REQUIEM FOR AN AMERICAN DREAMBy Stephanie Dychiu
At the turn of the 20th century, the Spanish-American war ended with Spain ceding the Philippines to America under the Treaty of Paris. US cavalry men set up their headquarters near the Angeles train station in Pampanga, then found themselves “saddled” with an unusual problem—their horses were allergic to Philippine grass and kept getting sick.
Soldiers' sanctuary
Hay had to be imported from overseas to feed the fragile steeds, until one day, the animals were found happily grazing on a fertile patch in a small village. The soldiers relocated their military reservation to the area where the sweet grass grew, naming it Fort Stotsenburg. Years later, Fort Stotsenburg grew into Clark Air Base, the largest American installation outside the US mainland, covering an area almost the size of Singapore.
Change eruptsLife was busy defending God and country, but pleasant enough at the base, until relations began to sour between the Philippines and the United States following the ouster of President Ferdinand Marcos in 1986. As the expiration of the 90-year lease on Clark drew near, the Americans spent long months wrangling with the Philippine Senate for an extension.
Then, nature abruptly put an end to the kerfuffle by unleashing the second largest volcanic eruption of the 20th century. Mount Pinatubo woke up after six centuries of slumber, blanketing a massive area of Luzon in ash.
It was June 1991, three months before the expiration of the lease, and Clark was in ruins. The Americans did the sensible thing—they packed up what they could, lowered their flag, and left a pile of soot the size of Singapore behind.
Buried in the debris was the beautiful 200-hectare leisure estate, its golf course, country club, and newly constructed bungalows.
Under these inglorious circumstances, the Mimosa Leisure Estate was born.
Elusive prize
The mimosa plant (makahiya) is a shy, sensitive plant, closing up its leaves at the slightest touch, then opening up again when it thinks the intruder is gone.
The same might be said of the Mimosa Leisure Estate. Protracted ownership struggles have seen it opening and closing its doors to private investors for the last ten years. It is the prize everyone wants, but no one can hang on to for long. The man who dug it piece by piece out of the ashes of Pinatubo and turned it into a tourist destination was booted out by the government in 1999, after being accused of not paying rentals. Since then, several attempts to award Mimosa to other private investors have not worked out for some reason or another. As of this writing, Mimosa remains in government hands, getting ready for yet another attempt at privatization.
The turmoil has, of course, had implications on service and upkeep.
Fading glory
Ten years without private capital means no major new facilities have been added apart from the original golf course, casino, and conference rooms. The pool is still more family-size than country-club-grade. Service is often lean, and Mimosa’s trademark Montevista Villas are a bit trapped in a Nineties time warp.
Not that the place is not good enough. It is good enough. Staff faithfully keep the lawns and gardens watered and manicured, making long walks around the estate a genuine pleasure. The Mediterranean-style Montevista bungalows that were originally designed for the American air force officers are still sunny, clean, and satisfyingly roomy, if a little worn. Large kitchens and master baths, ample space between villas for privacy, competitive pricing, and an unrivaled location within the historic grounds of Mimosa still give Montevista an edge over other lodgings in Clark.
But good enough, for Mimosa, is not good enough.
For a property with such an illustrious past, a place that holds so many memories of American and Philippine history, a symbol of a people’s rise from the ashes of Pinatubo and a century of co-dependence . . . room service breakfast should not be served in a styrofoam box.
Upgrades take private capital, however, and that is something Mimosa has chronically fallen short of.
But maybe not for long.
Hello, Korea
When budget international flights started landing at Clark’s Diosdado Macapagal Airport, the former American enclave turned Korean.
The largest structure with the most visible sign along Acacia Road is “Koreatown”, spelled in English with a Hanggul translation written on a tarp near it. Outside the building, half a dozen large black eel swim in a half-filled aquarium, while a lone lovebird chirps in a cage above the tank.
Inside, Koreatown is divided into a Korean restaurant, a 24-hour Korean convenience store, cubicles for foot and body massage, and a travel agency that arranges golf tours—all the essentials of Korean life, under one roof. Stickers of the Korean Community in Central Luzon Association—yes, there is such a group—are all over the walls.
The Filipina behind the reception counter assumes I’m Korean and greets me in Hanggul. I wander into the restaurant, and the same thing happens with the Pinay waitress who approaches. Three rumpled Korean teenagers in shorts and slippers are having a late breakfast on one table. They look right at home. I am the outsider.
I ask the waitress what the most popular dish is at the restaurant. “Samgyupsal (a kind of grilled pork), P300.” What about the eel? “Sutbul (barbecued) eel, P1,800 for one kilo.” A kilo is equal to about three eel, and orders need to be made an hour ahead because the eel are barbecued fresh out of the tank, never frozen. That is the way the Koreans like it, and that is the way it has to be.
It is too early in the day to eat a kilo of eel, so I move to the Montevista Café across the road. One of the staff sits with me while I eat, and we start talking about—what else—the Koreans. She tells me many of them study at the Holy Angels University and Angeles University Foundation. They don’t just study English, they take up real degrees, like Hotel and Restaurant Management. Many of the Korean golfers playing on the green already live in Clark full-time with their families. And she says it’s great. “I’m happy that Clark is now known more for tourism than prostitution.”
After America
Before 1991, only Americans and authorized Filipino employees were allowed to enter Clark Air Base. The day when the Clark Golf Club’s green would be bustling with Koreans, Japanese, Chinese and their multilingual Filipino caddies was unimaginable back then. But today, 2,000 of the members of the Mimosa Golf Club are Korean, and the best-selling dish at the club’s Veranda restaurant is Sae Gogi—Korean-style beef medallion in chili sauce, served with kimchi and rice. (Delicious.)
“When the Americans left, people thought there would be no more jobs,” says one of the top officials of the club, who lived in Clark in the 1960s-1970s. “But now, there are ten times more jobs.”Tourism is definitely picking up, and many groups are lining up to cash in on Clark’s future. But looking at the scorched World War II propeller at the entrance of the Clark Museum just outside Mimosa, the glory of the past is also not easily forgotten.
Inside the museum, photos of the people who lived, played golf, and held parties at what was then called the Clark Golf Club line the walls, along with the things that they used to fight wars, build schools, airlift ousted Presidents to Hawaii, and sign decrees that altered the course of history.
Across Mimosa, the original posts of Fort Stotsenburg still mark the sprawling parade grounds where US troops held drills and polo matches, on the very same pasture where their horses munched on Philippine grass and miraculously did not fall ill.
Standing out there where tourists now go to jog or to quietly read books, watching the Philippine flag flap in the wind where the American flag used to fly, one can’t help but hope that when Mimosa once again goes through another round of bidding, it will find an owner who will see more than just villas, golf course, casino, and tourists. The torch of remembrance is still burning, and needs someone truly worthy to carry it.Montevista Villas is located at Academy Lane, Mimosa Leisure Estates, Clark Freeport, Pampanga, Philippines (Metro Manila Phone: +63 2 584-4047, 584-4007, 299-5800; Clark Phone: +63 45 599-7000; Web: www.mimosaresort.com).
(This story was written in February 2009. Vintage photos are from the Annotated Pictorial History of Clark Air Base 1899-1986 by David L. Rosmer.)
