered, diffused
Covers a wide radius
Steps from predators chasing prey
Which one is which doesn’t matter
I’ve learned to tune them out
And make my own silence
Exhaustion does that
Weary bodies can’t hear
Or see
Or care
My son cries
Like he does every night
Because he’s hungry
Or wet
Or colicky
Or maybe he misses
My grandmother’s singing
As she gently rocks him
And soothes him
And loves him
Even if he is a bastard
That’s what they called children
Whose parents didn’t take the time
To get the holy father’s blessing
Even if they did love each other
Their children would be damned
And called names
So my Lola croons to her little bastard
And tells him: “It’s okay...everyone’s
A bastard in some way or another.”
But the biggest bastard of all
Was the one who pushed me to leave
And move to a foreign land
Where my tongue had to do somersaults
Just so people can understand
The words coming out of my mouth
Oh I could have stayed
And suffered the same fate as my son’s father
Whose body was never found
But not before they tortured him
And mocked him
And burned him
They thought they could silence him
So I chose to leave, and live
and speak for them
the dead, the maimed, the broken
For Liliosa, Amelia and Oma
For Lando, Joseph, and Ruben
Though the road on which they traveled
Ended far too quickly
My journey continues
Because
I chose to leave,
and live
and live.”
Read aloud/performed on February 19, 2011, by Carol Ojeda Kimbrough with other writers at the Morono Kiang Gallery, Bradbury Building, downtown Los Angeles.
ULTIMATE: The book:
“Filipinotown, USA -
Collected Short Stories and Neighborhood Maps, Los Angeles.”
These stories are being written by and about events, neighborhoods, and men and women of all ages who are mostly from Filipino descent, but certainly not all. The storytellers have either attended the writing workshops launched on November 6 , 2010, or they have phoned or emailed us : (Carlene (cbonnivi@gmail.com, Gerald (gxgg@att.net), or Greg (gvillan@aol.com).
Krispy Kake Kone Kompany.
The stories reach back to the first wave of Manongs in California (1906) to the present day Derby Dolls who roller skate atop grounds once covered by the
Music on this website from “Soul Sounds” by Little BrownBrother
Supported by Philippine Expressions Bookshop, Public Matters Group/UCLA,
SIPA (Search to Involve Pilipino Americans,
and PWC (Pilipino Workers Center).
