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Why I can’t forget Anding Roces—the humor, the wisdom, the writing—and the six-pack abs

The patriot, the National Artist for Literature, marks his 100th birth anniversary this year, along with Eddie Romero, F. Sionil Jose

Anding Roces
Anding Roces as young bird lover

What’s with 1924, that three of our distinguished National Artists were born?  There’s filmmaker Eddie Romero on July 5, followed by writers Alejandro “Anding” Roces on July 13, and F. Sionil Jose on December 3.

Romero passed away on May 28, 2013, at age 88,  Roces on May 23, 2011, at 86, and three years shy of becoming a centenarian, Sionil Jose passed away on January 6, 2022, at age 97.

Today there’s a series of celebrations for the 100th birth anniversaries of these National Artists.

Anding Roces

Scene from the play ‘Ganito Kami Noon, Paano Na Ngayon’ (Photo by Kiko Cabuena from CCP)

Anding Roces

Tanghalang Pilipino Actor’s Company members Mark Lorenz and Arjhay Babon, who plays Kulas, in a scene from ‘Ganito Kami Noon, Paano Na Ngayon’ (Photo by Kiko Cabuena from CCP)

One is the new full-length play, Ganito Kami Noon, Paano Na Ngayon, which melds the more popular works of Romero, Jose, and Roces. It was the opening salvo of the Cultural Center of the Philippines’ (CCP) unconventional performances titled Out-of-the-Box Series, staged last July 5–7, 2024 at the CCP Black Box Theater.

The devised play was written by multi-awarded veteran playwright and De La Salle University professor Jose Victor Torres, and directed by CCP vice president and artistic director Dennis Marasigan.

The Tanghalang Pilipino Actor’s Company, led by its indefatigable associate artistic director Marco Viaña, was given the opportunity to interpret the new material. It must have been a challenge— they were trying to catch their breath after the three-week-long run of this year’s Virgin Labfest (VLF), but the well-trained TP actors, like two-legged sponges, have always been quick on the draw.

As the title suggests, the story weaves Romero’s classic 1967 film, Ganito Kami Noon, Paano Kayo Ngayon, Jose’s novel Poon from the Rosales Saga, and Roces’ international prize-winning short story, We Filipinos Are Mild Drinkers.

“Yes, we know they are National Artists, we hear or read their names, but how familiar are we, especially the youth, with their works?” Marasigan told TheDiarist.ph in a chat on the lobby of Tanghalang Ignacio Gimenez (CCP Black Box Theater) during the final VLF performances over the weekend. “Believe it or not, most of the younger generations now have no idea what these great artists did, why they are called National Artists.”

Marasigan chose the three works, and asked Torres to create a common narrative—not an easy task, but Marasigan nonetheless was amazed.

“He exceeded my expectations,” he told TheDiarist.ph.

The central character is Ka Kulas (played by Amado Arjhay Babon), after the main protagonist in Romero’s film played by a young Christopher de Leon. The play reimagines the journey of the innocent, almost gullible Ka Kulas, against the backdrop of overlapping Spanish and American occupations and the anti-Japanese Hukbong Bayan Laban Sa Mga Hapon (Hukbalahap) movement.

In an earlier CCP statement, Torres said, “Through this production, we bring the concept of identity beyond the usual context—accepting our identity as Filipinos in different scenarios. When discussing heroism, we often focus on the Katipunan and the Philippine Revolution. But what about the American war, the Hukbalahap movement? No matter how we condemn them as Communists, they are still Filipino.”

Marasigan said he hoped “the play will ignite curiosity and spark a genuine interest in the works of the National Artists.”

Romero’s Ganito Kami Noon, Paano Kayo Ngayon, and another acclaimed work, Agila, are available in restored versions through ABS-CBN’s Sagip Pelikula project, on several streaming platforms.

‘Believe it or not, most of the younger generations now have no idea what these great artists did, why they are called National Artists’

Jose’s books are available in major bookstores, including the family-owned institution of a book store, the Solidaridad Bookshop in Malate.

Among the three, it’s Roces who may have been forgotten by the younger generations after his death 12 years ago. This is not surprising, because his last collection of short stories, Something To Crow About, originally published in 1997 and re-issued in July 2005 by the International Organization of Folk Art Philippines Inc., is now out of print.

The same with Fiesta, the landmark coffeetable book on Philippine festivals and their valuable role in the preservation of our history and heritage. Published in 1980, the book is now only in select libraries. A collector could find in Amazon and other online bookstores a copy that could cost a fortune, or at least beyond a regular book lover’s budget.

Veteran culture and arts editor-writer Lito Zulueta wrote: “Aside from his kuwentong sabungero, Roces also churns out kuwentong piyesta. In fact, Roces is our poet of the fiesta. No Filipino writer, perhaps not even Nick Joaquin, has written as capably, as eruditely and as impressively of the fiesta as he.”

Roces once said in an interview that he conceptualized the book in the early 1960s, when some ill-informed politicians tried to craft a law abolishing fiestas in the Philippines, saying they were costly for the common folk and not relevant to Filipinos. Roces, then an influential figure in media, the culturati, and the academe, led a campaign to retain the festivals that bonded Filipino families and celebrated kinship and local culture, and following the Catholic tradition of honoring patron saints.

Joaquin, in an article, acknowledged Roces’ bravery, and wrote, “At a time when it was damned as superstition and colonial rubbish, our Christian folk culture found a champion who corrected our perspective, moving us from prejudice to appreciation.”

I was privileged to have met Romero, Jose, and Roces in my younger years, though it was only with Roces and Jose that I managed to have longer conversations with in my newspaper lifestyle beat.

I wrote about Jose in 2022 in TheDiarist.ph, a few days after his passing.

READ: https://www.thediarist.ph/f-sionil-jose-how-can-culture-grow-if-there-are-no-critics/

I met “Sir Anding” (Roces) about two-and-a-half decades ago. Sometime in 2006 was the stage musical adaptation of Something To Crow About, his collection of 11 short stories with the common protagonist, Kiko, a typical sabungero so obsessed with cocks and cockfighting that he neglects his wife.

I would learn later that the character was patterned after Sir Anding’s brother, Francisco, nicknamed Pipo. In their teens, the young Anding would tag along with Pipo to the cockpits. Playing the lead characters were Repertory Philippines seasoned actors Joel Trinidad and Liesl Batucan, with an ensemble of performers, dancers, and actors from the Earthsavers’ Dreams Ensemble.

Anding Roces

George Yang was guest actor playing judge in ‘Something To Crow About’. (Screenshot from Anding Roces YouTube channel)

There were guest actors, including the US-based Bernardo Bernardo, and believe it or not, the McDonald’s tycoon George Yang who played a small-town judge and showed off his tenor voice and acting skills. He even did all performances on the US tour.

The libretto was written by critic-playwright-short story writer Isagani Cruz, and the musical directed by Cecile Guidote-Alvarez, with Frank Rivera as assistant director.

Roces’ modern zarzuela in English had its world premiere in 2006 in the new auditorium at Emilio Aguinaldo College in Manila, the opening performance in the three-week-long 31st Unesco International Theater Institute conference and World Drama Congress at CCP, Manila Hotel and various universities in the Philippines.

Something To Crow About was also staged at La Mama Theatre in New York and Alex Theatre in Glendale City, California, the whole month of June 2007.

At the time, Sir Anding, as we called him, had just celebrated his 82nd birthday. And given his several doctorate degrees, in our reportage we referred to him as Dr. Roces.  I realized back then that he had been retired for already 22 years, yet he was still a human dynamo.

I realized back then that he had been retired for already 22 years, yet he was still a human dynamo

With round, naturally balding pate and prominent Spanish mestizo features, Dr. Roces looked much younger than his age. A proud and healthy senior, he maintained that dignified bearing, like a military officer fresh from the battlefield.

For him, retirement meant remaining active in pursuing his passions—creative writing, journalism, business management, being a doting grandfather, an all-around humorist and the like.

Besides his humorous short stories, his views and insights were documented in his newspaper column, Roses and Thorns, which ran for five decades, starting in the then Roces family-owned broadsheet, The Manila Times. It stopped only during Martial Law and resumed in the 1990s, thrice a week in The Philippine Star, up to the time of his death.

The Roces clan in the family home in Pasay City: from left, back row, Marquitos, Peping, Chito, Pipo; front, from left, Anding, Tuting, Inocencia, Rafael, Titong and Ding

I recall interviewing Dr. Roces in his office at GSIS building in Pasay City one mid-morning, and of all things, we talked about his health and wellness. For a cover story of a quarterly health magazine, the peg was to find someone dealing with diabetes and hypertension. Dr. Roces was neither diabetic nor hypertensive, but given his humor, wisdom and insights, he made it to the cover.

Dr. Roces was trustee of GSIS, and its building was just one of the offices he went to every day. Come afternoon, it would be another workplace. He was chairman of the board of trustees of Colegio de San Agustin and St. Mary’s University, and chairman of the board of regents of the St. Louis University in Baguio City. He also sat on the board of directors of many corporations. He said how, despite his age— “this old man,” he said—he never ran out of breath.

For 38 years, every morning, he never failed to walk one and a half hours around the village where he lived in Makati City. “Believe it or not, I miss my morning walk only if there’s a storm or a coup d’etat, or if I got sick, which seldom happens. This is the reason why I am able to maintain my ideal weight and waistline,” he told us.

To see for myself, he asked me to feel his abs—to the surprise of his secretary, who blushed when Dr. Roces lifted his guayabera and showed us his stomach. Instead of barong, Dr. Roces preferred the equally tropical weather-friendly Latin American formal upper garment.

With my open right hand, as if doing a “karate” chop, I pressed my palm on Dr. Roces’ stomach. It was as firm as concrete, with even palpable indentions—a six-pack. “I used to be a boxer. I fought in the ring, seriously, right after World War II. That was a long time ago but still, I managed to maintain my firm abs,” Dr. Roces added, patting his abs.

‘I used to be a boxer. I fought in the ring, seriously, right after World War II…. I managed to maintain my firm abs’

Only now I realized, in hindsight, that Dr. Roces still holds the distinction as the one and only National Artist with well-chiseled abs.

Many older people, especially the men, worry about hypertension, diabetes and other fatal diseases associated with aging, caused by decades of neglect, over-indulgence, and the sedentary lifestyle. Dr. Roces told me he never worried about those things because he was the type who watched his diet, had good sleeping habit and regular exercise. Moreover, he had learned how to handle stress very well.

“I never smoke. I drink wine occasionally. I never had a vice, come to think of it. Not even cockfighting, even if most of my stories dealt with game cocks, because I’ve never tried betting and haven’t visited a cockpit for almost half a century….

“I used to be hypertensive, but I had a quadruple bypass about 10 years ago (1996). Since then, I’ve never felt healthier.”

His diet consisted basically of cereals, fish, fruits, vegetables, and sometimes, chicken. He drank lots of fruit juices, especially those rich in vitamin C.

He would be up at 6 in the morning, do brisk walking until 7 or 7:30 am. By 9 am, he’d be at his office desk. He’d be home before dinner, around 7 pm, or earlier. To relax before hitting the sack, he would spend quality time with his grandchildren. He made sure to get eight hours of sleep.

Anding Roces with daughter Elizabeth. ‘I am his only child but I never felt alone for I always shared my father’s love with the rest of the nation’. (Photo from Anding Roces official FB page)

Dr. Roces was married to Irene Yorston Viola, the granddaughter of Maximo Viola, the patriot who financed the publication of Jose Rizal’s Noli Me Tangere. They have a daughter, Elizabeth Roces. At the time of our interview, Elizabeth and her family lived with Dr. Roces and his wife, which Dr. Roces preferred so that he could play with his grandchildren.

As chairman of Philippine Center of International PEN, Dr. Roces led the fight against censorship of writers.

With F. Sionil Jose, he founded the PEN Philippine Chapter, and became its chairman. PEN is an international organization of creative writers, which stands for Poets, Essayists, and Novelists. He once headed the Philippine chapter of International Theater Institute, and was chairman of Unesco National Commission of the Philippines. He was also director of the century-old Casino Español in Manila.

Like other celebrated figures in Philippine society, Dr. Roces had his detractors. Some questioned his credibility as a writer of cockfighting, because they assumed that he had never been to a cockpit arena, given his “elitist” background.

F. Sionil Jose disproved this misconception. In the introduction to the book Something To Crow About, Jose wrote an amusing anecdote.

“Anding’s stories of cockfighting stem from actual knowledge of the sport. His older brother Francisco took him to cockpits and had him carry the gamecock. Then, once they approached the cockpit, his brother took the rooster. That was when he learned that those who carried the birds were not charged an entrance fee, but those who went without one got to pay,” wrote Sionil Jose.

Dr. Roces told me during the interview how Jose was surprised yet flushed at his fascination with cocks and cockfighting and the stories he wrote about them.

F. Sionil Jose once asked him, ‘You’re supposed to be from the elite class, how come you write those stories as if you’ve lived with the common folk, the masses?’

In one of their conversations, Dr. Roces recalled Sionil Jose telling him: “You’re supposed to be from the elite class, how come you write those stories as if you’ve lived with the common folk, the masses? You wrote them as if you’re someone born and bred in the barrios. I should know that because I fit the barrio-boy description better.”

Dr. Roces replied: “That’s the advantage of being an outsider, you tend to be more observant. If I’d lived my youth in the barrios like you, I would have written those stories with a very different perspective.”

During the Japanese Occupation, as a guerilla, he lived in the barrios in the countryside. Those years of hiding and constant traveling enabled him to get in touch with the common folk, and gave him ideas for short stories.

Dr. Roces came from the illustrious clan of journalists, businessmen, artists, and patriots. His uncle, Don Alejandro, Sr., was publisher and owner of what was once the biggest newspaper chain, TVT, in the country and in Southeast Asia. TVT stands for Taliba, a tabloid in Filipino, the Spanish daily La Vanguardia, and the English-language newspaper Tribune. Alejandro, Sr. was regarded as the father of Philippine modern journalism. Dr. Roces’ cousin, Joaquin “Chino” Roces, the son of Alejandro, Sr., was a distinguished newspaperman and freedom fighter.  His brother is acclaimed visual artist and author Alfredo “Ding” Roces, now based in Australia. Former model Isabel Roces is a distant grandniece, the granddaughter of Chino.

Dr. Roces’ sense of humor came out spontaneously in interviews. To the entertainment media, he introduced himself as “the ex-husband of Rosanna.” At the time, Rosanna Roces was the most popular sexpot, and some tabloid writers actually believed Dr. Roces—they wrote “blind-item” stories about Rosanna’s old tisoy papa (ex-benefactor).

At the time, Rosanna Roces was the most popular sexpot, and some tabloid writers actually believed Dr. Roces

Dr. Roces was also director and writer of two documentary films, El Legado and Campaña de Baler. Both won the Conda de Foxa Award of the Certamen Cine Documental Ibero-Americano y Filipino in Bilbao, Spain. These films, which sadly are inaccessible now, portray the Spanish influence on Philippine culture.

After grade school and high school at the Ateneo de Manila University, Dr. Roces pursued a Bachelor of Fine Arts at the University of Arizona, where he was first acknowledged as a literary writer. It was there that he wrote We Filipinos Are Mild Drinkers, which won first prize in the university’s short story writing contest, was published in the state’s Arizona Quarterly, and included in the prestigious annual Martha Foley Anthology of Best American Stories.

Rafael Roces visiting his son Anding during his college years at the University of Arizona

His initial college course was mining engineering because his father, Rafael, was in the mining business, and wanted one of his sons to have a degree that could be useful in the business.  He was about to be kicked out for failing all his mathematics subjects, but was told he could stay if he shifted to literature.

He proved to his parents he was on the right track. Even before he graduated from college, apart from Arizona Quarterly, his works were published in such US magazines as Southwest Review, the Pacific Spectator and the New Mexico Quarterly, and in Australia, The Hemisphere.

The statesman Claro M. Recto, in a 1959 letter to Dr. Roces praising his earlier collection of short stories titled Of Cocks and Kites, wrote: “It is my sincere desire that you will someday write something about our politicians. You do not have to title the book as ‘Of Politicians and Kites’. ‘Of Politicians’ will do. The other term will be implied. I assure you it will be a great success.”

And reassuringly Dr. Roces did that, not only in his succeeding short stories but in his column as well.

He earned his Master of Arts at Far Eastern University (FEU), Manila, and received his Doctor of Arts & Letters from the Polytechnic University of the Philippines (PUP). He was conferred doctorate degrees (honoris causa) from Toyo University, Japan, the Ateneo de Manila University, and St. Louis University in Baguio City.

While dean of the College of Arts and Sciences at Far Eastern University in the 1960s, he earned the credit for having convinced the elusive, celebrated poet, National Artist Jose Garcia Villa, to come home after decades of self-exile in the US and to teach at FEU and eventually at UP Diliman.

During the administration of President Diosdado Macapagal, he served as Secretary of Education until the end of the presidential term, surviving the usual Cabinet rigodon. It was in those years when he led the campaign to move the Philippine Independence Day from July 4 to June 12, initiated the change of language from English to Filipino in the country’s stamps, currency, and passports, and for recovering Jose Rizal’s original manuscripts of Noli Me Tangere, El Filibusterismo and the poem Mi Ultimo Adios, after they were stolen from the National Library in 1961.

Perhaps the best evaluation of Roces’ life and works comes from Sionil Jose: “All too often, writers are applauded only for their pious pronouncements, their literary skills. Their blatant trespasses are conveniently ignored or glossed over. It should not be this way—writers should also be judged by how they respond to moral pressures that they face in their particular time, by how they live.”

During the Marcos regime, unlike other writers who willingly joined the government for survival and a life of ease, Dr. Roces never gave in. Among the millions of Filipinos, Dr. Roces was the only one arrested and almost jailed for refusing to vote in one of the many rigged elections by the conjugal dictatorship. He earned the admiration of other writers and artists, his peers, especially those who once dismissed him as elitist.

Dr. Roces ran in the 1978 Interim Batasang Pambansa elections as one of the candidates of LABAN, the original opposition party founded by then detained Sen. Benigno “Ninoy” Aquino Jr. Amid all this, he never stopped writing and received commendations for it.

In 1995, he received the Zobel Award for Literature. In 1997, he was given the S.E.A. Writer Award by the Kingdom of Thailand.

He was conferred the Order of National Artist in 2003, cited as “the country’s best writer of comic short stories” and “the champion of Filipino cultures.”

As parting shot during our 2006 interview, I remember Dr. Roces telling me: “At my age, I am still up for more creative outputs. There is no secret to my longevity or my good health. It’s just that I live a simple life. I want simple things. I follow simple plans. I have a purpose that I pursue with simple means. And I never lost my sense of humor.”

And to commemorate Dr. Roces’ 100th birth year, we strongly suggest that his books be reprinted. It is high time.

I never saw Dr. Roces again after my government job and I went back fulltime to media.

Let me share one of my favorite jokes that Dr. Roces made in a TV interview a few years before he passed away on May 23, 2011, at 86.

It was a time when street crimes were so rampant in Metro Manila, long before extra-judicial killings became common headlines. Dr. Roces told the host-interviewer that at least the Philippines still had the “fastest” police response to a crime scene, compared to other countries.

With a poker face, he said, “In Japan, if there’s a crime happening and an emergency call is made to 110, the police will arrive at the scene in less than three minutes. In the United States, if you call 911, the police will be there in two minutes or less. In the Philippines, if something crooked is taking place or someone’s rights are being violated, you don’t have to call any emergency hotline, because the cops are already there.”


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