‘Pambihira!’
Last Sunday we were in Metro Manila’s third Chinatown—the Banawe area in Quezon City—when I thought of going to the Dapitan “mall” with its cluster of stores selling assorted household goods and, reflecting the season, Christmas ornaments.
It’s almost like an expedition because the goods are similar but, occasionally, in the chaotic maze of shops and stalls with rough-and-tumble displays, you can find little objects that are unique—so well-captured by the Filipino pambihira, an exclamatory adjective that means out of the ordinary, or rarely seen.
As we wrapped up with Dapitan, I thought of our next stop. When you have children the choices narrow down, especially after Dapitan and my son insisting that we should get an akyat bahay Santa Claus (a burglar Santa Claus).
Article continues after this advertisementThen I remembered reading about Manila FAME on its last day at the SMX Convention Center. I’d heard about the event in previous years but had never attended.
With hardly any traffic we got to SMX and ran into some trouble. “No children below 12,” the sign said, but fortunately there was a kids’ area. Business attire encouraged, another sign said (I’m paraphrasing). I was in jeans and flip flops and so were my companions, but we got through.
Dazzled, reverential
Article continues after this advertisementIt was a strange study in contrasts. At Dapitan, nearly everything was imported… from China. At FAME, nearly everything was made of local materials: furniture, lamps and interior decor, clothing and accessories. It was like a museum with a number of curated exhibits—one devoted entirely to bridal wear, for example.
FAME is a trade fair, and there were many foreigners who were clearly out to buy in bulk, asking about specifications, shipping costs.
My companions, although used to being dazzled in malls, ended up holding their breath at the FAME exhibits, which don’t just impress but also put you in a reverential mood. Pambihira, said softly.
Most of the products at FAME were only for display, but those you could buy were really expensive. A necklace made of recycled paper could set you back by P1,500. Who would have thought that garbage could make a return with so much value? The same store had furniture made of recycled materials, including forest “wastes”—chips and barks.
I did feel bad about the kids not being allowed in because this would have been a chance to help them appreciate things local. I did impress on them afterwards that the Dapitan stuff was imported from China; many were bargains but would not last too long.
I then described what was at the FAME event—all local, mostly expensive, but this was because through innovations in design and craftsmanship, you get to add value to something many times over its original cost. The accessories and furniture made of recycled materials were a case in point, but I emphasized that you still needed imagination to put them together, such as in choosing the right blend of colors.
There were a lot of transformed traditional crafts, the Ilokano inabel—woven cloth—from Inabel ni Atong being my favorite. The traditional designs are still there, but so are new ones, and new colors. They have just introduced inabel on silk, to be made into barong Tagalog, again an innovation.
Traditional modern
FAME looks totally modern but really still builds on old traditions, in a renaissance or rebirth. I wasn’t surprised that so many of the exhibitors were based in Pampanga and Cebu—provinces known for their artisans. It’s not just a manual skill that’s being preserved but an artistic eye, an ability to see new designs, even new uses for old products.
If I’m not mistaken, FAME grew out of government efforts to promote local industries for a larger market, including those overseas. Some “purists” frown at the way designs and colors are reoriented for western tastes, but I see another process going on, and this is Filipino “tastes” reshaping the world. We have a wider spectrum of sensory tastes. Visually, for example, at the FAME exhibit you could see the colors going from the very simple, like the blacks, whites and grays, to the riotous.
While tapping the export market is fine, I did feel somewhat sad that the products we have at FAME are little-known to most Filipinos, that the best of what we produce will end up in fine homes abroad while we stock up on imported items.
I do enjoy Dapitan for the bit of adventure that it provides as you look into nooks and crannies. One time I found some old Filipino books in a corner of a shop that sold mainly Chinese interior decor. The pambihira stuff is always unexpected, like a set of metal dividers that was rusting and left out in the rain. No one was sure who was selling the dividers until someone offered to sell them to me for a pittance, with a look indicating that she was wondering why I was even interested.
I do despair at times at all the tiangge (flea markets) we have, mainly selling stuff from China and Thailand. They are low-cost indeed, and are functional, but they’re not going to last long enough for my children’s children to see; in fact, there have been times when I’d buy something for them in the morning, and it would have broken down before the end of the day.
I take the kids to antique shops so they can see what toys were like at one time, as well as furniture, and assorted stuff. There, they get to wind up old clocks (and sometimes, toys and music boxes). And of course there’s so much of things Filipino from another time when durability was important.
I’m glad FAME was at least open to students. I’m hoping that they picked up new ideas and, more importantly, become inspired to be bolder in designs. I’m hoping that they will look to our own traditions to start with to produce something that produces awe and yet calms the spirit, something to cherish and to pass on to friends, or the next generation, maybe ending up someday in antique shops and eliciting wonder: How did they make this? Pambihira!
* * *
mtan@inquirer.com.ph