THE RUINS OF MY MEMORY...
Back in 1992, when I was a long haired, tie-dyed Island Spice T-Shirt wearing pseudo leftist, I ran away to Baguio to escape my bourgeois Makati upbringing. Right in the middle of my sophomore year in the UP Diliman Fine Arts Department, I pocketed the tuition fee my father gave me (all Php2,800.00 of it), dropped out of school and moved to Baguio to work as an intern for the artists Santi Bose and BenCab.
It was such a liberating time of my life. I spent a full year just making rubbercut prints, chopping sticks, cleaning brushes, hanging out with artists, and walking through the empty, cool streets of a post-earthquake and pre-SM Baguio City. And through that year, it was the Cafe By the Ruins where I would run to when looking for a place to center myself. It's indigenous, eco-friendly architecture (totally ahead of it's time), homegrown greens, and dishes like Amapola Salad and Gado-gado capped with a shot of Tapuy (rice wine) became the icons and images that I associated with fine artsy Baguio Living. I would just hang there for hours, reading magazines, sketching in my book, or having fireside chats around their Dap-Ay.It goes without saying that I learned a lot from hanging out at the Cafe and I am who I am today from what I learned from people that I met there.
And having said that, I'm so glad that the Cafe is still around and that people are sharing their memories about it. On August 23, join Laida Lim, Lia Llamado, and Feliz Perez for the launch of Cafe By The Ruins: Memories and Recipes. It will be held at the same location where they have been for the last thirty years, 23 Chuntug St. at 4:30 PM. And if you can't make it to the Baguio launch, go to the one in Rockwell on the 28th of August at the National Bookstore in the Archeology area.
posted by carlosceldran @ 11:06 AM
13 Comments:
Carlos.
You cannot post this:
"Back in 1992, when I was a long haired, tie-dyed Island Spice T-Shirt wearing pseudo leftist"
WITHOUT POSTING AN EXAMPLE.
Tease.
This comment has been removed by the author.
I miss Bagiuo and have wonderful memories of Cafe by the Ruins!
Did you see the Philippines Immigrant Art piece in Reader's Digest - Ben and Annie have been circulating it - if not I can forward.
Hahahahaha Christina, I agree.
Sounds like an out of this world, *transcendental* experience, indeed ;)
*SIGH* What is it about Cafe by the Ruins that seems to have such a hold on people's memories? A short time after your halcyon year there, Carlos, my cousin and I also escaped Makati and went to Baguio, albeit for a short week. It was a very intense time in our family, we had been looking after my mother who was struggling with cancer, and we'd been at her bedside night and day. Suddenly, around Easter, she took a turn for the better and they told us younger ones to take a holiday. So off to the Summer Capital my cousin and I went, after the Holy Week crowds had gone, and it was as though we had the place to ourselves. We went to the market every morning, cooked our own meals, filled the house with flowers, and in the afternoon we would go to Cafe by the Ruins for the mango dessert. We made a pact to become old maids and live in Baguio like eccentric characters from the Raj Quartet, keeping house together and indulging obscure artistic interests, hahaha. Not sure what it was -- perhaps it was the sudden possibility that my mother would survive, perhaps the illusion that we could cast off the weight of social expectations in Manila... We struck up an ever-so-subtle friendship with a local boy who worked at John Hay. One day at the spur of the moment we went to Vigan and walked about the old houses, again feeling like old maids in a book.
Of course, the freedom was fleeting. My cousin and I each got married eventually. And we both eventually moved away. But the memory of that week still comes to me in a golden haze ... much like the view from the Cafe by the Ruins.
Apologies for un-burdening here, in such an inconsequential way. But I was elated to find that someone else had such potent memories of that place.
my dad (the former dean of masscom) is just crazy about their camote bread!
but it's been years since he was there, when he was for a brief period of time into mountain climbing.
Nomade de Plume, that was lovely. Thanks for sharing. You should send me your email so we can chitchat. :-) I'm at new (dot) yorkian (dot) afoot (at) gmail (dot) com.
My memories of Bagiuo are from a really young age. And what it is now is so different (overpopulated + polluted) than what it was before, I'm sad I didn't get to experience it in when Session Road was in full swing. I like hearing everyone else's stories.
I repeat my call for Carlos to post some photographic evidence of his long-haired hippie pseudo-leftist days.
We need proof. PROOF.
Christina,
thanks for your indulgence. I was half-expecting to be howled out of the room. Am feeling a bit *shy* but will drop you an email then.
Yes, where's the Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man?
I, too, am a fan of Cafe by the Ruins. Is there a recipe in the book for their camote soup? I remember when I ordered it, I was expecting something that would look like pumpkin soup. Imagine my surprise (and delight!) when the bowl was placed in front of me, and inside was a bright, shockingly purple soup! :-)
Haha. I'm pretty sure the recipe is in there.
I forgot how much you love purple pala. :o)
Nomade. Love your memories. Baguio at a much simpler time. I remember it too.
i love cafe by the ruins! aww nomade, loved that. if only i can write as well as you do, i'll cuento about the weekend i spent in baguio, hoping to spend some time alone to clear the muddy springs of my mind...when out of nowhere, 3 gay classmates appeared and presented me with OUR itinerary. they dragged me to the artists village, palengke, UP at kung saan saan...then in the afternoons we'll have coffee or strawberry shake at the Cafe.
c.
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