Chapter 3

Content warnings for colorism, misogyny, and homophobia. These issues are still prevalent in Filipino society today. I included them as a critique of our society, not an endorsement of those things.

CONTINUED FROM CHAPTER 2

’60s film director, Robin Espinosa (1941-?). She was a brilliant young creative, but had to disguise herself as a man to be accepted as a director. She had a contract with Sampaguita Pictures and later Celestial Pictures, but when she threatened to expose them for using her talents and slapping a man’s name and face on her hard work, the executives promptly got rid of her. She disappeared sometime in 1967. Miss Aragon tells me she was the love of her life. Some part of her hopes that Robin is still alive.

’60s film star Nieves Daral, better known as just Nieves (1943–1967). A good friend’s of Bettina Aragon. As we all know, she died young, at 24. She has been immortalized in Pinoy pop culture thanks to the “beautiful” photographs of her death at her wedding. Her fiancé was the wealthy, Spanish mestizo founder of Celestial Pictures, Fernando “Nando” Celestial.

’60s film star Francisco Fullido (1944-?). Not much is known about his life before acting. He claimed to be from the rich Sy family of Cebu, and at the time (before the Internet), there was no way to verify or disprove it. However, Miss Aragon confirmed to me (the journalist) that Fullido was indeed lying about that. Miss Aragon believes that his father was most likely a Japanese invader who sexually assaulted his mother, and that Fullido grew up poor and fatherless in Camiguin. Fullido was known for being a con artist before disappearing sometime in 1967. Miss Aragon believes that he and Miss Daral were romantically involved, so Miss Daral’s fiancé got rid of him.

Eugene Andrews (1945-present). A gifted young college student who did the artwork on Espinosa’s film sets. He was bisexual and had relationships with men and women alike. With his boyfriend, Andrews fled from the Philippines and to the United States during the Machado dictatorship that lasted from 1965 to 1986. He was known as an outspoken, intelligent activist, in addition to being a talented artist. Miss Aragon feels lucky to know that he is alive.

BETTINA POV: MARCH 15, 1965; OUTSIDE THE MANILA GRAND OPERA HOUSE; AVENIDA RIZAL, NEW MANILA, PHILIPPINES

Pagkatapos ng pelikula, sinundan ako ni Nieves. “Wait, I’ll help you get home,” she told me. “You said you’re new here, right?”

I laughed. I blushed a little. May konting crush ako sa kanya noon. I never admitted it to myself at the time, though, especially because Nieves never seemed to reciprocate.

“Yeah. I’m from Nueva Ecija. But I, um, I’m only new compared to the rest of you. I’ve been here for a month, so I know how to get home,” sabi ko.

“Oh, wow, really? Nice. Where do you live?”

“Marikina.”

“Marikina…?” Nieves blinked at me as we stopped under the lights of the Manila Grand Opera House. “So your parents must be rich, huh?”

I waved my hand and said, “Oh no, no. They’re really not rich. I actually came here with only ₱5. Pero ang babait ng mga tao sa Marikina. Alam mo na sila ang ‘Shoe Capital’ ng bansa?”

I lifted my foot up, the golden radiance illuminating my sand-colored oxfords. “I met a landlord, Mr. Aquino, when I first came to Manila. Ang bait niya; he gave me these shoes for free, and told me that I didn’t need to pay any rent until the month’s end.”

For a moment, she looked to the side. “And what would you have to do if you couldn’t pay?”

I shrugged. “Palagay ko ipapalinis niya lang sa akin ang bahay nila ng pamilya niya. Sabi niya na ang mga dalagang provinciana katulad ko ay magagaling sa paglilinis.”

She raised an eyebrow; my smile faltered. I got nervous. Sabi ko, “Hindi naman problema para sa’kin iyon. Marunong akong maglinis ng bahay.”

“Right.” Nieves glanced away again, shoving her hands into the pockets of her coat. “Can I take a tour of Marikina? I mean, it sounds like a pretty groovy place.”

So dinala ko siya sa amin. I couldn’t say no to her.

Pag dating namin sa inuupahan ko, tinanggal namin ang mga sapatos namin. Ako, naka oxfords; si Nieves, naka kitten heels. Sexy, pero conservative, diba? Alam na alam niya kung ano ang gusto ng kalalakihan.

She peeked inside my small bedroom. All the walls inside my apartment were white. I had hardly any furniture, except for a single, round dining table. A radio sat on the table, next to a few magazines with torn pages, which I’d taped to the walls.

Mga litrato ng isang maputi, mestiza na aktres. In some of the photos, from vibrant, full-color studio pictorials, she was simply smiling. Others were simply stills from a black-and-white film, where the actress chomped on a big cigar. Idol ko. Kilala niyo pa kaya ang idol ko noon?

“Do you want some soup?” tanong ko. “Meron akong gulay dito at tubing na pang-sabaw.” I lifted up a glass pitcher on my kitchen table, next to a bag of produce.

“Sure,” she said. “So you’re a Gloria Romero fanatic?” I nodded. Siguro kilala ninyo si Gloria Romero ngayon bilang lola-lola lamang ng mga paborito niyong artista. Pero noon, siya ang aming Kathryn Bernardo, siya ang aming Nadine Lustre, siya ang aming Belle Mariano.

I stepped out for a moment to grab some sticks of firewood. I placed them next to the front door.

“Well… Dalagang Ilokana was my favorite movie when I was a child,” I told Nieves. I poured the vegetables out from the bag and picked some for the soup. “My parents were horrified by the fact that I like that movie so much, because it’s all about smoking, and they don’t want me to smoke.” I laughed. “I don’t smoke, but I don’t know… I like that it’s about a young Ilocano woman like myself. She inspires me.”

Nieves nodded. She leaned against the doorframe between the bedroom and the dining area. “I don’t approve of smoking, but that sounds like a more enjoyable representation of one’s ethnic origins than the ones I see of mine.” She sighed. “I remember seeing Prinsesa Naranja when I was 16. Do you remember that movie?”

I nodded again. “1960, right? It stars Fernando Poe Jr., Lani Oteyza, and Elizabeth Ramsey.”

“Tama.” Glumly, Nieves said, “The opening scene is still engraved in my mind. Brown-skinned, Bisaya Elizabeth Ramsey tells herself in the mirror, ‘Maybe with enough goat’s milk, my skin will finally turn white.’” She sighed. “Miss Elizabeth is quite beautiful, I think. And I love her songs. But that’s why I often speak in English.

The 1960 Filipino film Prinsesa Naranja starts with a scene of the half-Black, Bisaya actress Elizabeth Ramsey wanting white skin. She is shown as undesirable because of her brown skin.

“I’m not that good at Tagalog yet,” said Nieves. “The languages I spoke growing up were mostly Bisaya and English. But that’s why I’m practicing; that’s why I spend so much time trying to remove all traces of my Bisaya accent when I speak in Tagalog.” Her voice lowered to a whisper. “I don’t want to play characters like that. I want to be the leading lady someday. Parang tanga lang ako, alam ko…”

Shaking my head, I told her, “Hindi ka tanga.”

She grabbed a magazine from the table. She rifled through the pages for a moment, before landing on an advertisement. A woman with white skin posed for the ad. She took another magazine and landed on another ad. The lady for this one had the same snowy white complexion. In yet another volume, she found another ad with a pale, mestiza actress.

Ads in 1960s Philippines almost always featured white-skinned actresses. It wasn’t until Gloria Diaz and Nora Aunor came into the scene that you could see any brown leading ladies in Philippine media.

“Leading ladies look like you, Bettina,” said Nieves. “They don’t look like me.”

I took in a deep breath. A few moments pass and I approached her. I forced myself to be brave and cupped Nieves’ chin. I looked into her eyes, which was hard to do because of my crush on her at the time.

“You’re very beautiful, Nieves, and I mean that.” I paused. “Kung lalaki lang ako, hahalikan kita ngayon.”

Nieves frowned, eyes widening slightly in surprise. I blushed intensely, but proceeded with my words. “Your skin color makes no difference. You can light up the big screen, I know it. You will do that someday, okay? There’s a first for everything. You could be the first film star who looks the way that you do. You can do that.”

Nieves’ mouth falls open. A minute later, she smiles and nods. “All right.”

Someone knocks on the door. “Oh, wait. That must be Mr. Aquino,” says Bettina. She opens it for him, giving him a bright smile. “Hello, sir! I was just showing my friend around.”

TO BE CONTINUED…