Remembering the original OA, Sylvia La Torre

Remembering the original OA, Sylvia La Torre | Daily Tribune

Oh, I remember her well.

At a time when I had reached the proverbial point of no return, when the excruciating pain in my spine became a thunderous command to finally go under the knife, I found myself following doctors’ orders. Surgery then — procedure now, as it happened so long ago — was inevitable. This was after multiple failed attempts with tractions and alternative physical remedies, and despite a dozen calls that circled the same advice: “Don’t operate on a young man.”

I was on assignment in Los Angeles when the decision came. Despite the availability of best-trained doctors and the latest medical equipment, when it comes to choice, nothing compares to being home. So I booked the next flight to the Philippines. No hesitation. I simply wanted to be surrounded by family, loved ones, and Filipino surgeons and support staff, who knew exactly how to care in that uniquely Filipino way.

Being true-blooded Cebuanos, we didn’t even have a home in Manila then. We checked into the old Sheraton Century Park Hotel on Vito Cruz, where they offered serviced residences for long-staying guests. It was there that the tedious and painful rehab began, learning to move and walk again. Laps at the pool was part of therapy. And always watched over by two full-fledged nurses — plus a day-off reliever — who each had their distinct style of tender love and care. One more clinical, the other more maternal, but both overflowing with a shared sincerity — genuine, heartfelt and truly Filipino.

But the afternoons were sacred. When Oras ng Ligaya invaded the television set, all else stopped. They idolized this show! No meals. No baths. No exercises. No interruptions. That was when I first met her.

Sylvia La Torre, the Sylvia La Torre. The first OA (over-acting), in the best way possible. She answered even mundane questions with the flourish of a diva. With an operatic rise in tone, her eyes were always aflutter, complete with hand gestures slicing the wind. Her skits brought the house down. We lost touch after rehabilitation, but her impression remained imprinted.

Fast-forward to a casual get-together at a gallery with Mita Rufino, Araceli Salas, and yours truly from the Filipino Heritage Festival Inc., and the Cultural Center of the Philippines’ Dennis Marasigan and soprano Rachelle Gerodias, when we wanted to honor the late Sylvia La Torre. The idea came naturally. It wasn’t hard to convince each other.