Last March 6-10, the Heritage Conservation Society (HCS) hosted a cultural heritage tour for members of The Siam Society and the Southeast Asian Cultural Heritage Alliance. Over five days, we covered four provinces (Laguna, Rizal, Bulacan, and Pampanga) as well as the city of Manila.
As I was reading over the tour’s itinerary a few days before, what I was most excited for was seeing a demo on the making of traditional pastillas wrappers called borlas de pastillas. These wrappers are hand-cut from bright papel de japon, their tassels intricate and ornate. The practice of making them is called pabalat.
The reason behind my excitement was because I was finally going to see in-person something I had only read about. Specifically, in food writer Doreen Fernandez’ book Tikim. In her essay titled “She Cuts Pastillas Wrappers”, she describes the borlas de pastillas:
The pastillas wrappers of San Miguel, Bulacan, are an example of ephemeral, evanescent art, not meant to last, but to be enjoyed for the short moment of its existence. They are created by a folk mind that thinks: Why offer the fiesta pastillas in a plain white wrapper, the way they are packaged in boxes? Why not cover them in color, in ornamentation, in beauty? Why not enjoy that fleeting moment at a fiesta, within the gaiety, but before the actual savoring of the sweet? Why not make one moment beautiful? Isn't it worth the trouble?
Later on in the article, Fernandez mentioned how there were only few practitioners of pabalat left by the time of writing. Bear in mind that the book was published in 1994 - it’s older than I am! I was so relieved that the art was still alive, in our demo given by Naty Ocampo-Castro of Ocampo’s Specialty Products.
When the tour group came to her table set up in Malolos’ Casa Real, she had just finished sketching a design with pencil on a piece of papel de japon - an image of Maria Clara surrounded by leaves. As she entertained the group, explaining how she had learned it from her mother Luz Ocampo, she was also cutting the papel de japon with a small pair of scissors. How henyo was this woman, able to cut accurately while also looking up to talk to us! In less than ten minutes, she showed us her finished work. Expertly-cut.
I was able to speak with Ma’am Naty for a bit. I told her about how excited I was to see pabalat in-person, and how I had just read about it. She told me that she wanted to carry on her late mother’s beloved hobby. “Love na love kasi niya, kaya gusto ko ipatuloy.” Honoring family and honoring culture was one and the same for Ma’am Naty.
As most things do, the demo ended and we had to leave for the next stop on the tour. The pastillas we were given were, of course, delicious. I ate mine on the bus rather than right away, opening it gingerly and quickly tucking the wrapper into a small plastic envelope I always carry with me. I made sure it would not be wrinkled or torn.
I still carry that memory inside me. What beauty in ephemerality; you savor a moment more deeply when you know it will go away. Ephemerality also implies abundance - not in the sense of wastefulness, but in knowing that there is no need to cling to things so tightly because there is plenty more to go around. I remember seeing a post that went: “Nothing lasts forever, but everything can be renewed.”
The borlas de pastillas are an excellent representation of one of our Filipino sensibilities: panache! We like things big, bongga, all-out. Extravagant, or as film director Ishmael Bernal put it: Strombotika! We love to celebrate, both in the big and the small. These wrappers not only add to the color of the fiesta, but also to our lives.