My very first blogspot blog was posted May 28th 2005.
Wow.
Thursday, June 19, 2008
449!
This is my 449th Blog post at http://mikesbuggedblog.blogspot.com (my multiply blog is a mirror of my blogspot blog actually, but I only started mirroring in mid 2006 so not all 449 are in multiply.)
Medieval Map of the Philippines
Insulae Philippinae ex Autographo Manilae Ao 1734 jussu regio per Don Fernandum Valdes Tamon,
General Fernando Valdes Tamon was a Spanish General who made some spectacular descriptions of architectural structures all over the Philippine archipelago. He probably used this map of the Philippines by Murillo Velarde dated circa 1734. It's amazing how, despite their lack of charting tools and instruments, the map is a fairly accurate representation of how the Philippines is geographically.General Fernando Valdes Tamon has authored accurate architectural descriptions of fortifications found in Capiz during their existence, many of which are gone now.
Wow.
Capiz in History: Watchtower fortifications in Barra and Dumulog Capiz
The Agustinian Friars, now inexistent in my home province, were probably the founding fathers of present day civilization in my country. I wonder how many families were fathered by errant Friars who strayed the path.
Before I wander to some other topic, the Agustinians are said to have ordered watchtower fortifications over hilly cliffs overlooking the sea to protect the township.
Wow.
Thanks to the blog owner of Muog.wordpress.om who has been diligently posting these valuable historical descriptions of past Architecture in my hometown.
http://muog.wordpress.com/2008/01/28/watchtowers-of-capiz-•-barangay-dumulog-and-barra-roxas-city/
It's a big pity, no pictures or drawings exist of how things used to be.
sigh
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Capiz in History: Nipa Point Fortification in Barangay Culasi, Roxas City
I am not entirely sure, but I think this is referring to the little fortress/ watch keep over at fordspoint, a hilly attachment to the Panay mainland, which survives to this day. As a kid, we used to have picnics around the fortress and myself and my neighborhood pals would play make-believe games of knights and dragons around it, alongside the ruins of a seaside-cliff mansion, owned by the Fords (a Spanish family who was married into by an American engineer) who used to own the Sugar Mill in Sto. Nino, Dumalag Capiz.
One of a small number of coastal defenses of Capiz. This trapezoidal fort is built on a promontory facing the sea and Mantalinga Island to the east. The Augustinians established the town of Capiz (Roxas City) inland along the northern bank of the Pan-ay River; the principal fortification of Capiz was a triangular wall built beside the church located some three kilometers from the shore. The presence of a fortification at such a distance from the main settlement must have meant that these defenses were built primarily as outposts from which warnings of an impending attack could be relayed to the town, rather than as defensible positions.
Until the 1950s, the area between the poblacion and the sandy shores three kilometers north of the Roxas City (formerly Capiz) poblacion was swamp and heavily forested with mangrove. The swamps reached up to Barangay Tanza, about 200 meters northwest of the present Cathedral of Capiz. This would have made attacks from the northwest difficult and dangerous as the marauders would have to disembark and negotiate through the forest where they could be easily ambushed. The most logical approach to the poblacion was through Pan-ay River which empties into Libas Bay, west of the poblacion.
Both the Capiz Province website (www.capiz.gov.ph) and the Roxas City site (elgu.ncc.gov.ph/ecommunity/roxascity) claim that the fortifications of Capiz were built “to repel the invading Moros (Muslims) and Portuguese colonizers”. The claim is not entirely accurate. If the fort at Nipa Point was built in 1814, the Portuguese no longer threatened Spanish rule as Portugal ceased to be a political force of great significance in the Far East. The rivalry between Spain and Portugal reached its height in the 16th century; by the 17th Portugal was no longer a power player and the Dutch replaced the Portuguese as Spain’s most important rival in maritime trade by the century.
Capiz in HIstory: Description of a Fortification in Roxas City circa 1738
Came across this historical description of a military Fortification in Capiz, Capiz that used to occupy in the 1700s where the present Day Roxas City Hall now stands. Wowww. If only we can retrieve some drawings/ sketches. Wow.
Here is the historical description of what once stood.
===================================================
The 1738 Valdes Tamon report records the plan for a fortification at Capiz. The church and convento built parallel to each other formed the western and eastern flanks of a quadrilateral enclosure, built by linking the convento and the church with a wall. This structure forms the base of the triangular fort of wood trunks (estacada). A circular structure, probably a tower was built at northeastern corner and at the apex of the triangle. The church entrance was protected by twin towers and on the eastern side. Valdes Tamon describes the condition of the fort as follows: “It is shaped like an isosceles triangle, with a 453-foot enclosure, with the side adjacent to the church as a base, while a tower at the western corner of the fort flanks its two other sides. It is built of stakes with an embankment, but is so deteriorated and exposed to enemy attack that sentries have to be permanently on duty close beside the fort to safeguard it. This, in addition to the limited capacity of the storerooms housing the royal property has made it necessary to build an extension and do repairs and improvements on the materials and buildings themselves, as is shown on the yellow lines on the plan, on account of the need for this garrison to maintain its relative strength” (VT [71]).
The plan attached to the report shows that the improvement would have given the fortification a star-type bastion plan. A legend on the plan indicates that projected work (obra intentada) was to be built of stone and mortar (cal y canto) for its greater durability and strength. Besides the new structure was to be more spacious to allow room for the royal warehouses.
The same plan indicates that within the perimeter of the palisade were jail,casa real (town hall) and the royal storehouses.
Nothing remains of the fortification nor of the older church and convento. The church was replaced by a neoclassical structure from 1854-1877 and the fort demolished at an unknown date. The church was reconstructed in 1954 after being damaged during World War II. The adjacent Roxas City Hall began as a casa real, but was expanded during the American colonial period. A fire in the 1980s destroyed the city hall but it was rebuilt but maintained the atrium at the center of the structure, following the style of the colonial period.
(source: http://muog.wordpress.com/2008/01/28/capiz-fortification-•-roxas-city-capiz/ )
Wednesday, June 18, 2008
Illustrious Capizenos of Capiz Past: Pedro Gil
Who would have known this guy, Pedro Gil, whose street named after him, that traverses Taft Avenue is a townmate? I didn't know who he was until now. hehe
==================
Pedro Gil
From Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia
- For the Manila LRT station, see Pedro Gil LRT Station
Pedro Gil (born November 13, 1889, Capiz - died January 5, 1965) was a physician, crusading journalist and legislator in the Philippines. Pedro Gil lived life of service in different distinguished roles - as a labor leader, as a doctor of medicine, as a crusading newspaperman, as a social worker, and as a conscientious legislator. He was born in Capiz on November 13, 1889, the youngest of the seven children of Pedro Gil Sr., a Spanish government employee in Capiz and Petra Hernandez. His mother died when he was hardly six months old, and he was brought to Manila and reared in the home of his sisters in Ermita. He was eight years old when his father died.
He was married to Consuelo Cabangis. They had only one child, Patria, who became the wife of Deogracias Puyat, a lawyer.
Student
The Gils were not wealthy, and left no fortune to their children. But in spite of their difficulties, his brothers and sisters managed to send him to the Escuela Normal de San Javier, where he completed a commercial course. How he was able to do that was a story of hardship and sacrifices. To support him through his studies his sisters accepted some sewing work. He himself did odd jobs for the school’s Jesuit priest and so was exempted from paying tuition fees.
Gil next enrolled at the San Juan de Letran, where he eared his Bachelor of Arts degree. He then proceeded to take up medicine at theUniversity of Santo Tomas, supporting himself by teaching at the Instituto de Burgos in the evening. In due time, he finished the course, passed the examination given by the Board of Medical Practitioners, and established a clinic which immediately became popular with the masses of Paco and Ermita.
Dr. Gil started his political career as a rabid oppositionist. Even while he was still a student, he was already closely identified with opposition groups. He was an active writer on political subjects and a frequent leader of movements censuring the party then in power for abuses in the government. He once led a strike against Meralco.
[edit]Journalist
Ever eager to reach the masses, he published a newspaper dedicated to the laboring classes, Los Obreros. When it folded, he edited a number of others, like La Nacion. He directed this last newspaper until 1923.
When the Jones Law was still pending in Congress, he organized mass meetings and in a popular manifestation, led in the signing of a manifesto urging the legislative body to include in the said law "a definite date for independence."
[edit]Politician
In 1927, he was elected representative for the south district of Manila on the Democratra party ticket. He became Minority Floor Leader in theHouse of Representatives of the Philippines and distinguished himself as a fiscalizer of the abused and the tyranny of those in power. He was designated member of the 1930 independence mission to the United States and stayed for some time in Washington, D.C. together withSergio Osmeña, Manuel Roxas, Ruperto Montinola, and Emiliano Tria Tirona. This mission is credited with having worked for the passage of the first independence law for the Philippines.
He was elected to the first National Assembly and became chairman of the committee on the city government and several other important committees.
As an assemblyman, he worked for the reduction of public utility rates in the city of Manila, such as those charged by Meralco and the Manila Gas Corporation. He himself presented a test case against them with the Public Service Commission. Arguing that their rates were "boom period" rates and needed to be reduced, he offered comprehensive statistics to show that Manila residents were paying more than they should for gas and electric power services. He stressed that the current rates were too heavy for the poor to shoulder.
Likewise, he pioneered the movement for higher wages for laborers, authoring a bill to this effect.
[edit]Diplomat
Dr. Gil served as envoy to Argentina from 1959 to 1962 and was a recipient of the General San Martin medal, Argentina’s highest diplomatic award.
[edit]References
- www.pedrogil.net (2001). "Who is Pedro Gil?". Press release. Retrieved on 2007-05-05.
source: wikipedia.com
Duffel Bags and the Ces Drilon Saga
Duffel bags
In Zamboanga, Razon also said the release of the captives was “a joint effort of the police, the military and local government officials,” and that no ransom was paid.
When asked about the two duffel bags reportedly transported to Sulu in a Seair plane on Tuesday afternoon, he said: “We are investigating that.”
He said he had instructed Chief Supt. Jaime Caringal, police chief in Western Mindanao, to look into the reported delivery of ransom money.
“We do not know the content of the duffel bags,” Razon said.
But in Malacañang, Executive Secretary Eduardo Ermita said a “small amount” could have been given to the kidnappers as a “token.”
“I’m just being realistic to say that, maybe, there is a small amount [given], but you might not call it ransom. We all know that .... [the kidnappers] have asked for a higher amount. That’s the very reason why they engaged in kidnapping, expecting such [a huge] amount,” he said.
Ermita said the negotiators had pursued the administration’s no-ransom policy. He said Malacañang did not take a role in the actual negotiations, and allowed the local peace and order council—composed of local officials and police and military components in the area—to take the lead.
But he said a ransom demand was to be expected because the captives “stayed in [the bandits’ lair] for some time.”
He pointed out that the kidnappers had to feed Drilon et al. for nine days.
Ermita also denied the reported delivery of money in two duffel bags.
(source: inquirer.net)
Tuesday, June 17, 2008
The Ignacio Families in Roxas City, Capiz
The Ignacio families in Roxas City, Capiz, now in several distinct branches (distantly related up to the 3rd or 4th degrees of consanguinity), are said to trace their roots to two or three Philippine born Spanish brothers who came and settled into the Capiz township in the 1800s by way of Manila or neighboring towns in Luzon.Here is the description of the Escudo (Coat of Arms) of the Ignacio Family used by the progenitors of the present day Capiz Ignacios based from old family archives.
Los Ignacio tiene procedencia de la familia antigua y patronomica Iñigo de Vizcaya, y la casa vizcaína de Iñiguez del lugar de Zaya, en el Valle de Arcentales, la montañesa del Valle de Toranzo (Cantabria), y la de Álava, traen:
Escudo cuartelado: 1º, y 4º, en campo de plata, una cruz floreteada, de sable; y 2º y 3º, en campo de azur, una flor de lis de oro; bordura general de gules con ocho sotueres de oro.
Other Branches of the Family in Spain use a different Coat of Arms as follows:
Escudo de armas: En campo de oro, un aspa de gules pareada con un león rampante de gules que mira al lado siniestro del escudo.
The two heralds are related as another branch of the family based in Aragon, Elche and Alicante used a crest with the same Lion, holding Laurel leaves.
Los Ignacio, procedente de los Iñigo de Aragón, Elche y Alicante; y también los Iñiguez de la casa de Jaca y los de Sarrión, Villarroya de los Pinares y Zaragoza, en Aragón, traen:
En campo de oro, un león rampante, de gules, que lleva en sus manos un ramo, de sinople.
En campo de oro, un león rampante, de gules, que lleva en sus manos un ramo, de sinople.
source: Centro Heraldica Espana
Breaking News: Ces Drilon et al, released
But the 15 million dollar question is: At what cost? Who footed the bill? Yesterday and the day before, conflicting reports were splattered all over the news. Repeatedly, it was reported Ces' family consented to 15 Million.
Reports, just hours before she was released, say that no ransom was paid.
Which is which?
Thank God, Ces et al are saved. They should, however, be strongly admonished, for risking their lives, and the lives of many others by pursuing this lawless group of brigand-terrorists for a news scoop. Why did they have to go there, after several past incidences of kidnappings/ killings of journalists and foreigners.
Imagine the cost our government spent in the negotiation and rescue efforts. Imagine the anxiety.
Ces, 2 others freed
By Cecille Suerte Felipe
Wednesday, June 18, 2008
By Cecille Suerte Felipe
Wednesday, June 18, 2008
ABS-CBN anchor Ces Drilon, her cameraman Jimmy Encarnacion and professor Octavio Dinampo were released at past 11 last night in Sulu by the Abu Sayyaf group that held them captive for over a week. The three hostages were reported to be in good health.
The hostages were reportedly handed over in Talipao, Sulu to the Philippine National Police headed by Senior Superintendent Jule Kasim and Haider “Jun” Isnaji, son of Indanan Mayor Alvarez Isnaji.
The hostages were brought to the
Security was extremely tight, with a convoy of PNP troops escorting the hostages.
Philippine National Police (PNP) chief Director General Avelino Razon Jr. confirmed their release at ten minutes past
There was no confirmation on whether any ransom had been paid, although sources said “money changed hands.”
Razon had earlier stressed the possibility that the three hostages may be released within 24 hours, citing developments in the negotiations.
He said the negotiators led by Mayor Isnaji made no solid promise to the Abu Sayyaf in exchange for the release of the hostages but their persistent efforts apparently paid off.
“The negotiators did not promise anything. The release should have happened earlier but was delayed. Now we are pleased with the positive results we are seeing,” he said.
Razon cited the release of cameraman Angelo Valderama and the kidnappers’ twice moving the deadline for their ransom demand as reasons for his optimism.
“In this latest development, the kidnapping group agreed to free Ces Drilon and company,” Razon said.
With the development, Razon stressed there is no more need to deploy troops to rescue the three hostages.
Earlier yesterday, the Abu Sayyaf agreed to “indefinitely” extend the deadline for the payment of P15 million in ransom and continue negotiations.
Isnaji said the kidnappers also agreed not to harm the hostages.
“Our emissaries were able to convince the captors of Ces to work on other options and extend the deadline,” Isnaji said.
“They have opened the lines for continuous negotiation and promised they will not harm the hostages,” he said.
The Abu Sayyaf on Monday issued an ultimatum and said they would execute the hostages by
Isnaji immediately rushed the emissaries and was able to contact the kidnappers who agreed to “extend” the deadline, citing the current negotiations.
“They said they would behead them. But (yesterday), they are not saying that anymore,” Isnaji said.
After the ultimatum was given Monday, Isnaji said he had been on the phone with the kidnappers around six times, beginning with their first call at
“I said, ‘Maybe you can come up with some proposals besides the money (because) we cannot deliver on that,’” he said. “We have come up with a new idea that we will provide them with something else.”
“What is important right now is we are hoping they would heed our call that we can still work on options other than the very huge ransom,” according to Isnaji.
Isnaji said among the options proposed is to finance the livelihood projects and development programs of the kidnappers.
But Isnaji said Drilon herself revealed over the phone that her abductors have apparently prepared for the worst by tying up Encarnacion and Dinampo.
Worst-case scenario
Security forces are also gearing up for the worst-case scenario even as the deadline for the ransom payment had been extended, giving reprieve to the three hostages under threat of being executed after more than a week in captivity.
Malacañang said the government is already making preparations for a rescue operation.
Press Secretary Jesus Dureza warned that authorities and the public should “not be lulled by the so-called ‘extension’ announced by the kidnappers.”
“While we join friends and relatives of Ces Drilon and her team in expressing relief that nothing untoward happened (yesterday) past the deadline, we encourage the negotiators and all those working on the ground to take advantage of this and pursue a peaceful end to this impasse,” Dureza said.
In a statement, Malacañang said, “The Philippine National Police (PNP) is now making ready for any contingency in relation to the abduction of Ces Drilon et al, by the Abu Sayyaf Group.”
“We are concerned about the general condition of the hostages. We are hopeful that they will be released safely,” the statement said.
Razon said earlier that they have made contingency plans, including the “final and last option” of a full-scale assault and rescue mission by the military should negotiations fail.
Razon stressed though he remains optimistic of the outcome of the negotiations.
He pointed out the extension of the deadline is a positive indication of the peaceful resolution of the hostage crisis.
“But just the same we have prepared for any contingency,” Razon said. “Ground troops are in place, including air and naval assets.”
Razon said they have already pinpointed the general location of the kidnappers and their hostages.
“The plans are in place and they are ready to go if necessary, that is if there is the need to exercise the final option,” according to Razon.
Police have already identified two of the Abu Sayyaf kidnappers and announced a P500,000 reward for each of them.
PNP spokesman Chief Superintendent Nicanor Bartolome told a news conference that Sulayman Patta, who goes by the aliases Amah Ma’as and Abu Haris, and a man named Walid, alias Tuan Wala, have been identified as among the kidnappers.
Bartolome said he could not yet provide additional details about the two bandits pending further information from authorities in Sulu.
“Aside from these (police sketches), the names include others but the confirmation will be based on the validation evaluation counterchecking of information,” Bartolome said.
Armed Forces of the Philippines (AFP) chief Gen. Alexander Yano also said a rescue operation is being prepared.
“That has always been assumed to be an option, they (troops) are (already) there (and) ready, but as I’ve said conditions on the ground will dictate how and when,” Yano said, but refused to elaborate on the conditions that would warrant military action, citing safety and security concerns.
At the moment government troops in Sulu are already coordinating with the police and local officials led by Gov. Sakur Tan.
Yano added that there is no need to augment troops in Sulu since there are sufficient forces already deployed in the region to address the crisis.
The Abu Sayyaf is still holding Drilon, Encarnacion and Dinampo who were abducted last June 8.
Valderama, one of Drilon’s two cameramen, was released last Thursday. Isnaji said Valderama was freed after the kidnappers were paid a “minimal amount” for the hostages’ food and lodging expenses.
The deadline was extended yesterday as the hostages’ families made several tearful appeals on radio for the hostages to be spared.
Television network ABS-CBN said it was doing everything it could to help the hostages and their families through the ordeal, but that the company would not pay ransom because it would embolden kidnap groups.
Yano said the AFP would also ensure the no-ransom policy of the government is fully implemented.
“In fact, ransom is not our assumption, that’s not part of our assumption, we will take necessary action on the basis of what’s obtaining on the ground and not on the payment of ransom or similar concessions,” he said.
The AFP has earlier discouraged the payment of ransom to the Abu Sayyaf, as the money could be used to finance the group’s terrorist activities.
The al-Qaeda-linked Abu Sayyaf is among the most notorious of the terrorist groups in the world. It has been linked to several bombing incidents and kidnapping of local and foreign personalities, making the southern
for tourists. –With Roel Pareño, Paolo Romero, James Mananghaya, Jaime Laude, Christina Mendez, AP
Monday, June 16, 2008
Capiz in History: Excerpts from a Thomasite Teacher's Book in Capiz in the 1900s - Part I
I chanced upon a book written by Mary Helen Fee about her memoirs as a Thomasite schoolteacher assigned in Capiz, Capiz in the 1901-1910 or thereabouts. This is significantly important for me and my family as we are from Roxas City (formerly Capiz, Capiz).
Reading the book provides many familiar descriptions of places, traditions and practices, even of families. She describes Capiz as an Aristocratic town. Wow, aristocracy indeed existed in Roxas City, before the Americans came. And contrary to general belief that in the Philippines, the natives were not taught how to speak in Spanish, her narratives and experiences show us throughout the book, that even her houseboy and maidservants spoke Spanish.
She also describes the jewelry of the women (pearls as big as half an egg in size, sparkling huge diamonds, and women's finery and clothing made of fine lace. All this in Capiz, in Roxas City.
She does not mention names in her book, but I am pretty sure, she describes the ancestors of many a friend or townmate, or even my own, in some instances. Some descriptions are unflattering, but some are amazing.
Read on if you have patience, but I got hooked to this short book.
This is part V in her book, her journey from Manila to Capiz. The first parts detailed her voyage from the United States, to Hawaii, and to Manila. This excerpt describes her Romblon and Iloilo leg, including arrival in Capiz.
Wow!
CHAPTER VI - From Manila to Capiz
I Am Appointed to a School at Capiz, on Panay Island--We Anchor at the Lovely Harbor of Romblon--The Beauty of the Night Trip to Iloilo--We Halt There for a Few Days--Examples Showing That the Philippines Are a "Manana" Country--Kindness of Some Nurses to the Teachers--An Uncomfortable Journey from Iloilo to Charming Capiz.
In due time our appointments were made, and great was the wrath that swelled about the Exposition Building! The curly-haired maiden who had fallen in love with a waiter on the Thomas wept openly on his shoulder, to the envy of staring males. A very tall young woman who was the possessor of an M.A. degree in mathematics from the University of California, and who was supposed to know more about conic sections than any woman ought to know, was sent up among the Macabebes, who may in ten generations arrive at an elementary idea of what is meant by conic sections. Whether she was embittered by the thought of her scintillations growing dull from disuse or of scintillating head axes, I know not, but she made little less than a tragedy of the matter. The amount of wire-pulling that had been going on for stations in Manila was something enormous, and the disappointment was proportionate.
I had stated that I had no choice of stations, was willing to go anywhere, and did not particularly desire to have another woman assigned with me. I had my doubts about the advisability of binding myself to live with some one whom I had known so short a time; and subsequent experience and the observation of many a quarrel grown out of the enforced companionship of two women who never had any tastes in common have convinced me that my judgment was sound. I was informed that my station would be Capiz, a town on the northern shore of Panay, once a rich and aristocratic pueblo, but now a town existing in the flavor of decayed gentility. I was eager to go, and time seemed fairly to drag until the seventh day of September, on which date the boat of the Compania Maritima would depart for Iloilo, the first stage of our journey.
September the seventh was hot and steamy. We had endless trouble getting ourselves and our baggage to the Bridge of Spain, where the Francisco Reyes was lying. Great familiarity has since quite worn away the nervousness which we then felt on perceiving that our watches pointed to half an hour after starting time while we were yet adorning the front steps of the Exposition Building. Local boats never leave on time. From six hours to three days is a fair overtime allowance for them.
We finally arrived at the steamer in much agony and perspiration. The old saying about bustle and confusion was applicable to the Francisco Reyes if one leaves out "bustle." There were no immediate signs of departure, but there were evidences of the eleven o'clock meal. The muchachos were setting the table under an awning on the after-deck. A hard-shell roll with a pallid centre, which tastes like "salt-rising" bread and which is locally known as bescocho, was at each plate together with the German silver knives and spoons. The inevitable cheese was on hand, strongly barricaded in a crystal dish; and when I saw the tins of guava jelly and the bunch of bananas hanging from a stanchion, I had that dinner all mapped out. I had no time, however, to speculate on its constituent elements, because my attention was attracted by the cloth with which the boy was polishing off dishes before he set them down. This rag was of a fine, sooty-black color, and had a suggestion of oil about it as if it had been on duty in the engine-room. The youth grew warm, and used it also to mop his perspiring countenance. I ceased to inspect at that point, and went forward.
Several black and white kids of an inquisitive turn of mind were resting under my steamer chair, which had been sent on board the day before. They seemed to feel some injury at being dispossessed. I guessed at once that we carried no ice, and that the goats were a sea-faring conception of fresh meat. As their numbers diminished daily, and as we enjoyed at least twice a day a steaming platter of meat, garbanzos, peppers, onions, and tomato sauce, I have seen no reason to change my opinion.
Passengers continued to arrive until nearly two o'clock. There were one or two officers with their muchachos, and some twenty or more schoolteachers. Six were women, and we found ourselves allotted the best there was.
We got away about three o'clock, and, after fouling a line over a row of cascos and threatening their destruction, sailed down the Pasig and out into the Bay, We passed Corregidor about sunset, met a heavy sea and stiff wind outside, and I retired from society. This was Saturday night. On Sunday noon we cast anchor in the lovely harbor of Romblon, and, defying sickness, I came on deck to admire.
The harbor at Romblon resembles a lake guarded by mountains which are covered with cocoanut trees clear to their summits. At one end--the end toward the entrance, which no unfamiliar eye can detect--a great plateau mountain called Tablas stretches across the view in lengthened bulk like the sky-line of some submarine upheaval. The waters are gayly colored, shadowed into exquisite greens by the plumy mountains above; and in a little valley lies the white town of Romblon with its squat municipal buildings, its gray old church, and a graceful campanile rising from a grassy plaza. They have dammed a mountain stream, so that the town is bountifully supplied with pure cold water, and with its clean streets and whitewashed buildings, it is a most attractive place.
The inhabitants of Romblon were eager to sell us mats, or petates, the making of which is a special industry there. Their prices had suffered the rise which is an inevitable result of American occupation, and were quite beyond our means. I succeeded afterwards in getting some Romblon mats through a Filipino friend for about one-fifth the price asked that day.
Our stay at Romblon was not lengthy. We got out some time in the late afternoon, and proceeded on our way. I cannot remember whether we occupied all that night and the next day in getting down to Iloilo or whether we made Iloilo in twelve hours. I do remember the night trip down the east coast of Panay, with Negros on the invisible left, and all about us a chain of little islands where the fisher folk were engaged in their night work of spearing fish by torchlight. Dim mountainous shapes would rise out of the sea and loom vaguely in the starlit distance, the curving beaches at their bases outlined by the torches in the bancas till they looked like boulevards with their lines of flickering lamps. I remember that we fell to singing, and that after we had sung everything we knew, an officer of the First Infantry who was going back to his regiment after a wound and a siege in hospital said enthusiastically: "Oh, don't stop. You don't know how it sounds to hear a whole lot of American men and women singing together."
It was somewhere between ten and midnight when a light flashed ahead, and beyond it lay a little maze of twinkles that they said was Iloilo. The anchor chains ran out with a clang and rattle, for our Spanish captain took no chances, and would not pick his way through the Siete Pecadores at night.
The Siete Pecadores, or Seven Sinners, are a group of islands, or rocks--for they amount to little more than that--some six miles north of Iloilo, just at the head of Guimaras Strait. On the east the long, narrow island of Guimaras, hilly and beautifully wooded, lies like a wedge between Panay and Negros. Beyond it the seven-thousand-foot volcano, Canlaon, on Negros, lifts a purple head. On the west lies the swampy foreshore of Panay with a mountain range inland, daring the sunlight with scarpy flanks, on which every ravine and every cleft are sunk in shadows of violet and pink. The water of the straits is glassy and full of jelly-fish, some of the white dome-like kind, but more of the purple ones that float on the water like a petalled flower. Iloilo was a miniature edition of Manila, save that there were more gardens and that there was a rural atmosphere such as is characteristic of small towns in the States. The toy horses and the toy carromatas and quilices were there, and the four-horse wagons with a staring "U. S." on their blue sides. There were the same dusky crowds in transparent garments, the soldiers in khaki, the bugle calls, and the Stars and Stripes fluttering from all the public buildings.
As Iloilo was not well supplied with hotels, we women were barracked in a new house belonging to the American Treasurer, whose family had not yet arrived from the States, We found our old friend, the army cot, borrowed from the military quartermaster. There was a sitting-room well equipped with chairs and tables. Our meals were obtained from a neighboring boarding-house which rejoiced in the name "American Restaurant," and was kept by a Filipina. She was a good soul, and had learned how to make cocoanut balls, so that we bade a glad adieu to the bananas and guava jelly.
Our own particular waitress was a ten-year-old child, who said "hello" and smoked a cigar as long as herself. In a moment of enthusiasm one of our number who was interested in temperance and its allied reforms tipped Basilia a whole Mexican media-peseta. When the reformer became aware of Basilia's predilection for the weed, she wanted her media-peseta back, but Basilia was too keen a financier for that. The media-peseta was hers--given in the presence of witnesses --and she somewhat ostentatiously blew smoke rings when she found the reformer's eye fixed upon her.
At Iloilo we picked up the word tao, which means "man," especially "laboring man," for the Filipinos usually fall back upon the Spanish words caballero and senor to designate the fortunate individuals whose hands are unstained with toil. We had picked up the vernacular of the street carromata in Manila. This is very simple. It consists of sigue, para, derecho, mano, and silla. For the benefit of such readers as do not understand pidgin Spanish, it may be explained that these words signify, respectively, "go on," "stop," "straight ahead," "to the right," and "to the left." The words mano and silla mean really "hand" and "saddle"; I have been told that they are linguistic survivals of the days when women, rode on pillions and the fair incubus indicated that she wished to turn either to the side of her right hand or to the skirt side.
By this time we had begun to understand--just to understand in infinitely small proportion--what the old resident Americans meant when they joked about the Philippines as a manana country. When we inquired when a boat would be in, the reply was "Seguro manana"--"To-morrow for sure." When would it leave? "Seguro manana." Nothing annoys or embarrasses a Filipino more than the American habit of railing at luck or of berating the unfortunate purveyor of disappointing news, or, in fact, of insisting on accurate information if it can be obtained. They are ready to say anything at a minute's notice. A friend of mine in Ilocos Norte once lost a ring, and asked her servant if he knew anything about it. The boy replied instantly, "Seguro raton," which is an elliptical form of "Surely a rat ate it." The boy had not stolen the ring, but he jumped at anything to head off complaint or investigation.
Time is apparently of no value in the Philippines. On the second day of our stay in Iloilo the Treasurer sent up two pieces of furniture for our use, a wardrobe and a table. They were delivered just before lunch, about ten o'clock, and the Treasurer would not be at home to sign for them till nearly one. When I came in from a shopping expedition, I found eight or ten taos sitting placidly on their heels in the front yard, while the two pieces of new furniture were lying in the mud just as they had been dumped when the bearers eased their shoulders from the poles. The noonday heat waxed fiercer, and the Treasurer was delayed, but nobody displayed any impatience. The men continued to sit on their heels, to chew their betel nut, and to smoke their cigars, and, I verily believe, would have watched the sun set before they would have left. In an hour or so the Treasurer appeared, and settled the account, the taos picked up the furniture and deposited it in the house, and the object lesson was over.
In spite of shopping, time hung somewhat heavy on our hands at Iloilo. We made few acquaintances, for there were few civilian women, and the army ladies, so we were informed, looked askance at schoolteachers, and had determined that we were not to be admitted into "society." The army nurses asked us to five o'clock tea, and we went and enjoyed it. They were, for the most part, gentlewomen born, and the self-sacrifice of their daily lives had accentuated their native refinement. I have few remembrances more pleasant than those of the half-hour we spent in their cool sala. As for the tea they gave us and the delicious toast, mere words are inadequate to describe them. We became sensible that the art of cooking had not vanished from the earth. After the garbanzos and the bescochos and the guava jelly, how good they tasted!
In the course of two or three days we were notified that the vapor General Blanco would leave for Capiz on Saturday at five P.M., and some ten or twelve of us, destined for the province of that name, made ready to depart. I was the only woman in the party, but our Division Superintendent, who was personally conducting us and who was having some little difficulty with his charges, assured me that I was a deal less worry to him than some of the men were. I told him that I was quite equal to getting myself and my luggage aboard the Blanco. I had employed a native servant who said he knew how to cook, and I was taking him up to Capiz with an eye to future comfort. Romoldo went out and got a carabao cart, heaping it with my trunks, deck chair, and boxes. I followed in a quilez, and we rattled down to the wharf in good time.
The General Blanco was not of a size to make her conspicuous, and I reflected that, if there had been another stage to the journey and a proportional shrinkage in the vessel, it surely would have had to be accomplished in a scow. Although by no means palatial, the Buford was a fair-sized, ocean-going steamer. The Francisco Reyes was a dirty old tub with pretensions to the contrary; and the General Blanco--well, metaphorically speaking, the General Blanco was a coal scuttle. She was a supercilious-looking craft, sitting at a rakish angle, her engines being aft. She had a freeboard of six or seven feet, and possessed neither cabin nor staterooms, the space between the superstructure and the rail being about three feet wide. You could stay there, or, if you did not incommode the engineer, you could go inside and sit on a coal pile. There was a bridge approached by a rickety stair, and I judged that my deck chair would fill it completely, leaving about six inches for the captain's promenade. Behind the superstructure there was a sort of after-deck, nearly four feet of it. When my trunks and boxes had been piled up there, with the deck chair balancing precariously atop, and with Romoldo reclining luxuriously in it, his distraught pompadour was about on a level with the top of the smokestack.
I really didn't see any room aboard for me, and sat down on a hemp bale to consider. Shortly after, the Division Superintendent arrived, accompanied by several young men. He looked blank, and they whistled. Then he went on board to talk with the captain, while his assembled charges continued to ornament the hemp bales. Filipinos of all ages and sizes gathered round to stare and to comment.
At last the Division Superintendent came back with the information that the Blanco would tow up a lorcha which was lying a little distance down the river, and that we should find her a roomier and cooler means of transportation than the steamer. "Lorcha" is the name given to the local sailing vessels. Our lorcha was about sixty feet long, and, according to one of the teachers who had once seen Lake Michigan, was "schooner rigged." There was a deck house aft, which was converted into a stateroom for me. There were two bunks in it, each of which I declined to patronize. Instead I had my steamer chair brought over, and found there was plenty of room for it. There were little sliding windows, which with the open door afforded fairly decent ventilation. But the helm was just behind the deck house, and the helmsman either sat or stood on the roof, so that all night his responses to the steersman on the Blanco interfered with my sleep. Then, too, they kept their spare lanterns and their cocoanut oil and some coils of rope in there. At intervals soft-footed natives came in, and I was never certain whether it was to slay me or to get some of their stores. Once a figure blocked out the starlight at one of the windows, and I heard a rustling and shuffling on the shelf where my food tins were piled. So I said, "Sigue! Vamos!" and the figure disappeared.
The men opened their army cots on the forward deck, where the big sail cut them off from the rest of the ship. The next morning they reported a fine night's rest. I could not make so felicitous a report, for my stateroom was considerably warmer than the open air, and a steamer chair, though comfortable by day, does not make an acceptable bed.
We breakfasted from our private stores, and I found myself longing for hot coffee, instead of which I had to drink evaporated milk diluted with mineral water. The day was sunny, the heat beat fiercely off the water, and I burned abominably. Near noon we sighted a town close to the coast, and knew that we were nearing our journey's end.
We skirted the horn of a crescent-shaped bay, found a river's mouth, and entered. Here at least was the tropical scene of my imagination--a tide-swollen current, its marshy banks covered with strange foliage, and innumerable water lanes leading out of it into palmy depths. Down these lanes came bancas, sometimes with a single occupant paddling at the stern, sometimes with a whole family sitting motionless on their heels. Once we passed the ruins of what had been a sugar mill or a bino factory--probably the latter. Then the Blanco, puffing ahead, whistled twice, we rounded a curve and came full upon the town.
Though subsequent familiarity has brought to my notice many details that I then overlooked, that first impression was the one of greatest charm, and the one I love best to remember. There were the great, square, white-painted, red-tiled houses lining both banks of the river; the picturesque groups beating their clothes on the flat steps which led down to the water; and the sprawling wooden bridge in the distance where the stream made an abrupt sweep to the right.
On the left of the bridge was a grassy plaza shaded with almond trees, a stately church, several squat stone buildings which I knew for jail and municipal quarters, and a flag staff with the Stars and Stripes whipping the breeze from its top. Over all hung a sky dazzlingly blue and an atmosphere crystal clear. Back of the town a low unforested mountain heaved a grassy shoulder above the palms, and far off there was a violet tracery of more mountains.
I knew that I should like Capiz.
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