A Sigh for Old Manila

1/21/2009

Have you ever seen gold in its raw form, a diamond in the rough, or an heirloom piece among a pile of junk? It may not be obvious to the jaded eye, but in the midst of the city of Manila, it is certainly there. That's what I see whenever I visit old Manila. Last weekend, I accompanied my daughter to the Binondo, Escolta, and Sta. Cruz areas in Manila.  Thankfully, it was a weekend, so the traffic was lighter; and at around 6:30am, there were less people about than usual. At that time of day, the structures were more noticeable. Unfortunately, the metro aides had not yet finished their routine, so that the roadways were littered with trash. Because of the lack of public toilets, I saw street urchins doing their thing on the sidewalks. I could only sigh in desperation.

Traces of the Old City

However, traces of the architectural lines of the old city could still be glimpsed, such as in a few fountains with fine, though blackened, stonework, some pockets of public parks with century old trees, the ever-imposing churches and quaint Spanish-inspired houses. These are the gems that can still be perceived, but only if you look closely. Sadly, what is left of our early architecture is coated in grime, swathed in electric cables, and obscured by billboards. These are genuine antique structures which show Manila's grandeur, now long forgotten. The plazas are still standing, but could hardly be appreciated because of the traffic, the noise, the pollution, the signage, and the garbage. Some have been demoted to being merely transportation depots. They have been neglected due to unrestrained commercialism.

If your intention is to shop, there are still a lot of interesting places in downtown Manila, such as the Tutuban Station, re-developed and given a new lease (and role) in life, the bustling handicrafts market under a historic bridge (Ilalim ng Tulay), and the once-upon-a-time upscale Escolta. But these are unappetizingly masked by electric cables, signboards, and soot.

There were two construction materials introduced by the American forces during the war that could be said to have practically wiped out our local architecture. These are galvanized iron sheets and plywood. If these materials had not been introduced and allowed to flood the market, most of our roofing could still be made of clay rather than unsightly tin. Our roofscape would be quaint terra cotta instead of that heat-absorbing, rust-prone metal that undoubtedly contributes to global warming. Our walls would have been made more of bricks and stone, instead of cement; our doors probably made of solid wood and not painted plywood.

But history has already been written and there is no point in crying over spilt milk. Be consoled that the gem is still there, though soiled, pockmarked, and buried in rubbish. It is up to us, hopefully enlightened ones, to redeem our heritage, revive the grand structures that are still standing, and vow to maintain this historical city. With better maintenance, the area could become more pedestrian- and shopper- friendly to a wider market, enticing both local and foreign patrons. Steps could be taken to improve the ecological balance in the surroundings by putting more plants and trees and reviving the waterways. Only if we do our part—by not haphazardly disposing of trash or posting bills anywhere and by electing officials who have the will to translate the vision of a grand Manila into a reality—can the sigh for our city be one of pride and pleasure.