Pinoy Kasi
Quiapo oracle
By Michael Tan
Philippine Daily Inquirer
First Posted 01:54:00 01/09/2009
Filed Under: Places, Human Interest
The title says it all: “Quiapo: Heart of Manila.” Edited by Fernando Nakpil Zialcita and published by the Ateneo de Manila University Press in 2006, the anthology of articles deals with many facets of Manila’s Quiapo district, including the iconic Black Nazarene (whose feast is celebrated today), the curious religious objects sold around the church, and the sadly neglected historical houses.
But even with 493 pages of rich narratives, you’ll find that much more is waiting to be documented—in print and on film—about Quiapo as the heart of Manila.
Quiapo is the heart of Manila because it means so much to so many people, and in different ways. Far from being a relic of the past, Quiapo is the place to read the signs of the times, as well as the signs of times to come—in other words, an oracle. I’m not talking about the fortune-tellers in front of the basilica, but, simply, everyday life and its signs of what the future might hold.
Intrigued? Permit me a bit of nostalgia about Quiapo to explain why it can tell us so much about the future.
Chinese and Muslims
My earliest memories of Quiapo are associated with a small school on Castillejos Street. This was the Quiapo Anglo-Chinese School, where my mother taught for a few years and my sister and I would occasionally tag along.
“Quiapo Anglo,” now renamed the Philippine Scholastic Academy, was actually the first Chinese school in the Philippines. It dates back to 1899, set up by the first Chinese consul-general in the country. The school marked the start of a new era for local Chinese who anticipated that many of them would be staying in the country for a long time, maybe even a life time, raising families while preserving their Chinese-ness. Many Chinese schools followed through the years (Ilo-ilo’s Chinese Commercial School was actually the second, in 1912) and today these schools serve non-Chinese as well, often with very high academic standards.
In the 19th and into the mid-20th century, Quiapo was home to many of the Filipino upper classes. Read Gilda Cordero Fernando’s “The Last Full Moon” for a glimpse into Quiapo’s prewar glories. But even in the early 20th century, an exodus had begun for the upper classes out of Quiapo and into Malate and Ermita and later New Manila.
Through the years, Quiapo became more and more of a home, and a commercial area, for the masses, almost a site for testing the market for new businesses. Among my childhood memories is of a small shoe store on Carriedo Street. Who would have known that from this small ShoeMart store would grow an empire of malls and real estate ventures and Banco de Oro (which, if you haven’t noticed, has bought up Equitable PCI Bank)? The “taipan” behind ShoeMart, Henry Sy, had very humble beginnings in Quiapo. Already 12 years old when he migrated to the Philippines from Fujian, China, Sy enrolled in Grade 1 in Quiapo Anglo.
Quiapo’s streets followed the old Chinese pattern of segmented businesses, each street known for particular consumer goods. Raon used to be the place to go if you wanted state-of-the-art sound equipment. They were always the first to carry the latest hi-fi, stereo, cassettes, Betamax, etc. Today, some of the businesses have moved on to the malls with larger, sleeker shops but Raon lives on, providing cheap goods for the masses, as well as some of the older stuff, Betamax tapes, for example, or VHS cleaners, that you can’t find elsewhere.
The transfer of many Chinese businesses out of Quiapo (remember Shantung in Echague, now on West Avenue?) marked the transition from the old Chines-Filipino era, associated with Binondo and Quiapo, into more geographically dispersed “Tsinoy” (Tsinong Pinoy) communities and identities.
Mind you, Quiapo continues to carry another kind of Chinese imprint, this time of new migrants from China. Many of the businesses there have mainland Chinese capital, selling very cheap goods, from toys to cell phones, to the masses. Thus Quiapo remains a business hub and a testing ground for new markets.
Quiapo’s demographics are constantly changing because it is a haven for new migrants. One major transformation in the last half decade or so has been the establishment of a Muslim community in the area.
The Golden Mosque’s inauguration in 1971 demonstrated how large the Muslim community had grown, and today, Quiapo shows how Christians and Muslims can live together quite harmoniously. I should mention that Arlegui and the area of the mosque is only one of the Muslim areas. Other streets in Quiapo are much more integrated, with Muslims and Christians living together.
Times change, but Quiapo predicts what changes will endure. There’s a well-known pagoda that sticks out of Quiapo’s skyline, built by a wealthy Filipino businessman who was captivated by the pagoda’s design. Usually, the architectural designs of the rich end up being imitated by the middle-class. Not so with the pagoda, which was just too different. Even in neighboring Binondo and Chinatown, the occasional pagoda is more likely to be part of a temple, rather than a residence.
Plaza Miranda
I also remember Quiapo as a hub of political change. Plaza Miranda, in front of the Quiapo basilica, was where, as elections approached, political parties would hold their “miting de avance” final campaign rally, cheered on by the crowds as politicians dispensed promises and more promises.
On Aug. 21, 1971, as a strong opposition Liberal Party held its miting de avance, grenades went off in the night, killing and maiming dozens. Marcos suspended the writ of habeas corpus. Martial law followed a year later.
Today, the political rallies are conducted in various parts of Metro Manila and reflect the way the movements for change have shifted away from the big political parties to the various cause-oriented organizations.
But the plaza and Quiapo remain significant. I go there to get a pulse of where Filipinos are. The huge Mercury Drugstore near the basilica is always full, but the “Quiapo Medical Center” (my name for the vendors of medicinal plants and religious objects, as well as the fortune-tellers) thrives too, all the way up to the sales of abortifacients, beneath a Catholic Shrine to the Unborn.
The paradoxes of Quiapo should not be surprising. They only reflect the way the country’s growing problems of poverty and economic inequities can drive people to a mad search for cures and panaceas. The reminders of this poverty surround you in Quiapo, almost consuming you as you descend into its bowels, into the underpass with its vendors and beggars and cheaper and cheaper copies of copied DVDs. The despair is both overwhelming and ominous, and each time I go, emerging from the underpass’ heat and stench, I think, surely the Filipino deserves more relief than DVDs and “anting-anting” (amulets and charms).
We need to keep hoping that someday we will witness a Quiapo renaissance. When that happens, Quiapo being an oracle of sorts, it will be a sign of the country moving on, with better leaders, to better times.
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Email: mtan@inquirer.com.ph
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