Maya Colayco. Photographed by Joseph Pascual
“We wanted to be a group of people who share resources, who would use their various gifts to create fun and meaningful experiences together, and who would be friends with each other.”
Community is what we wanted people to think of with a name like Comuna. In this era of Late Stage Capitalism, I’ve become a bit careful with how the word community has been commodified as an idea to help sell products, places, even people. Don’t mistake me here, Comuna is both an enterprise and a community, but there is another word to capture the heart of what we are. The word is neighbors.
When my husband Joel and I first checked out Comuna’s bare bones, we had no plans to put up a taproom. We finally hit a wall with our almost 4-year-old nano-brewery Palm Tree Abbey. We knew we had to scale to keep the operation going but the path was not clear.
When Maya Colayco, the property owner, showed us around, she was also inviting us to co-create something with her. She told our mutual friend Dan Matutina that she wanted Comuna to serve beer. Dan messaged me out of the blue asking me about the possibility of putting up an actual brick-and-mortar place for our beer. A path for Palm Tree Abbey started revealing itself just when I thought it wasn’t possible anymore.
I wish I could tell you that we were the sort who would do intensive market analyses or conduct careful surveys. But apart from checking to see if finances and capabilities will hold up, all the biggest decisions in our life are left to gut feel. I’m not close to Dan, not at all. We just know each other from the design industry (we’re both graphic designers). In fact, a good friend of ours was the first who told us to check out Comuna, as a possible location for our design studio. We wrote it off thinking it wasn’t a good time. When the second knock came in the form of Dan and possibilities for our beer, my intuition fired up.
I had a good feeling about Comuna. I imagined this was what it must feel like to say yes to moving into a new house in a new village.
And the village had a very warm welcoming committee. Maya and her mom Tita Anmie, personally gave us a tour of the complex. They told us about the property’s previous incarnation as a taxi barn and a KTV bar. While talking, we were walking in the hot sun on unpaved floors to the sound of construction noises. Maya had her staff bring us some cold water and offered the air-conditioned admin office as a place where our daughter Selah could wait, noticing how Selah was getting antsy while the adults were talking.
Maya’s vision is to create a space that would bring new life to this part of Makati. And for the tenants, the idea was to gather a group of people who believe in the ideals of community. Community is a chance to embrace an identity. We wanted to be a group of people who share resources, who would use their various gifts to create fun and meaningful experiences together, and who would be friends with each other.
Since the compound formally opened last August 2023, the tenants began their operations one by one. We’ve thrown parties together since then—big booming events with pop-ups, photo booths, and talks. We’ve met up regularly for town-halls with Maya to talk about our plans and to just hang out. It was during the first town-hall that I knew Scratch bakery was going to be a force. Ralph Sy and Charlene Yap brought down slices of their sourdough and a giant plate of butter and dips. It was placed in front of me and I just kept reaching over for the bread and smearing into the plate again and again. I had to sit somewhere else in order not to finish the whole thing.
I only met the other tenants after we signed our Comuna lease. So many of us, maybe all of us, didn’t really know each other until we just started showing up on Pablo Ocampo Street to build the things we set out to build.
Joel, Selah, and I were there when Ani Café prototyped their first karaage dish. Selah loved it at first bite. I got to know Mika Bacani from Pepper.ph because we sat together during a poster-making contest at Space 63. She won it and it was the day I realized she was the most hilarious person in the compound. Ralph from Scratch watched our dog for most of the evening during Palm Tree Abbey’s opening; he had her leash slung on his shoulder while he talked to guests. From total strangers, I now have people I would trust my dog with.
Our next-door neighbor Jean Hill is what I would imagine the easiest neighbor in the world would be like. Each time we approach her with an idea, like the divider that opens and closes between Palm Tree Abbey and Goto Monster, she would light up and say, “Game!” We’ve had many “Game!’s” since then, and many leche flan ice cream pops sent to our side of the mezzanine.
We send food to each other all the time. When we order from someone’s place, we bring the dishes to ours, then return to them with their plates and utensils. I think of the early days when a bunch of us were dealing with things like business permit issues and a pipe leak we couldn’t find. We’d approach the counter of someone’s shop, let out a sigh, order something, then park on a chair nearby. And it would be the one big joy of the day.
Marla Darwin is the founder and creative director of NS Design, a small design studio that specializes in brand identity and packaging design. In 2024, she and her husband Joel opened Palm Tree Abbey, a craft beer brewery and taproom in Makati.
By MARLA DARWIN. Photographs by Joseph Pascual. Producer: Patricia Villoria.
