Padre Cera's Las Penas

[caption id="" align="alignnone" width="232" caption="The Recollets greatest builder in Spanish Philippines"][/caption]

I was looking at my old collection of photographs when I saw pictures of St. Josephs's of Las Pinas that I took s  sometime in 2006 when I was looking for the old bridge that was built by the master builder of Las Pinas, the great Padre Diego Cera, creator of the iconic bamboo organ and founder of the town  parish. Today, the recollet Padre is regarded as the founder of the old Las Pinas town [although records show that it was founded in 1762, Cera came inthe early 1800's], but still such an honor should be given to Cera, as the emblem of the ciudad would show today his legacy, the Bamboo Organ.

In front of the parish is a grey stone monument of Padre Cera, surrounded by his workers, digging the bamboos out of the salty sands of the bay. It took him almost a decade to complete his project. This technique made the otherwise fragile bamboo into a hardy material, replacing the traditional metal pipes used in popular european pipe organs - necessity they say is the mother of all invention.

Whats astounding is that the Recollet father built the church and the organ almost at the same time, testament to his uncanny planning skills. Today, inside the mini museum, one could find some of the original pieces of the organ which was taken to Europe for a full repair sometime in the 70's.

The annual star attraction of the town is the international event, the Bamboo Organ festival, where both local and internation choir groups compete in the spirit of celebrating the uniqueness of this beautiful musical instrument.

A representative of St. Joseph, Msgr. Albert Venus, expressed his disappointment to see that foreigners are more interested than locals, in his words "its alarming". We're a generation without a clear understanding of our heritage and identity, so this attitude is not really surprising Padre.

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Most people think that Las Pinas got its name from the tropical fruit Pina, a visit to the old Iglesia of San Jose would disprove this, the original bell now sits in front of the door that leads to the loft, inscribed on the bell is the word "Las Penas" [Siendo Cura-del Pueblo de las Peñas el M.R.P. Padre Diego Cera se Fundio este equilon ano de 1820] which literally means hardship [sacrifice], its interesting how it became "Pinas" for there was no record of any pineapple industry in this once  fishing district of Paranaque.

[caption id="" align="alignnone" width="323" caption="The Parochial Chair"][/caption]

Inside the museum of the Las Piñas Parochial Church are other relics. Pictures and memorabilias from Padre Ezequiel Moreno, a Spanish Recollet so admired by his town mates that when he was transferred to Sto Tomas, the Las Pineros protested the decision in front of the Recollets headquarters in Intramuros, said to be the first ever people power in our history, he went on to fulfill his duties in Sto Tomas and other provinces under the Recollets, he became a Bishop in Latin America. He is also regarded as one of the founders of Puerto Princesa - Nick Joaquin  in one of his essay, said that among the paladins of clothe, the recollets were the specialist in "jungle missions", today, they are credited for converting Negros into the successful sugar maker that it is.

They were also once the richest order in the country, with big shares in San Miguel and land holdings greater than the other orders.

Matud Nila

When I was looking for a place to stay [I'm really on a super tight budget] I was looking for some inexpensive spaces, I found many places that were old and neglected, many offer rooms that were like dirty bomb shelters. I was hopping from one barrio to the other, unfamiliar with urban Cebu, I would always end up asking for directions, I was at the mercy of strangers, and true enough, people here are generous and kind.

Like the Zubiri's of Cebu.

Their Grandfather was a renowned Visaya musician, "an all around" musikero, his daughter now confined to her wheelchair recalls. I was interviewing her for sometime when I realized that I was giving her a hard time, I was told that she has survived several medical emergencies, I no longer dared to ask more. After thanking her I left her alone with her good lady caretaker.

His father was Ben Zubiri, aka Iyo Karpo, the composer of the immortal Visayan ballad, "Matud Nila" [they say]. A tagalog version, "Ikaw na Lamang" was made by Levi Celerio. Zubiri was also a Cebuano actor, acting in one of the first Cebuano movies released in theater houses locally. A matud nila has been sung by countless Filipino musician from Pilita Corales to modern crooners like Mark Bautista. Its the greatest Visayan song my Mama would tell me.

My Mama, a Visayan woman herself, would listen to a radio drama to an AM station, the background music was this timeless classic, sung by a soothing female voice [anyone knows who the singer was on that show? its on DZRH I believe, the drama was played every noon time, mid 1980's].

Zubiri was also a fierce guerrilla fighter during the Japanese occupation, he met his wife in Bohol, where he was stationed. He died on 1969.


Ben Zuburi and his awards on top of his beloved piano where he created his memorable Cebuano ballads

Reporting from Cebu

I took a night flight to Cebu last Thursday; I was in Mactan in less than an hour. Air travel has made what was once a lengthy trip into a very short trip. [ a commute to EDSA from my place in Muntinlupa takes longer!]

It was a smooth flight; I was a bit uneasy because it was my first time flying at night. It was nice to see Macati and its city lights, just as I was starting to enjoy the specks of illumination beneath, the Captain announced that were descending towards Mactan and that we were somewhere in Masbate.

I would be writing from here for now. Saludos!

Down the River

[caption id="" align="alignnone" width="393" caption="A colorful boat loaded with passengers crossing the river"][/caption]

Crossing Pasig river on a banca was a father and son affair that I always look forward to, we had relatives in Mandaluyong then, and during the weekends and holidays we would often come and visit. My father, a frugal and impatient traveler prefers the wet and rickety banca ride, it was inexpensive and the fastest way he said, but I knew even then that crossing the river is not the safest commute one could take - but for a kid my age, water is fun!

But with all the bad things we hear about the river, its significance in our history would never diminish, the great Nick Joaquin went on to state that this graceful river created Manila. Kingdoms were founded on its banks, without it there would be no settlements and commerce in prehispanic Manila,  Legazpi would've stayed in Cebu and not bother to establish Manila as Spain's colonial capital.

[caption id="" align="alignnone" width="327" caption="The boat ride that brings people from Macati to Mandaluyong (look at how it unevenly tilts to its side)"][/caption]

Macati during the Spanish times was a holiday place for the affluent families of Manila, trying to escape the oppressive heat of the sun - they built vacation residences near the waterway where it is said to be cooler. I grew up hearing stories of its splendor, how people would catch countless fishes of diverse kind and how riverside dwellers would leisurely bathe on its fresh waters during summertime, this was of course before the informal settlers and factories came to its banks and condemned the river to its death.

If you want to go back further in time, there were the "aguadores" who would collect drinking water on some part of the river where it is clear and vend it on the street, yes, people had drunk water from that river!

[caption id="" align="alignnone" width="393" caption="A Family on deck observing the Pandacan oil depo"][/caption]

Today, I boarded a ferry in Guadalupe Nuevo, the ride would take me to Plaza Mexico in Intramuros, I'm not crossing the rio this time - I'm taking a ride down the river! I was surprise how organize everything was, the ferry station was clean and the personnel are all in uniform, and they were extremely polite. The ferry was on time, it was spotless and air-conditioned. People should start riding ferries - its cheaper, safe and efficient. The ferry have ample supply of life jackets, it also have a flat screen television and a clean toilet.

After Sta. Ana, people were allowed to go on deck, it wasn't so bad, I hardly notice the stench the river is now famous for, from there one could see all the swarming houses and crumbling factories ashore, rubbish together with water lilies were floating all over the place, amazingly, I saw men and children bathing - for them the provincial beaches are too far, too pricey, while the Pasig rivers water is free of charge, so there they are, swimming along with waste and dirt!

Historical accounts tells us that crocodiles once exist in this river, people then would bathe in enclosed areas, where the resilient bamboo buried in the riverbed would protect them, the crocodiles are all gone now, they were hunted to extinction! well, even if they weren't obliterated by the riverside dwellers, I doubt it if they could endure the polluted Pasig river of the 1900's.

For the fishermen, life goes on. When I was younger, I've always enjoyed observing them from the banks, theirs is a trouble-free life, I would even draw pictures of them on my elementary notepads, of course when you start to learn about life's reality you begin to understand that these men's lives are not as easy as it appears to be. During my childhood the river was already filthy, it produces an overpowering smell [esp. when a big boat or a barge would disturb its waters] my father would slap my hands whenever I'd dip them in the water while on a banca. I thought that 20 years has past since then, no fishermen could ever make a living out of these grubby waters now, I was wrong, they are still there, as if nothing has change.

At the PUP station, coast guards boarded and inspected the ferry, we were getting close to Malacañan, we were told not to take pictures, for a while I thought that they would also command us to close our eyes, the level of insecurity of this current administration is incredible. People who were trying out the ferry ride were puzzled, someone said, "baka kasi nagbibihis si Gloria at mabosohan nyo' pa!", even the Coast Guard man smiled. I hope that instead of prohibiting people to take pictures of a palace where some of their tax money go, the government should focus on improving those pitiable coast guard vessels, a dragon boat could out run those obsolete vessels stationed near the PUP.

[caption id="" align="alignnone" width="393" caption="The historic Manila Central Post Office Building"][/caption]

When we reached Ayala Bridge I saw hospicio de San Jose, the Isla de Convelancia , it has served this nation since 1810, mainly an orphanage, it also provides shelter for the elderly, its now being administered by the Daughter of Charity of St. Vincent de Paul. These institutions reminds me of the good that came from our despised Spanish past, its so beautiful and so peaceful. It is said that Hospicio was the place where patients from the other old Manila hospitals is sent to recover faster. I would want to visit it one day.

The terminal in Quiapo appears unsafe, and this has nothing to do with the ferry service, its not their fault that the squatters are there, you would have to alight under bridge and walk until you reach the back portion of the Quinta Market. I would not suggest going down here, specially if your one of those people that can't be without the expensive gadgets, not unless you want to get acquainted with the tattooed tambays there.

The view of Binondo and the Intramuros from the ferry was remarkable, we were fast approaching the last terminal, one could picture how beautiful this places were then, the ferry arrived at Plaza Mexico in Intramuros exactly 45 minutes after the it departed Guadalupe, I felt good about the trip and I hope people would try it. But in order to enjoy the ride you'll have to use your imagination and travel back in time.

Letter from Sr. Jose R. Lopez

I received this pleasant email from Sr. Jose Rizal-Lopez. In it he corrects the popular notion that Sr. Paciano was referred to as "Pacing" by his family.

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Francis Durango Magalona

Francis Magalona's death is a great and absolute national loss for the Filipino nation.

A great artist, very much loved by all his friends and to numerous other artist, he had a huge number of  supporters from all walks of life.

Grandson of revered nationalist Senator, Enrique Magalona [author of RA No 709, "Instruction of Spanish in colleges and universities"], and son of famous parents, Pancho and Tita, a matinee tandem in the mid 1900's. The Magalona's were proud Ilonngos.

As a young man, he became an actor, following on the footsteps his parents, he's remembered by his days in the "bagets", he then ventured into rap music, were his career even more blossomed. He consistently advocated nationalism and unity in his songs.

The "Man from Manila" should be awarded a National Artist recognition for his inspiring music and his patriotic efforts. We owe this man a great deal.

He will be greatly missed.

Kamusta Na?

Taken from RCBC Makati, there are still some who believes in the spirit of EDSA. To this day, the promise of EDSA remains to be a spirit.

I was trying to write something about EDSA, but whenever I do, I just kept on remembering my childhood memories of those troubled days - sweets thrown by yellow wearing Cory supporters on top of their raucous vehicle convoys, decorated with yellow placards with Ninoys giant face on it, we kids back then loved it!

Siguro mas maganda para sa akin na ito na lang ang maalala, mas masaya at maguinhawa sa isipan kumpara sa mga kamalian at paghihirap ng ang EDSA ay matapos at simulang gamitin ng mga taong gobierno at ng mga elitista.

I'll stick with this beautiful place inside my mind, but to most of us EDSA has lost its true significance, because we f***** up what was supposed to be a gain, we allowed our government to be administered by greedier men, leaders that are more corrupt than the one they unseated.

What would these EDSA's mean if we keep on going backwards?

Below is the lyrics of a song by Yano, that great Fiipino punk rock group, I like their music, so honest and simple, this is the story of EDSA for most of us.

"Kamusta Na?"
Yano

Kumusta na, ayos pa ba
Ang buhay natin, kaya pa ba
Eh kung hinde, paano na
Ewan mo ba, bahala na?

Napanood kita sa tv, sumama ka sa rali
Kasama ang mga madre, pinigilan mga tangke
Umiiyak ka pa sa harap ng mga sundalo
Namigay ka pa ng rosas na nabili mo sa kanto

Dala-dala mo pa, estatwa ni Sto. Nino
Eskapularyo't Bibliya, sangkatutak na rosaryo
At sa gitna ng EDSA, lumuhod ka't nagdasal pa
Our Father, Hail Mary from thy bounty thru Christ our Lord amen

Pebrero, bente-sais nang si Apo ay umalis
Ngiti mo'y hanggang tenga sa kakatalon, napunit a'ng pantalon mo
Pero hindi bale, sabi mo, marami naman kame
Kahit na amoy pawis, tuloy pa rin ang disco sa kalye

Nakita kita kahapon, may hila-hilang kariton
Huminto sa may Robinson, tumanga buong maghapon
Sikat ka noon sa tibi kase kasama ka doon sa rali
Pero ngayo'y nag-iisa, naglalakad sa may EDSA

Ewan mo ba, bahala na
Bahala na, bahala na