I was born in Marinduque. In Negros, where I learned to walk and play, I received Lolo Quentin’s legendary-loving-whack-in-the-butt with his stiff baston just to send us off to siesta. When I was six years old I started to run errands for mama at the palengke along Pepin street in Sampaloc, Manila. Pepin’s renamed J. Marzan.
My father was a very silent man, may he rest in peace. While he was still alive I had, on occasions, succeeded in making a more articulate person out of him, for he could not help asking “Anak may trabaho ka na?” On her part mama would always remind me, in her typical tagalog accent, “Kita’y hindi mandin mayaman.” Well, I have persistent loving parents. In return I had my bachelor’s degree at the age of 30.
Feast, Martin of Tours, November 11, 2013