"Woven Dreams" is a story about Conching, a local woman whose life is about to change. Although she is a figment of imagination, the sustainable livelihood featured in the story is very much real and is still helping a lot of mothers in El Nido, Palawan. ​ This is one of the short stories I prepared for the resort chain I worked at before. It is part of the turn-down service and is placed in guest rooms that can be read at night time. https://kasesguerra.wixsite.com/kpluswriter/portfolio

1. Sweaty and trembling, her palms against each other as if offering a prayer to her God, her lips,
dry from the weather, continuously moving in a chant, she looked like she was asking fervently
for a miracle. But her prayers were not of change and thanksgiving.
“Seventy-five…seventy-five…seventy-five,” she kept on muttering.
“You’re one number short, Conching!” Marivic exclaimed.
Marivic was right, of course she was. She was one number short, one box away from getting her
hands on the jackpot prize.
Black-out: that was the pattern they had agreed to form for the last round. Conching’s card was
already teeming with pebbles, coins and tamarind seeds—stuff she used as markers for
numbers the shaker had already drawn.
The shaking stopped and the unique sound produced by the numbers colliding inside the rattan
container faded. The shaker drew a number from the container, a smile formed in her face and
she began to read the letter.
“For the letter O….”
Conching closed her eyes. She needed only one number. Five pesos for each card; there were
twelve of them at the table. Sixty pesos at the minimum since some people got more than one
card. She could already imagine the sumptuous meal her family was going to have for dinner.
“Seventy…,” Lorena stammered.
Her breathing began to slow down. The sound of the children laughing, birds chirping and
leaves rustling—they were all gone now. Every apparent noise surrounding her was muted. All
she could hear was the resonant beating of her heart and the distinct call of Lorena.
“Seventy-four!”
“BINGO!!!” a loud shriek came from across the table. The sound did not come from Conching; the
shout of triumph failed to escape her mouth and she just gulped. She cussed and cursed, staring
at the lone box without a marker in her card: O, 75. Thoughts of a feast of pansit and tinola for
tonight’s dinner vanished.
Tessa read the numbers in her card while Lorena checked if the numbers were indeed already
drawn.
“Complete!” uttered Lorena. “Congrats, Tessa!” she added.
WOVEN DREAMS
Kristine A. Soriano-Esguerra

2. Tessa immediately stood up and grabbed the jackpot prize. “Thanks, girls! Let’s do this again
tomorrow!”
One by one, the women stood up and left the table. Conching remained perched in her seat.
“Seventy-five.” The thought wouldn’t leave her. She sighed, then finally stood up, gathered the
peelings of tamarind and camachile that they’d been munching all afternoon, and called for her
children.
“Boy, Lenna, Guido!” Conching grabbed the children’s attention.
“Let’s head home!”
The excited children shook off the dust that had accumulated in their clothes and all headed for
the uneven path that led home. Conching was deep in thought, trying to figure out how the
portion of rice left would suffice for five hungry stomachs. She was secretly hoping that her
husband had better luck in catching fish and that the eggplants in their backyard could already
be harvested and served for dinner.
This was the normal scenery at Baryo Villa Paz. The women would wake up early, prepare for
breakfast, give the children a bath, cook lunch, wash the dishes and make sure the house was
clean. At one-thirty in the afternoon, the homemakers gathered around the bamboo table
beneath the acacia tree, bringing with them some small change and a handful of markers they
asked their children to pick up along the way.
Sometimes, instead of playing bingo, they would play card games such as tong-its and pusoy to
kill time after gossiping. Later, it became part of their daily routine and what used to be a game-
of-fun became a shot-at-luck, a chance to take home a wad of cash to buy dinner with.
“Tomorrow might be my lucky day,” sighed Conching as she stared at the starry sky outside.
After a few minutes of contemplation, she felt the need to sleep so she crawled into bed, closed
her eyes and allowed herself to succumb to the darkness.
She was awakened by the loud call of the neighbor’s rooster. It was still a bit dark when she
opened her eyes; dawn had not yet broken. Conching felt the breeze against her skin and
thought it felt different. She eagerly prepared breakfast, watered the plants and cleaned the
backyard. She breathed in the sweet breeze and continued with her household chores.
Things did not go as expected; luck was not on her side. The promises of a wonderful day were
slowly fading and again, she failed to take home the prize.
Days and weeks passed. Some days, she was fortunate, some she was not. One afternoon,
while the women of Villa Paz were busy with their little circle, strangers approached their table.
Kristine A. Soriano-Esguerra

3. “Hi, good afternoon. My name is Anita,” started the woman from town.
She told them about their association’s new program: a way to make bags from buri leaves. At
first, the homemakers’ attentions were divided, but after a while, they started to listen and
interrupt Anita to ask questions about the program.
“This is a great project. Buri bag weaving could be done during your idle time. We could teach
and train you how to weave and the products could be sold so you have additional income.”
In one corner of the table, Conching was listening earnestly. She knew that this was the jackpot
that did not depend on sheer luck. A smile began to form on her lips. She could already picture
the sumptuous dinners they were going to share as a family.
_______
*The buri bags and slippers provided in your rooms were woven by the women of El Nido. These
room inclusions support X number of women and families.
Kristine A. Soriano-Esguerra