A "Ber" Month to Remember

The voice that has accompanied so many Filipino Christmases had just explained why a husband bought his wife a diamond ring instead of the car she wanted: He could not find a fake BMW.

That was part of the pleasure of welcoming Jose Mari Chan to the Rotary Club of Manila last October 29: discovering how comfortably the beloved balladeer could slip into the role of mischievous storyteller. I had anticipated the songs. What delighted me was the humor between them, and the ease with which he made our 16th Weekly Membership Meeting feel like an afternoon among friends.

We know what happens when his voice enters a room. Someone remembers a first love, a family gathering, or a Christmas when the children were still small. His music has become so thoroughly woven into Filipino life that meeting him carries an unusual familiarity. Yet familiarity can also narrow our expectations. Behind the affectionate "Mr. Christmas" moniker was a man whose wit, gratitude, and willingness to laugh at himself gave us much more to enjoy than nostalgia alone.

Before he took the microphone, our gathering observed the traditions that make an RCM meeting distinctly our own. Director Carlos "Caloy" Serapio guided the afternoon as moderator. Following my call to order, Director Nico-Zyrene Valencia led the invocation, while the Philippine National Anthem and the RCM World-Famous Music Chorale's rendition of our club hymn placed fellowship within the larger purpose of service.

Past Director Warren So led The Four Way Test, and Past Deputy Sergeant-at-Arms Bollie Bolton introduced our visiting Rotarians and guests, whom the chorale welcomed in song.

Our fellowship also reached beyond Philippine shores. I had the pleasure of exchanging Rotary club banners with visiting Rotarian Past President Dr. Avanti Karunaratna of the Rotary Club of Kandy, RI District 3220, Sri Lanka. Holding our respective banners together, I was reminded of how readily Rotary offers a sense of belonging far from home. Each banner carries the identity of a club and the community it serves; exchanged between friends, it becomes a memento of a connection that geography need not limit. I was grateful to welcome Dr. Karunaratna into our gathering and to receive this expression of friendship from our fellow Rotarians in Kandy.

There were birthdays to celebrate, too. Director Michael Jaey Albaña and Director Delfin Lorenzana received our greetings, accompanied by the chorale's "Maligayang Bati" and "Happy Birthday." Those familiar songs provided a fitting beginning to an afternoon that would remind us how naturally music gathers people together.

For me, the meeting also held the satisfaction of a new beginning. We welcomed STAR Rotarian Henry Kho, President of Omni Petroleum Corporation. Henry became the first new member I inducted this Rotary Year following my own induction as President, a milestone I hope will be followed by many more.

As his proposer, I felt both pride and responsibility. Inviting someone into Rotary means asking him to share in work whose value becomes clearer through participation: the friendships that deepen, the needs we learn to recognize, and the service we undertake together. Director Caloy introduced Henry, District Governor Nominee Herminio Hermie Esguerra delivered the charge, and I had the privilege of administering his induction. It was a happy occasion on its own, made more memorable by the company in which he entered our club.

One particularly heartwarming surprise came when our RCM World-Famous Music Chorale offered an impromptu rendition of "Christmas in Our Hearts" for our guest of honor. Having Jose Mari Chan with us made their familiar voices and his beloved melody an especially meaningful combination. I was delighted by the spontaneity of the gesture, a musical welcome from our own Rotarians to the man whose songs have brought so much warmth to Filipino homes.

Past District Governor Vicente J. Carlos then introduced Jose Mari Chan, who have been schoolmates at the Ateneo de Manila University and have since become monthly eating buddies. Our guest dispensed with any sense of distance almost immediately. He had been invited to sing a few songs, he said, and with the Christmas season approaching, he would begin with "A Wish on Christmas Night."

The choice brought a seasonal warmth into our October gathering. Hearing a familiar recording is one pleasure; hearing its creator offer it a few feet away is another. The song arrived with the simplicity of a personal greeting, and its title seemed especially appropriate for a room in which friendship, celebration, and fresh commitments had already found a place.

Afterward, he spoke of music as God's gift to him and of his determination to use it. He had written about love, people, and families, he explained. It was a modest account of a body of work that has accompanied countless lives, but it revealed something essential about him. He understood his talent as something entrusted to his care, with a purpose beyond applause.

His next song carried a story of departure and return. He recalled moving to New York in 1975 and living there for eleven years. During that period, he composed "Tell Me Your Name," which became part of his return to the Philippines in 1986. He described it as a romantic invitation, but its history gave us another way of hearing it: as music carried home by someone returning to the audience that first knew him.

Then the romantic storyteller made room for the comedian.

He defined a successful man as someone who earns more than his wife can spend, then supplied the matching definition of a successful woman: someone who can find such a man. Another joke began with an affectionate observation about his son, who visited a psychiatrist every week and spent the sessions talking about him. The setup sounded like paternal pride until the punchline quietly reversed it.

There was also the anniversary gift that became a diamond ring because a counterfeit BMW proved elusive, and the supposed nightmare in which Bea Alonzo and his wife were fighting over him. The unfortunate part, he explained, was that his wife won.

His delivery was as much a pleasure as the jokes themselves. He seemed perfectly comfortable allowing a sentimental mood to dissolve into mischief, trusting that another song would bring us back. I appreciated that generosity of spirit. Here was a guest with every reason to rely on his reputation, yet he continued to offer us something of himself: a story, a tease, a cheerful admission.

With "Beautiful Girl," he returned us to romance. Before singing, he mentioned that the song had been recorded by artists in Japan, Hong Kong, and the United States. That detail widened the frame of an afternoon otherwise so intimate. The songwriter before us had created melodies that traveled beyond the Philippines, even as his presence felt comfortably familiar to a Manila gathering.

"A Perfect Christmas" followed, bringing romance and the holiday season into the same embrace. By then, I could understand more clearly why his association with Christmas has endured. His music gives the season a human scale, making room for affection, companionship, and the wish to be near the people we love.

Amid the songs, stories, and laughter, these personal encounters gave our gathering its warmth.

He also offered to send copies of his newest Christmas album "Going Home to Christmas" to those who would provide their names and addresses. Of course, everyone crowded around him, stretching out their business cards. It was a gracious gesture, made without fuss, and entirely consistent with the warmth of his visit.

Some of the most revealing moments came when he spoke about the ordinary business of living. At eighty-one, he told us, he brisk-walked for about forty-five minutes each morning for his heart. Athletic talent, however, had passed him by. His father had been an avid golfer, and his younger brother had played basketball, but he readily confessed his own shortcomings in sports.

Remembering his schooldays at St. Clement's Church, La Paz, Iloilo, he described a teammate dribbling the basketball and searching for someone to receive a pass. When the teammate looked toward him, he looked the other way. The image was irresistible: a young Jose Mari Chan avoiding the ball, years before he would command an audience with such assurance. He told it with the ease of someone at peace with both his gifts and his limitations.

For the closing selection, he invited the ladies to join "Christmas in Our Hearts," taking the female part of the song. Lady Monette Guevara, Lady Lia Enriquez, and Lady Joanna Valencia were among those called forward. A performance that had begun with one familiar voice opened into a shared experience, giving our fellowship a place within the music.

Before singing, he wished us a blessed Christmas and a coming year of health, prosperity, and joy in our hearts and homes. Coming after the songs and jokes, the greeting felt personal. We had spent the afternoon with a man who could be tender without becoming solemn and funny without surrendering his gentleness.

As President, I was grateful for what the meeting allowed us to share. Henry Kho began his life as a member of our club on a day filled with welcome. Our banner exchange with Dr. Avanti Karunaratna brought the friendship of Kandy into our Manila fellowship. Our program participants sustained the traditions that give such encounters substance. And Jose Mari Chan reminded us, through his own example, how much pleasure a person can bring by offering his abilities with warmth and good humor.

When I think back on that afternoon, I return to the ladies gathering around him for the final song. The distinguished guest we had introduced was now leading our friends through a melody already familiar to them, making space for their voices beside his own. That is the Jose Mari Chan I am glad we came to know: generous with a song, ready with a joke, and happiest to let the room join in.

A "Ber" month to remember with the gentleman whose music has become part of our lives. Welcoming Jose Mari Chan to the Rotary Club of Manila was a personal joy and a presidential privilege. Behind the beloved "Mr. Christmas" moniker, we discovered a gracious storyteller, a mischievous wit, and an artist who regards his talent as God's gift to share.