CONGRATULATIONS to lawyer Roy Allan Magturo on the success of his Nov. 25 production of the play “The Tempest Reimagined,” a presentation of the Philippine Educational Theater Association at the PETA Theater in Quezon City.
The sold-out show is a PETA production in collaboration with the British Council, Royal Academy of Dramatic Art, and Japan Foundation. Directed by Nona Sheppard, with script by Liza Magtoto and stage design by Marsha Roddy, the play is a modern adaptation of William Shakespeare’s “The Tempest” based on the real stories of super typhoon Yolanda (Haiyan) survivors.
Many members of the audience were public high school students and special needs children from marginalized families. Magturo and physician Lorraine Marie T. Badoy worked together to ensure their attendance and provide them with a rare experience that for some could prove to be transformational: “For one moment,” said Badoy in a Facebook post, “it will be as it should be—a world where there is no ‘us’ or ‘them.’”
She describes the reaction of the kids from the National Orthopedic Hospital School for Crippled Children upon learning about their “field trip” to PETA: “Nabingi ako (I was deafened) from the wild cheering that happened when pandemonium broke out. And I was pulled this way and that from all the hugging that happened. I wish you had been there to see and hear and smell and taste their joy. A joy so pure, it felt like rain on my face.”
This is truly an instance when Magturo combined his passions for theater arts, music, charity, and social justice (he is a staunch activist as well).
Take note of this rising impresario’s future projects. Magturo is deeply cause-oriented by nature and anything he organizes or produces is certain to be in aid of some worthy advocacy.
★★★★★
Last Thursday was my first Thanksgiving in the United States, and I have to admit that I didn’t understand the hype that surrounds this oh-so-American celebration.
Sure enough, it was a public holiday, and work was suspended for most. Many took Wednesday off to travel to their homes and be with their families. I would compare it to the way we Filipinos observe Undas—All Saints’ and All Souls’ Days—when a vast chunk of Manila’s population makes for the provinces, leaving the cities quiet and traffic-free.
In the US—specifically San Francisco and Los Angeles, which I had the opportunity to observe—traffic jams were prevalent the day before Thanksgiving, especially in LA. The airports were crammed and flights to and from many destinations on the mainland were nearly impossible to get unless one had bought tickets well in advance. Many hotels and budget inns were likewise fully booked.
Contrary to popular belief, turkey isn’t always on the menu; it is the tradition, but quite a few folks here are practical and they feast on what they want. A roasted Butterball is too big even for our family of six to consume, so we had a honey-baked ham and prawns halabos-style.
Dessert was my mom’s homemade leche flan, made with 12 egg yolks that contain no traces of white, not even the chalazae—strings of white tissue—nor the thin film that covers the yolk and holds it together; she picks them off carefully with her fingers, and each swallow of that flan represents a great deal of labor and attention to detail.
My teenage daughter doesn’t feel Thanksgiving yet either; she covered a fellow partner’s shift at their Starbucks branch, moved by his imploration and tempted by the time-and-a-half pay and healthy holiday tips. She also argued, “Why should we celebrate it when that marks the time the Pilgrims wrested this land from the Native Americans?”
We have not embraced this holiday yet because we are so new here, so raw, that at the moment we are Filipinos who are strangers in a strange land. It will take years before we are acculturated, before we feel, as Americans do, that Thanksgiving is bigger than Christmas, if we will at all. We might come to understand this phenomenon, but not fully subscribe to it, not when our souls tingle more to the jingle of carols and church bells in the cool dark mornings.
Filipinos, moreover, are always grateful. “Ay, salamat, masarap ang ulam!” or that we were able to get that last seat on that bus, or our child comes home safe from a field trip. For each thing, no matter how little, we give thanks. Every day is, and should be, Thanksgiving Day.
Dr. Ortuoste is a California-based writer. Follow her on Facebook: Jenny Ortuoste, Twitter: @jennyortuoste, Instagram: @jensdecember
