Yehey! I am once again invited to a symposium at the United Nations in honor of Rafael Salas.

My mother’s youngest sister, Carmelita is married to Rafael Montinola Salas. He was the Executive Secretary of the Philippines during the Marcos regime. When Tito Paeng, as we fondly call him, knew that Marcos was going to declare Martial Law, he fled the country along with his new bride, Tita Carmen.

Because Tito Paeng was brilliant and very knowledgeable, he was able to organize the U.N Fund for Population. This entity aids to promote the rights of every woman, man and child to enjoy a life of health and equal opportunity. He was the pioneer and first Executive Director for UNFPA.

Every year, at the U.N., Tito Paeng is honored as the brainchild of such a dream and it has been a great help indeed to millions all over the world.

Learning that we had recently moved to New Jersey, Tita Carmen did not hesitate to send us an invitation to grace such an event.

Taking half a day off from work, I immediately hurried home for a change of clothes. Donning a black pair of pants with matching top and gold belt for accent, with boots for that New Yorker look, I scurried to the train station just in time to catch the 3 o’clock transit for an hour’s train ride to new York city.

Arriving New York Penn Station at the onslaught of rush hour is not a fun sight. Literally! People were on a stampede rushing to catch their trains. You would think you were in a football game tackling your way through the meter dash. By the time we got out of the Penn, it was starting to rain.

We had decided to take the bus earlier, but with the traffic caused by the rain, we would surely be late. So hailing a cab (a first time for me in New York) was our best bet in reaching the U.N.

After the security checks, bags open and hands capping on the sides, we were hailed to proceed to such and such corridor where the reception committee for the event was situated. The reception committee took our invitations and exchanged it for badges that would grant entrance to the affair. Since there was already a group that converged when we arrived at the desk, an escort brought us all together to a set of elevators that would lead us to the main hall.

The familiar hall, which I only see on t.v. was now a reality. Where once I would see heads of nations debate on global matters, negotiating on the affairs and futures of countries, I am now witness to such a place of action. Our escort informed us that we could sit anywhere we like except the oval center table which was reserved for the heads of states or the ambassadors. Above the center table and on stage sat the guest of honor, guest speaker and the present UNFPA director, together with my Tita Carmen.

The guest speaker, whose name now slips my mind, is a writer for the New York times and travels extensively all over the world. He spoke about the plight of women in terms of human trafficking and the increase in their health issues. Moreover, he talked about the rise of homeless children due to the effects of the wars . Over all, it was an experience.

Right after the symposium, we were directed to another Hall where they served cocktails and a time to mingle with the dignitaries. My escort husband left my side after doing his obligation of handing me my drink and in due time was off engaging in conversation.

As often, my interest would lead me to the buffet table located near the end of the room. Actually, what magnetized me was the floor to ceiling glass overlooking the river. The lights on the buildings against a lighted bridge just looked overwhelmingly beautiful.

I was enjoying alone with myself when I overheard a man beside me engaging in conversation to a lady from Africa. She was garbed in a printed mumu with matching print wrapped around her head. He casually asked her, “what do you think of the plight of women in the Sudanese area?.”
I almost got panicky and said to myself, ”boy if someone ever converses with me, “I KNOW NOTHING, KID” but then again, I do know something. I surfed through my mind and recalled ,Eve Ensler’s play “Vagina Monologue”. Thank God they presented that ages ago in Cebu and Fabregas was my favorite actress then. So, my confidence came back…just in case…

However, no one had any courage to talk shop with me. At that point, my drink was down to 2 drops and no husband in sight. So I donned my 4 ounce of wine courage and headed to the bar.
One fellow, in his thirties, was looking at me hold my wine glass to the bartender. He gave me a wink as the bartender replaced my wineglass for a new one. Suddenly, I felt like a girl out from high school but then again thought to myself, “is this how you get picked up? Do I look like a Mrs.Robinson? The guy is old enough to be my son!….but then again, does he know I’m 50? Hmmmm?’

Smiling with a full glass out of that scenario, I immediately looked for my husband. Seeing him standing beside the buffet table, He was stretching his neck out as if looking for someone. Sooner than he could say anything, I asked him, “do you think I look 50?”
“why?” he asked.
“just tell me.” I quipped.
“No! you look 30ish.” he said. This man is indeed my husband.
“well! Someone just hit on me! “

The best part for me was waiters handing out hors’d’ oeuvres. I stationed myself conspicuously enough that when the servers and waiters would come out with sets of fresh hors’d’oeuvres, I was waiting. There was baby lamb chops with mint sauce. Soft and juicy. Then a single potato chip with a dolop of dill dip, crab cakes, spring rolls, brushectta on toast, satay on ornamental sticks with peanut sauce, strip of steak on pix, puff pastry tart, dips on artichoke leaf, and some other canapés.

The evening went on beautifull, until finally, I was able to get hold of my auntie. She was tired but happy after meeting all the dignitaries. While we were together, she never failed to introduce us to whoever came near her. To me, Tita Carmen is the epitome of finesse and dignified grace. She had her own entourage of photographers and assistants . After all not only is she the wife of Tito Paeng, she is presently also the ambassador of the Philppines to the Czech Republic in Prague. After several pictures and last minute hook-ups, we had to bid each other good bye.

Stepping outside of the U.N. bulding, the rains kept pouring. Mike and I were debating either to take a cab or walk several blocks to the Penn station. As I was light headed (almost drunk really, from all that wine and hors’d’oeuvres) I wanted to walk.

It was a great 30 minute walk for me,with rain on my face and holding hands with my love one. But not so much for Mike. Since he was wearing his $150 dollar shoe, he kept on swearing and looking down, afraid of stepping on a puddle lest he ruin his shoes. Kinda reminds me of a sanitized aunt who goes to a Sinulog procession. She is often seen head down, not so much in reverence of the patron saint, but is afraid to step on spit with her shoes.

By the time we arrived Penn Station, I was sober and happy, Mike’s shoes were wet and he was miserable. However, on the train back to New Jersey, we both agreed that we had a great time and look forward to the next invite.

Thanks ,Tita Carms. See you in a couple of days!