Monday, November 14
Still in Dumaguete.
Friends from OTHER countries are PMing me on facebook as to how they may obtain autographed copies of EPJ's books.
We're letting EPJ sleep through 8:30 AM this morning before a 9:30 AM media conference at the American Corner and a long trip to Writers Village on Mount Talinis. Yes, long. So long that I may not be able to go on-line and post the highlights of the day tonight.
But, I'm now blogging at La Residencia Hotel on the boulevard. According to Ian Casocot, during the American Period this building was the governor's mansion.
We've just come back from a full program day:
This morning, EPJ had a press conference participated in by Reno Tallada of ABS-CBN, Iphraim Cabristante of DYSR-FM, Choy Gallarde of Sky Cable, Melissa Pal and Kirk Roncesvalles of The Weekly Sillimanian, and university journalists Alana Narciso, Philip van Peel, L.F. Partosa, Jennifer Solitana, and Myla June Patron. What a great session this was!
EPJ and the Embassy Team then rode with Ian and Alana to Writers Village on Mount Talinis. A scrumptious lunch with the Dumaguete writers community followed by readings on the porch: the Dumaguete writers from their own works, EPJ his first story in Lost in the City and the beginning of another from All Aunt Hagar's Children. A dynamic discussion ensued: the local writers bared the Filipino soul to EPJ, epj, the American soul to them.
It rained, fog descended, and we were freezing--all except EPJ, who loved the weather and kept an electric fan aimed at him!
If the morning session was great, this session was amazing! The Filipino writers presented brilliantly truthful works--I was PROUD TO BE A FILIPINO!
There was fabulous bonding between EPJ and the local writers. As usual, EPJ autographed his books and posed for facebook Pictures the entire day.
At the end of the day, Silliman University gave EPJ a Certificate of Appreciation signed by the university president.
Well, it's not exactly the end of the day. We have a few minutes of down time before Ian and Moses Atega--Dumaguete's and Siquijor's living encyclopedia--pick us up for a special dinner at Lab-as, renowned for its exquisite sea food.
I'm in the lobby of La Residencia Hotel again; it's now the following morning. Our dinner last night was a gastronomic highlight of our visit. We had garlic crabs courtesy of the owner of the restaurant and the chef, crab soup, oysters (three kinds: baked, steamed, and raw), fresh tuna, and Dumaguete Express.
After dinner Ian and Moe took us to Cafe San Antonio to check out the place. Moe informed us that the Ambassador wanted to visit Cafe San Antonio because he is interested in meeting young entrepreneurs. (The Ambassador had to postpone his visit last month to early next year).
Will and I had our favorite at Cafe San Antonio: evil espresso. Cafe San Antonio in itself, however, is the spectacular delight it is reputed to be. it was recently sold by the owners (an old riche family) that moved in to the paradoxically modernized condominium across the street, looking out unto their former property. The Cafe is an old villa converted to an activity center; it has a restaurant, a cafe, a ballroom, a patio, and a shop, among others. It also has resident blackbirds, and I don't mean caged pets; you have to see them to believe them.
Incidentally we were shown a magnificent window looking out unto a back street. I reenacted the hotel-key-throwing scene from The Roman Spring of Mrs. Stone, which cracked up everyone. (If you don't know what that is, forget it. You don't want to know. What really surprised me, though, was that ALL of my companions knew Mrs. Stone. Including EPJ. EPJ and TW somehow spell out surrealism.)
I shan't repeat here (wow, "shan't"--when was the last time you heard that word?) all the stories, gilded and ungilded, of Moe about Dumaguete and Mindanao. Like Frankie Jose, Moe is an irresistible ranconteur. Just trust me when I say that all of us could have sat there the entire night, except that I had to remind everyone, we had a flight to catch the next day.
At Lab-as and at San Antonio EPJ could not escape being hounded by new fans who were either after his autograph or his photograph.
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