Teambuilding Under the Acacia

We are often told that one of the reasons why groups enjoy having their teambuilding activities Casa San Pablo is because there is enough room to be flexible. I like to think that our place is what you make it. Its beauty and creativity are drawn out by people who are willing to think out of the box and enjoy life's little surprises. 

Take the College of St. Benilde's student leadership seminar conducted at Casa San Pablo this week. They had originally booked our poolside air-conditioned pavilion for their seminar, but when their program director, the charismatic Mel Lazatin, saw the wide open spaces, she decided to conduct their afternoon session under the ancient acacia tree.

The students had their discussions under a natural canopy of leaves, with a grass carpet, a soothing summer breeze, and the serenade of birds. It was a different experience for these urban jungle students. Every so often, they would pause from the discussion to listen to a boisterous humming bird or to point out a black and orange butterfly fleeting by. "That's the real thing, " Lazatin would say. "Not just a recording or some prop."

Curiously, the method they used for their seminar is the latest in planning session technology called Open Spaces groups—it's a method that recognizes that everyone has some expertise or experience to contribute and provides all participants opportunities to participate in the way they think best. It was wonderful to watch them having such passionate discussions under our acacia tree.

Casa San Pablo Storyteller Dolls

  

In 1964, a woman from Cochiti Pueblo in New Mexico, Helen Cordero, created a storyteller doll in representation of her grandfather, Santiago Quintana, who, during her childhood, would gather the children of the pueblo to them them stories of their ancestors. The doll was like no other ever created in her pueblo.

Helen Cordero left the mouth of the storyteller open to let the stories out. She left the eyes close. Her storyteller was always thinking of the next thing in the story. The listeners were climbing the storyteller’s braids, peeking over his head, sliding down his arms. Wisdom she believed came into the world not because it was spoken but because it was heard. 

So captivating were Helen Cordero’s creations that it spawned followers and collectors

Ugu Bigyan's Pottery Studio (40 minutes away from Casa San Pablo)

In 2008, I discovered Helen Cordero and her dolls while browsing through books at Ugu Bigyan’s studio, where I was taking pottery lessons. I felt a jolt within me when I saw this doll. There was an instant connection, as if I had found discovered something from my past.  My heart raced, I couldn’t hold my tears back. Here before me, in a most endearing form, were clay shapes that captured what I had always wanted to express — people stories.

I had known from the first time I touched clay at lessons with Lanelle Abueva that I had an affinity for it. Just the touch of wet clay made me feel like I had always belonged to it. Even then, I knew I would work with clay but not for bowls, plates or vases, but on playful figures. I just didn’t know what yet, until I found the storytellers. I am convinced that I am Helen’s cosmic daughter.

Pursuing my lessons further with Jon and Tessie Pettyjohn, I found myself creating figures from stories I had heard from San Pablo. Some of the people I’ve met in San Pablo are the best storytellers I have ever met. As a young bride, I eagerly listened to their stories, and enjoyed the cast of characters that made them alive. My storyteller dolls are to be people from San Pablo.

This is a sneak peek into my work-in-progress—a collection of Casa San Pablo storytellers.

Post Holy Week Update

It's seems the Holy Week stretch zipped by so fast. It's been over a week now since we welcomed our first batch of guests on Holy Thursday but we're still giddy about how the week unfolded. Guests who come for this break are special. They're usually looking not only for the opportunity to relax and have fun but are also looking for the chance to have a meaningful visit. So Boots and I churned out a few things to help guests find what they're looking for:

• San Pablo City Visita Iglesia Guide: Every year, so many of our guests ask us what the best churches to visit are. This year, we recommended a couple of routes. First, we prepared a guide to churches and chapels within San Pablo City. We gave directions and even marked out kilometer readings starting from the Casa San Pablo gate. Our route included the must-see four-hundred year old San Pablo Cathedral as well as off-the-beaten path chapels  like the new white minimalist chapel at the Carmelite monastery of San Pablo and the brick chapel at the St Peter's seminary which opens up to a quaint courtyard.
• Laguna de Bay Visita Iglesia Guide: For the more adventurous, we prepared a route around Laguna de Bay. There are about two dozen churches to see from Siniloan to San Pablo (or from San Pablo to Siniloan) but with the help of BluPrint magazine, we highlighted only the Franciscan missionary stone churches built in towns surrounding the lake and on the foothills of Banahaw. Our guide was written to help guests identify architectural highlights on the facade, outer walls, interiors, and main altars.
• Good Friday Procession Tour: The San Pablo procession is one of the best in the country because it is so grand and the carozas are magnificent. But it can get overwhelming. So for our checked-in guests, we prepared a lecturette and a booklet to point out the heritage and artistic highlights of the more significant carozas. We also took them on a private tour of the area where the carozas owned by the Escudero family were prepared. This gave them an opportunity to get very close to the sculptures by Ireneo Cristobal and see the silver craftsmanship by Tampingco plus the awesome floral arrangements on the floats.
• Viaje del Sol. Of course, as always, we encouraged our guests to visit our Viaje del Sol partners. But because Holy Week schedules tend to be different, we provided our guests with a guide on when they can and can't go.

There were many more little things we did and are still eager to do for next year's Holy Week break. What encouraged us the most is that our guests came very eager to learn about San Pablo traditions, artisans, and culinary delights.

Five Happily Quiet Ways to Enjoy Casa San Pablo

As the days earnestly lead up to the Holy Week break, I can sense from the chatter among friends and returnee-guests that many are longing for some quiet time away from the mad-rush of city life. Well, here are five things we'd recommend you try when you come over:

• Chill out on a hammock. We like to call our hammocks "moveable feasts" because they are portable. You can pull them under any tree you want to rest under or bunch them up together so you can chat with friends. Just lift your feet up, give your back to the gentle curve of the wicker catch, use one leg to push off to a swing (or ask a friend to rock you), and then close your eyes. Listen to the sound of the wind and feel the breeze on your face.
• Take a walk on our winding stone path. We've cleared a pathway around a section of the property which will take you through a pocket of what used to be a coconut plantation, passed a hundred-year old champaca, down the banks of the Balatuin river, and up again to the vine garden in the ruins of Inay's old home. It is an easy walk which will allow you catch up with your thoughts.
• Watch the world go by. We have vintage movie house  seats that look out to our garden. You can spend hours just sitting there watching the leaves fall or the birds flitter about. Many of our guests put their feet up on a bench and read their favorite book in this choice spot.
• Go wi-fi surfing on a banig. In the late afternoons, you can take out mats and lie in the lawn as you watch and hear ducks flying back to their habitat. In the evenings, we put candles on the lawn. Our guests stay on the lawn to enjoy the romantic lights or to star gaze. There's wi-fi access in the garden so you can surf the Net in the great outdoors.
• Listen to piano playing. My dear mother-in-law Vinya, whom many of you have met, was a concert pianist. On some mornings you can hear her practicing her Tchaikovsky and Chopin pieces, or some hauntingly melodic kundiman. Just hearing the music wafting out of her window transports you through time, perhaps to your own childhood and lazy mornings. 

The Good Friday Procession at San Pablo

One of the reasons why the people of San Pablo are wonderful storytellers is because pageantry, larger-than-life presentations, and enchanting leaps of the imagination are woven into the rhythm of their lives. 


Take the Holy Week procession on Good Friday, for instance, I've been an avid sidewalk-participant to this Lenten cortege for some fifteen years now, and always I am captivated not just by the procession itself but by the layer upon layer of magic realism that unfolds through the stories the folks whisper about in the days leading up to the procession.

The first layer are the fascinating stories people chose to tell about the statues or poon. These are the life-size Biblical images that are taken on the procession in carozas—ornate platforms traditionally borne on shoulders but are now pulled by devotees because they have become too large to carry. Many have elaborate lights powered by their own generators, the hum of which rival the din of prayers and songs. They talk of the Mater Dolorosa with tears of genuine diamonds that sparkle so brilliantly, they bring the viewer to tears. They whisper about extravagant jewelry from tiaras, chandelier earrings, opera necklaces, and large-stud rings, purchased as a set for the revered statue out of gratitude for a good harvest, and kept in a vault for the rest of the year only to be brought out again at procession time.There is the tale of a poon that is so important to the family that owns it, it sits in the family living room all year-round, and has a place at the dining table. And there are the tales of statues who have inherited land from their grateful patrons so that the earnings from the land will ensure perpetual participation in the Holy Week processions, thus ensuring bountiful harvest year after year.These stories prattled about leading up to the procession piques curiosity and anticipation days before the statues come out in full splendor.


The second layer is the stories of the families that own these statues. There is a silent tension between the old rich San Pablo and those they consider nouveau riche. The old rich San Pablo are the landed gentry descended from coconut barons, who lived lavish lifestyles at the time when the Philippines, specifically San Pablo, was the biggest source of coconut produce in the world. Most prominent of these families today is the Escudero family, whose hacienda lifestyle is showcased in Villa Escudero. Don Ado Escudero, in fact, owns many of the images including the prime stars of the procession — the devastatingly beautiful Mater Dolorosa and the dramatic funeral coach bearing the statue of the dead Christ.The procession is in itself also a showcase of the grandeur of an era gone by, when families of coconut barons lived like royalty. Their poon reflects their wealth and their sacred pledge — panata — to proclaim their gratitude for all the blessings they have received in life. The other batch of families are the new prominent, those who have come to considerable wealth outside of the coconut plantations. Their statues, it is whispered about, tend to be ostentatious to prove their stature and to display their piety. If one watches the procession with a San Pablo insider who points out who owns what statue, the rivalry surfaces in an engaging and colorful way.


The third layer is the rumors that surround the procession itself. Finally resolved in the recent years, there used to be a divide between the Catholic Church-led procession, the Aglipay-led procession, and the one staged by the owners of the many-storied carozas. The Church-led Good Friday procession was solemn and spare, befitting a funeral, just the statue of the dead Christ followed by the statue of his grieving mother. The Aglipay-led procession was equally spare but decidedly distinct in route and in participants. The third procession, led and orchestrated by Don Ado Escudero, is ultimate pageantry, featuring a spectacle of over fifty carozas, all extravagantly adorned, not only from all over Laguna but also from Bulacan. Just imagine the mayhem three processions navigating through the narrow streets of San Pablo can cause. The local government imposed order by issuing permits for different routes and staggering the schedule of the processions, but it was all they could do. In the weeks leading up to the date, there would be heated arguments on who got the best route and, behind closed doors, there would be family debates on which procession to attend. It was perceived a test of loyalty to the Church or to their heritage, and many felt deeply torn. All that is somewhat resolved now, with the Catholic Church and the family-led processions having joined up. Still, for the old timers, the story is worth re-telling.


The fourth layer of stories is the stories of people on the ground experiencing the sights and sounds, and yes, still being moved by the story of the agony of Christ brought to life by the astonishing statues. I remember holding my daughters hand when she was only twelve and explaining, as far as I could, the biblical significance of each caroza — the agony in the garden when Jesus accepts his fate, the horrifying scourging at the pillar, the grief in Veronica's face when she wipes the bloodied face of Christ, the terrible weight of the cross that makes Jesus fall three times, the haunting lamentation of the barefoot women in crimson garb with thorns on their heads chanting a Latin requiem, and the terrible pain of the Virgin Mother who having witnessed her son being tortured still embraced the will of God. I also point out that this grand funeral reflects our people's desire to give Jesus the funeral he never had. If one watches the procession, it is vital to keep this perspective clear. This is still the greatest story ever told, no matter how extravagantly it is adorned.


If you stay at Casa San Pablo for the Holy Week break, we will take you through these layers of stories, escorting you through the procession itself, taking you behind-the-scenes, highlighting the significant carozas, and providing you an unforgettable experience. Book now, our rooms are filling up fast.

Long Walks

 I am often asked by prospective guests what one can do at Casa San Pablo. I know they expect to be told of the exciting adventures to be had, exotic places to discover, or unique facilities perhaps only we can offer. I have to admit, more often than not, I give in to what they expect and tell them about the adventures at nearby lake Pandin, the wonderful artist ateliers close by, and the double swimming pools we have. But what I really want to tell them is the rich experience to be had at Casa are not only in these get-up-and-go escapades but are in the subtle-slow-down discoveries to be made— right at our own backyard.


What to do at Casa? Take a slow walk around. As Kurt Vonnegut wrote, simply put "one foot in front of the other—through leaves, over bridges--". Walk at a leisurely pace, without counting on anything to happen. Just allow life to show up. Delight to spring forth.


My favorite walks have been in late afternoon, when the sun retreats behind the trees and casts a carpet of soft yellow sunshine on the lawn. Or after the rain, when leaves that danced with the passing wind, kiss the ground we walk on. Or under the vine trellis where rain droplets wait, hanging on the tips of leaves, for just the right moment to drop on the wanderer's cheek.

On these walks, I have discovered delicate blue flowers, shaped like tiny lady's slippers, peeping out of a corner bush; savored the sound of my footsteps on an old brick path; and enjoyed a riot of brilliant yellow cosmos swaying to the hum of a gentle breeze. Because I set off on a walk, without a destination, every step clears the mind. There is no place to get to, no goal to reach. Every step and moment is perfect, complete and delightful.

Breakfast All Day

It's been barely a month since we opened our Casa San Pablo Cafe. It's a  "drop in and eat affair", a leap from our "by reservations only" dining hall where we had the comfort of an advance notice and the luxury of planning the market list based on who and how many we were actually expecting.

Although we're choosing to play conservative for now by serving only breakfast favorites all day, we're finding the pace radically different and we're learning how to salsa through this rhythm. Happily, many of our guests have been very kind and supportive, willing to look beyond our neophyte gait because they are just so charmed by our inn and, almost always, enamored by our dream as well. I find that people who come to us are attracted not just by the food and ambience, but also by the chance to see their own dreams mirrored in our naive efforts. Inevitably, somebody will say, "Alam mo, may lupa din kami parang ganito. Balak din namin i-develop ng ganito." Passion feeds passion. And we're always happy to heap out an extra serving of that.