Philippine History: Who Were the Thomasites?

Who Were the Thomasites?

While some Filipinos may know who the Thomasites were, most Americans probably don't have the foggiest notion of who they were.

In 1901, soon after the American civil government was established in the Philippines, the American government sent 540 teachers to the Philippines  on board the USS Thomas. These American teachers and those who followed, were thus called the Thomasites. 

Philippine American: 1763 Filipinos in Louisiana

1883 picture of Saint Malo, from Hearn 1883

Not very many people know that Filipinos first lived in the New World in the late 1700s when some sailors deserted Spanish galleons. Known as Manilamen, they settled in the marshlands of Louisiana and established small fishing villages such as Saint Malo. The Manilamen  married Cajun, Indian, and other women.

Life in Parian Now, published Zee Lifestyle, Nov. 2008

LIFE IN PARIAN NOW
Cecilia Manguerra Brainard
First published in Zee Lifestyle, November 2008


The first time I saw the building in Parian, Cebu, which I inherited from my mother, I wept. The three-story building was in terrible condition, just like many of the rundown structures in the old area of Cebu. The building needed a fresh coat of paint; the grounds needed cleaning up. I felt a wave of despair but deep inside I also felt an emotional attachment to this property which had belonged to my mother and to her mother before her. It is not easy to disregard such matters.

Keeping a stiff upper lip, I checked out the neighborhood. Even though I had grown up in Cebu, it was the first time I had walked around the Parian. I noted that my property was half a block from the Heritage Monument of Cebu and the 1730 Jesuit House (Ho Tong Hardware). The historic Yap-Sandiego house, Casa Gorordo and Rafi Building were also nearby. My property was walking distance to the Santo Nino Basilica, the Cathedral, Fort San Pedro, and historic Colon Street. From my building rooftop, I had an excellent view of the Cathedral, Cebu’s hills, city, and port.

It may seem farfetched to compare Cebu to Los Angeles and Paris, but I will mention here that seedy parts of these two great cities underwent gentrification to accommodate the growing population and to address transportation problems. In downtown Los Angeles specifically, many warehouses were turned into artists’ lofts and condominiums, with accompanying development of chic restaurants and shopping centers. I could see that the Parian had the potential of gentrifying as did these two places.

In the 1990s my mother, Concepcion Cuenco Manguerra, had hired Architect Abella to build a Deco style building on her Parian property. I had seen and admired it then. The building was solidly built with handsome details such as wrought iron balconies. The property did not flood, a common problem in the Parian. Recalling the building as it first looked encouraged me to convert the upper units of the building into my Cebu office/residence. I used a Mexican Spanish Colonial theme for colors and furnishings. I had the rooftop painted and decorated with potted plants, bamboo tables and chairs. I was delighted with the Old World effect which was in keeping with the history of the place. The rooftop in particular turned out to be a magical place, especially at night, with its magnificent view of the Cathedral’s steeple lit up in green and the city’s sparkling lights.

My family’s roots in the Parian date back to the late 1800s; documents indicate that my Great-great-grandmother Juana Lopez had bought land in the Parian area. At the turn of the century Juana’s daughter, Remedios Diosomito and her husband Mariano Albao Cuenco lived in a two-story house in then-fashionable Colon Street. There they raised their children and ran the Imprenta Rosario. Their second son, Mariano Jesus married Filomena Alesna from Carcar, and for a few years they lived in the Colon Cuenco house. By this time, Mariano Albao Cuenco had died and Remedios herself ran the Imprenta Rosario, becoming the first woman publisher in the Philippines. She ruled over her children, one of whom became an archbishop, the other a senator, the third a congressman, the fourth (woman), a writer. At some point, Mariano Jesus, Filomena and their family settled in a house in nearby Norte America. It was during this time when my grandmother Filomena bought land in Zulueta Street. It was this land that fell into my hands.

As history buffs know, the Parian is one of the oldest and most historic places in the entire Philippines. In the late 16th century, Chinese traders had settled here; the area developed into the commercial hub; by the early 1900s the Parian was the residential headquarters of Cebu’s wealthiest families, and it also became a publishing center. World War II and the subsequent destruction of Cebu changed the area drastically. Unfortunately, the wealthy families did not rebuild their Parian homes but fled to newer housing developments. The Parian declined, with many buildings turned into warehouses or low cost residences.

As I fixed my building, I developed a better appreciation of the Parian. I could easily walk to the Cathedral, Santo Nino Basilica, City Hall, the Malacanan of Cebu, downtown stores, bank, three internet cafes, LBC, hardware and building supplies stores. Transportation was easy to find. It was convenient to live here. A visiting American Fullbright Scholar, Dr. Michael Cullinane, chose to live in the Parian for the same practical reasons. There is also a Frenchman and his family who reside in the Parian, no doubt for the same reasons.

These are what I find charming about living in the Parian:
- looking out my balcony in the evening when the traffic has died down and the barbecue and food stalls have opened and people promenade up and down the street, talking, laughing, catching the sea breeze;
- seeing the Yap-Sandiego house all dolled up;
- walking down Binacayan street and catching a glimpse of the old Jesuit House’s gate;
- discovering traces of the 1730 Jesuit House in the Ho Tong premises;
- hearing the tooting of ships as they sail past the nearby port;
- sitting in my butaka chair with the windows wide open and enjoying the sea breeze zipping in and out;
- having Old Cebu lovers over for dinner and listening to them talk about Cebu events and personalities who had lived in the Parian a century ago;
- walking around the area and feeling as if I’m back in time, 1908 perhaps when my own grandmother herself walked along Mabini, Colon, Lopez Jaena, Logarta Streets.

It has its charm, the Parian. It is still depressed, but if you look at the Parian with the eyes of a lover, you will find secret gems tucked away. You can still sense its historic past. In fact, I detect a heightened consciousness among Cebuanos to preserve the rich heritage of Parian. Consider these events that are now happening in the area: Misa de Gallo procession in December, Sinulog festivities in January, Gabii Sa Kabilin in May, Independence Day festivities in June, the Parian Fiesta of San Juan Baustita on June 24, ongoing events and exhibits at the Casa Gorordo, the Cathedral Museum, the Santo Nino Museum, and Fort San Pedro. Tourist Police now patrol the area daily.

Who knows, perhaps historic Parian may experience a revival. In the meantime, I pray to the Santo Nino, and afterwards I buy bibingka in front of the basilica, and back home, I make myself chocolate-e and partake of these Cebuano delicacies just as my mother and her mother before her had done. And I thank them, these women ancestors of mine, for this historic gift.
~~~
Read also
Life in Parian Now
Cebu's 1730 Jesuit House 
The Secret Hall of Angels 
A Story of Hope
Finding Jose Rizal in Cebu
Lola Remedios and her Sayas
Lunch with F. Sionil Jose
Pre-Colonial Gold in Cebu
~~~
tags: Cebu, Philippines, Parian, history, Spanish Colonial, travel, tourism

JOSE RIZAL MUSEUMS IN CEBU, PHILIPPINES

Even though I grew up in Cebu, I never knew that Cebu has quite a lot of Jose Rizal artifacts. It was Marily Orosa, who years ago when she was working on her coffee table book, Rizal, mentioned that she flew to Cebu to view Rizal artifacts.

Remembering what she had told me, today, the first day, I was relatively free, I went to the Rizal Library, which has a museum section, but unfortunately the museum is under renovation. The librarian mentioned that USP (University of Southern Philippines) has a lot of Rizal things. So I went to USP, and was astounded at the materials in their small Rizal Museum. I'll be posting pictures next month, so do visit this blog again. This museum has a couple of original drawings by Rizal of Josephine Bracken. One is quite fascinating - it shows Bracken in the nude, reclining on a divan. There are two angels near her, one hovering from the top, and one standing and (seemingly) staring at her stomach.


There were clothes of Jose Rizal, the complete set of Jose Rizal postcards made in 1909; bronzes (?) of Rizal; a receipt indicating the cost to print Noli Me Tangere, paid for by his sister, Trinidad; Trinidad's school report card; a very important revolutionary flag, and many more.

When I get around to posting my pictures, I'll give more info, but in the meantime, I just have to say it was a real treat to visit this museum. I was flabbergasted that Cebu has all of these national treasures.

These were acquired because a Rizal descendant married a Cebuano.

Now many people don't realize that Josephine Bracken lived in Cebu. After Rizal was shot in Bagumbayan, she married a Cebuano - an Abad, I hear, although I have to confirm this - and she lived somewhere in Old Cebu. Apparently, she taught school, some say, the Immaculada Concepcion. This topic is up for further research; very little is known.


All for now, from Cebu,
Cecilia

MORE COMMENTS RE BENAZIR BHUTTO ASSASSINATION

I have a few more things to say about the Benazir Bhutto assassination:

1. The incident reminds me of what happened to Ninoy Aquino. Aquino had been in exile in the United States and had been encouraged by the United States to return to the Philippines in 1983. He barely got off the plane when he was shot dead in Manila International Airport's tarmack. The military or police immediately killed his assailant, and the Marcos government had a lot of stories about Ninoy's assassination. Not too long after, the government of Ferdinand Marcos, that had enjoyed quite a lengthy dictatorship, toppled.

2. American foreign policy - I cannot understand how the United States can talk about installing democracy in other countries such as Pakistan, when all it is doing is installing dictators. Haven't we seen the United States prop up dictators like Diem, the Shah of Iran, Ferdinand Marcos - all in the name of democracy? The American people must understand that when the United States props up these dictatorial governments, there is no freedom in those countries. None. Zilch. Nada.

In this sense the United States foreign policy is screwed up. The U.S. is so eager to support "friendly" governments where it has interests, and in so doing creates despots that oppress their people. This is not democracy.

This was what the U.S. has done in Pakistan - after 9/11, it pumped a lot of money into supporting Pervez Musharraf with the understanding that he'd fight the Taliban and Al Qaeda. According to a recent CNN documentary, Musharraf has made deals with the Taliban and Al Qaeda not to attack Pakistan military, which has made certain places in Pakistan nesting grounds of these militant groups.

Musharraf has suspended judges in Pakistan, and reportedly had placed Benazir in house arrest. He definitely did not provide adequate protection to her, and now there is some Pakistani government story that Bhutto had died from banging her head on the lever of her vehicle.

I've seen this kind of obsfucation - muddle the story so as to confuse the people, so that they fail to see what is important.

UPDATE GETTYSBURG, PA

We visited the Eisenhower National Site, which was the home and farm of Dwight D. and Mamie Eisenhower. They bought the farm in 1950, after Eisenhower's 30 year military career. The farm/ranch is huge, and while the cattle is no longer there, apparently there had been 100 heads of cattle there, some of them prizewinning. The house of Eisenhower is spacious enough and unpretentious. It's a two-story house with a living room, a sun room, a dining room, a den, and office, and servants' quarters, kitchen; upstairs there are several bedrooms. It's decorated in the 1950s style, and the living room has gifts from foreign dignitaries, such as an antique rug from the Shah of Iran, painting from Prague, table from South Korea, etc. After Ike, American presidents were no longer allowed to keep such gifts.

Today's highlight was the tour of the battlefields of Gettysburg. This battle took place in various sections in this town over a period of three days. Some of the fighting took place in town, some of it on fields nearby. The area is huge, and now there are markers from various States to honor those who died or fought there. The figures are staggering: in a 3-day period some 52,000 were killed, maimed, or missing. General Robert E. Lee had gone north and attacked in Pennsylvania; he lost this battle. The South continued fighting for 2 more years, but had to surrender.

It's interesting history and names such as Jeb Stuart, Gen.George Meade, Gen. George Custer, Pickett, Ewell, Jenny Wade, etc. featured in this famous battle.

We saw a light diorama show before we took the actual driving tour, and it was a big help because the area covered is large (battle theater). The diorama gives you the idea of where north, south, east, west are, and where the skirmishes and fighting took place.

Apparently, it took some 50 years, before locals allowed Southeners to build memorials on the battle ground.

I am still considering if such waste of life is worth it all. Lauren says it is, because the South wanted to secede and continue slavery. I am not sure it is quite as simple as that, and I keep thinking of the Declaration of Independence staged in Philadelphia where a group of people broke off from England to have their own way of life.

More dire news about Burma: the military junta continues to terrorize the people there, and I have no idea what the world can do. While the UN and the world dither about what to do, monks, people who have simple staged a peaceful protest are being hurt and killed.

I know that this military junta will not get away with it, but I do not know - and I am curious - how and when they will reap what they have sown.

OLD CEBU TRIVIA

Louie Nacorda sent in this Old Cebu Trivia about Zulueta Street in Old Cebu:

"Anyway, I found some Old Cebu trivia that could be of interest to us:
Zulueta's old name was Calle Pizzaro;
Mabini was Calle Maria Cristina;
Logarta was Calle Cadiz;
Lopez Jaena was Calle Hernan Cortes,
and the whole area was under Pueblo de Parian.

These info compliments of Don Domingo de Escondrillas, Cebu cartographer,
circa 1873."

LET'S BRING BACK OLD SPANISH COLONIAL CEBU

Today, June 24 is the feast day of St. John the Baptist, who happens to be the patron saint of the old section of Cebu City, the Parian District. For the past 9 days, a novena has been said at the Parian Chapel next to the Heritage Center. For the past 3 nights, other devotees to St. John the Baptist, have also been praying at the Casa Gorordo. Louie Nacorda heads the group of 13 devotees to St. John the Baptist. They meet a couple of times a year and are committed to saying prayers to St. John on Thursdays.

The triduum prayers this past 3 nights were held on the lovely verandah of Casa Gorordo, which boasts of tiled floor, wood awning with creeping vines, pleasant breezes, and magnificent view of the garden.

I happen to love Casa Gorordo and have used this as the setting for several of my stories. Built around 1850, the house has airy rooms, tiled roof, and has numerous features unique to the architecture of the area. It is a favorite tourist spot in Cebu City. When I am in the Casa Gorordo, I am back in Old Cebu. In fact, the Parian district, wherein Casa Gorordo lays, brings me way back, to the 1700s when three story mansions owned by wealthy Chinese merchants lived here, and when boats carrying merchant goods sailed up and down the criss-crossing canals.

The Parian district, which is near the famous Santo Nino Basilica, Cathedral, Fort San Pedro, and the Cebu Malacanan Palace, is gentrifying. The area had been the ritziest in Cebu from the 16th century until World War II destroyed many mansions and the old families moved out to more popular subdivisions. Perhaps this has been a blessing-in-disguise, because the resulting stagnation prevented massive demolitions for modern buildings. True, many houses are run down, but the basic features are there, and the roads and bridges are still there.

The Aboitiz Family acquired Casa Gorordo in the 1980s and turned this into a museum. Eventually, they also bought and built the Aboitiz Study Center across the Casa Gorordo. Other develpments in Old Cebu followed: A Heritage Center was built next to the Parian Chapel; the Cathedral convent was restored and recently the Cathedral Museum opened. Val Sandiego also acquired the landmark antique house across the Parian chapel and has been busy restoring it. President Gloria Macapagal built a Cebu Malacanan on the old Post Office next to the sea. The Santo Nino Basilica has undergone restoration and expansion, and is filled with worshippers every day. Historical identifying important landmarks in the area were put up.

There was talk of having an outdoor market next to the Heritage Center, but this idea died. It would be good for Cebu's local government to reconsider this idea because it would stimulate tourism as well as help with Cebu's economy. Close off traffic, have little stalls selling food and souvenir items, and more tourists will come. As it is tourists do visit the area because when you are in Cebu, you must see Magellan's Cross, the Santo Nino, Fort San Pedro, the Cathedral, Casa Gorordo, etc. Cebu's claim to historical fame is that it is where the Spaniards first settled, and that the Portuguese navigator (who sailed for Spain), Ferdinand Magellan, was killed in nearby Mactan.



Indeed the Old Section of Cebu is filled with history - the 1700s Jesuit seminary is still there, although this is now a warehouse. The old bridges that went over the canals, albeit, the canals are dirty.

When I walk around the Old Cebu, I see the great potential in the place. If only the city government would post more police to increase security; if only the city cleaned up canals and roads, if only the city helped people like Val Sandiego and other history lovers who would like to bring to life Old Cebu once again, but who need assistance. I even have a little dream: If only the Aboitiz family would do some development in the area, which might encourage others to do the same.

It can be done. The City of Vigan, Northern Philippines, (a UNESCO World Heritage Site) for instance restored many of its Spanish colonial houses. In Vigan, the city officials concentrated on developing one street as a showcase area. The surrounding areas went along with the gentrification. Vigan is a favorite tourist spot for international visitors to see Spanish-colonial Philippines.

If only the government of Cebu and the Cebuanos themselves ... if only they could see the great potentional in the Old Section of Cebu City!

Photo Above shows mural of Old Colon Street in Val San Diego's Historic house;
Photo in Middle shows painting of Old Colon Street in my Cebu apartment, with artist of both mural and painting, Chris Almaden

IMAGES OF THE FILIPINA IN LITERATURE

By the time I was a teenager, the Philippines had been a colony of Spain and the United States for a combined time of some four centuries. The dominating concept of beauty was Western; “white” was beautiful, “brown” ugly. When Gemma Cruz came around and won the Miss Universe contest of 1967, she changed the idea of beauty in the Philippines. Before her, all other Filipina beauty queens sent to international contests were mestizas, very European-looking. Her victory marked the decline of the colonial idea that fair was beautiful, and dark evil. Even Disney images showed blonde Snow Whites and Cinderellas, and dark-haired wicked stepmothers and witches.

Unknown to many, there were several foreign visitors to the Philippines who wrote about the beauty of the Filipina. I’ve put together here some excerpts of those writings.

As early as 1521, Antonio Pigafetta, Italian chronicler of Magellan’s voyage around the world, made some interesting observations about the women of Cebu. He wrote: “The prince led them (Spaniards) to his house, where he had four very beautiful girls, and almost white like ours, and he had them dance to metal cymbals, with them all naked, and he gave them refreshments, then they returned to the ship.”

Of the queen, Pigafetta reported, “The queen was very young and beautiful, covered with a white cloth, her mouth very red, a hat on her head with a crown on top of it like that of the Pope. And the hat and crown were made of palm leaves, and she goes nowhere without this crown.”
“One day,” he said, “the queen came with great pomp to hear mass, three young girls went before her with three of her men, hats in hand. She was dressed in black and white with a large gold-bordered silk veil on her head, which covered her shoulders. And on top of it she wore her hat. And many women followed her, who were barefoot and naked, except around the shameful parts, and a small kerchief around their heads, their hair loose.”
*
Antonio de Morga, a Spanish official in Manila from 1595 to 1603, wrote the history of the Philippines during the sixteenth century (Sucesos de las Islas Filipinas). He has interesting descriptions about the inhabitants of Luzon:
“They are of average height, are the colour of cooked quinces, and both men and women have fine features. Their hair is very black...they are very clever at anything to which they put their hands, they are sharp, hot-spirited, and determined.”

Even though he was not appreciative of the native custom of blackening their teeth, De Morga continued his respectful description:
“The women in the whole of this island wear jackets, with sleeves of the same stuffs, and of different colours: these they call varos (baros), they do not wear a chemise but have a white cotton wrap around the wasit, falling down to the feet. They also wear other coloured garments around the body, like mantles, which are very graceful. The principal women wear crimson ones, some made of silk, and other of cloths woven with gold, trimmed with fringes and other ornaments. They wear many gold necklaces, and have bracelets on their wrists and wear huge wrought-gold ear-rings, besides rings of gold with stones upon their fingers. Their hair, which is black, is gracefully tied up in a bowknot at the back of the head... The chieftains wear braids of beaten gold of varied design and many of them wear shoes, and their womenfolk also have dainty footwear, many using gold-trimmed velvet shoes, and white petticoats.
“Both men and women, especially the chief people, are very clean and tidy about their person and garments, and of goodly and graceful carriage. They are very particular about their hair and take a pride in having it very black; they wash it with the boiled bark of a tree called gogo and anoint it with oil of sesame mixed with musk and other perfumes.”

The Frenchman, Guillame Joseph Hyacinthe Jean Baptiste Le Gentil de las Galasiere, published in 1769 A Voyage to the Indian Seas, a record made shortly after the British troops pulled out of Manila. Le Gentil preferred native and mestiza women to the Spanish women in Manila whom he dismissed as deformed.

“For my part,” he said of the Filipino, “their color seems to me even more strange, and I find it difficult to compare it with anything. To me, it seems to approach more closely a light dead leaf color. The color of the women is lighter. They have beautiful black hair, of which they take great care, washing it with perfumed oil. They say that they do this to keep if free from dandruff, which, without the oil, would be quite considerable; but it is possible that a little vanity enters into this. However, the fact is that I have never seen among any other people with such beautiful hair as that of the native women of Manila. They wear it very long. It is by no means unusual to see women with very thick hair, so long that it touches the ground when they stand upright. They take pride in having long hair, and it would be impossible to inflict upon them a greater misfortune than cut it off. They do not use any ribbons or bands to die up their long hair. The men as well as the women braid their hair and tie it in a knot on top of the head. They have beautiful eyes, well shaped and black. Some of them have gray eyes...”

“They wear a kerchief, with a red border, around the neck. These kerchiefs are a great luxury in Manila...Wealthy women wear one over the hair, another around the neck, and carry another in the hand...
“The women’s chemises do not come down as far as the men’s shirts, and they are also worn very loose. They are made open at the throat and very low cut, so that they barely cover half of the breast. They are not made with cuffs like the men’s shirts, and are not fastened with buttons.
“For the rest of the body the women use a length of cloth which they wrap around themselves, tucking one of the ends in at the waist. This covering is called a tapis. The tapis is worn by all the native women of this archipelago. It is ordinarily made of silk and only comes down to the middle of the calf of the leg.
“...One sees women who have skirts of Indian cloth, made with tucks almost like those of our women, but they never go out without putting a tapis over the skirt. The foundation color of the tapis is chestnut brown, sometimes solid, sometimes with thin red stripes, and sometimes traversed by large red bands, occasionally embroidered. Over all this the women wear a sort of cape made in the Spanish style, with which they cover the whole body from head to foot. Around their necks, on their breasts, on their wrists and on their fingers they wear gold jewelry. A woman must be poor indeed not to have any. When they go out they wear very clean slippers embroidered with gold or silver. I do not understand how they can keep them on, for these slippers are as narrow and short as can be. They are in fact made in such a way that only the four big toes can be put inside, the little tow being left outside; and they are so short that these women have more than half of the heel projecting beyond the slipper. They wear a very large pin of gold or silver, very cleverly worked, which they use as an ornament for the coil they make of their hair.”

He contradicted a Franciscan friar’s statement that the native women wore modest clothes. “For my part, I take the liberty of not being entirely of this opinion. These garments are perhaps the most immodest which one could imagine...In order to get an idea of this clothing, outside the church, one must imagine a very pretty mestiza girl with a fine figure (as almost all of them have), whose beautiful black hair is piled up in a coil on her head, and the coil fastened with a gold pin. She wears a magnificent kerchief, embroidered and fastened so that it stands upright and goes around the head in such a way as to leave almost all the hair visible. The chemise, over which they put nothing, is loose fitting and made of a fabric so fine that it conceals nothing. Furthermore, this chemise is cut so low - that is to say, so open at the top - that it leaves uncovered the upper part of the shoulders and half of the breast. It is true that almost all these women wear an embroidered kerchief over the chemise; but this kerchief, to my mind, is nothing but a refinement of coquetery - indeed, it is not fastened in front, as our women wear it; the two sides and two bands hang carelessly under the arms.

“The skirt comes under the chemise and does not prevent it from floating loosely. A clean tapis is put over this skirt; but as it does not come more than half way down the leg, it exposes all the lower part of the skirt; and the tapis is wrapped so closely that from behind one can see the shape of the body. Add to this the tiny slippers the native women wear and which, with the tight-fitting tapis, perhaps require them to adopt their peculiar style of walking, and you will get an idea of the modest garments of the native women of the Philippines!”
*
Another Frenchman, Paul P. De La Gironiere, who lived in the Philippines from 1820 to 1840, wrote Twenty Years in the Philippines, in which he described his adventures in the archipelago and the estate he created, Jalajala. He too admired the women of the Philippines:
“In the evening, Spaniards, English, and French, go to the promenades to ogle the beautiful and facile half-breed women, whose transparent robes reveal their splendid figures. That which distinguishes the females half-breeds (Spanish-Tagalogs, or Chinese-Tagalogs) is a singularly intelligent and expressive physiognomy. Their hair, drawn back from the face, and sustained by long golden pins, is of marvellous luxuriance. They wear upon the head a kerchief, transparent like a veil, made of the pina fibre, finer than our finest cambric; the neck is ornamented by a string of large beads fastened by a gold medallion. A transparent chemisette, of the same stuff as the headdress, descends as far as the waist, covering, but not concealing, a bosom that has never been imprisoned in stays. Below, and two or three inches from the edge of the chemisette, is attached a variously coloured petticoat of very bright hues. Over this garment, a large and costly silk sash closely encircles the figure, and shows its outline from the waist to the knee. The small and white feet, always naked, are thrust into embroidered slippers, which cover but the extremities. Nothing can be more charming, coquettish, and fascinating, than this costume, which excites in the highest degree the admiration of strangers. The half-breed and Chinese-Tagalogs know so well the effect it produces on the Europeans, that nothing would induce them to alter it.”
*
Robert MacMicking, a Scot who lived in Manila and wrote Recollections of Manila and the Philippines (during 1848, 1849, and 1850) had his own opinion:
“A number of the women are very beautiful, for although their skin is dusky, the ruddiness of their blood shows through it on the cheek, producing a very beautiful colour, and their dark, lustrous eyes in general lit up with intelligence and vivacity of expression, than those of any Indians I have seen elsewhere.
“A very pleasant trait, to my taste, is the nearly universal frankness and candid look that nature has stamped upon their features which, when accompanied by the softness of manner common to all Asiatics, is particularly gratifying in the fairer part of creation.
“Their figures are well shaped, being perfectly straight and graceful, and nearly all of them have the small foot and hand, which may be regarded as a symbol of unmixed blood when very small and well shaped, as although the mestizas gain from their European progenitor a great fairness of skin, they generally retain the marks of it in their larger bones, and their hands and feet are seldom so well shaped as those of the pure-bred Indian, even though the Spaniards are noted for possessing these points in equal of greater perfection than the people of other European countries.

He too made note of their hair, “as one of the most remarkable beauties in the native and mestiza women, being very much longer and of a finer gloss, than that of any Europeans.”
*
The reader should not be misled into thinking that all foreigners’ accounts recorded Filipinas as beautiful because there were critical ones, curiously by Americans who visited the Philippines at the turn-of-the century. But for now let us glory in these early reports of admiration for our Filipino women
________
SOURCES
Recollections of Manila and the Philippines, by Robert MacMicking, originally published in 1851 by Richard Bentley of London; reprinted by the Filipiniana Book Guild, Manila, 1967;
A Voyage to the Indian Seas, by Guillaume Joseph Hyacinthe Jean Baptiste Le Gentil de la Galasiere, originally published in France in 1779-81 under the title Voyage dans les Mers de l’Inde; reprinted by the Filipiniana Book Guild, Manila, 1964;
Twenty Year in the Philippines, by Paul P. de la Gironiere, English translation published by Harper & Bros., New York, 1854; reprinted by the Filipiniana Book Guild, Manila, 1962;
The Voyage of Magellan, by Antonio Pigafetta, originally published in 1525; this edition translated by Paula Spurlin Paige, Prentice-Hall, New Jersey, 1969;
Sucesos de las Islas Filipinas, by Antonio de Morga, originally published in 1609, Mexico; this edition translated and edited by J. S. Cummins, Hakluyt Society, London, 1971
(Article was written in 1998)

DEATH OF A CARNIVAL QUEEN: 1912-2002

(Concepcion Cuenco Manguerra collapsed on November 7, 2002, and was on life support until her heart gave way on December 1, 2002, in Makati, Manila)*

BY the time I was aware of things, my mother, Concepcion Cuenco Manguerra, had shed her Carnival-Queen ways, mostly because of circumstances – marriage, children, World War II, and my father’s death – one could not be frivolous under those conditions. But at nineteen, she had been a beauty queen – Cebu’s Carnival Petit Queen of 1931 - a title that conjures glamour, power, and the romantic notion of a bygone era.

In our ancestral house in Cebu, the picture of her as Carnival Queen sat on top of our piano. It was encased in an elaborate antique brass frame, and although the picture had faded so the colors were dominated by sepia and brown, I could still discern my mother’s face – round, youthful, with a fresh smile, with some coyness in her expression. She looked alien to me. By the time I paid attention to this picture, my father had died and my mother had surrendered the persona of “Beauty Queen” for “Widow.” For the rest of her life, she referred to herself as the “pobreng viuda” – the poor widow - words that sometimes evoked mirthful giggles from her four children who knew her well. We knew that despite her martyr-expression and sighs, she was quite a tough women and entrepreneur.

My mother was born February 18, 1912, in Cebu and she grew up in the Parian District. She told me stories, especially in her later years, and she used to say that the family home in Colon Street was chaotic and noisy. The men were always arguing; and the printing press shook the entire house. The men she referred to were: Mariano Jesus (her father who later became Senate President), Jose Maria (her uncle who later became Archbishop of Jaro), and Miguel (who became a Reprentative). And the printing press was the Imprenta Rosario, started by my great-grandfather Mariano Albao Cuenco and later managed by his young wife Remedios upon his death.

Aside from having a passion for the written word, my mother’s family also had political aspirations. Right around the time of my mother’s birth, my grandfather (Mariano Jesus Cuenco) embarked on a political career, first as an assemblyman, then governor, senator, cabinet member, and at the highest point of his career senate president.

My grandfather was governor of Cebu when my mother became Carnival Queen in 1931. The karnabal, or carnival, which had its roots during the American rule in the Philippines, started as a series of trade fairs, and part of the festival activities included selecting a queen and her court, a tradition that captured the imagination of the public and which quickly dominated the annual trade fairs. Cebu, like Manila, had its own carnivals. Cebu hired the company of Churchill and Tait, which provided a circus, animal shows, and thrill rides. Festivities went on for fifteen days, during which time the candidates for queen participated in various public events. Coronation night was the culminating point of the entire carnival.

I have no doubt that being a Carnival Queen was one of the happiest moments of my mother’s life. Surprisingly she didn’t talk much about it. She was too busy being a wife and mother, and after my father died, was overwhelmed at being responsible for four children. The only reminder in our household that she had been Carnival Queen was that solitary picture on the piano. I learned about her “beauty queen status” from other people who even in the 1960s still marveled over her coronation. They talked about my mother’s fabulous gowns, in particular a mermaid outfit decorated with large coins, and made by a Spanish couturier. There too was Mama’s handsome coronation consort; and people always clucked over their thwarted romance. People regretted that most pictures of my mother as Carnival Queen had been destroyed during the war.

It was not until I was a grown woman that my mother talked to me about those carnival days. Sometimes, she mentioned her handsome consort. Apparently he kept a huge picture of himself and my mother hanging in his living room until his daughter took the picture down. “I saw him at the dentist, and he begged me for a copy of that picture,” my mother related. “I told him, ‘Don’t be silly, that was so long ago.’” But in her face I saw a glimmer of that nineteen-year-old, and I could imagine again her headiness at being young, the beautiful daughter of the governor, and being Carnival Queen.

In her ninety years of life, my mother did many things and accomplished much. She became a real estate tycoon; she loved her children and grandchildren; she loved to travel; she loved home-cooked Cebuano meals; she liked movies (“Pretty Woman” was a favorite); and she had many friends from all walks of life.

When she was no longer young, my mother enjoyed being the queen of various service groups, and we have numerous pictures of her wearing ternos and with a crown on her head. Music and dancing was something of a passion. Before dance instructors became fashionable, she already had dance instructors. Even when she was deep in her eighties, she moved and twirled so gracefully. No matter how chaotic her life was, there was always some serenity in her when she was on the dance floor.

Reflecting on it, perhaps while dancing my mother imagined herself as the nineteen-year-old Carnival Queen once again, when things seemed perfect, when Life had not yet touched her. For indeed Life had much to offer my mother, with its ups and downs, and pains and joys, but while she was Carnival Queen, even for just a short while, Life was good.

Go in peace and rest now, dearest Mother!

(This article by Cecilia Manguerra Brainard appeared in Sunstar Weekend, Cebu, December 15, 2002 and Filipinas Magazine, USA, April 2003. Above pictures show Concepcion Cuenco as Cebu's Carnival Petit Queen of 1931)

~~~

These site have information about Philippine Carnival Queens, updated by Cecilia Brainard in 2022. 

Cebu Carnival Queens Philippines from 1914-1941 including Concepcion Cuenco Manguerra - https://cbrainard.blogspot.com/2022/01/cebu-carnival-queens-philippines-from.html

Cebu Carnival Queens and Other Queens, Philippines - Part 2 - https://cbrainard.blogspot.com/2022/01/cebu-carnival-and-other-queens.html

tags: Cebu, Philippines, history, travel, Cecilia Brainard, Concepcion Cuenco Manguerra, Cuenco Family

 

NEW ORLEANS AND THE ASIA CONNECTION

(Note: This article was written in 1998, before Katrina)
MY fascination with the city of New Orleans goes beyond the Mardi Gras festival, although I must admit that I’d gotten a glow looking at the pictures of the fanciful floats and happy people in costumes and feathered masks. A dozen years ago, I had read that the first Filipinos in the United States were galleon seamen who jumped ship in Mexico and later found their way to Louisiana back in 1765. A Filipina living in New Orleans, Marina Espina Estrella, had corrected the historical misconception that the first Filipinos in America settled in the West Coast in 1903.

The first time I visited New Orleans a decade ago, I interviewed Marina who is Full Librarian at the University of New Orleans. I learned that these “Manilamen” married Cajun women, started the shrimp-drying industry, traded at the French market in the Quarter, and fought with Jean Lafitte in the Battle of New Orleans. They formed communities called “Manila Village” and “St. Malo.” Having left the Philippines in 1969 to settle in California, I felt a connection with these “Manilamen.”

That first trip to New Orleans was a rushed visit; my husband and I were there for four days on one of those great package tours you couldn’t refuse. We lived just outside the French Quarter, in an aging once-elegant hotel - part of the package deal. Aside from dining with Marina, we took a ferryboat ride up the Mississippi to see the site of the Battle of New Orleans. We toured the Garden District and scoured the French Quarter. The Quarter, the old section of New Orleans and tourist spot, is the area that the Frenchman, Bienville, had staked out at the curve of the Mississippi River for France in 1718.


Recently, my husband and I visited New Orleans. Because of a convention, we had difficulty finding an hotel room and in a fit of desperation I checked the internet, punching in “New Orleans Lodging.” Miraculously we found “Bed and Breakfast and Beyond,” and ended up in a huge suite in a three-story mansion built in the 1850s and fully restored with antiques and a delicious dripping three-tiered fountain on the patio.

The house even had ghosts, three of them - a 16-year old girl who had hung herself during the American Civil War, and a gay couple who had quarrelled and shot themselves. That was perfect as far as I was concerned; New Orleans and ghosts go together. Even though I did not experience any ghostly encounter during our stay, I walked around that house in a childlike state, expecting some ethereal appearance, or moan, or clatter - but no such luck.

When a girlfriend heard about her trip, she confessed that she hates New Orleans; she hates the seediness, the edge, the aura of danger, the Gothic quality of this old city. I think all these are part of the enchantment of the place. It’s no accident that Anne Rice, the author of Interview of a Vampire and other spooky novels, lives in a mansion in the Garden District of New Orleans.
After dinners, when my husband and I walked around the old narrow streets of the Quarter, I would suck in my breath at the sight of pale gaunt people lurking under the flickering gas-lit lamps. And whenever horse-drawn carriages came clopping by, with their drivers wearing dark flowing capes and huge felt hats, I thought of Anne Rice. I wondered if she copied New Orleans people or if the people mimicked her characters. Anne Rice has, by the way, an enormous fake police dog looking down from her second-story balcony; real dogs patrol her yard. And yes, her mansion is reportedly haunted.

Natives of the place pronounce New Orleans “nor-luns,” and Burgundy Street is pronounced “bur-GUN-dee street.” New Orleans is one of few American cities that is multicultural and multilingual. American Indians were the first settlers. The French showed up, and undaunted by the yellow fever that killed many, carved a city out of the swamp land fronting the Mississippi. African slaves were brought to work the plantations in the late 1700s, then the Spaniards had a 41-year turn at running the place. It was because of this Spanish connection that Filipinos have a history in New Orleans.

The Americans took over New Orleans in 1803. The Irish and Italians also migrated to the area. Then in 1861, the “battle of the Northern Aggression” as our tour guide said, occurred; he meant the Civil War.

So there you have it: patois, Cajun, and English are some of the languages spoken by the people; Cafe Du Monde serves heavenly beignets with cafe au lait; street signs are in Spanish and in French; there are buildings of stucco and brick with balconies of intricate iron grillwork like lace; and on the outskirts, antebellum homes hearken plantation days.

St. Louis Cathedral is walking distance from the site of the house of the voodoo queen, Marie Laveau. Marie Laveau, it is said, went to church at St. Louis. She is buried in St. Louis Cemetery I. We went there and saw crosses and other inscriptions on her grave marker. In front, there were lighted candles and offerings of food from voodoo practicioners asking for her intercession. Voodoo practicioners also visit Our Lady of Guadalupe Church to pray to the statue of St. Expedite because he “delivers.” In fact there is no saint by that name. When the church was being built, some statues arrived in big crates. One of these was an unidentified statue with a sign on the box that said “Expedite.” And thus did St. Expedite come to be.

In the Quarter, the Ursuline Convent stands as the solitary French building because of a fire in the late 1700s. The other buildings in the Quarter have Spanish architecture. The Ursuline nuns, people relate, had prayed during the Big Fire, and a wind came along and shifted the fire away from the convent. These same nuns had prayed for Jean Lafitte’s victory at the Battle of New Orleans.

On Pirate’s Alley, a stone’s throw from St. Louis Cathedral, stands the house where William Faulkner lived in when he wrote his play Soldier’s Toy; it’s now a bookstore. A couple of blocks away is the house where Tennessee Williams wrote A Streetcar Named Desire; one can almost hear Stanley bellowing from the second story “Stella!” To my disappointment, there is no streetcar named Desire.

But there is little in New Orleans that causes disappointment. There are endless nooks and crannies to explore - an interesting brick courtyard, an unusual “cupid-design” iron grillwork, a “fish” water spout, a clump of lush banana trees, a voodoo museum, the building where Andrew Jackson and Jean Lafitte met, bookstores, antique shops, jewelry shops, poster shops. There’s famous Bourbon Street where many bars have live music, mostly jazz because New Orleans is the birthplace of jazz. Preservation Hall, training ground for early jazz players, still holds jazz performances. And it is quite legal to walk around the Quarter with alcoholic drinks in your hands, so long as these are in plastic cups - beer and Daiquiris are favorites. There is an eternal Mardi Gras atmosphere along Bourbon Street.

You can take a trip to a plantation, explore swamps, or take a ferry ride on the Mississippi River. You can gawk at the fabulous mansions at the Garden District, go antiquing on Magazine Street, and indulge in world-famous restaurants - Nola’s, Antoine’s, Broussard’s, Galatoire’s, K-Paul’s. And don’t forget the downhome Praline Connection for mouth-watering fried chicken, jambalaya, and gumbo. (A favorite pasttime in New Orleans is planning where to go for your next meal.)

The list is endless. Four days was not enough to explore everything; but it was enough time to see another world as well as imagine another time and place. New Orleans feels familiar to me. Everywhere I went, I got the feeling I knew the place, a kind of deja vu.

Mark Twain, or someone said, the similarity between New Orleans and Asia is that in both places people eat rice and worship their ancestors. It’s that, and more, that I pick up.
(1998)

THE JESUITS IN CEBU

I grew up in the city of Cebu, in Southern Philippines, whose claim to historical fame was that the Portuguese navigator Ferdinand Magellan was killed by Lapulapu in nearby Mactan Island. This happened in 1521, and for the next 333 years, Spain controlled the Philippine archipelago. During the turn of the century the Americans took over as the colonists of the Philippine archipelago. During World War II, the Japanese controlled the country, but somehow despite the assortment of influences, there remained a quaint Spanish colonial flavor in the place. It was something I took for granted while growing up, and only became more interested in where this Spanish flavor came from as a grown woman after my mother and most of her generation had passed on. I’ve had to turn to history books to make the connections between the past and the present.

One of the things I learned was that the Jesuits had a long and rich history in Cebu. I had known that the Jesuits had founded the Ateneo in the 1800s because the Philippine National hero Jose Rizal attended that school. But I was pleasantly surprised to learn that the Jesuits had been in Cebu as early as 1595.

It was the Jesuit superior, Antonio Sedeno himself who founded a house in Cebu. Sedeno was a veteran missionary of 46. Like St. Ignatius, he had been in the military when he was young. He had gone to England as a page of the Duke of Feria when Mary Tudor was queen. On March 13, 1568, he sailed for Florida with a group of Jesuits headed by Juan Bautista de Segura. In 1572, Sedeno was the first Jesuit sent to Mexico, and it was while he was acting Rector of the college there that he was informed he was chosen as superior of the first Philippine Mission. Traveling with three companions, he sailed from Acapulco on the galleon San Martin on March 29, and arrived Manila in July. There Sedeno and his company learned Tagalog. After much hem and hawing as to whether the Manila Jesuits would head the entire Far East or the Philippines, and as to what type of work they would actually do there, the King of Spain sent an order for the Jesuits to establish a Jesuit College where they would teach not only Spanish boys but also mestizos and sons of the ruling class.

Cebu, the site of the first Spanish settlement was not forgotten, and by June 30, 1595 Sedeno himself headed a small group composed of Alonso de Humanes, Mateo Sanchez and a lay brother to Cebu for the purpose of founding a Jesuit house there. The people received them warmly and promptly donated 500 pesos to them, which they used to buy a house near the beach. The city corporation donated adjacent land adjacent for a yard and garden. The trip to Cebu had been on an uncovered sailboat, exposing the Jesuit passengers to the stormy weather for three weeks. Father Sedeno became ill and passed away in Cebu on September 2, 1595. They buried him in the domestic chapel on the ground floor of their first house, but three years later, Father Pedro Chirino transferred Sedeno’s remains to the new Jesuit church.

The Jesuits went on and founded a free primary school that taught Spanish, Visayan, and Chinese students Catholic doctrine, reading, writing, arithmetic, and deportment. Grammar was added upon the Since 1596, the Jesuits had been administering a free primary school teaching Spanish,Visayan, and Chinese students Christian doctrine, reading, writing, arthimetic, and deportment, grammar.

In 1599 the Chinese Christians built a Catholic church in the wealthy Parian district and the church was said to have been decorated with gold and silver. The Bishop of Cebu ordered the Jesuits to administer this church, which they did for a while. This was the Parian Parish church that stood at the intersections of Mabini, Espana, and Zulueta. The Jesuit convent was across the street on Mabini and Zulueta.

When I was small, my mother used to visit the Parian District of Cebu to shop from an old woman who sold chocolate tablets. I used to accompany her and sitting in our car, I used to peer out at the rundown buildings in that area. After World War II, like many other residents, my family moved inland, in the more popular residential areaa of Cebu, away from the crowded and commercial downtown section. The Parian district ceased being fashionable. But when my mother was young, the Parian had been a fashionable place where the rich and powerful people of Cebu lived. My mother and her family had lived in Colon Street, known as the oldest street in the Philippines.

The shop where my mother bought the chocolate tablets was located at the end of Colon on Mabini Street – yes, the same Mabini Street where the Jesuit convent had sat. Now the Jesuit house is a warehouse, but there are vestiges of the old convent. There is a plaque that is inscribed “1730.” And outside is an old gate that has been preserved by the current owners.

So sometime, if you are in Cebu, near the Cathedral of Cebu and the Santo Nino Basilica, take a walk to the corner of Zulueta and Binacayan, and take a look at the mossy old walls and the find the old gate (on Binacayan Road); and if you ask permission, they’ll let you in and you can see the centenary enormous structural posts and plaque inscribed 1730.

(Above picture shows the Cuenco Family who lived on Colon, the oldest Street in the Philippines. My mother is the girl standing and holding a doll, on the left side); the other picture is the Val Sandiego house in Parian, Cebu

All for now,
Cecilia Brainard

tags: travel, history, Philippines, Cebu, Parian, Jesuits, Spanish Colonial, Jesuit House

DIASPORA IN ITALY ~ ONE FILIPINA'S STORY

DURING a visit to Rome I was surprised at the large number of Filipinos in St. Peter’s Basilica. In churches, metros, there were Filipinos; and at night, clusters of Filipinas sat around the Piazza di Navona, chattering away in Tagalog.

Art specialist John Silva, whom we ran into in Rome, also shared his story about being in a bus full of Filipinas on their way to work as domestics in an expensive area of Rome. We wondered where these Filipinos came from in the Philippines, why they migrated to Italy, and how they were adjusting there.

As my husband and I continued our journey through Italy, I observed these Filipinos at a distance. In a park in Florence around 30 Filipinos gathered for a picnic. They were in their thirties. Some men clustered around a table, gambling. I saw some infants and young children. Only one woman among them smiled a greeting at me; the rest ignored me. And so I simply smiled at the woman and did not talk to them. My curiosity about them was left to grow.

In Stressa however, I had the chance to talk to a Filipina. While waiting for a train for Milan, a Filipina approached me and introduced herself. Her name was Yolanda, she said, and she took care of a wealthy Italian woman with cancer. It was Friday, and Yolanda was off for the weekend; she was on her way to Milan to join some relatives and friends.

Petite and wiry, Yolanda looked ten years younger than her 53 years. She was adamant about guiding us from Stressa to Milan, stamping our train tickets for us, and telling us where to sit, and when to get off. She was starting to annoy my husband, but I saw an opportunity to interview a Filipina in Italy. She didn’t mind my questions at all; in fact she thoroughly enjoyed telling me her story.

When she was 33 years old, in Manila, her husband who was 31 died of a heart attack. She tried supporting her four children by selling bananas and other small business ventures. She was so desperate that she considered becoming a singer/performer in Japan – a Japayuki. Her mother and other relatives discouraged her from doing so. An agent suggested that Yolanda work as a domestic in Saudi Arabia. She left Manila for Saudi on December 23. She said she was still nursing her youngest child, and her breasts were full of milk. She wept all the way to Saudi. Her employers met her at the airport and brought her to their house. Her job was to take care of their children. Yolanda said, on Christmas day, she continued to cry, but even then, she added, my hands were full of grapes.

Her employers were kind and even sent her on holidays to the Philippines. She was in Manila when the Persian Gulf War broke out, and she decided not to return to Saudi. The pay was not that good anyway, Yolanda added.

She still had to figure out how to support her children who were being raised by her mother. An agent suggested going to Italy. Apparently the agency could falsify an Italian visa. She was drilled well. She had to know what the airports looked like, where to go, what to do. She had to dress well, to pass for a tourist.

In France, the French immigration officials questioned and delayed her. They finally released her when she insisted they had no right to question her since her final destination was Geneva, Switzerland.

By the time the French released, Yolanda missed her flight to Geneva and had to take the plane to Zurich. She was terrified, she said because the agent’s contact was meeting her in Geneva.

In Zurich, she didn’t know what to do. She approached a teenage boy whose mother was Japanese and whose father was Caucasian, figuring he spoke English. She asked him to call a telephone number for her, which the boy did. After, the boy said, “You look hungry, come eat with us.”

She continued her journey in this way, asking for help from Filipinos or people who spoke English. Finally after a long and frightening journey, she made it to Italy. She reported that her journey was not as bad as others who had to go to Germany (I think she meant Austria) and swim across a river. There was a group of Filipinos, she related, who swam the river, but one had a heart attack, and they had to leave her.

Yolanda considered herself lucky because ten months after her arrival, the Italian government offered amnesty, so now her papers are legal. Her children in Manila have all gone to school. The youngest, she reported is in art school – a useless major, commented Yolanda. And her life seems full in Italy. Aside from taking care of her employer, she has sideline work – selling insurance, and swatch watches, and so on.

In Milan, Yolanda wanted to take us to the Duomo. I understood that she was repaying the kindness that others had given her during her journey to Italy.

We’ll be all right, I said. And so at the train station in Milan, we said goodbye. We headed for the Duomo while she vanished into the mass of people at the station.

I have a scrap of paper with Yolanda’s name and cell phone number; but she and I knew we will never see each other again.

(Picture above shows: Cecilia and Lauren Brainard with John Silva in Rome)

All for now,
Cecilia Brainard

tags: travel, tourism, Italy, Rome, St. Peter's Basilica, Filipina maids, Europe, Cecilia Brainard

 

THE FASCINATION CALLED CHINA

WHEN friends returned from a tour to China and raved about it, my husband and I, who enjoy travelling, decided to go there.
We left in September, and our national guide, Mr. Wong met us at Beijing airport. For the next 14 days he vigilantly herded the 29 people in our “blue” group – blue referring to the color of the identifying flag of our guide. He listened to our praises or complaints about the meals (mediocre) and hotel accommodations (very good). For two weeks he was nursemaid, friend, interpreter, as well as ambassador of goodwill.

Our two days in Beijing barely gave us time to see all the highlights. Beijing is huge and bustling with high rises interspersed with dilapidated low buildings, reminding me of Manila. The streets are wide with a separate lane for bicyclists. Riding the bicycle is the main mode of transportation in Beijing; and hordes of bicyclists jam with streets, competing with the cars and buses.

Cities in China have populations of 13 million or 4 million, incredible numbers of people. After learning this, I understood why their government is very strict about their One Child Policy. Our local guide told us that his own mother had to abort her second pregnancy. What happens quite often is that women abort girls. Boys are still desired, even thought our woman guide in Guilin (who had one girl) said that nowadays, it isn’t that important to have a boy – boy or girl, the same, she insisted.

Our first stop was Tiananmen Square, which reminded me somewhat of Luneta in Manila. It was filled with tourists, Saturday promenaders and school children rehearsing for the October 1st celebration of the 50th anniversary of Mao’s October Revolution.

Along the one side of Tiananmen Square lays the Forbidden City, which we visited. We passed the moat and several gates, until we entered the area with ancient buildings. We saw the elaborate halls where emperors held court, fabulous carved centerpieces that ran between stairs, and courtyards with few potted low plants (so that assassins could not hide). I couldn’t help thinking that centuries ago, Marco Polo himself had visited the Forbidden City. That is what impressed me most about China, its antiquity. In China, people talk of thousands of years B.C. as if it wasn’t really that long ago.

In Beijing, we also visited the Summer Palace, which was built by Empress Xici, a concubine who bore a son for the emperor, and who therefore became powerful. The Summer Palace is a huge area surrounding a beautiful lake with forests and beautiful halls, temples, and an opera theater.
That night we saw a Chinese Opera, which was interesting, although many of us were nodding off, weary from jetlag and a full day’s tour. All I remembered about it was the high pitched tone of the singers and the frantic clashing of gongs.

The next day we went to the Great Wall, which is the only man-made structure that can be seen from the moon. It was incredible, miles and miles of this stone wall that curved and wound around mountain tops, across most of China; it had been built to prevent China’s northern enemies from invading China. In fact, the wall did not hold back their enemies; and even the Manchus, who had been enemy, had a dynasty that lasted for hundreds of years, ending with the last Emperor of China in the early twentieth century.

From Beijing, we flew south to Xian, famous for its terracotta warriors. In 1974, some farmers were digging a well when they struck a hard object. They dug around it and discovered a life-sized terracotta or clay statue of a soldier. They turned it over to the government, and for their honesty they were given monetary compensation and lifetime government work. The government conducted archealogical diggings around the area and discovered thousands and thousands of terracotta warriors. Emperor Quin, credited for being the first to unify China, had ordered his tomb and burial grounds prepared. His burial preparation included the creation of these terracotta warriors, which were made from clay, fired, painted, and arranged underground in battlefield formation: the footmen in front, the charioteers in the back, and generals in some other area.

If the Great Wall was incredible, the sight of thousands of these terracotta soldiers lined up in trenches, took my breath away. Each warrior’s face was unique, so one had the sense of looking at a sea of frozen people. I could understand the reasoning behind the building of the Great Wall, but these terracotta soldiers had a mystique about them. Of all the sights I have seen – and I have visited many places – this one is the most remarkable that I have come across.
In Xian, we also visited a neolithic village and the Huaquing Hot Springs, called the Winter Palace of the Tang Dynasty. Here the emperors and his court came during the winter to be able to bathe in the hot pools. The buildings and courtyards in this place were also quite charming.
From Xian, we flew to Guilin, where we saw the craggy limestone mountains. I had seen many Chinese paintings of fantastic steep mountains with rocks and pines that stick up here and there. All along I thought this was stylized painting by Chinese artists. When I saw the mountains of Guilin, I realized that those mountains really do look like that. We sailed for four hours along the Li River, totally captivated by the beauty of the mountains, the river, and the peaceful riverbanks. Guilin is relatively close to Vietnam, and the landscape in this area, with bamboo trees and carabaos, reminded me of the Philippines.

We had some rain in Xian and Guilin, although the weather remained warm and pleasant. In Nanjing, our next stop, it continued to drizzle, but this did not stop us from visiting more temples, the bridge that spans the Yantze River, and the Memorial Hall of the Victims in Nanjing Massacre by Japanese Invaders, which honored the more than 300,000 Nanjing residents who were killed by Japanese soldiers in 1939. In their haste the Japanese had dumped thousands of bodies in various common graves. The memorial shows a pit with bones piled one on top of the other. I was touched by this stark memorial especially since many Filipinos had also been killed by the Japanese during World War II.

From Nanjing, we visited Suzhou called the Venice of China because houses are built along canals. We saw a marvelous old castle there; and the houses along the canals were very charming. Most buildings are of the Tang architecture with the curved roofline. Apparently the government had decided several years ago that buildings in Suzhou should be built in the Tang architecture, and so the government has been taking over buildings and rebuilding them accordingly.

Our last stop was Shanghai, and unfortunately we only had a day and a half there. This city is as cosmopolitan as New York, Paris, or London. It is filled with some 1,500 skyscrapers. The Bundt area, which fronts the river pulses with people and activity. The old China town section has been redone by the government, and it is impeccable in its “old look,” so much so that it has a feel of a movie set.

Our tour group had little time to relate with regular folk since we were on tour buses and at different sites most of the time. Clearly we were shown only the beautiful side of China; and the Communism we saw seemed lax and capitalistic. The Chinese takeover of Tibet for instance was never mentioned. If anything the image of the government is that of a benevolent one, allowing their minorities to have as many children as they wish, as opposed to the majority (the Han people) who must follow the one-child rule. Obviously, there is more to China than what we saw; but for a tour, it was a wonderful one, and I would recommend China to everyone.

September 1999

(Above pictures show Cecilia Brainard in the Forbidden City, Beijing, China; and Lauren Brainard with the terracota soldiers in Xian, China)

~~~
tags: travel, China, Asia, Xian, Guilin, Zian, Shanghai, Beijing, Suzhou, tourism

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All for now,

Cecilia