The Spirit of Suki: Trust, Loyalty, and Connection in the Philippines
2 min reading time
In Manila’s jewelry markets, I met an elderly couple who called me their suki — a rare honor in the Philippines that means more than being a customer. It’s about trust, loyalty, and connection. My sister-in-law whispered, “That never happens.” That day, I realized jewelry is never just about adornment. It’s about people, and the bonds we build along the way.
In the bustling markets of the Philippines, there’s a word that captures more than just a transaction — that word is “suki.”
A suki is more than a regular customer. It speaks to a relationship built on loyalty, trust, and mutual respect between a buyer and a seller. When you’re someone’s suki, you’re not just purchasing goods; you’re part of a deeper connection where both sides value and look out for each other.
For vendors, a suki is someone they’ll save the best produce or products for. For buyers, it means always coming back to the same seller, knowing they’ll be treated with fairness, kindness, and sometimes even with little extras — a discount, a free add-on, or simply a warm smile. Over time, suki relationships become friendships, rooted in community and care.
Whenever I, LouAnn, am in Manilla, I love exploring the markets with my sister-in-law. Not least because she's an amazing person, a gifted story teller, and has a keen eye for the human condition. She is also a Filipina with a unique perspective. She grew up in the US and moved back to the Philippines as an adult so her feet straddle two cultures giving her a unique insider/outsider perspective.
For me, she is an invaluable partner helping navigate some of the cultural nuances. So when the wife of a jewelry selling duo referred to me as their suki, she gasped and said, "that never happens." I was, needless to say, delighted. It meant my approach, willingness to talk to them, understand them, and listen to their stories and build a bond, developed into something special and meaningful.
I never forgotten that act of kindness and recognition and makes a point on every visit to the Philippines to stop by. I've been rewarded with smiles and introduction to other family members, a few of which are carrying on the tradition of jewelry making.
Whenever I return to Manila, I go back to those markets with my sister-in-law. Not only because she makes every trip an adventure, but because those markets remind me that jewelry isn’t just about adornment. It’s about human connection — the stories, the relationships, the unexpected moments when you’re seen and remembered.
My suki relationship with that elderly couple was the first of many reminders that the world of jewelry is as much about people as it is about pieces. It's because of those types of reminders that I started Sundara Joon.
Suki may be a Filipino notion, but it is one I try to carry with me far and wide.
