Escolta Street is one of the oldest streets in Manila and it is a name that often crops up in conversations about the good ol' days and in literature set during pre-WW2 (see here for old photographs that convey the style it epitomised). In case you were wondering, Lungsod ng Maynila translates as "City of Manila". My friend and I ventured here the other day because I was interested to see an exhibit by an artist who has been sponsored by the Australian Embassy (amongst other organisations). Although it is less than ten kilometres from my residence, the traffic flow is quite unpredictable and as far as I can recall, this was my first visit to this historic part of the city.
It was the last day of the exhibit by Fiona Gavino who is based in Fremantle, Western Austalia. Her work "seeks to highlight the relationship between the material cultural traditions of rattan and basket weaving and the value of tradition in identity." The exhibit was set up in a shop window facing the street reminiscent of a department store display. The location of her artworks is part of a concerted effort to revitalise this area of town by holding artist residencies by an organisation called 98B (see here for more). She was not in her office so we set off for a stroll to explore, very appropriate as this was the done thing to do in the day in Escolata.
A little further along I came across more activity by 98B in the form of a seminar being conducted in a shell of an old department store building. Posters advertising a "Future Market" with artisan goods on sale hung from the pillars. It is fair to say that the street has definitely left its more affluent days behind it, but there is a faint promise of rejuvenation lingering in the air.
The edifices along this street where it is said that the earliest skyscrapers were built in the Philippines stand out. It must have been a bustling hub of activity and very pretty before its original cobblestones (imported from Hong Kong) were paved over and cars took over the streets. Binondo has the nickname of "China town" because this was the area where the Spanish rulers permitted ethnic Chinese immigrants to settle (more here for those interested). But from what I have learned via the Internet, Escolta Street was reserved for European businesses only (not sure if this is correct or not). What is true is that the more famous area of China town is situated a few streets away.
This is the old Capitol theater with its Art Deco plasterwork on the outside walls and situated opposite the exhibit.
And as we started to walk, I noticed the building we were passing had a very elaborate facade and there was an open lobby with old photographs hanging on the walls. It turned out to be the Calvo Building, which is well known for being built in 1938 (and is therefore considered to be an "old" building in a city which was extensively bombed during WWII). The Calvo family were of Spanish origin and the family coat of arms was prominently displayed next to these photographs.
This photograph is dated 1938 and the Calvo daughter is seated third from the left. I looked at this photograph and immediately concluded it has been taken at a debutante ball. I mentioned this to my friend who is not familiar with the custom and then spent some time explaining what exactly a deb ball was.
Expanding upon the origins of this practice to my friend, reminded me of the Georgette Heyer novels I read when I was younger set in the eighteenth century and of my mum who attended her own deb ball in the mid-sixties in Tasmania and who wanted me two decades later to be a deb also. It was not something that appealed to me at the time. In my mum's case, she was presented to a member of the Catholic Church, perhaps the local bishop, when she made her coming out and there is a photograph in our home of her standing in front of a solemn gentleman wearing a cap. I imagine that perhaps had I been interested, I would have been formally introduced to our local Member of Parliament in our small country town. In days of yore, it signalled that a female was ready for marriage, something I am sure that had I acted upon would have horrified my mother. For my mum, she reacted a few years later by taking matters into her own hands and going on a working holiday to the opposite side of the country, where she met my dad and married, and never returned to live in her birthplace. Since I virtually did the same thing at around the same age, I have no comment.
Over the years, I have listened to young women describing their "debut" party in the Philippines. It seems to be a more wide-spread custom here whereas in Australia, talking about a debutante ball has an old-fashioned ring to it. Read here for background about a typical debut party in the Philippines. I personally cannot imagine having a party where I asked eighteen male family members and friends to give me a flower and dance with me. I am pretty sure I would not have been able to make up the necessary numbers when I was eighteen.
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This is the Regina building built in 1934 and designed by Andres Luna de San Pedro (the son of painter Juan Luna). It has a stately and elegant presence. We were there on a sunny and hot day which is perfect for taking photos.
Under the eaves of these old buildings is a regular neighbourhood where people go about their business. There are the same ambulatory vendors you see all over the country selling local fruit and vegetables. They live a precarious existence and can be moved on at any time by the authorities.
Here was another first for me. The young gentlemen wearing the bright blue vest is taking the blood pressure of the seated vendor. He is working for an anti-hypertension NGO and visits weekly. The cost: ten pesos (￥25, AUD0.24, USD0.23). The toddler to the left was happily sucking a plastic wrapper picked up from the street just a few minutes prior to this photograph being taken.
There was construction work for a building underway and we walked by a number of people sleeping on the street. This woman and her daughter are probably the family of a casual day worker on the building site. This little girl looked so happy playing with her mother's clothing.
We walked back to my friend's car and her driver told her that the artist had returned while we were away and that she had a lot of tattoos, something that is still considered to be a little racy in the Philippines and of enough note to be mentioned as an identifying feature.
About to climb into the car, a group of young people all wearing matching t-shirts caught our eye as they were leaving the Calvo building. Curious we inquired about their purpose for the visit, and they replied they were here with their review centre. I would have loved to have been a fly on the wall as they commented about the photographs adorning the lobby walls. Much closer in age to the daughter of the Calvo family, could they identify with her, I wonder?
