We were on our second bottle of dry, white wine. Beer overflows when you live in Nordrhein Westfalen, but for wine, a special trip to one of the excellent wineries in the Rhine Valley is required. And because we lived in the northern part, several cases of white and red wine were purchased. He laid on the grass, gazing at the stars, rubbing his full belly. It was the pleasant month of May. The mild breeze nudged the lilies of the valley that dotted the grass. The bells of...

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The first American teachers (the “Thomasites”) also arrived in the Philippines starting in June 1901 to staff the public schools which were being opened all over the pacified areas. In 1903 the first government scholars (pensionados –boys and girls of high school age) were sent to the United States to become teachers, engineers, doctors and lawyers, on condition that for five years after their return they would be liable for government service. For better or for worse, the American...

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Bigyan’s artwork, his creative technique, his feel-good home that is open to the public for luncheons and gatherings, his artistry, cooking and pottery demos and art gallery have been featured in many newspapers and magazines. But not much has been written about this mild mannered,generous man with an infectious heart-warming laugh. Ugu Bigyan is an artist, an accomplished cook and landscape designer, among other skills. The idyllic home he shares with his family, friends and guests is testimony to his natural artistic talent. Walking the intricate brick, tiled and pebbled...

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Mario V. Fernandez grew up with art, not just drawing on every piece of paper he found, but surrounded by fellow creative people, most of them with backgrounds in theater. While he didn’t try out acting, a life in the arts was the only thing he knew. His parents let him be, and soon enough, he was winning school competitions.“Art is my life-saver, mentally and socially,” says Fernandez, focusing on how he can constantly be creative. When he and his family moved to the United States when he was...

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As you purposefully pack your possessions you often become aware that these things that you hold in your hands are the same things that become gateways to memories often joyful, poignant or distressing. Then you realize that not only what you hold in your hands but also everything else around you transforms themselves into similar portals. This door that saw many hellos and goodbyes, that window that saw you looking wistfully through the grilled windows on a rainy afternoon, that stairway where little feet scampered up and down merrily...

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