To share the story of Santa Marian Kamalen is to tell of the life of +Mariquita Torres Souder or Mama Tita, as she was more affectionately known. Mariquita served as Kamarera, the official caretaker of Santa Marian Kamalen, for 75 years until her death in 2003. The following are excerpts from an interview by Ro Underwood, which appeared in two issues of TV Guam during the time that the statue of Santa Marian Kamalen was last stolen from the Agana Cathedral.
Tita Souder can’t remember a time when her family wasn’t involved with the statue of Santa Maria’n Camarin. As teenagers, Tita and her sister, Chong were members of the Sodality of Mary. They were privileged to have been able to help their father, Jose Martinez Torres, care for the statue. When Chong got married in 1928, she handed Tita her responsibilities for the care of the statue. This began a lifetime of mutual care between the statue and Tita.
Up until World War II, Tita had only to worry about preparing the statue for processions and novenas. The real test came two weeks after the war started.
“Father Duenas came to my house and asked my father if we could take the statue to our two-story ranch house in Jalaguac (now known as Maite). Father Duenas told my father that the Japanese had taken over the Cathedral and were using the altar as a stage for hula dancing and suggestive dances. My father offered the use of one of the bedrooms to store the statues and church documents.” She went on to say that they were allowed to place the statue of the Blessed Mother with the throne in the family living room.
“We were watched very carefully by the Japanese soldiers. When they discovered that Fr. Oscar Calvo was saying a daily mass at our house, we were ordered to stop the masses. They were suspect of every small crowd.” She went on to say that a month later, a Japanese bishop and priest came to pick up the statues and church documents. “They were going to store them at a chapel in San Antonio (near where Ada’s Commercial Complex is in Agana).”
“When they got ready to take the statue of Santa Maria’n Camarin, I told them that the statue belonged to us and that it should be left at our house. I made up a story that the church borrowed the statue for novenas and processions. The Bishop looked at Father Duenas and asked him if what I said was true. Fortunately, Father Duenas went along with my white lie and agreed that indeed the statue belonged to our family.” Tita reminded me that she, the priest, and other members of her family would have been killed if the truth were known.
Not long after the Torres family “acquired’ the statue, the Japanese forced the family from their home, which became a hospital for the Japanese.
“We had to move to a smaller ranch in a rugged valley that could only be reached by foot or by cow-driven cart. My brother Jose held on to the statue as a helper drove the cart. After we were settled into the ranch, he went back for the throne.” The throne was hand-carved by Jesus “Bejong” Crisostomo. It was a gift paid for by my father and Pedro Martinez (brother of Ana Martinez Underwood). She went on to say that the family held nightly prayers.
“The Japanese painted their jeeps black so that we couldn’t see them spying on us after dark. Whenever we held our evening prayers, a person stood outside keeping watch.” She recalled that nearby neighbors, B.J. Bordallo’s family, used to attend those nightly prayers.
It wasn’t until the war was coming to an end that the statue and throne were placed in a bokongco, or basement-like room. “There was no way that we could carry her on that march to Manengon. We had to trust that she would be safe in that room. We wouldn’t know until after the war when we were living at the Agat Camp that the Americans had bombed the house as they tried to liberate the island.” Tita recalled how her brother, Felix Torres (father of Geraldine Guiterrez), made friends with a Marine officer. “He asked if they (the Marines) could take him to look for the statue. Unfortunately, the officer advised that such a journey was dangerous. Several weeks later, my brother was escorted to the house by some 48 or so Marines. It was then that he discovered that our home was demolished, with the exception of the room where the statue was. Not only did we lose our ranch but we lost all our heirlooms. All the family jewels were stolen but the earrings and necklace on the statue were left untouched.” She added that her family was living in a pup tent when her brother returned with the statue. Several months later after the family returned to a makeshift home, Felix returned for the throne which remained unharmed. The throne can still be seen at the Agana Cathedral.
December 8th, 1945 marked the first island-wide procession. “Lagrimas Untalan and I had this idea to build a carosa (float) using a silver moon in the background. We asked the nurses to get cotton from the hospital so that we could spray bluing on it to make clouds for the candlelight procession. During that time, the temporary church was too small to accommodate the people so it ended at the Kiosko at the Plaza de España. It was then that an old woman got too close to the statue causing it to get burned. Ricardo Bordallo and his cousins Rufo and Elo Calvo took their coats off in order to put the fire out, but the flames were so intense that their jackets turned to ash, buttons and all.” When the fire was finally put out, it was discovered that the statue was unharmed. Not one single strand of human hair caught fire. “Bishop Baumgartener told me to put her hair away since what happened was miraculous. Two years later, he put it with other church relics.” An earlier miracle was when an earthquake destroyed the Cathedral [in 1902] and the statue was totally unharmed.
Since 1945, Mariquita Torres Souder has performed a labor of love caring for the statue and overseeing the creation of the carosa (float) every December 8th celebration.” It takes about a week of intense work to get the carosa together. The original carosa (which is still used) was built by Jesus Torres. These days, Mark Pangelinan donates manpower and material for the carosa. I usually begin the plans for the next year’s procession directly after we’ve dismantled the carosa.” She described how she enjoyed shopping in Chicago for this year’s carosa.
The statue has been taken before. Tita recalled how she felt when Bishop Baumgartner called to tell her that the statue had been stolen. “As soon as I heard the news, I immediately had this empty feeling.” She recalled the day when a Filipino knocked at her door. “Without thinking, I opened the door. The man asked if the bishop was home. I told him that the bishop lived next door.” She walked him over to the bishop’s driveway. She would learn later that the person had called the bishop, ordering him to remove everyone from the home. The man advised that he was returning the statue and that if there was anyone else in the house that he would harm the statue. The thief sealed the conversation by adding that the call was a confession—to be their secret forever.
The statue was stolen the second time by a mentally impaired man. After he returned the statue, he told the bishop that he was walking toward his home when it began to rain. “As he was walking up San Ramon Hill, the statue seemed to make his feet so heavy that he could barely walk. Not knowing what to do, he put her in the nearest cave at the bottom of the hill. After the statue was brought to the church, Monsignor Flores called to ask if I could come to arrange her hair since it had been matted. Unfortunately, she was muddy as well and her arm was broken.” She didn’t have to say that she was elated and sad at the same time.
Tita Souder recalled how sad Bishop Apuron was when he called this time to advise her of the disappearance of the statue. The wonderful and refined aunt teared as she asked, “I’m asking the person or persons who took her to please return her. There will be no questions asked, Please, the people of Guam miss and need her.”
A lifetime of mutual care, the Lady of Camarin and the lady Tita, each caring for the other, is on hold, as others with their own stories pray for her speedy return.
Mama Tita saw the return of Our Lady and continued to care for her until her death on October 12, 2003. It is most fitting that on the anniversary of Mama Tita’s birthday (September 4th), Santa Marian Kamalen will witness and bless the elevation of four Guam sons into the ranks of Monsignori.
However, the story doesn’t end there. Mama Tita’s daughter, Laura, a second generation Kamarera (caretaker), has taken up her mother’s life-long devotion and has made a lifetime commitment to continue her mother’s promesa. We asked Laura to share memories of her mother’s dedication and reflect on the role of Kamarera that she has inherited from her mother.
I don’t have a single memory of my childhood, which does not include Santa Marian Kamalen being central to our family life and celebrations. Our schedule revolved around church activities. Dad, who was very talented at designing, always drew out mom’s ideas for the karosa or church decorations. Whenever we took a family trip, we visited shrines to get inspirations for the karosa. We were always shopping for beautiful fabric and flowers. Mom was relentless.
Since we were children, mom has included us in her battalion of helpers, along with Geri, Auntie Tina, Auntie Titan Steban, my ninan Ama, Auntie Danda, Auntie Lina, and numerous cousins and aunts. For mom, preparing for the annual celebration of the Feast of the Immaculate Conception was tantamount to planning a wedding. All of us who surrounded her would assure her that the karosa would be gorgeous, as it always was. Nonetheless, mom would worry herself to exhaustion. I can still hear her saying, famakilu’ when I would try to distract her with “Mom, don’t worry. Santa Maria is in charge.”
As mom grew older, we became her hands and feet, she was still coordinating everything though. She would sit and give orders. The year before her death, mom was with me in Chicago. She couldn’t make the long journey back to Guam for December 8th. She was already preparing me for delivering on her promise when she would not be around. At age 90 and in her deathbed, she and I discussed how we would use the heavenly garden theme for the karosa that year. Her last words to me were, “I’m tired hija, I want to go home. Let me go. It’s up to you and the others now to take care of Santa Maria. Whatever you do, Loling, don’t ever fail Santa Maria. This is how we show our love to her Son.” No matter where I am on earth, for as long as I am able, I will make my annual pilgrimage home to lead the novena as Techa and prepare the karosa for the December 8th Procession.
So, that awesome honor and responsibility continues. Just as women in the Torres family have done for generation after generation, it is my privilege to make the promise for my lifetime. Many have wondered how the task of caring for Santa Maria rests with the women in my family. It is my understanding that the tradition of Kamarera began when Santa Marian Kamalen was transferred from Malessu’ (Merizo) to Hagåtña in the early 1800’s, it was then that one of my foremothers made the promesa to care for Santa Maria in a very personal and intimate way. Simply put, this is our sacred obligation. It is without question the most enduring of our family heritage traditions.
I loved to listen to mom’s memories. She often recalled the time when she and her family hid Santa Maria and her throne during the Japanese Occupation of Guam during World War II, so that she would not be destroyed or defaced by Imperial Forces. The bombing of the Cathedral and our capitol city of Agana caused total destruction. Had the family not risked life and limb to shelter Santa Marian Kamalen, her throne, and other Church statues and documents, all would have been lost. Mom feigned being crazy, when the soldiers would venture near their family ranch, so that they would fear her and not get near the hiding place where the family kept the statue of Santa Marian Kamalen hidden.
This willingness to do anything and everything that it takes to care for the statue of Santa Marian Kamalen strikes at the heart of being a Kamarera. I will never forget the look in my mother’s eyes the day Santa Maria’s statue was missing from the Cathedral. I saw a sense of loss that I am only now beginning to comprehend. Such profound feelings as these characterize the devotion that our people have to Santa Maria.
Except for the short period of time when she was taken into hiding, Santa Maria Kamalen has stood guard against all forms of disasters that have toppled kingdoms to the ground. Nothing—winds in excess of 250 mph, an earthquake of 8.2 magnitude, thieves, the invasion and bombings of World War II, countless other catastrophes both natural and human caused, and most especially the slack in faithfulness to her Son—nothing has succeeded from deterring her vigilance. This is the unrelenting and indestructible quality of her care as our Protectress.
As I reflect on my role as Kamarera at the beginning of this new century, I smile at the thought that all Queens have ladies-in-waiting; Santa Maria is no exception. The traditional role of Kamarera, which I have inherited from my mother, has been passed down through the centuries by women in my family for as long as can be remembered. Our enduring legacy of love is as alive today as it has been in the generations of our foremothers. Along with my sisters, cousins, nieces, aunts, and other devotees who lovingly care for Santa Marian Kamalen in a myriad of ways, we are humbled and honored to serve Our Lord’s Mother in this way. We are sure that the world will come to know and love her through her presence in the National Shrine, as we, the people of Guam and the Northern Marianas, have been blessed and privileged to know and love her. Biba! Santa Marian Kamalen, Biba!
Contributors to the composition of this write-up are: Most Reverend Anthony Sablan Apuron, Very Rev. James L.G. Benavente, Rev. Fr. Thomas J. McGrath, Rev. Fr. Eric Forbes, Rev. Fr. Anthony Perez, Dr. Laura Souder, John Joseph Rivera, Gerald and Frances U. Taitano, Jon Junior Calvo, and Abigail Casimbon.