THE PARTY'S OVER by Betty Burgos-Bael

Author's Profile 
BETTY BAEL'S ACRE OF DIAMONDS

2015 was her 60th, her diamond year!  Betty Bael’s greatest gift?  Waking up one morning to discover that she was sitting on her “acre of diamonds.”

The first half of her life was filled with adventures.  She graduated with a Master's degree from U.P., after which she worked with government and corporate organizations both in the Philippines and abroad.  She married a career diplomat and with their two sons, they pitched tents in the four continents of the world.

She is enjoying the second part of her life, her season of reflection. For her, it’s time to party with the “soul” and honor her journey, and most especially honor her FilAm friends who inspire her with their stories of grit and grace.

Her most recent project, “Filipinos in America: Stories of Triumph over Trials,” recounts the unsinkable spirit of Filipino immigrants in the U.S. Her story, “The Party’s Over,” tells of her many challenges as wife of a Philippine career diplomat and as an engaged community advocate.

THE PARTY'S OVER
by Betty Burgos-Bael

"The party's over. The candles flicker and dim. You danced and dreamed through the night. It seemed to be right just being with him. Now you must wake up, all dreams must end. Take off your makeup, the party's over..."

January 2002. The party was finally over. The past days were stressful. You and I arrived home at the official residence of the Philippine Consul General of Los Angeles in Beverly Hills. We went to bed that night, not knowing what the next morning would bring. As I closed my eyes, memories of our 20-year journey in four continents of the world, came rushing back.

When I met you, I was seduced by an idea that was foreign to me at that time: "love of country." As a young girl growing up in a happy closely-knit family in Negros province, all I knew was love of God, love of family, and love of neighbor.

You, Edwin Bael, and me. We were meant to be. We both took up Master in Public Administration with the same major, Public Policy and Program Administration at U.P.-Manila. You received a U.P. scholarship while I was a recipient of a scholarship grant from PCARRD (Philippine Council for Agriculture and Resources Research and Development)-USAID Program.

We both spoke Cebuano. You passed the bar and worked with the Court of Appeals. I worked with DOST (Department of Science and Technology)-PCARRD. We became friends, then campus sweethearts. At the end of our 2-year course, you received the Robert Stauffer Award for Academic Excellence. Your goal, which was to serve our country and people, gave you the drive to succeed.

I was fascinated with the idea. And I was fascinated with you.

You passed the Foreign Service exam and worked at the Department of Foreign Affairs soon after we married on January 9, 1982. Our honeymoon baby Tristan was born towards end of that year.

In 1986 you graduated from the National Defense College of the Philippines with a Master in National Security Administration. You also received your first assignment as Vice Consul at the Philippine Embassy in Madrid, Spain, under President Cory's administration. I resigned from PCARRD and joined you and Tristan on our first adventure.

The party had begun.

"Ma'am, we don't wear rubber shoes or blue jeans going to the wet market here in Madrid," a Filipina who worked for a Señora on the street where we lived, whispered to me as she looked at my shoes and jeans. I later noticed both the "matronas" and domestic helpers dressed up even for the wet market! I learned to look "respectable" wherever I went. During the cold season, Madrileños dressed elegantly as they strolled around the block. The working men were always in black suits.

We attended many diplomatic parties, mostly tea parties for me. Madame Felina Rocha, the wife of Ambassador Juan Jose Rocha, was for me, the epitome of an Ambassador's spouse. She was confidently elegant and beautiful, and had a flair for entertaining. Our four years in Spain was my first "finishing school" as a spouse of a diplomat, which I understood was part of your performance rating as a Philippine diplomat.  

In Madrid, I gave birth to our second son, Bernard in 1988. I was busy juggling my role as a mother of two sons and as wife of a diplomat.  Our conversations ran like these: “Mrs. B, someone will be coming with me today to stay with us for a few days. He is a seaman who jumped-ship in Barcelona and has nowhere to stay for now.” Or, “Mrs. B, we have a guest for lunch today. She’s Rowena Sanchez Arrieta, the youngest pianist who had been winning top international competitions in Europe.”

I realized that to stay married to you, I had to be married to your job as well. I had to be the “wind beneath your wings.” I sought balance by having my own little world. I prayed we would be assigned to either the USA, Australia, or Canada, countries where spouses of Filipino diplomats could work.

But in 1990, after four years in Madrid, you got an assignment order to Brussels, Belgium, seat of the European Union, a major diplomatic post. “I am like a soldier. I go where I am ordered to go,” you said. I cried. I prayed that things would change. We never went to Brussels. You were reassigned to Honolulu for our second assignment in 1990. I was excited to be on American soil but to my dismay, I realized I had difficulty moving around because I didn’t drive.

In 1991, you got another assignment order to Yugoslavia. War just started there. We were advised it was not safe for the family to go with you. DFA Secretary and Mrs. Raul Manglapus had a quick layover in Honolulu and we accorded them the usual official facilitation at the airport.

Mrs. Pacita Manglapus was surprised to know about the assignment which meant we, your family, would go back to the Philippines while you were to proceed with the assignment in war-torn Yugoslavia. When Mrs. Manglapus waved goodbye to us, she said, “families should stay together. I will not promise anything, but I will see what I can do.”

That was how you were moved from “hang loose” Hawaii to “party city” Los Angeles. Our life turned into one of rush and flurry. As the Deputy Consul General of Los Angeles, we had our share of numerous weekend parties with the Fil-Am community.

A month after we arrived, I bumped into Marissa Montelibano, a classmate from St. Theresa's College-Cebu. We walked and talked from the church to her office where I was introduced to her boss. That same day, I started working at their Law Office along Wilshire Blvd. The office was a short walk from our residence and from the Consulate. My dream of coming to America and finding employment came true! As an office girl, I found myself again. I stayed there until the end of our LA term in 1994.

Once, we were visited by a retired Philippine Ambassador. I asked him how he stayed past his allotted time at his post in Europe. His advice, “Don’t rock the boat,” which meant “don’t do anything that will make you the envy of your colleagues.”

After our first tour duty of eight years abroad, we were sent back to the Philippines for home office assignment. We settled back in Los Baños, Laguna. My PCARRD friend Cynthia Mamon, CEO-President of Sun Microsystems-Philippines (PSPI at that time) gave me a supervisory job in her HR Department. The work was very fulfilling for me. I didn’t mind the commute from Los Banos to Makati for four years. It was a breeze.

Then, it was time to pack up again. Our family found ourselves down under, in the garden paradise of Canberra, Australia in 1998. You served as Consul General, second in command to Ambassador Delia Albert.

A month after we arrived in Canberra, I started working at the Visa Department of the British High Commission as a temporary staff. After six months, I was given a permanent position. I was overjoyed. I finally had my own world apart from Philippine diplomatic life.

Ambassador Delia Albert was the consummate hostess. So, I appreciated how you prepared me for the sit-down dinners with Parliamentarians and important guests. “Mrs. B, the person to your right is (name, position, brief background), to your left is…in front of you…” I was nervous in the beginning, but with practice I got the hang of conversing with these VIP guests. The Australian post was my second “finishing school.”

After two years, you received an assignment order for Los Angeles. That was a post you couldn’t refuse – you were to be the Consul General at the consulate with the biggest jurisdiction in terms of expatriated nationals.

As second timers to the post, we quickly rolled up our sleeves and got down to business. With the approval of the DFA home office, we chose a Beverly Hills home as the official residence. (Rental cost was the same as the residence of the last Consul General in exclusive Hancock Park.)

That residence had potential and turned out to be excellent in promoting our country through various events we held there. There were many opportunities to showcase our culture in the international and local circles. I didn’t hesitate to volunteer. Our official residence became the venue for events that placed our culture on display to both international and Fil-Am communities.

Many internationally renowned Filipino artists and cultural groups performed there in the presence of friends, LA local officials, Consular Corps, and Fil-Am leaders. Some of the artists and cultural groups stayed at our residence when they had nowhere to stay in LA.

I was involved with several international organizations like the LA Consular Corps Ladies Association, the ASEAN Ladies Circle of Los Angeles, and the International Committee of the Philharmonic Association of Los Angeles. I became close friends with some wives of the LA Consuls General from different countries. One of them, a Filipina married to a European Consul General said, “My husband told me that I should emulate you. We have a cultural center in LA, yet I don’t do as much as you do.” Another friend, wife of a European Consul General wrote me a note after we left LA. “During your brief 2-year term in LA, the Philippines entertained the whole international community. We missed you!”

There was the time we participated in the Orange County Protocol Foundation’s Annual Gala and Fundraising event. You cleverly thought of having three dinners at our official residence. We featured authentic food from Luzon, Visayas, and Mindanao, complete with entertainment. They were the Philippines’ participation for the silent auction. The Mindanao dinner for four was a hit and generated $1k for the Foundation.

In one of the Consular Corps holiday fundraising events, in conjunction with DOT, you were able to offer as an auction prize, a package trip to the Philippines complete with PAL tickets and hotel stays for two. It received one of the highest bids. Because of that, we were invited to the Golden Globe Awards Night. I didn’t recognize Nicole Kidman who was seated at the next table.

Leaders in the community including Norma Austin  and Ludy Ongkeko approached us to help them raise funds for David Henry Hwang’s revival of the classic musical play, “Flower Drum Song.”  With Fil-Ams Leah Salonga and Jose Llana as the main actors, who could refuse the opportunity? Sony Pictures Senior VP Fritz Friedman, a Jewish Fil-Am, and I co-chaired the gigantic task. The 2001 premier show at Mark Taper Forum in Los Angeles was a SRO success. The funds generated brought the whole production to Broadway.

The last major role you assigned to me was as chair of the Kalayaan (Independence Day) Celebrations. The formal gala attended by a thousand guests included the Consular Corps, local officials, and the Fil-Am community. They represented the more than 350 organizations under the PhilConGen-LA jurisdiction. Some guests wrote, “it was one of the most well-organized, elegant formal Philippine Independence Day Gala in LA we had seen in a long time.”  It was worth all the effort of the committee. I was on the phone daily from 8am-8pm.

The 2nd People Power forced then President Estrada to “constructively resign.” That interpretation by the Philippine Supreme Court enabled VP Gloria Macapagal Arroyo to take over as President. At that time, we were caught up with the many activities connected with your duties as Consul General. Soon after, you received a recall order to home office with no explanation. Rumors floated around. A new Consul General was to be assigned in LA.

What started as a dream turned into a nightmare.

Over a cup of coffee, the morning after that fateful evening in January 2002, we made the biggest decision of our life. “Mr. B, do you think you can learn how to kiss ass this time?” I asked. “No,” you said unflinchingly.

You were at the height of your career, and realized the game was no longer played by performance but by politics. You were not willing to play that game. We both agreed we were done with foreign service.

The party was over.

That morning, you filed for a six-month leave without pay. Where were we to go? How could our family survive? These questions haunted our waking hours and our sleepless nights.

Manila approved your leave. We packed our things. Pulled our boys from school and settled temporarily with our kindhearted friends, Marilou and Ernie, at their place in Orange County. It was a very quiet time for us, and provided much time for soul searching. Our family huddled together.

I felt the pain you tried to hide. But our faith was strong and Psalm 34:5 became my beacon of light: “Those who look to Him are radiant; their faces are never covered with shame.” I had to stay strong and be the sunshine of our family during our darkest hour.

Before the end of your 6-month leave, a LA law office contacted you. They offered you a job at their new San Diego branch and processed our papers immediately. You filed your resignation on Independence Day, June 12, 2002. 

A new dawn began.

We lived in a two-bedroom condo near a lake. I loved it. It provided an intimate space for our family. The boys continued with their schooling. Our new and old friends in San Diego welcomed us. There I met my now best friend, Yolly Rosario, a successful businesswoman. Through her, I learned what the real business world looked like. 

Our first mainstream San Diego involvement was with the Immigration Museum now called the New Americans Museum. With the Fil-Am community, we organized a fundraiser to benefit the Museum. We acquired the sponsorship of Allan Camaisa of the University Club. The event happened atop the Symphony Tower.

Deborah Szekely, founder of the Museum, invited you to be a board member. One of your many contributions was the drafting of its Articles of Incorporation. She also asked me to be one of the Judges for the Annual Family Histories Essay Competition which I did for many years. This experience inspired me to embark on the “Filipinos in America: Stories of Triumph over Trials” Project.

The San Diego Consular Corps welcomed you to their association. I was invited to be a member of the San Diego Citizens Diplomacy Council, the Creative Communities Committee of San Diego and the Youth Symphony Orchestra Committee.

As U.P. graduates, we joined the U.P. Alumni Association, San Diego Chapter. I was tasked to coordinate the “Fabulous 50’s Party” and the online “Profiles in Excellence” project. We also got involved with Gawad Kalinga-San Diego. On my 50th birthday, I celebrated with a party of 50 guests in Little Italy that raised funds for five Gawad Kalinga houses for the homeless in my hometown. I also enjoyed being part of the Kalusugan Center’s healthy eating project.

I organized numerous events that showcased our culture, some of which raised funds for the Philippines. Through Dr. Benjamin Camacho’s sponsorship, I was able to invite a busload of LA Consular Ladies to my “Pretty as Springtime” Filipiniana fashion show and high tea party at Westgate Hotel. I had a similar event at the same elegant venue. “In Full Bloom” was a hats and tea party cum Filipiniana fashion show with opera singers.

After that, I was hired to launch a business at Robincroft Castle in Pasadena. I designed a beautiful Victorian garden tea party, “Romance in Autumn,” attended by the who’s who in LA. Among other fundraisers that I coordinated were “Best for Least” for Tony Olaes of  Gawad Kalinga in San Diego and “Children of Mother Earth” for Smokey Mountain, Tondo, held in Santa Monica.

San Diego became a haven of comfort, a place we called home, a sanctuary where we found our God of grace, of forgiveness, of peace, and of love.

Our twenty-year foreign service was a time of “glittering romance and optimism,” our Camelot. We lavished it with dreams, visions, and hard work. It provided us many opportunities to give the best of ourselves for our country and people, and for fulfillment beyond self.

The beautiful memories and friendships remain and the challenges that kept us engaged continue to enliven. We treasure them in our hearts, like a bountiful feast, enough for us to savor for a lifetime, enough to keep in our spirits what Camus realized - “in the midst of winter, I found there was, within me, an invincible summer.”

  

As the song goes, “The party’s over. It’s time to call it a day. They’ve burst your pretty balloon and taken the moon away.”

  

The party was over, but my God, what a party it had been!

STORY PHOTOS

"You, Edwin Bael, and me. We were meant to be..."

"She married a career diplomat and with their two sons,

 they pitched tents in the four continents of the world..."

"The party has begun..."

First Posting in LA

Second Posting in L.A.

Events at our Official Residence in Beverly Hills, Ca

More events at our Official Residence in Beverly Hills, Ca

As Chair of  Kalayaan Celebrations '01

"Kalayaan Ball", Los Angeles

As  Co-Chair of the Premier Show of "Flower Drum Song Revival", Los Angeles, Ca

THE PARTY'S OVER

As Event Organizer:  "Best for Least", Gawad Kalinga, San Diego, Ca

As Event Organizer:  "Romance of Autumn", Pasadena, Ca

"The party was over, but my God, what a party it had been!

click below:

Betty Bael's Community Event Site