Hometown hearts, Hiroshima

Upstream from the A-Bomb Dome,
circa December 2011

Hiroshima is a town dear to my heart because it is my dear husband's hometown. He loves going back to spend time with his family and we visit as regularly as people who are living in a different country can. His father built their home, which is positioned very close to the centre of the city in their neighbourhood back in the seventies. The unexpected quietness and the convenient walkability of this area is a source of recurring delight for us every time we return.

Thankfully, my father-in-law is not quite a true local as he grew up in Yoshiura near Kure which is around fifteen kilometres from Hiroshima city proper. Kure was a naval centre and the home base of the largest battleship ever constructed, the Yamato (see link for background, specs and photos). It also became home temporarily from 1946 to thousands of British, Indian, New Zealand, and Australian soldiers who were stationed here as members of the British Commonwealth Occupation Force (BCOF), and he and his older brother remember seeing them around the town and trying to cadge candy from them when they were young. His mother witnessed the mushroom cloud from the relative safety of Yoshiura. My mother-in-law was also fortunate as she grew up on the neighbouring island of Shikoku, even farther away from the bomb site.

Peace Museum park-side,
 circa December 2010

One of the notable aspects of the current family home's location is that it is within walking distance of the Heiwa Kinen Koen (Hiroshima Peace Memorial Park). It appears that ground zero was initially to become a city park and it was only later in 1949 that the land was declared to be for the purpose of establishing a peace memorial park. Roughly twenty six acres around Nakajima, which had been previously occupied by an estimated six thousand five hundred people prior to the blast, were marked out for this end in 1951.

This park now houses a range of memorials, amongst these are monuments to remember the children, medical staff, teachers, Korean workers, as well as many others who lost their lives on August 6th, 1945 (see this link and click on the tab second from the top on the right called "Guided tours to Peace Memorial Park and vicinity" for a more complete list), but foremost is the Heiwa Kinen Shiryokan (Hiroshima Peace Memorial Museum) which is visited by virtually all tourists who spend any time in the city, (including members of  my own family).  Incidentally, the locals simply call the museum the Genbaku Shiryokan (Genbaku means bomb) and the park is Heiwa Koen (Peace Park). None of those previously mentioned highfalutin formal names for them, thank you very much!

To give you an idea of the layout of the park and the distances involved I have included the Google Map to the right. The family residence is close to Higashisenda park which marked by a gold star at the very bottom of the map.

I realised while I was assembling some photographs to illustrate this blog post that I had never really looked closely at the museum building. Perhaps I did the first time I set eyes upon in 1994 but I do not recall that it made much of an impression on me at the time. That was the trip when I took my parents to visit Hiroshima and I also met Saburo's parents for the first time. I must have had other things on my mind back then as I do not even remember that our joint families had lunch together at this beautiful garden restaurant called Hanbe (see link) where we even saw a bride decked out in a traditional white kimono. 

The Peace Museum, taken from the Peace Boulevard-side (Heiwa-Odori), circa December 2011

A little Internet research uncovered the fact that a design competition for the memorial museum had been held in 1949 and the winner was Kenzo Tange. I was surprised to discover that the building had been completed as long ago as 1955. I had assumed it was a much later addition to the park because of its modern lines. Photographs of make-shift baraku accomodation (from the English word for barracks) can be viewed on this website  (see link). These images reveal how life continued for a number of years in the Nakajima neighbourhood after the explosion until the residents were forcibly removed and the dwellings were demolished for the construction of the museum to commence. Unsurprisingly, the museum was opposed by some quarters who felt the money should be diverted to help the victims. The Engineer tells me that many baraku remained in use in the vicinity of Motomachi for a long time afterward (the area to the top right of where the map ends).

Taken from the "T"-shaped Aioi Bridge,
circa May 2015

Architect Tange was influenced by the Swiss-French architect Le Corbusier, and his museum design was part of the pioneering Metabolism movement (see link for my previous post on Tokyo-Edo Museum, another Metabolic structure). Tange wanted the museum building to act as a gateway to the park (scroll down on this link to read more about his design rationale). It is really quite clever how he lined up the the A-bomb dome with the cenotaph and placed the museum buildings perpendicular to them, and then put the museum on piloti (i.e. columns that lift the building above the ground) to create an unobstructed view from the entrance on Peace Boulevard. It all appears so very natural that it is hard to imagine the juxtaposition of these iconic landmarks being any different.

His comments about peace which were published in a magazine interview in October 1949 provide some insight into his vision for his design. He stated, "Peace is not what Mother Nature or Divinity bestows upon you but you practice and create it. Hiroshima peace facility is not only for commemorating restored peace but for creating peace in a constructive way. We thought the facility we were about to work on had to be a factory where peace shall be created" (see link).

We could see this "factory" in motion this year when we visited the museum in May. It just so happened that our timing coincided with that of a million junior high school students who were there for their shugakouryokou (overnight school trip).  9th graders in Japan take a three-night four-day trip to a different part of Japan, such as Hiroshima or Kyoto, which has a particular historical or cultural significance to the nation as part of their education. The parking bays of the museum were filled to capacity with colourful school buses obstructing the gateway view of the park.

Undeterred, we purchased our tickets. We were momentarily perplexed by how cheap they were at fifty yen only, but we pushed on and were soon being jostled by the throngs of students and tourists who were wending their way around the exhibition route. Although I lack the scientific understanding necessary to fully appreciate the complexities of nuclear reactions, I did appreciate the commendable job the museum does of demystifying this in the first section via excellent illustrated explanations given in both Japanese and English. What would also be valuable in my humble opinion would be to include some additional background regarding the events immediately prior to the bombing taking place to give the visitors a richer understanding of the complex circumstances involved. 

It was actually the Engineer who had wanted to re-visit the museum this year. I have visited the museum several times over the years and it always takes some kokoro-jumbi (self-preparation) to gaze upon the ghastly images of the devastation wrought by one "Little Boy" (see link for more about the atomic bomb dropped on Hiroshima city). As well as that I struggle anew with the great human suffering that resulted because our countries went to war against each other so many years ago now.

This year being the seventieth anniversary of the Battle of Manila, I have attended a significant number of presentations on war battles and their aftereffects in the Philippines so I felt it only fair that I front up once more and look at the war from the Japanese perspective.  However, I did not pause over the displays and I was moving along faster than my companion. I stopped after awhile and passed some time simply by sitting and observing the reactions on the faces of those around me as they absorbed the content of the displays. 

I could see that most people were really drawn to the artifacts on display. The science attracted some of the students but not in the same way as the heart-breaking displays of the belongings that were used to identify those who did not survive and horrifying photographs of the survivors who did. We saw the bank steps with the "shadow" black mark of the person who was sitting there at 8:15 a.m. in the morning waiting for it to open (see link for a photograph), and I recognised many familiar landmarks while studying the other photographs on display.

As we left the Engineer was talking about the horse exhibit that was missing from the halls, and I noticed the sign informing the public that the East building would be closed for renovations until the spring of 2016; thus explaining the enigma of the absent horse and the discounted price of the entrance ticket. Even though the display was limited and perhaps the ongoing renovations will fill some of the other gaps in the future, all around us, both inside and outside of the building, there was evidence that within the "factory", the cogs were whirring actively. 

Inside the museum there were students all of the place busily completing their assigned question sheets,
and tourists in the background signing a petition against nuclear weapons, circa May 2015.  

Students paying their respects in front of the Cenotaph, circa May 2015

So many students in fact that they were overflowing from the park and (nearly) spilling into the river, circa May 2015

Australian international policy maker and former politician, Gareth Evans (see link for his biography), recounts how his experience of encountering the "shadow" on the bank step in situ while on his first ever trip abroad led him to pledge to do his utmost to remove nuclear weapons from the world (see link). As I watched the young minds of the students digest the information shown in the exhibits, I wondered what they were thinking. Were their minds busily making sense of their surroundings? What kind of peace would they construct in their hearts for Hiroshima, their nation, and the world? These are big questions, I know, but it is my heartfelt hope that I continue to witness the progress of the "factory's" works for many more years to come. May peace be with us all in the meantime.

All roads lead to Subic

Our 170-kilometre car journey (see grey line on map below) on Maundy Thursday took us from our home to our Subic Bay hotel in four hours. This was par for the course when we last visited this area in 2007. Back then the North Luzon Expressway (NLEX) would take you smoothly to Angeles where the expressway finished,  after which travel speeds dropped due to the condition of the section of road between Angeles and Subic. The 2008 completion of the Subic-Clark-Tarlac Expressway (SCTEX), which has a toll gate in Angeles city, means such long hauls are no longer the rule, except of course, when it is the first day of Holy Week and every man and his Toyota Vios has the same idea to head out of town.

Kindly indulge me with a slight detour here. In researching this post, I learned about the activities of the BCDA Group (which is overseen by the Bases Conversion and Development Authority (BCDA)). This group plays a major role in the infrastructure development of the Philippines, as according to its website, it is responsible for, "...transform[ing] former military bases and property into premier centers of economic growth in partnership with the private sector" (see link), and lists SCTEX, Bonifacio Global City, and Newport City amongst its projects. It is in charge of running various freeport and economic zones, one of which is the Clark Freeport Zone (formerly the Clark Air Base occupied by the United States Air Force and located near Mabalacat City) and another is the Subic Bay Freeport Zone.

The construction of the SCTEX is linked to the development of the Clark Freeport and the Subic Bay Freeport Zones. It was constructed in two segments by joint-ventures between Japanese companies, Kajima and Obayashi, and Hazama and Taisei (see link). And just by the by, the traffic flow on NLEX also improved after upgrade works by Australian company Leighton Construction (see link) in 2005. Funding was obtained for both from the  Asian Development Bank (ADB) and the Japan Bank of International Cooperation (JBIC), along with a number of other financial organisations.

Returning to the road and our fellow travellers again, many of them were probably making their way to Sagada, a mountainous area which is several hundred kilometres further north and which is a popular destination for religious pilgrimages. A common local practice is the Visita Iglesia (see link), where faithful members of the Roman Catholic Church seek to pray or complete the Stations of the Cross at seven different churches during Holy Week (for information about the origins of this practice see this link, and for an example of the prayer format see this link). Traditionally it was completed within a town setting, but in recent years increasing numbers of people choose to visit life-sized tableaux erected on hillsides where they feel that the difficulty of trekking in these settings simulates the suffering of Jesus more fully. That is not to say that everyone spends Holy Week in spiritual pursuits, and the beach is a much-loved destination, too.

The flow of traffic was blocked by the long lines that formed in front of the toll booths where car users were electing to pay manually. We were in a rental car without an electronic tag and this delayed our progress considerably. The plus side was that the scenery on this stretch of road is quite pretty and we were on holiday and content to soak in the scenery.

We entered Olongapo City and searched for our hotel amongst the colourful establishements that lined the aptly named Baloy Long beachfront strip. Our room had a bright blue sea view, although worryingly, the air conditioner was blowing hot air but we were reassured that it would cool down after thirty minutes. I had visions of us sweltering through the night but they kindly checked it for me and it did kick in as they promised it would.

                                                                                                         
I was surprised by the diminutive scale of Olongapo City, which is nestled snugly around Subic Bay. The roads were wide but the buildings were squat little structures, with nothing much over five stories it seemed. The view of the rolling green hills around the city was unimpeded and it felt like we were smack bang in the middle of the countryside. Naturally we visited the oldest structure listed on our guide map, the Spanish Gate, which is a remnant from the Spanish use of Subic Bay as a naval port in 1885 (see link). It was subsequently used by the Americans as the main gate to their naval station (see link) in the early twentieth century. I came across this book which details some of the thinking behind the choice of Subic Bay as an alternative port to Cavite. It seems that Guimaris was also in the running (see link), and perhaps this explains how MacArthur's Wharf on Guimaris Island came about. I remember being puzzled, during my 2005 island visit, as to why the US Army Corps of Engineers had been assigned to such a remote location. Obviously, the powers-that-be also found the location too isolated to warrant further development.

Next we visited the waterfront near Alava Pier and came across another "overseas" visitor.

We strolled along Waterfront Road and discovered it is the permanent home to a "Hellships Memorial" (see link) which was dedicated by the Australian Ambassador to the Philippines Mr. Rod Smith in 2009 (sadly, it is already missing some stone sections).The unmarked Montevideo Maru carrying Australian soldiers and civilians from New Guinea was torpedoed and sunk by the USS Sturgeon off the coast of the Luzon island in the Philippines in July 1942. The passenger manifest was not made available until after the end of the war (see link) which must have been another kind of hell for the families. Most of the WW2 history I hear about involves the US, the Philippines, and Japan. It is rare to hear Australia mentioned and I spent some time reading the memorial and contemplating the events depicted.

Ironically, the next memorial we encountered was commemorating the end of the RP-US Military Bases Agreement (see link) in 1991. It was only twenty four years ago. The navy ship outlined in the background makes it seem like nothing has changed, but the SCTEX we used to travel here reminds me that from this the Bases Conversion and Development Authority was born and the country now has new infrastructure.

Our next destination was at the far side of the bay. The Engineer wanted to re-visit the container terminal (link) that his company with a joint-venture partner had completed constructing in 2007 (i.e. the reason for our first visit). As the sun started its descent, he raced to take enough photos to send to his colleague who was involved with this project. 

We returned to the hotel too late for a proper sundowner. After watching the children, who looked like they were having the time of their lives, swim and play baseball (see orange bat to right) we climbed the stairs for pre-dinner drinks to farewell the last of the light.

I had no expectations regarding dinner, in fact quite the opposite as I had packed emergency cup noodles, so it was a more than pleasant surprise when we went for our meal and found that the restaurant was fitted out like an English sports pub. It even had a model train track suspended from the ceiling, sports photos hanging all over the place and a Royal Enfield on display. I had chosen the hotel purely on availability and this accidental good fortune was very welcome. The Engineer was quite thrilled by his fish and chips, and I heartily tucked into my bangers and mash. Watching the train go round and round amused me no end, and I believe someone else quite liked his quick joy ride on the Royal Enfield en route to our room. We waddled off to bed very happily that night!

Dominga Street, Dominga Street

In the early afternoon it took quite a time for an intrepid friend and me to hunt down and capture a taxi near my apartment building. There are certain periods in the day when none can be found on the roads, and this was one of them. The first one we ensnared was let go after the driver screwed up his face and repeated blankly the address I had given him, “Dominga Street? Dominga Street?” several times. He would struggle to deliver us to our destination I decided, and made my friend get out of the taxi. She did so quite good-naturedly even though she is an ex-Manhattanite who will happily ride in any taxi no matter what.

One reason I often walk within my Makati City neighbourhood is that dealing with taxi drivers is a trial for me that I bear poorly (just ask my friend!). Being lost stresses me out probably more than anything else does in life. In recent years, I have learned to forearm myself with maps before embarking to a new place and I do feel confident that I will always find wherever we are going but navigating the irregular maze of streets in Manila makes me nervous and the language barrier makes communication problematic; and when I with my English-teaching background cannot make myself understood, I get my knickers in a total twist. It is neither logical nor pretty but there it is.

My strategy is to cut my losses and move on immediately if they have trouble understanding me or they do not recognize the location I have requested to be taken. I prefer to spend a little longer locating a more experienced driver than to spend time at the other end frantically searching for the unknown. In this case, the next taxi driver who stopped evinced enough recognition when I mentioned the name of the area we were headed, for me to believe he was a sufficiently safe bet.

Thus, for the second time we hopped into a taxi and set off towards Malate. We were on our way to visit the Museum of Contemporary Art and Design (MCAD), which is located within the De La Salle-College of Saint Benilde’s School of Design and Art (SDA) (if you are also curious to know why a Filipino school might be named after a French saint who died in 1862 see link). Distance-wise at less than four kilometres from our starting point, MCAD was relatively nearby but I could feel a distinct shift in mood once we were out of our Makati business district and within its perimeters. Traffic was heavy around the school, we hit a one-way road that led to an alternative route that added an extra ten minutes, and our driver wanted to off-load us quickly. He kept saying, “This is De La Salle” and I kept repeating back, “Dominga Street. Dominga Street”. Not my finest hour, but at least I will never forget the address of this particular museum.

And I will also remember it because the narrow entrance to the museum on Dominga Street hides the shape and form of the building. Until you are deep inside the exhibition areas and you have turned around a few times, it is difficult to appreciate just how extremely huge and extremely white the gallery space is with its very high ceilings. We were there to view works by visiting Filipino-American artist Paul Pfeiffer, and were initially rather disorientated and confused and could not make sense of what was in front of us. We walked through the gallery and wondered where the exhibits were. Fortunately, we were joined by one of the museum staff who kindly provided us with some background and a very handy pamphlet which detailed the exhibits. Then I started to “see” things differently, such as the fact that the projector on the far wall and the screen that we had just walked past were themselves in fact art objects.

While writing this post I went to the museum’s home page (see link) where it states, “designed by local architect Ed Calma [see this article about his famous architect father and himself link] this space is the only one in the Philippines that approximates an international contemporary art museum and gallery.” From here I checked out the local architect’s homepage and was interested to discover that his team was responsible for the Philippine Pavilion at the 2005 Expo in Kasugai, Aichi, Japan. We visited an old friend of ours who kindly took us to the expo. I am pretty sure we visited the pavilion briefly.  Its coconut design theme won recognition that year, and the neck massages given to visitors were very popular. 

Back to 2015, my favourite display on this Thursday afternoon was “24 Landscapes”, the series of photographs shown above of Santa Monica beach. Looking at them they look ordinary, albeit a little grainy. The pamphlet explains that the original prints were some of the last taken of Marilyn Monroe in 1962 and the artist has, “turn[ed] a typical Hollywood portrait into typical landscape. The loss is therefore not simply that of the central image, but our ability to instantly recognize and assign meaning.” My friend seemed to like the “Morning After the Deluge” shown below where a half of a sunset and of a sunrise were filmed and put together to make one image. Both of these exhibits were seen to their best advantage on the wide expanses of wall.

The title piece of the show, “Vitruvian Figure” was a complex structure designed by Pfeiffer but assembled under his direction. Joining so many small components together must have been a massive undertaking and would have required a team of workers. Perhaps he should have been named as “architect” instead? This contemporary art pushes the definition of art in provocative ways that I do not understand. I figure sometimes it is enough to just go and look at new forms and not worry about any rhyme or reason.

Going home it took patience to coax one of the more elusive species of taxi, the “empty-taxi” to come close and allow itself to be boarded. But one eventually accepted our challenge. Life in the wild of Manila is unpredictably replete with colourfully crossed wires and detours. Exploring it requires strength and courage. After every time I think to myself, I am pleased to be going back now to my orderly and quiet apartment. I am content to stay home, at least I think I am for awhile, but that is only until the next curiosity catches my eye and entices me out of my safety zone again.

Thank goodness for friends who say, sure Jodi, I’ll join you.  xxx

The (Pasig) River of Our Dreams

A shot above of the Makati-Mandaluyong Bridge taken last Sunday when we headed out for an afternoon bicycle ride near the Pasig River. 

Our route (see map to the right) took us from our Legaspi Village residence via Salcedo Village and past our old apartment building on Tordesillas Street where I lived in 2011-12 while Saburo was in Aparri and our Grand Tower apartment where we dwelled ten years earlier. We then made our way onto Kalayaan Avenue where we checked out the ongoing development of the Trump Tower at Century City (The map shown to the right is not strictly accurate as the blue line in Google Maps was uncooperative during our last meeting, but we did turn off Makati Avenue). Lots of new shops in the area but the tower is not quite looking like the artist's mock up simulation yet (see link). I am quite fascinated by Donald's choice of site for his premiere project in the Philippines and I am continually drawn to the vicinity to see if any further progress in the works has revealed some hereto hidden charm.

We kept cycling until we reached the Pasig River where we crossed over the Makati-Mandaluyong Bridge, took some small streets which led us to Boni Avenue where we then travelled towards Makati via Edsa highway (a very scary downhill stretch) and returned along the riverside J.P. Rizal Street before we turned into Barangay Guadalupe Viejo (for a definition of barangay, see link) and unexpectedly found the Nuestra Señora de Gracia Church, more commonly known as the Guadalupe Church. It was fortunate we found the church as it was the kind of territory where you needed a reason to be. We could tell when we had entered a dead-end street because people's eyes would look suspiciously at us questioning what we were doing in their neighbourhood. We took care not to stray too far from the beaten path.

The bright yellow sign in the photo to the left is referring to the new-looking section of the revetment wall behind it which was completed in 2013 as part of Phase II of the Pasig-Marikina River Channel Improvement Project. My Engineer is currently working both further upstream and further downstream along the river on Phase III of the same project. I am not sure why there is a completed section in the middle, it may be that previous sections were damaged by the weather or the design was modified (i.e. improved) over time, but the Phase III works are scheduled to be completed in June 2017. Phase IV is planned for additional improvement works.

In writing this blog post I realised there were gaps in my understanding regarding the scope of the project (remembering that I am neither engineer nor lawyer), I conducted a quick internet search which uncovered several documents that helped to fill these in a little. The first document I found was a supplemental environmental impact statement which described the works and their location in fairly easy-to-read terms (see link). It was prepared in 2011 by the Asian Environmental Compliance Network whose members are national and sub-national agencies (see link).

As per my own limited comprehension, the project has been requested by the Department of Public Works and Highways (DPWH) (see link) i.e. they are the Client. Funding is being provided by an Overseas Development Assistance (ODA) loan from the Japanese government. The Japan International Cooperation Agency (JICA) (see link) appears to act as the implementor of the loan and monitors the design of the project etc. The construction company is the Contractor (a.ka. the company that employs my engineer), and lastly (but most definitely, not the least) the Consultant acts as the umpire to make sure the project is being administered in accordance with the contract documents.

I also came across this detailed document circa 2011 prepared by DPWH which outlines a resettlement action plan (see link) for the people affected by the project. It included the questions asked during information meetings with the people which were particularly interesting to read.

The riverside footpath in the above photograph looks very attractive. Behind this spot, and closer to the bridge we had just traversed, small groups of young men had congregated to fish. It was a rather sleepy three-o'clock in the afternoon scene with very few people around.

We completed our big loop and were back on the Makati side of the bridge when we were startled by the presence of the magnificent Guadalupe Church in the middle of a regular suburban neighbourhood. In the photograph above I can be seen racing to retrieve my camera and start taking photographs. Yes, it has been located on this site for hundreds of years since 1601 but it is a little out of the way and while it is prominently perched on  the top of a hill, it is not on a  modern day major thoroughfare. Or at least, it is not a place that I often have cause to pass by.

The church was founded by a Spanish Augustinian order a mere seventy years after an apparition of Mary (mother of Jesus) was believed in 1531 to have appeared in front of a man at Tepeyac hill (later this area would become part of Villa de Guadalupe, a suburb of Mexico city). This vision was said to have been a deciding factor in encouraging the reluctant Aztecs to join the church (see link) which would certainly make it a powerful symbol for the Spanish in the newly colonised Philippines. Its pleasing geography meant that for a time, it was designated as the sole recreation house for the religious living in Manila. 

The historical marker shown to the left was attached to the church in 1937 prior to its use as a garrison and headquarters by the Japanese army during WW2. For full details about the history of this building  (see link). Seventy years ago this area witnessed many bloody battles but these days, it serves as a peaceful oasis in the city and has become a popular wedding photography venue (see link).

This final photograph on the right was taken in a vain attempt to convey the surroundings of the proximity of the church. There is a mix of industrial and commercial buildings while the inner section of the barangay is mostly residential. Aside from the church, the other claim to fame for Guadalupe Viejo is that it also is home to the largest wet market in Makati City. 

I wished I could have captured a few more shots but unlike Billy Joel who is stuck on the shore of his River of Dreams (listen to it here) , we had already crossed the river and it was time to move on. I am not sure what we are looking for these days but I do know that we cannot stand still. Even if by accident we end up near a church, at least we will be evolving in some direction. In the meantime, we trucked home, saddle-sore but happy.

           

Christmas in Calatagan, Batangas

This year for something different, we decided to stay in the Philippines over the Christmas break and treat ourselves to a beach resort holiday. We were keen to avoid having to fly anywhere and searched for a hotel we could reach by car. We chose Calatagan, Batangas - partly because the hotel cottages were right on the water, and partly because Google told me it was only 132 kilometres from Manila. The lady at the car hire agency estimated it was a two hour trip. And thus informed, we were all set for a quick journey.

Of course, we were deluded and should have seen the sky opening up and slamming down its contents hard as we left home as the portentous sign it was. The amount of rainfall far exceeded Typhoon Ruby efforts in Manila last December and as we drove through Tagaytay, grey indistinct clouds obscured the famous view of Taal lake. We believed the rain was causing the delay in our progress, but in actual fact, the inclement conditions were probably not to blame.

From 2002 until 2004 we lived in Batangas city where the Engineer was involved with a port development project (see map bottom right), and while we remembered previous visits to this popular summer resort town, it now looks completely unfamiliar, with its many, many more restaurants and many, many more blocks of apartment buildings lining the mere ribbon of a main road that threads itself between the town and the lake. There are no footpaths and the charm of the previously provincial town is somewhat veiled by it having all the trappings of a crowded urban centre, complete with SM department store and Jollibee fast food restaurants.

As an aside, the murky depths of Taal lake are rather interesting as it was previously connected to the sea when a volcanic eruption in the 18th century blocked its only outlet and submerged several towns in the process. It also is one of the few places in the world where freshwater sea snakes can be found. I remember reading a book lent to me by a friend years ago that detailed the evolution of strange fish with legs, but since I cannot recall the name of the book, see here instead for a whiff of a treasure-hunting adventure in this academic's account of his quest to rediscover the location of the sunken towns.

Fortunately, by the time we arrived at our destination the weather had turned and it remained fine hereinafter. The splendid view of the sun setting over the water from our cottage later in the afternoon helped us to switch over to holiday mode pronto.

We had brought our beloved bicycles with us and on Christmas Day, we ventured forth to explore our surroundings. It really was a remote area and we encountered very few other people along the road as we headed further south. This very official-looking sign below piqued my interest. I love a good lighthouse and we have visited several lovely structures in the past, which were built by the Spanish in the nineteenth century.

 

I was very disappointed when we made it to the gate and found a "Keep Out" sign and barbed wire (see photo to the right). I poked my camera through the holes in the fence to sneak a few photos (I also looked for a larger gap that I could fit through but without success). The red brick, wrought iron, and the climbing pink bougainvilleas are so pretty, and there was bound to be a fabulous view over the ocean on the other side. Plus it seems like this is a working light-house whereas the other three lighthouses we have seen have all been all retirees. But it was not to be...

As Murphy's law would dictate, the trek in had come at some cost. A tree branch with a sharp, spiny thorn had heartlessly pierced my back tire. Usually when I cycle here, I keep a sharp lookout for nails from construction sites and I had never considered that a plant could be so savage. And the muddy track was rather intense which made carrying the bike out a less physically-demanding task. I thought it was only me that was down and out for the count, but the Engineer's bike had also suffered a similar fate.

While sugar cane is sticky enough, it was not going to be enough to rescue us....

But although it looks dire here, we were not that far from help. We walked for about a kilometre asking along the way for a vulcanising shop. As I write, I wonder if my sister-in-law remembers the Engineer explaining this to her when she visited the Philippines :-)

One man was quite helpful saying there was a place further along but was stumped for an answer when we asked him what the colour of the building was. We realised why when we found the small building a little later. It was of the concrete-block description, and neither a building really, nor a colour.

The important thing was that they had equipment to repair tyres for motorbikes. It is quite probable that this was the first time they had repaired bicycle tyres. Most of the traffic on the road we had encountered had been of the motorcycle and car variety. We waited while the younger people (there were about 6 and two babies at least) went and fetched an older man, who seemed to be the only one with the requisite knowledge. It was quite fascinating to see the low-tech repurposed heavy shallow object having something put inside and set alight and then placed over a flattened San Miguel beer can to heat the rubber. The down side of finding a shop with a motorbike speciality was that their attachment to pump air into the tyre was not compatible with our tyres. I took a bumpy tricyle ride back to the hotel to collect our bike pump (usually it is too big to carry with us, and yes, I will be looking for a small portable pump next trip to the land of many gadgets).

About an hour later, we were right as rain. The cost of the tricycle trip to get the pump was more than the charge for the repair for two bikes. We added a little more and wished them all a "Merry Christmas".

Post script: I recounted the puncture repair saga to my dad who knew exactly what I was talking about when I mentioned about beer cans and heavy objects being put on fire. And he even sympathised with me regarding the pump attachment. He told me how when he was young how they always had to carry around a puncture repair kit in their cars with a clamp similar in shape to what I had just described, and how they needed so many different pump attachments all the time because the one they had was never the right one. And then we moved forward in time and he remembered all the punctures he repaired on our bicycles when we were kids in Merredin, and yes dear brother, you were the star performer in this story!

Bahay Nakpil-Bautista, Quiapo

This old house oozing with character and our Museum Volunteers of the Philippines (MVP) (link) tour destination for the month of November is the Bahay Nakpil-Bautista. Bahay is the Filipino word for house and Nakpil and Bautista are the names of the families who lived in the home. The original owner, Dr. Ariston Bautista bought the home in 1914. He studied for his medical degree in Spain (link), and was a contemporary of the famous author José Rizal (link) and painter Juan Luna (link).

But the main attraction of the house lies in the fact that it was resided in by the woman featured in the photograph above, Gregoria de Jesus. She was the second wife of Andres Bonifacio (link) the founder of the revolutionary movement called the Katipunan and shown in the copy of the engraving below. This group fought for the independence of the Philippines from Spain at the end of the nineteenth century. Gregoria was closely involved in this struggle to achieve freedom and she wrote later of her experiences (link).

Bonifacio died in battle at the tender age of thirty-three. Gregoria re-married a year later. Her second husband was Bonifacio's general Julio Nakpil (link) (and also the brother-in-law of Ariston Bautista), and they went on to have eight children of whom only six survived, which must have been an adventure of a different kind.

The current generation of Nakpil family members are very pro-active in the maintenance of their treasured ancestral home. They have created a foundation and a website (link). Plus, it is open to the public and is one of the few historical sites I have seen in the Philippines that provides guides and detailed signage outlining the significance of what is on view. On the ground floor of the house, there are a large number of panels on the walls explaining the history of the neighbourhood area of Quiapo, the architectual style of the house (see above photograph), and the family tree. It is a really informative place to visit and well worth your time.

Throughout the house there is a noticeable amount of geometric design like you can see in the staircase shown in the pictures above and below. The house was built when the Art Nouveau style which eschewed surface decoration was popular in Europe.

The wall dividers at the top of the walls near the ceilings have distinctive patterns that resemble flowers.

The design on these chairs (below) influenced the design of the walls, staircase ...

... and the ventallila grills (below).

The painting below is called, "The Parisian Life" (link) was painted by Juan Luna in 1892. It was originally owned by Ariston Bautista and he is depicted in the painting as the man who is looking towards the woman. The man in the middle is José Rizal and the man on the far left is the painter himself. The posture of the woman is said to have been posed deliberately to represent a map of the Philippines.

The chair below is from a different home which was due to be demolished. The owners donated it to the Bahay because they wished to preserve it as it had been used by Rizal during a visit to their home. The style of carving is distinctively ornate and differs considerably from the rest of the Art Nouveau furniture in the house.

We were fortunate to be personally guided around the home by one of the family members, Ms. Bobbi Santos-Viola.  

The house has some beautiful items on display. 

It is easy to imagine it during its glory days. Here is an early photograph...

And here is the "now" photograph.

It is a shame that the waterways look like this now, particularly as the name, "Quiapo" comes from the water plant "kiyapo". It is a testament to the family's hard work that the house remains intact under such difficult conditions.

But perhaps they had a little help?

Or maybe it is the spirit of Gregorio de Jesus looking over them? The picture below shows the entrance to the room dedicated in her honour.

I am sure she must be very proud that her family has worked so hard to keep the memory of her achievements alive. It was a privilege to visit such a place. I hope it stands for another hundred years!