The Jolly Spaniard of Cebu
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Seated l-r: Chinggay Utzurrum, Terry Manguerra, Inday Blanco; Standing l-r: Cecilia Brainard, Jaime Picornell, Chona Bernad.
Jaime became close to our family in the mid-1960s. He became a good friend of my brother and his wife. When my sister Ana and cousin Chickie returned from their post-graduate studies in Spain, Jaime became close to them. He also became a friend of my mother. So, it happened that when I was in Cebu for my school holidays (I attended college in Manila), I got to know Jaime better.
He used to come around for merienda or dinner, and while we sat around the table, my mother would say, “Jaime-Jaime, tell us about …” And Jaime would start telling stories about the personalities of Cebu, sending us into hysterical laughter at his animated lively stories. Jaime was a great storyteller; he knew how to zero on in people’s quirks and turn them into funny anecdotes. We laughed but knew we had our own peculiarities and that we were all part of the fabric of Cebu.
My sister, cousin, a friend Paching, and Jaime used to organize parties with sangria and Spanish food and live bands or classical guitar-playing. There were also beach parties. And there Jaime was, like a big brother, making sure we were safe – safe from the deep water and from boys whom he considered predatory.
We would call Jaime to have tertulias (salons) with us, or to go out, or to cry on his shoulder. When he was glum though, he didn’t cry on our shoulders, but preferred talking to my brother. There they sat out on the terrace or in the living room, sipping brandy while talking for hours.
But Jaime was rarely somber. He was too busy; he was in fact hardworking. He wrote two columns and did freelance writing. He worked for the Corominas Richards Shipping and later with the Swedish firm Metalock. In the evenings, he taught English and Spanish at the University of the Visayas. And on the side, he also sold jewelry to people he knew.
“In fact, Jaime was a kind of historian for Cebu; he could trace people’s genealogies, or give any information about the city.”
He was passionate about writing, which he described as “sharing information, doing coverages and giving vent to creativity.” His early writings were typical society articles about weddings or parties; but his pieces became meatier when he started writing about Cebuano history, culture, and people. In fact, Jaime was a kind of historian for Cebu; he could trace people’s genealogies, or give any information about the city.
He also wrote personal essays and poetry. A poem about his falling in love starts: “As the song goes, when you’re in love, there’s nothing you can do about it. Everything seems beautiful and easy. At least that’s how it seemed to Cecilia and me throughout the month of November 1983.”
Jaime had been visiting relatives in Zaragoza when he met his second cousin, Cecilia Rodriguez. After a whirlwind courtship, they got married. The next thing we knew Cecilia was in Cebu.
Cecilia, a kind and warm person, did not speak a word of Cebuano. I don’t believe she ever spoke Cebuano until the day she died in 2015. It was their household who learned Spanish. I believe Cecilia would have preferred a quiet life, but Jaime became Honorary Consul of Spain and was awarded by the King of Spain the Knighthood in the Order of Isabel la Catolica; and his social obligations multiplied.
Cecilia was game. She attended those events with graciousness. Because of the language issue, there was always a flurry as to who would sit beside her. My mother, who spoke fluent Spanish, usually got that spot. They would prattle on about the peaches and wines of Spain. Later on, when Jaime and Cecilia had their two sons, Jaime and Luis, the women would talk about the antics of (per Cecilia) “Yimmy and Louie.” We henceforth called the boys the “Yimmies.” The Yimmies were always up to something, like drinking champagne at a wedding celebration or running around shouting foul Cebuano words that they had picked up from the servants.
Jaime loved his family and friends; he loved Cebu; and he loved fine things, which was probably the reason he sold jewelry. It always felt like Christmas when he showed us his cases of rings, earrings, and pendants. We would try them on, oohing and aahing over this or that. He always gave us his honest opinions: Don’t buy that, look at this one. I still have some pieces I acquired from him which I treasure as good buys.
Sometime after my brother died of a heart attack at the age of 53, I showed Jaime a large Smoky Quartz stone that my brother had given me. Jaime understood I valued it for sentimental reasons. “I’ll take care of it,” he said, and he went on and designed a beautiful gold pendant which I treasure to this day.
The last time I saw Jaime was in February 2020 at the Casino Español. By this time, Jaime had slowed down. He had Parkinson’s disease and needed a cane. He remained witty but was no longer animated; he was more subdued. Because of the sudden deaths of Chinese nationals from Wuhan in the Philippines, he and I had some idea that a sickness was circulating. But we didn’t really comprehend how Covid would bring the world to its knees. We still believed I would return to Cebu the next year and we would see each other again.
That was not to be. On August 7, Jaime Picornell was hospitalized for Covid. A friend said Jaime had had one vaccine dose and they were hopeful. Later on, I heard he was responding well to medication. But on August 16, the doctors decided to intubate him. Before that happened, however, Jaime Picornell had cardiac arrest and died.
Just like that, Cebu lost a favorite son. All those who loved him lost a friend, a father, a grandfather. We mourn his loss but find comfort in the memories he left us.
Go and rest in peace, Jaime.
Cecilia Manguerra Brainard’s recent books are: SELECTED SHORT STORIES BY CECILIA MANGUERRA BRINARD (University of Santo Tomas Publishing House & PALH 2021); and the US edition of her novel THE NEWSPAPER WIDOW (PALH 2021).
Her official website is ceciliabrainard.com.
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