*180. RECOLLECTIONS OF A CATECHISM CLASS

SPREADING THE WORD. Catechists of San Simon, Pampanga. With Fr. Francisco V. Cancio. Dated June 1949.

I was in my Grade 4 or 5 class when the teaching of catechism was introduced to students of Mabalacat Elementary School. I remember they were held once a week, on Fridays, right after our regular classes. I would often fret whenever Fridays came, as it meant staying for another hour in the classroom, to be drilled by our catechism teacher—actually, a uniformed high school student from nearby Mabalacat Institute with religious medals on her lapel—about prayers, the Sacraments and lessons from the Bible. Since I already had a couple of children’s religious books, the smart-aleck in me thought that I was already familiar with her catechism material.

I distinctly recall our catechism teacher starting her lecture with a question: “What was the sin of Adam and Eve that caused them to be driven from Eden?”. Of course, I knew the answer—I raised my hand and answered with confidence: “They ate the forbidden fruit—the apple!”. To my shock, the teacher replied that I was wrong. “Pride!”, she said, “it was pride that caused their downfall. And it’s one of the 7 Deadly Sins”. Cowed by embarrassment, I silently took my seat. In the Fridays that followed, I listened more intently, and soon, I was taking my catechism lessons more seriously.

For many Filipino children living in the colonial times, the teaching of the basic tenets of Christianity began early, using the caton, a primer on the alphabet, common prayers and religious doctrines. Catons were loosely based on Doctrina Cristiana, the first book published in the Philippines by the Imprenta de los Dominicanos de Manila and approved as a catechetical guide during the 1782 Manila Synod, under Bishop Domingo de Salazar. Catons published in different Philippine dialects, including Kapampangan.

The establishment of a formal system of education paved the way for the inclusion of catechism instruction in schools, particularly those founded by religious groups. The laity, encouraged and supported by their priests and parishes, took on the teaching of catechism in community schools as their apostolate, becoming an important force in the Church, especially from the 1930s through the post-war years.

This led to the publishing of catechism manuals, and one in Kapampangan, “Ing Canacung Catecismo”, was printed in 1938, a translation of an existing English version, “My Catechism”, by Rev. Fr. Vicente M. de la Cruz. The aims of the catechism books was outlined on the preface: “..macapariquil ya caring aduang tapuc a anac: muna, caretang arapat dane ing Mumunang Pamaquinabang iñang anac lapa, banrang ñgeni isundu at ganapanan ing pamagaral da qñg religion; at cadua, caretang aliua, bistat maragul nala, ditac lapa cabaluan qñg casalpantayanan, balang magsadia qñg carelang Mumunang Pamaquinabang” (the book is meant first, for children who have received their First Communion, so that they can continue their study of religion; and second, older ones who grew up knowing little knowledge of their faith, so they can be prepared for their First Communion).

Catechism instruction manuals followed the same structure—starting with a chapter-by-chapter presentation of the basic teachings (“Ing Dios, Miglalang Ampon Guinu”, “Ding Atlung Personas Qñg Dios, Ing Tanda ning Cruz”/ God, Our Lord and Creator, The Three Persons in God/ The Sign of the Cross, etc.), followed by a series of drill questions, with matching answers ( Q. Nanung pengacu ning Dios daptan, banacatang panuanan carin banua? A. Ing Dios peñgacu neng itubud quecatamu ing metung a Mañaclung / Q. What did God promise to do, so we can enter Heaven? A. God promised to send a Savior).

The teaching of religion as a separate subject was a requisite in the curriculum of every Christian school. To stress the importance, “Best in Religion” awards were given and held as much weight as a “Best in English” and “Best in Math” awards. Despite my assiduous studies, I never got that medal. But I did get to master my prayers: Ibpa Mi, Ing Bapu Maria, Ligaya King Ibpa, Bapu Reyna as well as recite the Rosary with its misterios, Apulung Utus ning Dios and Pitong Sakramento. In the end, by taking to heart the teachings of the Catholic Church, I was one step closer to Heaven, and in the mind of a 10 year old boy, I felt that was the better reward.

*179. PATRIOTISM IN A PUFF

LIGHT MY FIRE. Then, as now, smoking was a favorite Kapampangan past time. It also spawned a backyard industry in many Pampanga towns, where contracted workers rolled and wrapped cigars in lithographed paper packages such as this "La Pampanguena" brand from Angeles. ca. 1920s.

Cigar and cigarette manufacturing in our islands officially began in 1782, under the tobacco monopoly introduced by Gov. Jose Basco y Vargas. The 1st factory was located in Binondo, with space provided rent-free to the government by the Dominicans. Under the monopoly system, the government had complete control of the cultivation (only select provinces like Bulacan, Nueva Ecija and Pampanga were authorized to grow tobacco), processing and manufacturing of cigars and cigarillos. Thus began the first application of the factory system in the Philippines, where thousands of laborers, mostly women, reported to a central place of work, which were often cramped, hot and humid. Nevertheless, factories provided livelihood and the tobacco business accounted for the government’s biggest share of revenue.


When the monopoly ended 10 years later, private entrepreneurs rushed to cash in on the lucrative cigar/cigarette industry, setting up factories in Manila and nearby provinces. To protect consumers from fly-by-night operations, a cigar tax was imposed. Quality cigars were churned out by the millions by Alhambra and Tabacalera.

The cigar industry, however, failed to respond to changing consumer preferences in smoking, which was about the time the Americans arrived. When cigar production dwindled and mechanization of cigarette processing was launched, Filipinos switched to cigarettes or cigarillos. Cigarette companies like La Paz y Buenviaje produced a variety of brands, like the “Dollar” brand, capturing a whole new market of “sajonistas” altogether.


Turn-of-the-century cigarettes were often distinctively packaged in batches of 24s-30s, in wrappers with detailed graphics such as these examples of Pampanga provenance. Local entrepreneurs probably bought processed cigar leaves and engaged backyard workers to roll and wrap cigarettes in these 2-color, lithographed packages carrying assorted visual themes, often irrelevant to the product, ranging from the patriotic (pictures of heroes, Katipunan) to the mythical and romantic.



Notable example is the “Sinukuan” brand, from Plaza Sto. Tomas Pampanga, which has a truly local Kapampangan theme, showing a barebreasted Mariang Sinukuan holding a billowing flag with a range of mountains in the background. The back panel shows a Aeta workers gathering palm leaves in the middle of a tobacco plantation (!) with their leader welcoming a cigarette-smoking stranger.


A unique Betis wrapper, "La Reina Malaya" (The Malayan Queen), on the other hand, contains a nationalist verse that calls upon Filipinos to patronize Philippine-made products and not those made by our colonizers--highly seditious stuff on print!


On the other hand, “Las Dos Hermanas” brand from Bacolor is no different from the way we name small businesses even today (as in “3 Sisters Carinderia”).


The inappropriate “Ates” brand also carries the name ‘Nemecio Leonardo’, who may have been the entrepreneur, the same way “La Soledad” banners the name ‘Maria Consolacion’ of Betis. “Los Enamorados” (The Enamoured Ones) from the Fabrica de Pampanga Plaza Guagua simply defies explanation with a European boating scene that hints of a menage a trois, in the middle of the sea abloom with lotus flowers!


Today, these cigarette wrappers are being collected not just for their artistic merit, but also for their value as cultural ephemera, defining our taste for leisure and recreation under our colonizers.

*178. SMITTEN BY THE SMITHS

THE SMITHS GO TO ANGELES. Mr. & Mrs. Buford and Billie Smith, of Texas, with son, Eugene, on assignment at Clark Air Base. Longtime friends and tenants of our duplex apartment in Malabanias, Balibago in the 60s.

From the mid 1960s to the early 70s, Angeles, particularly Balibago, enjoyed a boom period as American servicemen poured into Clark Field by the hundreds. The Vietnam War was in full rage at that time, and the base housing facilities simply could not accommodate the overflow of incoming Americans and their families. To cash in on this growing market, many entrepreneurs went on a construction spree, developing whole subdivisions (like Severina Subdivision, Marisol Manor, Marlim Mansions, etc.), apartment complexes and houses for rent to Americans who opted to live off-base.

By chance, my father had a 650 sq. meter lot in Balibago, strategically located in Plaridel, very close to Clark. My mother, on the other hand, had another lot in Abacan, close to her brother’s large property, which had been successfully converted into a compound of apartments rented out to Americans on assignment in Clark. So, my parents joined the bandwagon of builders and had a duplex house made to American specifications on their prime properties.

The picture-perfect duplex in Plaridel was a small neat package with 2 wood floor rooms, a living room, a compact kitchen and a small front yard with flower boxes, ideal for a young family. As soon as the “For Rent” sign was put up, my father was besieged with inquiries from American servicemen—and that’s how we came to have the Smiths and their children, as tenants and eventually, as close family friends.

At home, my Kapampangan father always referred to them at home as “Ismits”, and that’s how we also knew them. From the Christmas cards they regularly sent, I learned that Mr. Smith was named “Buford”, or simply “Chuck” . Mr. Smith and wife Billie, were a tall, strapping pair, quick to smile and blessed with happy dispositions. My mother told me that Mrs. Smith had American Indian blood which accounted for her darker complexion. They were from a place in Texas called Burkburnett, which I always had trouble pronouncing. The Smiths were always invited by my parents to our family parties, and in one particular visit, I met their son, Eugene "Gene" Smith, who was about my age .

I remember that particular visit—I was about 10 or 11—because my father had asked me to keep him company and play with him while he and Ima entertained their friends. Gene was such a hyperactive child; he struck up a chat with me in rapid-fire English which I could hardly comprehend. I took out my second-hand bike and led him to my uncle’s house next door, which had a big cemented yard perfect for biking. As soon as Eugene sat on the bike, he started pedaling away like crazy, making dangerous loops and showing off some stunts. We soon attracted the attention of neighborhood kids who gawked at this boisterous American boy and his chaperone. Of course, Eugene became a sort of a trophy I could show off, and I made sure the local kids knew that, by conversing with him in my best Kapampangan English, within their hearing range. Eugene’s rowdy play came to a stop when he took the bike up a cemented incline and started to careen down at great speed, causing him to fall. Mr. Smith heard our commotion and called his scratched-up son home.

The Smiths lived in that duplex apartment for over 2 years, and every year, after Christmas, my father would help in their annual ‘spring cleaning’. All their usable discards were put in a big cardboard box and taken home. It was always exciting to open that box that held unimaginable second-hand surprises inside and us, siblings, would fight over the contents like mad. I didn’t care much for the American size clothing (my mother went agog over the knitted sweaters), but I went wild over the half-used coloring books, the slightly used toys (I remember a pair of tin wind-up motor cars), the Disney comics and the Mickey Mouse storybook that my elder brother coveted.

On special occasions like Christmas, we would get gifts—everything from American milk brands that came in waxed cartons to gift stockings stuffed with Brach’s candies, caramels plastic toys and licorice sticks. When my father had an extra dollar or two, he would ask his friend to buy a couple of items from the Clark commissary, if at all possible. Of course, he was never refused. We would get chocolates like M&Ms and Kisses, barbecue sauces, Revlon shampoo, cereals and shoestring potatos, never before seen in local stores. In one year, I got a giant box of 64 crayons that came with a built-in sharpener. Wow! I never even imagined that crayon colors such as periwinkle, sea green and gold existed, thinking at that time that this could only be possible in the U.S. of A. For while, I was smitten by the American dream.

So for a couple of years, while the Smiths stayed for their tour of duty, we had a peek of the American life, transplanted in a little duplex apartment along an unpaved road in Balibago. The Smiths even had a second son, Steven, born while on vacation in the States, but brought to the Philippines as an infant. I think Steven’s birth hastened the Smiths’ decision not to extend their stay in Clark. They flew back to the U.S. and shortly, we found another American family as tenants, the Kentalas and their six daughters.

The Smiths, resettled back in Texas, but they kept in touch every Christmas with cards, chatty letters filled with the latest family updates and pictures of the growing family, including the boys, Eugene and Steven. They kept this up without fail every year, until Mr. Smith’s retirement. One of the last letters we received was in the mid 80s, to tell us of Eugene’s forthcoming marriage to a local girl, complete with a newspaper clipping. The letters stopped coming altogether until we completely lost track of them.

But for a few short years in the turbulent ‘60s, we, the Castros and the Smiths, bridged the gaps of race, culture and creed to become true friends—Filipinos and Americans together-- with a genuine sincerity that knew no bounds.

*177. MANUEL CONDE: Kapampangan Khan of Films

THE ART OF KHAN. Manuel Pabustan Urbano Sr., better known as Manuel Conde, is recognized as one of the greatest Filipino directors of our time. He is credited for introducing Philippine movies to the world via his 1952 epic, "Genghis Khan", the film that took Venice Film Festival by storm. Rare autographed picture, ca. 1950s. Author's Collection.
When I started a career in advertising, one of the very first directors I met and worked with was Jun Urbano. It was the early ‘80s, and Jun’s reputation as topnotch director was already known in the industry, bagging plum assignments from major advertisers such as San Miguel Corporation, including the legendary Fernando Poe Jr. commercials for its beer brand. I was a fledgling copywriter for Magnolia then, and just had a series of TV ads approved for production. Jun Urbano was the one and only choice to shoot these ads. When I finally did meet him to discuss the storyboards, I was awed by the depth of his creative vision and artistic talent that obviously ran deep in his blood, being the eldest son of the famed director, Manuel Conde.

As we did more commercials together, Jun and I became fast friends. During shooting lulls, he would often talk about his father and how he was influenced by the cinema he created during the gilded age of Philippine movies. I was surprised to learn too that Manuel had Kapampangan roots, the son of an Italian mestizo, Dionisio Urbano, and Lucia Pabustan of San Fernando,  a Pampangueña who relocated to Daet, Camarines Norte in her teens.

It was here that Manuel was born on 9 October 1915. He was preceded by elder sisters Nena and Carmen. Lucia and Dionisio ran a zapateria and a bibingkahan to support their growing family, but they would meet early deaths, leaving their three children orphans. The siblings supported themselves by selling banana fritters in front of movie houses and that was where Manuel’s interest in movies began.

After graduating from the Camarines Norte High School, he left for Manila to enroll in geological engineering at Adamson University in 1931. He would play hooky and hang around Filippine Films and in 1935, he was signed up to work for the film outfit as an all-around production man, handling everything from spotlights to wardrobe and even doing stunt work. He also dabbled in acting, the job he came to love most. His first bit role was in the movie “Sa Tawag ng Diyos” helmed by Carlos Vander Tolosa, courtesy of a recommendation from Don Danon (stepbrother of Rosa Rosal, another half-Kapampangan actress).

Manuel ended his studies at Adamson and opted for a stable job with Marsman and Co. In 1938, he married Julita Salazar, a beautician, with whom he would have seven children, all named Manuel. The only girl in the brood was named Manuela. While with Marsman, he continued to moonlight as a performer, this time as ventriloquist with Borromeo Lou’s vaudeville troupe. He bought a dummy doll and renamed him Kiko Tolosa. Since it was difficult for the ventriloquist to say “Urbano”, he changed his last name to “Conde”, giving birth to a screen name that he would always be known for.

His foray into directing was a result of a missed opportunity, when, in 1938, he missed his boat to Java where he had been taken in to work as a mining prospector because he got drunk the night before. Director Carlos Vander Tolosa found himself an assistant director in the person of Manuel Conde, and in 1939, their film, “Giliw Ko” was released. Recognizing his worth, the producer Doña Sisang de Leon offered him his first directorial job, “Sawing Gantimpala” an LVN super production in 1940. Thus began a flourishing career as a successful director of renown.

He was well-known for his costumed fantasies for LVN, including “Ibong Adarna”, “Principe Tiñoso” and “Principeng Hindi Tumatawa”, which was based on a story by Doña Aurora Quezon. He struck out on his own in 1947 by forming his own MC Productions and came up with the very popular “Juan Tamad” series, which poked fun at the post-war Pinoy foibles. He worked with the future National Artist and good friend Carlos “Botong” Francisco in designing the look of his films. He followed his first “laffterpiece” with “Juan Daldal (Anak ni Juan Tamad)", but continued doing swashbuckling fanstasies like “Prinsipe Paris” and “Siete Infantes de Lara” in 1950 where he introduced a Mabalaqueña ingénue, Gracita Dominguez, the first wife of Dolphy.

That same year, Manuel started “Genghis Khan”, a result of his fascination with the great conqueror of Asia. He played the title role, supported by Elvira Reyes as Princess Lei Hai. Manuel shot the movie on a modest budget of P125,000, renting puny calesa horses to save money and shooting in Guadalupe for the rocky mountain scenes. It was premiered at the Times Theater in Quiapo on 7 November 1950 and turned out to be a dud, closing after 4 days. It did win the “Most Popular Motion Picture Award” in a 1951-52 poll conducted by The Herald and Manuel himself would reap a slew of acting and directorial awards, that earned him a Hollywood trip as part of his prize.

This led to a screening of Genghis Khan in Hollywood and the reaction to his film was very positive. In August 1952, the film was submitted for consideration at the Venice Film Festival. From among 780 film entries, Genghis Khan was chosen as one of 20 films to vie for awards at the prestigious film fest, a first for the Philippines. Though it did not win, Genghis Khan made waves and emerged as one of the most popular movie of the annual festival. The movie would be exhibited later in Salzburg, and in 1953, was screened at the Edinburgh Fil Festival where, once again, it thrilled audiences.

United Artists bought the film for distribution around the world, where it would later be dubbed in 16 languages and earning 17 million dollars.

Returning from his triumphant conquest of Europe, Manuel made more hits for LVN and for his own film outfit like “Ikaw Kasi”, “Handang Matodas” (starring Nestor de Villa and Nida Blanca), “Bahala Na”, “Krus na Kawayan” and “Bayanihan”. But it was his second series of Juan Tamad movies filmed from 1959-63 that would prove his mettle as an effective political and social commentator through films. The 3 Juan Tamad classics, “Juan Tamad Goes to Congress”, “Juan Tamad Goes to Society” and “Juan Tamad at Juan Masipag sa Pulitikang Walang Hanggan” entertained audiences while making critical statements about local Philippine culture, challenging traditions and taking swipe at political and laughable social practices.

Two years after his last Juan Tamad film, Manuel ran unsuccessfully for congressman of the 3rd District of Manila. In 1973, his son Jun Urbano directed him in the remake of “Siete Infantes de Lara”. He was forced out of his retirement in 1974 to direct the Lapu-Lapu episode of the NMPC-produced “Tadhana: Ito ang Lahing Pilipino”, but the historical epic meant to flag the Marcoses’ New Society was never shown to the public.

“Juan Tamad” was resurrected briefly as a TV series in 1979 and the following year, he appeared as the elder Juan Tamad to Niño Muhlach in the film “Juan Tamad Jr.”. He was inducted in the Filipino Film Directors’ Chapter of the Artists Hall of Fame for his lifetime contributions. He likewise was given the “Patnubay ng Kalinangan Award” from the Mayor of Manila in 1984. Manuel Conde, the Filipino movie great who showed the way for Filipino films to win international acclaim, passed away at age 69 on 11 August 1985.

POSTSCRIPT: After a successful stint as a commercial director, Jun Urbano reinvented himself as Mr. Shoo-Li, the Mongolian TV character from “Champoy” that was obviously inspired by Genghis Khan. Like “Juan Tamad” before him, Mr. Shoo-Li made wacky commentaries about the Philippine socio-political scene and gained nationwide popularity just like his father’s creation.

(Source: The Cinema of Manuel Conde, Nicanor Tiongson, University of Santo Tomas Publishing House, 2008)

*176. HOLY ANGEL UNIVERSITY, Angeles City

LOYAL SENIORS CLASS OF 1948. Mission accomplished for this post-war batch of graduates of Holy Angel Academy. Included in this group is my mother, Estrella del Rosario, and the daughter of the school founder, Teresita Nepomuceno (Wilkerson), the class salutatorian. 1948, Author's Collection.

It is said that no Kapampangan home is complete without a Holy Angel diploma hanging somewhere on a wall. For over 75 years, the school has educated, nurtured and inspired generations of Kapampangans thirsty for knowledge, changing not just their lives, but the life of their communities as well. In an extraordinary way, Holy Angel has become larger than its walls can contain, impacting the city’s history while contributing to the advancement of affordable education in the region.

The school started as Holy Angel Academy in 1933, founded by Don Juan D. Nepomuceno (1892-1973) and Msgr. Pedro S. Santos. Don Juan’s son, Javier, had been sent to La Salle in Manila for his high school education, but homesickness drove him back home to Angeles. He enrolled at the town’s only high school—Angeles Academy—but soon found himself facing problems such as the high cost of school supplies and the daily ten centavo commute via calesa to the school.

Piqued by his son’s predicament, Don Juan realized the need for a high school (like Angeles Academy) that could provide Catholic education (like Holy Family Academy) with high academic standards (like Pampanga High School). Above and beyond this, he also envisioned a hometown school that offered affordable, accessible education, so that children need not be sent to Manila, to live away from their families, like what Javier experienced.

The Commission on Private Schools approved the application for the opening of the high school. Except the proposed names—either St. Joseph Academy or Holy Rosary Academy—which had already been taken by other schools. Fr. Santos recommended “Holy Angel”, after the town patron, which was approved. Thus Holy Angel Academy, the first Catholic school administered by laypersons was born, temporarily housed in a building on the side of the Holy Rosary Church.

The tuition fee for 1st year students was 4 pesos monthly, 5 pesos for sophomores and 6 pesos for junior and senior year level. The first students of Holy Angel were transfer students from Angeles Academy, including Javier. Ricardo Flores, former history teacher of Javier at Angeles Academy, was taken in as part of the faculty and he would later play a significant role in running the affairs of a growing school. The first teachers also included Miss Encarnacion Aranda, who multi-tasked as a physics, biology and math teacher. Don Juan taught a special Spanish course, free to all students of Holy Angel. Holy Angel Academy also offered Night School to accommodate Clark Air Base employees who wished to earn a high school diploma.

In October 1941, the school moved to its new building with its signature columns, designed by architect Marino Valdes. The coming World War forced the closure of the school, re-opening after the liberation in June 1945. The first collegiate courses—Normal (Teacher Education) and Commerce—were offered in 1948, paving the way for the institution of Holy Angel College in 1961. Twenty years later, it finally achieved a university status. In 8 March 1982, the Archbishop of San Fernando, Oscar Cruz, named Holy Angel University a Catholic University. The Commission on Higher Education cited Holy Angel as one of the top universities of the country in 2001.

In more recent years, Holy Angel University faced challenges from all fronts, including student unrest, boycotts, faculty strikes and a volcanic eruption. Through it all, Holy Angel survived and thrived, upgrading services and expanding facilities that included the organization of the Center for Kapampangan Studies (2002), the opening of the College of Nursing (2002), the inaugurations of San Francisco de Javier Building that houses a world-class theater (2007) and the new Chapel of the Holy Guardian Angel (2009). Still under construction is the multi-storey St. Joseph building, the state-of-the-art future home of the College of Arts, Science and Education and the College of Information and Computer Technology.

Among Holy Angel’s outstanding alumni are Sec. Rizalino Navarro; the Very Rev. Silvestre Lacson, OSB, the first Filipino Benedictine prior; Right Rev. Tarcisio Ma. H. Narciso, the third Filipino Abbot; and Atty. Cesar L. Villanueva, Dean, College of Law, Ateneo de Manila University. But there are also thousands of ordinary Kapampangans who benefitted in more ways than one from their Holy Angel experience.

One of them was my late mother, Estrella del Rosario. As I sort out her old photo albums, I picked out this picture, the Loyal Seniors Batch of 1948. She was among the 458 who graduated that year, the biggest number thus far, in the school’s history. There she is on the front row, the first young lady on the left, proudly clutching her diploma. She would recall her days at Holy Angel, how they would escape to the fields at the back of the school with her friends, how her sister Gloring became Miss Sophomore, stories of endless soirees and programs, all fond recollections of her youth.

Many, many years later, as senior citizens, she would attend her annual high school reunions without fail, often hosted by their batchmate and salutatorian, Mrs. Teresita Nepomuceno-Wilkerson. She was looking forward to her 2009 reunion until she was felled by a sickness from which she would not recover. The Holy Angel family tradition was continued by my four siblings who chose to go to college in the city: Mike, Susan (Commerce), Eric (Political Science) and Momel (who, after finishing Med Tech from UST, enrolled at Holy Angel for a commerce degree). I, too, remember taking up summer classes at Holy Angel, a cross-enrollee from a Baguio school, a brief but an enjoyable period of my student life.

Holy Angel University has just celebrated its Diamond Year. Through good times and bad, it has remained true to its mission of providing quality yet affordable Catholic education for all. Mindful of its founders’ precious legacy, Holy Angel University today forges on, continuing what it does best: molding minds, shaping destinies, and making history.

*175. ROSA DEL ROSARIO: A Kapampangan Flies High as the 1st "Darna"

ROSA STAGNER, known to Philippine movie fans in the 40s and 50s as superstar Rosa del Rosario, the first 'Darna' (Filipina super hero). ca. 1930s.

In the 1960s, when my homework was done, I would go to the TV room with my pillow, and settle down to watch classic movie re-runs on this program called “Mga Aninong Gumagalaw” (Moving Shadows). The black and white films that enthralled me most were the “Darna” action-fantasy series, based on the hit comic character created by Mars Ravelo. The central character was a frail little girl named Narda, who, with the help of an enchanted stone, magically transformed into a high-flying, butt-kicking female nemesis of evil—Darna!

I was fascinated by this wonder woman, a smashing figure in a sexy outfit and a winged cap, ready to defend and protect the populace from every conceivable danger—from a plague of snakes led by Valentina to petrified tree trunks, impaktas, birdwomen and alien beings. She was cool, she had spunk, a rare personification of an empowered Filipina. And who else could portray such a larger-than-life super hero than a pretty Pampangueña—Rosa del Rosario?

The pre-war Queen of the Philippine Movies was born in Bacolor, Pampanga on 15 December 1919 as Rosa Stagner, the daughter of Agustina Del Rosario and American Frank Stagner. Frank brought his growing family to Manila and it was in the bustling city where they settled. One of her children set up a dress shop business where 12 year-old Rosa would spend her idle time.

Her discovery was purely accidental. A foreign film director and her nurse dropped by the dress shop to inquire about the presence of a movie production outfit in the city. Rosa and her sister told the director about Malayan Motion Pictures, a leading Philippine cinema company at that time. Malayan was founded by Jose Nepomuceno, acknowledged today as the “Father of Philippine Movies”. The sisters volunteered to arrange an appointment with the Nepomucenos in their behalf.

When Mrs. Nepomuceno saw the Stagner girls, she was immediately taken by the budding beauty of Rosa. She immediately obtained Rosa’s permission to cast her in her very first movie—“Ligaw na Bulaklak”. The next day, Rosa was fetched by a car and driven to a location shoot to meet her co-star, Carlos Padilla, who was cast as her father. For her screen name, she took her mother’s surname and was billed as Rosa del Rosario. Her long and legendary movie career had just started.

In the next few years, Rosa del Rosario enthralled movie fans with her presence, appearing in hit after hit with debonaire leading men that included her kabalen, Lubeño Rogelio dela Rosa and Leopoldo Salcedo, the great profile. She made a number of movies with Leopoldo: the zarzuela-based Walang Sugat (1939), Kundiman ng Luha (1950) and historical bio-flick, Tandang Sora, which she considers her favorite.

Rosa also became one of the early Filipinos to break into Hollywood. She was so famous in the Philippines that when an American director came to cast an Asian for his Hollywood movie, it was Rosa whom he sought out. She appeared in the film classic, “Anna and the King of Siam” in 1939 (to be redone as the musical “The King and I”, as one of the king’s wives. She also appeared in the “The Border Bandits” and “The American Guerrila”.

But it is her role as “Darna” that is invariably associated with her—even if other actresses—Liza Moreno, Vilma Santos, Gina Parreño, Anjanette Abayari, Nanette Medved, among others-- have also essayed that part through the years. As the first “Darna”, she learned to “fly” suspended from a helicopter, doing her own stunts and choreographing her own fighting moves. She shot her physically-demanding scenes all over Manila, in Quiapo as well as in scenic Bulacan. Her famous hand-to-hand combat atop a mountain with Valentina, the Pinay medusa played by American-bred Cristina Aragon, was one pivotal and spectacular scene I will never forget--it was not just a case of good triumphant evil, but also a dramatization of beauty with a purpose!

In the late 50s, Rosa chose to move to the United States with her husband, John Samit, and her two daughters, Geraldine and Teresa. She settled in San Francisco, California where she lived for many years. She returned to the Philippines in the early ‘80s to accept the “Walang Kupas Award” (Unfading Luster Award), the ultimate recognition for movie personalities who have made their indelible marks on Philippine cinema. Rosa lived to see the role she originated, immortalized as a blockbuster TV serial, as a musical and even as a ballet show. Rosa del Rosario, the half-Kapampangan star who rose above the rest as the first Filipina superhero on the silver screen, passed away on 4 February 2006, in Modesto, California, age 87.

*174. A 1956 Reunion; THE DEL ROSARIOS OF ANGELES CITY

THE GATHERING. The Del Rosario siblings, children of Emilio del Rosario and Josefa Valdez, Felicisima Castro and Florentina Torres, pose with their families in the 1956 Del Rosario event of the year.

This picture of the large Del Rosario clan used to hang in the living room of our old Mabalacat home before it was torn down and the contents packed and stored away. My mother was sure proud of this picture as she had it framed, a reminder that she was once a genuine Angeleña, born and raised in Kuliat, until circumstances led her to live for a few years in Zaragoza, Nueva Ecija (as a companion to her priest-brother) and in Hermosa, Bataan (as a nanny to an American couple). But it was to Angeles that she would always return, comfortable around his many brothers and sisters and always proud of her Del Rosario roots.

The earliest Del Rosario in our family tree is one Anacleto del Rosario (fl. late 1790s) , who became the second husband of Maria Arcadia Henson. Maria Arcadia was the youngest child of Severino Henson, a Chinese mestizo, and Placida Paras of San Fernando; an elder brother was Mariano, the first Filipino lay Doctor of Laws and a husband of Juana Ildefonso de Miranda, daughter of the founders of Culiat, the future Angeles.

Anacleto and Maria Arcadia had 6 children, and the eldest, Pablo del Rosario married Luisa de Ocampo. From this union, seven children were born, and the fourth son, Cornelio, married a relative, Juana Henson de Ocampo. Cornelio and Juana would populate the family tree with 10 children, one of whom was Emilio del Rosario (b. 2 Sept. 1878/ d. 7 Sept. 1947), my maternal grandfather.

My Ingkung Milyu married not once, but three times, siring a family that totaled to about 20 children, including those who died in infancy. The Del Rosario kids were thus identified as products of pregnancies from the “mumunang atyan” (Josefa Valdes), “pangadwang atyan” (Felicisima Samia Castro) and “pangatlung atyan” (Florentina Torres).

Fifteen survived to adulthood and raising all of them was a supreme challenge for my Ingkung Milyu whose only source of income in the 1930s was a parcel of land in Sapa Libutad, which he tilled and planted with rice and sugar. The early deaths of his two wives (Apung Sepa and Apung Simang) further complicated matters as the children were left motherless at a young age.

My Ima only has haze memories of her mother, Apung Simang, who died of a heart ailment. She was just about 3 or 4 years old then, so she and her siblings were “loaned” to kind relatives who took care of them as if they were their own. But it is to my Ingkung’s credit that all his children grew up with a strong sense of family; when the eldest brood finished their studies and became professionals, they took over in supporting their younger half-siblings, treating them no differently, and always with love and affection. Even as adults, and with their own families, the Del Rosario siblings were always ready to lend a hand to a brother or a sister in need, be it in the form of financial help, moral guidance or a a piece of wise advice.

This particular picture, taken possibly in mid 1956, shows the Del Rosarios gathering in full force for a grand family reunion, although I remember my Ima saying that it also coincided with her older brother’s birthday-- I can’t recall who that was. In any case, here we see the Del Rosario siblings almost complete, many in their prime with careers flourishing and families established.

My five uncles, children of my Ingkung’s first marriage with Josefa Valdez are seated in the middle row, starting with the third bespectacled man from the left, Tatang Dadong, followed by Tatang Curing and a brother -in-law, Patrocinio Feliciano. Tatang Maning, Tatang Pabling and Tatang Anding complete the eldest set.

Second wife Felicisima Castro gave my Ingkung the following children: eldest son Tatang Carling (seated after T. Anding) and next to him, Tatang Ato, the youngest. Their sisters are standing on the back row. Ninth from left is Mang Susing, Mang Maring and Mang Glo. My mother, Mang Ester (or Ecteng, as she was fondly called), stands rightmost, flashing a big smile.

The final set of offsprings with Florentina Torres are likewise here, Tatang Andy, the 2nd man seated from the left, and Mang Baby, the young lady standing leftmost of the picture. Tatang Norli and Redentor are not in the picture.

Sadly, the original Del Rosario brood has diminished in number over time. The first children of the first marriage have all gone to the Great Beyond, with Tatang Maning’s passing in 1987. All missed too are the children of the second marriage—my Ima joined his siblings only this year (2009) in June. The third and last set of children remains intact, with four Del Rosarios left as keepers of the flame.

As I stare at the familiar smiling faces of my Del Rosario uncles and aunts, mothers and fathers, brothers, sisters, and cousins at this reunion 53 years ago, I am struck with a realization that what I have is more than just a souvenir photo; in my hands, I am holding tangible memories of several Del Rosario generations, some dead, some living, bound by blood and history. Each face remembered and recognized triggers a rush of fond and pleasant recollections, in a time when our cares and fears seemed a world away, when all that mattered was being one big and complete family. Long live and prosper, Del Rosarios!