When traveling, I try to book either a walking or running tour of the city. After getting the lay of the land and reading up on an abridged version of the history of the place and some structures, I plan the days or weeks—which places or museums to visit—based on how close the districts are from each other. This saves me from wasting time while traveling.
Since pandemic restrictions were eased, walking tours in the metropolis have seen a resurgence. In Manila a few years ago, the only walking tour on offer was Walk This Way with the late Carlos Celdran. In the years that followed we saw walking tour offerings by Manila Walks, Wander Manila, Don’t Skip Manila, Heritage Collective, Renacimiento Manila… just to name a few.
Time and weather permitting, I try to go regularly. The latest one I took was a tour of San Nicolas in Manila. The thing with history books and historical novels, especially when set in the Philippines, is that they don’t give us enough visual references to help us conjure up that movie in our heads that play as we read.
Going on the tour of San Nicolas with our guide Stephen Pomorada of Heritage Collective provided me with the mental picture of the places Rizal wrote about in his novel Noli Me Tangere and humanized Revolutionary heroes like Andres Bonifacio, Mario Sakay, and Antonio Luna because they had homes in San Nicolas. It also gave me a thrill to think my grandfather, his brothers, as well as aunts and uncles, all walked the streets of San Nicolas and even ate at restaurants that are still in existence today.
A fishing town originally, San Nicolas was first called Baybay or “shore.” In fact, a bridge bordering Binondo and San Nicolas is called Baybay Bridge and the area around it is said to have been where Chinese immigrants were released after being quarantined on what is now called Baseco on Engineer Island. Baybay was renamed by the Dominican Order when they established a mission there in 1596.
Hopes and the promise of finding a better life in the Philippines saw waves of Chinese immigrants into the country. As Luisa Yap described them in her article “The Chinese in the Philippines,” “…most of them (came) with empty pockets but with high hopes of finding a better life.” These immigrants had skills the Spanish found very useful. They were “traders, artisans, masons, carpenters, goldsmiths, and household servants,” so, on Aug. 14, 1569, the Spanish colonial government allowed Chinese immigrants to become permanent residents. This started a love/hate relationship of sorts, as the Spanish government tried to maintain control over the Chinese community, growing in size and influence, that it had become very dependent on.
To address the waves of Chinese immigrants entering the Philippines, King Ferdinand VI of Spain mandated the creation of the Real Alcacaiceria de San Fernando. It was a custom house, marketplace, and residential area where the Chinese could do their business.
Today remnants of the Alcacaiceria can be found within the Pedro Guevara Elementary School (PGES) at the corner of San Fernando and Numancia Streets. We were fortunate enough on our visit to enter the school and go up to the second floor where a classroom-turned-museum is located. On display were remnants of a bustling place of commerce—commercial bottles, glass, Chinese trade and kitchenware—all painstakingly preserved by PGES teacher Wilven Infante. During numerous construction periods at the school, Infante would talk to the construction workers and scour the grounds for archaeological materials. To this day, they still find materials from the past.
Walking around San Nicolas and listening to the stories behind the houses and the people who lived in them brought history to life. One of two remaining Bahay na Tisa with the original roof tile still somewhat intact is found in San Nicolas. The famous Bahay na Tisa in Pasig, in fact, no longer has its tile roofing. What makes the houses with roof tiles even more significant is that after the earthquake of 1863, the Spanish colonial government banned the use of tiles on houses because, during the earthquake, more people died and were injured from falling tile roofs than from the earthquake itself. To see such a house, which is estimated to have been built before 1863, still standing in this district is a treat.
Unfortunately, more and more heritage homes and structures are being demolished to give way to modern high-rises. According to Pomorada, there are only 78 heritage structures left in San Nicolas. In 2014, there were hundreds and he fears more cultural heritage sites in San Niclas will be lost.
But how can this country “seek to maintain and nurture its environment and cultural heritage as part of its identity” when all that matters for the companies buying up these properties (and demolishing them) is the value of the land they sit on? In Victor S. Venida’s article, “Old Buildings: An Economist’s View,” one problematic aspect in economic analysis is the question of value. Many things are difficult to quantify and value is one of them.” Venida insists, however, that it can be done. He recommends that old structures be defined, identified, renovated or restored, and given tax breaks, tax relief, as well as incentives and subsidies for renovations. According to him, research also needs to be done on “the architectural, artistic, social, and personal histories of these buildings and structures” to help “guide the process of adaptive reuse, the development of guidebooks, and the identification of appropriate activities that can be encouraged in the district.”
Most important, there should be a true partnership between the local government and the stakeholders, which may be the most difficult to achieve.
