Having been a volunteer for six decades, I have strong personal feelings for this beautiful culture of kindness. It awakens a latent magnanimity through sheer involvement in something greater than oneself. With imagination and style, dedication and lots of work, it also creates friendships, fulfillment and inexplicable joy.
For hundreds of years they lived unnoticed and unknown, eight Mangyan tribes in the mountains of Mindoro. They harvested rice, corn, bananas and wild yam, and bathed in rivers and streams. They enjoyed the wisdom of innocence and the courage of strong men. And while their customs differed, they lived in gentle harmony and never had tribal wars.
THE RAFAEL M. Salas Parks and Nature Center is a pristine ecotourism destination at the base of Mt. Kanlaon in Bago, Negros Occidental. A place where forests touch the silence of the sky, it is a tribute to the majesty of nature, and the nobility of diplomat and statesman Rafael M. Salas.
LONG before Spanish conquerors came to our shores, we enjoyed a lavish and highly sophisticated culture. Gold jewelry was worn with extravagance by women and men alike—necklaces and woven belts delicately crafted to sheer perfection.
It had been 20-odd years since I was last in Silay, and driving through the dated streets of the city, we noticed how nothing had changed except, perhaps, for faded paint and a few broken windows.
Philippine art was a lively force that swept through Manila in the 1950s. With isolated studios like the hidden gems of a city, it was a time of discovery, excitement and self-expression.
On the eve of my 76th birthday in May, I felt a rare excitement. With people living to be 100, I wondered about the long years that lay ahead of me. Would my life be more of the same, or could a new passage possibly begin?
It was 1947, and postwar Manila was full of promise. I was eager to study at Maryknoll College, a progressive school run by American missionary sisters. It used American textbooks, and was known for excellence in teaching the English language.
The history of beads may have begun when a woman of imagination impulsively threaded a shell and tied it around her neck. Suddenly she felt beautiful, bewitched by the joy of adornment.
