Day 7
After picking up my recovered phone from Alabang Town Center, I hopped on a bus and made my way to Quiapo. Taking a car to downtown Manila feels like too much hassle considering traffic, tolls, fuel and especially parking (might be worth it with a full passenger load but not solo). Turns out my bus fare from Las Piñas to Quiapo cost less than a litre of petrol.
It was a long slow grind along Alabang-Zapote Road. I'm actually surprised it hasn't been renamed yet, considering that streets I used to know in my lifetime have been renamed (for historical and some I suspect politcal reasons):
- Avenida into Rizal Avenue
- Highway 54 into EDSA*
- Buendia into Gil Puyat
- Pasong Tamo into Arnaiz
- Pasay Road into Chino Roces
I could go on but I'm just showing off my age here.
Traffic eased up once we hit Coastal Road (CAVITEX). I do enjoy seeing the Manila Skyline from across the bay. Instead of continuing along Roxas Boulevard, we peeled off into the newly reclaimed land (hah! it was started in the 1970s) west of the Boulevard to hit PITX and MOA before rejoining it after Baclaran. Even though the land reclamation had been completed decades ago, I still have trouble accepting this change is permanent as evidenced by the various developments, resort hotels, residential towers, and malls that have since sprouted. There are fewer and fewer people from my generation that still carry living memories of this being part of the sea.
I was shocked when I saw Luneta had been bulldozed. My online research indicated that this was part of the plan to ressurrect the original plans for its development dating back to 1905. I'm sad and infuriated at the same time.
When we were very young (1968-1970), we would sometimes stay over with my aunties in Tondo. If it was a particularly nice evening, they would take us on a jeepney ride with my cousins to Luneta for an evening stroll. We used the park as it was meant to be used. Couples and families out to enjoy the gentle sea breeze amid the grass, trees, playgrounds, and sculptures. There was even an aquarium that exhibited various marine life, my favourite being the piranha tank.
The bus deposited all of its passengers near Colegio Santa Isabel (don't get me started on the Jai Alai building, I'm done grieving that) leaving me as the only passenger to take across the Pasig River to Quiapo. Over the Quezon Bridge and down the ramp to Quezon Boulevard (yeah Quezon was a big deal), we shot past Quiapo Church, the passenger unloading zone was further down near Raon than Quiapo. That suited me just fine as I did want to explore Raon anyway.
This district of Manila is packed with street vendors, stalls, wholesalers and retailers spruiking everything from fashion (fakes or factory overruns, or more likely both), to tools, hardware, electronics. I even spotted a vendor with dildoes, hmm that's new, I thought. The ground floor of buildings are entrances to a warren of more stalls, and eateries. This is the furthest you can get from the airconditioned malls, this is where the masses can maximise their purchasing power.
It is very densely crowded and one has to maintain the highest level of alertness lest one fall victim to scams, pick pockets, snatchers. Very far removed from the Blue Mountains where the biggest crowds I have to deal with on a regular basis is the check out queue at Katoomba ALDI. There were some occasions when I decided it wouldn't be prudent to pull out my phone to take pictures, even though every one around me had one and were busy scrolling through their Tik Tok feed. This is where you meet "the average Filipino" going about their lives.
The noise is deafening, especially in the area where you can buy professional audio components for night clubs, karaoke bars, auditoriums. Each stall competing with each other by turning their amps up to eleven just to show everyone they have the best and the loudest (they are not always the same thing). The smells vary from. diesel exhaust, sharp plastic wrap, textiles, leather, to ozone tinged electrical, rust and grease, all of them taking turns with food aromas from frying, barbecuing, and steaming. Brief periods of rain would send everyone scurrying for cover and deploying umbrellas, Puddles would pullulate into floods if the rain ever went longer than an hour. Luckily today they remained as puddles, large, 2 inch deep puddles, but still shy of being called a flood. You can call it a flood (baha in the Tagalog) once the enterprising boys put up walkways made of planks supported by hollow blocks or tyres, charge pedestrians a few coins for the privilege of using them to avoid having to wade through baha.
I made my way past Avenida and wound up in Ongpin, Manila's original Chinatown. Lamp posts with red and gold dragons marked the boundaries of this district. Famous eateries are interspersed with traders importing everything from heavy machinery to restaurant equipment, all imported from China and Taiwan. Some of the buildings date back to the American occupation and the post-war rebuild, some more recent like the 70s and 80s. The streets are like core drill samples where you can identify the many layers representing various time periods.
When I emerged at Plaza Santa Cruz, I saw the church, the fountain, and the old buildings that wouldn't have been out of place in Madrid or Montevideo. If I hadn't been to any of those places, its significance to our rich history would have been lost on me. Inside Santa Cruz church, I sat on the pews and teased out memories of being a toddler with my parents attending mass. I would be the little boy crawling under the rows of seats and over the kneelers disturbing worshippers.
On Avenida was tired Isetan. I remember when it was new, where I bought my girlfriend a stuffed toy (monkey), it was cute and she loved it. There is a place that still called itself Good Earth, but I still carry memories of Good Earth Emporium at that site, back when the only other department stores were Rustans, COD, and Arcegas.
When it was time to head home, I made my way to Lawton aka Liwasang Bonifacio via Quinta Market and back south over the Pasig. The Post Office building where I attended many student rallies in 1983-1984 burned down just this year.
The only thing that picked up my sad lamentation of lost iconic landmarks is the restoration and re-opening of the Metropolitan Theatre. This is a desperate plea to all Manileños, please preserve our heritage. A place like this magnificent example of Art Deco does not exist anywhere in Asia, not even Australia has anything as exquisite as the Metropolitan. One would have to go to New York or Paris to see, let alone attend a performance in similar a place.
*Epifanio De Los Santos Avenue if anyone was asking
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