Memoir

Michael Carlo C. Villas

Ochre Tones by Marjorie M. Evasco was one of the most beautiful books in the private library of Merlie M. Alunan, whom I frequently visited in her office at the University of the Philippines-Open University in Tacloban. That was my first encounter with her poetry. In 2007, I worked as a call center agent in Bonifacio Global City, Taguig, and my favorite hangout was the Powerbooks branch in Greenbelt, Makati, a shop for a famous clothing line. There, I found a poetry collection entitled A Feast of Origins by Dinah Roma that bore the introduction of Evasco entitled “Original Grace.” That was my first encounter with her criticism.

I could say Evasco was already a “friend of my mind” before we finally met in person at the All-Visayas Creative Writing Workshop in 2008, organized by Merlie Alunan under the auspices of the University of the Philippines in the Visayas Creative Writing Program, formerly known as the Visayas Writers Workshop or VisWrite. I served as a workshop staff, so I contacted writers present on that occasion.

A few years later, Ma’am Marj, as we would call her, was invited to sit as a panelist in the Lamiraw Creative Writing Workshop in Calbayog City. The workshop director, Phil Harold L. Mercurio, gave me the lovely task of accompanying her to Calbayog from Tacloban. I was teaching then at the Leyte Normal University (LNU) and advised the An Lantawan, its official student publication. Our editorial consultant, Dr. Marietta “Mayet” B. Arinto, was a good friend of Ma’am Marj. Their friendship goes back to when they worked together at the Ministry of Information, now the Philippine Information Agency, in Tacloban. Ma’am Mayet knew Ma’am Marj was visiting for Lamiraw, so she invited her to conduct a poetry clinic at LNU through the An Lantawan. That was a Sunday. There was a city-wide blackout. Windows at the function hall on the second floor of the LNU House were flung open. A window had the blinds flapping in the wind. Ma’am Mayet was apologetic about the noise, but Ma’am Marj said, “It must be my father telling me he’s here.” This was after she delivered a lecture entitled “The Obligation of the Writer” that she dedicated to her father, Florentino. The synchronicity (one of Ma’am Marj’s favorite words) was auspicious.

Our friendship has grown since then. Her house in Bougainvillea St., Hagdang Bato, became a place where we often broke bread the most memorable of which were Christmases when I would decide to stay in UP Diliman and not go home to avoid the holiday rush. Ma’am Marj, her daughter May Ann, her niece Myrna, and their cats (who I think are the real owners of the house) were my family in the years I was away from home for study leave. The essay in this book was written for the Gathering Minds Series that began as sutra reading sessions at the Fo Guang Shan Mabuhay Temple with writers like Jose Victor Peñaranda, Susan Lara, Connie Jan Maraan, and Raj and Seann Mansukhani. Sutra readings were usually on Saturday mornings, and I had to take two trains to arrive at Vito Cruz in time for the sessions. More than the sutra readings, I always looked forward to the group meditations at the Zendo, especially when abbess or shifu was facilitating. The sutra reading sessions at Fo Guang Shan are an essay in itself. Suffice it to say, for now, that I became a writer because, at several points in my life, I met writers like Ma’am Marj who shared so generously of their minds and lives.