It has been an interesting week. The most powerful man on earth was here for a “sleepover.” I hope that on his seven-day swing of Asia, he did have “more fun in the Philippines!”
The visit of US President Barack Obama was historical. Thanks to television and the Internet, I had a virtual ringside seat.
Here are my sidelights:
I was teary-eyed hearing the two anthems played by the PC Band. It was great to see P-Noy and his entire Cabinet singing “Lupang Hinirang.” I was caught in the moment and sang along.
I told my daughter that, as a child, it was “Land of the Morning”; that both flags flew together on the same pole, but always with the stars and stripes above ours. That was eons ago, but it was still emotional to see them side-by-side, slapping briskly in the wind.
It was another hot afternoon in Manila. I chuckled at the look of relief on Obama’s face when he was offered a face towel to cool off. Wonder if it had a special scent, like the little welcome towels they give you at Kawayan Cove with a frosty glass of calamansi juice? Delicious!
Images of the state visit brought back Palace memories. I was a teenager the first time I entered Malacañang. Elpidio Quirino was President. We watched previews of Jane Powell and Elizabeth Taylor movies, all age-appropriate and approved by Mrs. Katy Pons Musser, who was in charge of our good friend, First Daughter and First Lady Vicky Quirino.
I was also there when she married Luis “Chito” Gonzalez. It was like a fairy tale, and all of us who cut our teeth on Emily Loring romances saw all the markings of “happily ever after.”
In 1960, I covered a state dinner in honor of US President Dwight D. Eisenhower. I wore a beautiful red taffeta terno by Ben Farrales and was escorted up the Palace stairs by two military gentlemen with lots of “fruit salad” pinned on their uniforms.
I almost forgot I was on assignment and felt very much like Cinderella when I dashed away before midnight to make my Manila Chronicle deadline. I practically flew down the stairs with my photographer who helped stuff me into our staff jeep, taffeta terno, high heels and all.
It was my first front-page story. What a thrill!
Obama hangover
Listening to the toasts and speeches by P-Noy and POTUS made me at once proud and sad. As sincere as both leaders sounded, I knew that as soon as they put their glasses down, their usual critics would have a field day bashing them. They did.
This is a jaded world we live in. There is no room for romantic notions. No one looks for a positive side. There are no more silver linings left to look for. I don’t know about you, but I refuse to be cynical. I would rather be carried away by rhetoric.
At the state dinner, the camera tried to show as many of the 300 or so guests who came dressed to the nines to see and be seen. I wonder if the guest list was planned according to protocol. Certainly there were people I didn’t expect to see.
One thing was clear. Everyone was smiling, taking selfies, thrilled to be breathing the same rarified air. Never mind their politics, forget their track records.
I noticed several former Palace residents. What memories did they carry with them? Sweet? Bitter? Angry?
Did they get a feeling of déjà vu? After all, once upon a time, all the bowing and scraping was for them.
I wonder if they miss it? Do they want it one more time?
The Obama visit was short and sweet. Watching him on his last call at the Manila American Cemetery and sure that his security was flawless, I still prayed for his safety.
It was a relief to see Air Force One finally take off, although in my heart I knew I shouldn’t have worried. Despite the loud and threatening noises from protesters and rabble-rousers, Obama was really safe here. Thank God.
Go ahead and call me colonial! But I was born and raised during the Commonwealth. Like 80 percent of our people, young or old, there’s a special place in my heart for America. The US was my home away from home for 30 years. Uncle Sam and I go back a long way. And I mean it when I sing, God bless America. So there!
In the news
Here at home, there’s a new list. Who has it? The lady spilled the beans and her latest “Who’s Who” fills one page of a yellow pad, single space. Each line, one name adding to our endless shame.
From South Korea, in the wake of the tragic ferry disaster, we learn about dignity and delicadeza.
A desperately distraught vice principal could not handle having survived while hundreds perished. He took his own life.
The captain who jumped ship faces life imprisonment.
President Park apologized to the nation.
Prime Minister Chung Hong-won, in his unconditional acceptance of command responsibility, has quietly offered to step down. Bowed with sorrow and shame, he said: “I think the right thing for me to do is take all responsibility and resign.” His resignation was accepted, but he must stay to see the crisis through.
In the midst of the grieving, at the height of chaos and anger, we catch a rare glimpse of discipline and character.
