Digging around to discover Manila

To appreciate Manila, one needs to acquire the eyes of a thrift

shopper

URBAN assaults in Manila

come and go with such

speed that there is barely

enough tinge to recoup

before the one hits the

battered Manileqo. Manila

has a way of knocking

people flat out. Life in

Manila is not easy.

In Manila, things don't

really work too smoothly, with garbage, traffic, sanitation,

pollution, drainage, public transportation all priorities together

with many other items on a long repair list.

Manila is not one of those cities anchored on efficient

infrastructures. Other global cities build their districts, streets

and parks on an invisible, functioning infrastructure network. In

those cities, infrastructure underpins neighborhoods of

different types, with a collection of urban landmarks enriching

into in the city that provides a strong urban identity and instills

a ''pride of place'' among the residents.

When was the last time someone told you that he was fiercely

proud of living in Manila?

Unfair

Comparing Manila to other cities is unfair. Unlike the great cities

of the world, Manila buries its goodness under a brusque

exterior, requiring people to dig beneath its scarred surface to

discover its uniqueness.

Manila is a macho city that does not come on gently, forcing

itself upon people and eliciting a strong (negative, more often

than not) reaction. Therefore most people take the city at face

value. It takes a sturdiness to penetrate its ominous exterior.

Those who probe beneath the surface are rewarded with a mixed

bag of goodies.

Calling Manila a city of extreme paradoxes is appropriate, but it

lets Manila off the hook with more gentility than it deserves.

It is the city that I love to hate, a place where it takes real

commitment to live. To find some meaning to Manila, to know

what gives it life and what makes the city what it is, one has to

be an urban archaeologist. You really have to dig around.

Look at Manila as if it were the biggest and messiest thrift shop

in the world, bursting with so much stuff that is worn, chipped,

broken, peeling and tired.

Special breed

Thrift shop aficionados are a special breed. Never deterred by

the outward condition of the merchandise and always on the

prowl, they sift and dig with patience and an archaeologist's

dedication, never letting up until they strike a find. Each find

sends them back for more digging.

Poke around forgotten junkyard

streets in Quiapo and be stunned by

squatter-framed sylvan estero views

(to maintain the sylvan illusion, do

not take a deep breath) of a

magnificent Pagoda, a dream of a

folly concocted with inimitable flair

as a Chinese-Japanese-Central

European-Hispano-Filipino mix that

sprouted into fanciful reality within a

spacious Quiapo garden three

generations ago.

R. Hidalgo Street, a few corners away

from the Pagoda, presents an

impressive vista reminiscent of

Parisian avenues. Framed by

colonnaded sidewalks under elegant late 19th-century

residences of Manila's old families, the Gothic spires of the

all-steel San Sebastian Church (said to be the largest

prefabricated steel structure of that type in the world) is still the

focal point of the seriously decomposing vista.

Tanduay Fire Station, a block away from San Sebastian Church,

still retains much of its early 20th-century flavor despite

heavy-handed remodeling. Still a working fire station, it houses

a vintage fire engine. For the bombero buff, there is a collection

of early 20th-century fire stations that still stand, whether still

on their own or now with the help of crutches, waiting to be

discovered by the urban archaeologist in other districts of

Manila.

Junk

For the determined aficionado, more treasures exist under the

exterior layer of Quiapo junk. And there really is lots of junk.

However, determination is the key. Poking around this area

means hard work. Walking on Manila streets has never been

easy, and Quiapo is no exception.

Manila really is not one of those cities whose beauty knocks the

breath away. Actually, the only way remaining to get into

Manila these days is to thrift-shop our way into discovery.

Some interesting places are left on the surface, but actually

there really aren't much.

Imagine Manila as having evolved from the ''most noble and

ever loyal city'' of Spanish days. Back country as the colonial

Manila may have been, the Americans further evolved it to the

''City Beautiful'' of the first half of the 20th century when we

indeed became the ''Pearl of the Orient.'' We took over after

World War II and plunged it into the bitter pill that it is today.

All other cities in the country are fast becoming Manila clones.

Cebu, Dagupan and even Baguio have started to look like

Manila, doing away with whatever individuality they once had.

The urban thrift-shop subculture really presents a one method

to cope with the chaos that surrounds us. We really should

discourage the thrift-shop subculture and instead roll our

sleeves up to begin making changes to our cities that give real,

tangible and lasting meaning to our environment. The quality of

our lives is at stake.