10lbs of food, 30 lbs of books, and a ton of fun with the bomb @$$ pinays and other folk

Today my iCal is packed with stuff to do in three different locations, a fine balance of family, friends, poetry, and community.

The SO's sister and family are in town sleeping on several blankets in the remaining space on my bedroom floor. They have a three year old, who doesn't want to speak in coherent English language yet, but who can still get her point across with a shrill scream and giggly conspiratorial laughter.

Decided to bring the families together and have Mother's Day at Japantown's Umeko Seafood Buffet (which I completley recommend for overabundant eating). My mom enjoys when they visit. She gets to be called Lola and chase tiny feet pounding on the ground. A fun time eating, walking through different stores (like the jewelry store that had a whole bunch of stuff 50% off), chasing the 3 year old up and down steps.

From there, they dropped me off at the San Francisco Public Library for the Pinay Panel with everybody on it (Reme, Leny, Jean, Eileen, Luisa, Barbara, with Melissa Nolledo being both videographer/photographer). I catch the last hour and half of talk and questions. It was quite a range of thoughts and discussion from academia's perception of wanting "mainstream" publication as opposed to smaller press, impressions on the status of writing coming from the Philippines today, a question asking if there were any Pinoy writers.

I thought that was interesting because I remember a time when the panels and readings that I attended were mostly Pinoy writers with the same one Pinay sitting amongst them, and the question that often came up was, "where are all the women?" and "are there any women?" When most people could name off the list of Carlos Bulosan, NVM Gonzales, and other male writers, while Jessica Hagedorn was just about the only woman anyone could name. Not that that's Jessica's fault, but it does speak to the notion that more and more names are being added to the pool.

I'm glad there were a lot of good and interesting questions and comments. The Q&A is often a crap shoot I think for good questions that evoke more dialogue. I've gone to panels, like Barbara said, that feel like the audience harassing you with simply comments about themselves and not really comments about what's going on. Or ones where no one has a question and everyone just stares at each other blankly.

Afterwords, people lined up to buy several of the books and anthologies. I'd like to hear from Linda Nietes (many of the books were kindly supplied by her) whether this panel was truly a "money maker," since another bookseller did not think it was a profittable venture.

We helped Reme and Luisa lighten their carry on baggage requirements by either buying out the rest of the books or shipping them book rate. I've often done that at readings. Buy an extra one or two copies to sell them out and give them later as gifts. Give them to my cousins and other folks who "didn't realize Filipinos publish, much less write."

Good to finally meet Reme in person! My second time meeting Luisa. Our last meeting was like a "blind date" in Chicago several years back where I didn't know what she looked like and left a copy of her book clearly visible on the table as I waited at Borders. I even ran into the mother of the only other Filipino in my sister's elementery school class. (There were like 3 other Filipino families, and a handful of Asians back then.)

We take a few group pictures. The line of women seems to get longer and longer. We talk about gardening. Luisa says she's been known to kill a cactus and comment about Farmer Chatelaine's innobatib approach to aerating the soil with black stilletos. New York Haute Culture meets California Valley. You know those Pinays are so resourceful.

Reme and Luisa didn't have time to come to the maganda reception across the bay. So, Jean, Eileen, Barbara, and I jumped into Jean's 4WD with bags, boxes, and arm fulls of books in search for sangria and grub over the bridge, which we found at Cafe Valpariso next to the La Pena venue holding the reception. The car chit chat consisted in part of Eileen's realization that she truly IS a FILIPINO mother, when she spoils Achilles and has guilty pangs when he's not eating all his food. Can you tell a dog that he better eat all his food because there are starving dogs in the Philippines that don't get any food at all?

The maganda reception is already on, but food and sangria come first. Can't expect Barbara and Eileen to do the poetry reading on an empty stomach. Feed the poet to feed the poetry.

I love the cafe at La Pena because everything is good. You got to love a restaurant where the toughest decision is which delicious meal you want to eat, when you really can't choose. The waiter brings us the sangria pouring out each of the glasses for us. When he returns with glasses of water, he brings a red rose for each of us. How perfect is that?

I guess it was red roses for Mother's Day and though I'm not a mother, I'd like to think that the rose was for the maternal natures in all women, for not only the children we take care of, but also the families, animals, plants, poetry and communities that we nurture and grow on a daily basis. So, glasses raised, for a lovely toast to poetry.

Best part of the cafe is that just about everything in the place is good. You can't go wrong with any of the choices. I had the Lechon Asado with black beans and plaintains. Barbara's sirloin tips dish was delish and the pastry for the empanada was quite delicate and crisp. Barbara runs inside the event to check out the program and to let them know that yes, we're here on time and to come get us when they are ready.

Cherry comes and grabs Barbara as we finish paying the bill. Barbara reads a few pieces from the current issue and sends us off with a Virgin Mary poem. A DJ mixes a few beats in between performers, while Eileen's bio is read. Barbara and I are maganda veterans, both having been a major part of several early issues. For me, it's the group that got me involved in community, taught me a lot about how to organize a panel and event, as well as got me in touch with a lot of fabulous writers. Eileen talks about how she had heard about maganda over 5 years ago while still in New York.

And when I watch her read on stage, I recall the first time I met Eileen. It was at the SF Book Fair where several Pin@y writers were present with a panel. And I had a copy of maganda #10 on hand to deliver her contributor's copy. I approached her when she was standing on a stage just like the one in La Pena. She would tell me later, one of her first thoughts was, "damn, a really tall Pinay."

Barbara and Eileen are followed by someone named Vin. He must be well known to the maganda crowd to just be Vin. Vin plays the piano. I comment, "a truly Filipino event, with a piano recital." Vin is quite talented and plays a song he wrote in the current musical vein of the slightly raspy voice of the singer/composer about losing love and knowing you weren't the one. Later on he's introduced at one of the upcoming editors, so not only is he talented, he's a glutton for punishment. I wish him well.

Some of the maganda staff are surprised to see me here as I congratulate them on the publication of the new issue. Their eyes kind of widen when they recognize my name. I guess my years with maganda are an eternity to them. They are my brother's age. I'm not sure what he remembers of being dragged to Berkeley when he was like 13 to various maganda meeting locales. Though it astounds me year after year the ability of each staff to continue with this publication and to recreate it each year. We're talking 15 years of publications. And the communities and families we created from these bonds have continued, as now the early generation of maganda staff and contributors are all out with their own books, Barbara, Maiana, and Joel Tan, while numerous others continue with various creative pursuits.

Afterwards, we take our roses, books, well fed stomachs and well nourished souls home. Barbara calls it an efficient day that is quite satisfying on various levels.

I head to my parents place for yet another meal with the families, while playing phone tag with the SO cuz he's gotten them lost in Piedmont on the way to my parent's house on the Oakland border. Perhaps "lost" isn't quite the word, maybe it's "not quite found." They were in the right direction, just couldn't make that one last turn to get them there. Tikbalang and Capri enjoy scenic routes.