Siquijor: Bewitched by her Fire (Central Visayas, Philippines)

Published by Action and Fitness Magazine, 2008

Be warned: Siquijor can bewitch.

 Her name is Siquijor, a powerful and beguiling enchantress. She is known for her curses, black magic and powerful potions. Considered as the marine paradise of Central Visayas in the Philippines, Siquijor can be reached by sea through the provinces of Cebu, Dumaguete or Tagbilaran in the Visayan region. Before my visit, Siquijor was an island I would never have dreamed of visiting. The fear of being cursed had little to do with it. It was simply because I had no reason to see her. Siquijor was a fearsome and mystical island because she was distant. For me, she was nothing more but a name that was uttered in dramatic whispers. 

Charmed by Cambugahay Waterfalls.

But fate would conspire with the elements to change my mind, and the wind took me to La Isla del Fuego, or Island of fire. In the 1600s, the Spaniards first set foot on the virgin island and called her the island of fire because of the eerie glow that surrounded her.  Siquijor’s radiance, a glowing mist around her head, turned out to be the light from clouds of fireflies that swarmed the numerous molave trees on the island.

I was enchanted. She bewitched me not with magic potions or curses, but with her quiet beauty and charm. Circling the small island in one day - the lush roadsides, the clean quiet streets occasionally disturbed by crossing chickens, the archaic churches sitting on rolling hills, reminiscent of old European structures, the charming locals, the verdant mangroves in the middle of the beach and the calm pastel sunset - showed me a different kind of Siquijor.

Looking out from the St. Isidore Labradore Convent,

                      the oldest in the Philippines.

    La Isla Del Fuego revealed the beautiful face of magic and witchery, the kind that is calming, spiritual and in no way fearsome. Her fire burned my picture of a western witch with long claw-like fingers, a sharp crooked nose and a black pointy hat. Instead, I saw a sorceress that is one with nature. She works not with toad’s eyes and human fetuses but with the whim of the wind and sea. Her powers are not brewed in cauldrons but in the force of her waves, the light of the moon, the energy of her sunsets and the secrets of her caves. She does not cast spells to covet or harm, rather she protects and heals. Beautiful, nurturing and beguiling, Siquijor offers a respite away from the horrors of the metropolis.

Open and inviting, Siquijor is not only an enchantress, she is also a mother, embracing her citizens and guests in her bosom, characterized by hilly and mountainous terrains and bordered by tranquil beaches. She protects her people from the full force of typhoons and blesses them with bounties from the coast. White sandy beaches make up most of her 102-kilometer coastline. But Siquijor shies away from the noise of typical commercial white beaches. She doesn’t flirt with loud club music and fancy resorts, rather she beckons with quiet mysteries I have never seen in any beach in the country before. Once, during low tide, she invited me to walk far into her beach with the water reaching only up to my ankles. On some patches of sand, I found army crabs. They skittered on the soft ground in organized groups, burrowed, then disappeared all at the same time. It was a strange but astounding phenomenon. I stood still for a few more seconds, and a new batch surfaced from another direction.

St. Isidore Church sits on a hill in Lazi.

Vast blue skies serve as backdrop for Siquijor’s tranquil beaches. Generous mangroves sprout in the middle of its waters. At sundown, I sat in the water, kissed warm by the sun. It was like a therapeutic bath as I watched the day disappear in swirls of pinks, yellows and blues. From a far distance, fishermen’s children sang joyously about how life is more colorful with a bowl of vegetable soup.

Enchanting Siquijor offers more than just the idyllic life. Her coral reefs are also ideal for water adventures like snorkeling and diving with spectacular wall drop offs, sloping terraces and World War II dive wrecks. Siquijor has two known dive resorts, Kiwi Dive Resort and Coco Grove. Kiwi offers quiet charm and personalized service while Coco Grove boasts of high-class commercial amenities.   

Warmed by the water and the setting sun.

 To explore Siquijor’s various terrains, all we needed was a day and a little jeep that runs on gas sold in Coke bottles. The driver often also serves as the tour guide. We started out the tour at the little town of Lazi, located at the southern tip of Siquijor. Lazi, with its small town charm and quiet appeal, keeps a big secret. The St. Isidore Labradore Convent, the biggest convent in Asia, sits atop a hill in Lazi. The low rise two story structure was once used as a vacation house for friars and priests. Built in 1857, St. Isidore is also known to be one of the oldest convents in the Philippines. A walk inside the ancient building told of its age and history. The ground floor is made of thick stone while the second floor is made of hard wood panels.  It was a precarious walk   on the second floor where some of the wooden floor planks were missing. Bright light, coming in from generous windows, washed the stained stone columns with some colour, bringing life into its otherwise sagging condition.

I crossed the road fronting the convent and found the St. Isidore Church. The 19^th century church is made of coral and stone. The rust tinted roof and the moss growing between the stone cracks, gave life to a structure hundreds of years old. Inside, shadows hid several delightful surprises. Period pulpits, intricately hand carved renditions of the station of the cross on the windows and hardwood floors with herringbone patterns speak of the church’s old grandeur. Up in the belfry, the antique bells silently echoed St. Isidore’s pride. Outside, the grassy slope led us to a garden with gracious acacia trees hiding the path down to a mini amphitheatre.  In this green alcove, you can get lost in the past when Spanish friars and locals once tended the gardens while the image of the Virgin Mary silently watched.

Mystic Siquijor’s hilly terrain also has something for the adventurous heart.   Her rock formations had been gently shaped by the cold wind to form over a dozen caves, rivers, waterfalls and springs perfect for trekking and spelunking. The Cantabon cave is one of the most famous caves of Siquijor. It has a little bit of everything for the intrepid spirit. The one and a half trek took us on an uneven shadowed path beside mini streams and tiny waterfalls, through pitch dark chambers, and around protruding stalagmites and crystal white stalactite formations hanging overhead. Deep within the cave, a pool invited us to take a dip to wash off the grime we had acquired from the trek and more importantly, the worries and stresses of the city. Locals said that no one has ever ventured to go far into the cave’s bowels perhaps out of fear of dark spirits that may be lurking there.

Spirits seem to roam everywhere in Siquijor. I could feel them in the trees and in the wind, singing us songs of enchantment. At Tigbawan in Lazi, we took a refreshing stop at the Cambugahay Waterfalls, rumoured to be charmed with its multi tiered  water cascades. Then there was the century old Balete tree in the Campalanas area. The tree revealed hundreds of years of history in its roots and vines hanging from its branches. The knotty whorls on its bark, told of the magic it had witnessed through the ages. Below it, running water flowed, heading straight to a manmade stream.

On my way home, I didn’t stop to buy a bottle of Siquijor’s famous potions.  What I brought home with me was far more powerful than her concoction of roots, barks, leaves and fairy dust. I brought home her spirit, which will forever remind me that there is still such a thing as magic.

Read More

Taking the First Dive (Anilao Batangas, Philippines

Published by Oklahoma City's The Tribune in my TravelOkcity column (December 2010).


The days are beginning to get colder and shorter, making me long for days under the sun and the feel of the warm tropical water on my skin.  To briefly escape the snow flurries and the blustery wind, I’d like to take you with me on a little diving expedition in the Philippines where the water is friendly and as blue as the wide open sky. 

                               One of the first wonders I saw was a clown fish welcoming me to its world.                                          Photo by my gorgeous ninang and dive instructor Susana May.

An archipelago of 7,107 islands covering a land area of 115,739 square miles and a coastline twice as long as the United States, the Philippines is an ideal place to explore sea life with 40, 15,444 square miles of coral reefs teeming with underwater creatures, a universe so different from ours.

To my dearly departed friend Zen Robleza (in striped shirt) who started this adventure with me.

        

If the cold has not frozen your sense of adventure yet, take off your mittens for  a moment, slather on some sun block, and defrost with me as I take you on my first diving adventure...

Celebrating after my check out dive aboard the Strega de Mare.

Taking the First Dive

The sun was blissfully burning my cheeks as Strega de Mare, the white witch of the sea, sped past the island of Sombrero. We were a few meters away from Beatrice, our first dive spot in Anilao. 

Getting suited up.

Located 140 km south of Manila, Anilao Batangas is known as one of the best dive sites in the country. It does not possess the powdery white sands and the lush resorts of other beaches in the Philippines, but its treasures can be found down below,  in the coral slopes and the shallow gardens with about 34 dive sites offering countless wonders.  I couldn’t get over the fact that in a few minutes, this secret world would be opened to me.  As the white washed boat slowed to a stop, I got ready for my first dive.

Resurfacing after the plunge.

All geared up, I jammed the regulator in my mouth and bit on the rubber fitting awkwardly. My first whiff of air from the mouthpiece sounded hallow. It was unnatural. Why was I breathing air from a 5.6 liter cylinder tank when I could breathe the salty air freely without this intrusive contraption in my mouth? Instinct urged me to breathe through my nose. I gagged as my inhalation came up with nothing. The rim of the mask bit into my cheeks as the deep breath vacuumed the mask tightly on my face. It took every ounce of will power to stop myself from yanking off all the tubes from my face. I breathed again from the regulator. And again. Nothing changed except for the fact that I was able to push panic a few inches away from the safety line.

Starting the descent.

To distract myself I looked around and observed the rest of the dive crew busy with their last minute set up. There was no room for fear or anxiety. It was either jump or suffer the humiliation while sweating in a dry wetsuit. One by one they toppled over on their backs and disappeared into the water until there was no one left but me. I had no choice. Fear was taken over by pride. I may be a 95 pound weakling, but I was not a coward. At least not from the outside.

Touchdown!

I held the alternate regulator against my chest, secured the regulator and mask on my face with the other palm, leaned back and let gravity do its work. Before the plunge, my neck was burning softly under the sun’s rays and my body was slowly warming beneath the tightness of the body suit. Suddenly coolness embraced me. It was actually quite a relief. Hundreds of tiny bubbles kissed my cheeks and for a moment, cold dark silence engulfed me. I flailed my arms to find balance and kicked to seek solid ground. Anything to anchor and stabilize me. From somewhere I heard my instructor Susana in her heavy Mexican accent, “Very good! Relax!” Suddenly I remembered one vital thing that I forgot to do: breathe. I sucked air through my mouth and heard that alien vacuum sound again as if Moby Dick was breathing beside me. I clamped tightly on the mouth piece of the regulator, afraid that water would seep in. Oxygen in my head got me thinking again as I slowly regulated my breathing. All of a sudden, without effort, my head bobbed above the water’s surface. As sunlight hit my face, the world made sense again. All these happened in a matter of seconds.

How beautiful the work of your hands.

As I breathed more regularly and as the coolness of the water soothed my skin under the neoprene material, my fears started to melt. Slowly we descended into the water, holding on to the anchor line. An inch at a time we descended deeper. We didn’t dare move faster afraid we would suffer from nitrogen narcosis or decompression sickness as the pressure of the water increased.

I uncovered one of God's greatest secrets in the form of this little slug.

I could see nothing but midnight blue, the color that dreams are made of. And it did feel like a dream as we moved in slow motion. Our bodies floated, disfigured by the moving water. We almost looked ethereal, illuminated by transmuted light from above. Somebody signaled to look down and suddenly I was transported into another dimension of my dream. The world below was awash with muted colors, unimaginable shapes and rich textures. I was supposed to check my gauge regularly to watch my rate of descent and the air level in the tank but the world beneath me was too distracting. I couldn’t take my eyes off it for one minute. I thought that it was unfair that this was kept secret from the rest of humanity.

Read the rest of the story  in my travel column, TravelOkcity, at Oklahoma City's The Tribune

Read More

When Kare-Kare Gets Stylized (Manila, Philippines)

Published by AsianTraveler Magazine,  2009

The moment the appetizers – finger foods in shot glasses – were served at the table, I knew this was going to be a different culinary experience. The fist sampling was a tiny rice basket stuffed with a crunchy and tasty filling. I followed the bite with a sliced quail egg resting at the bottom of the shooter. The taste was strangely familiar yet new and exciting to the tongue.  Chef Rolando Laudico saw my smiling eyes and then with a knowing grin revealed: “sisig”.

A shot of chorizo, anyone?

Here, where the black-and-white checkered floor compliments the subdued yellow walls, is where art and cuisine merge. Here, where the gleaming green Swarovski chandelier evokes an Old World charm, is where a new culinary experience unfolds. Here under the light linen canopy anchored by dark kamagong beams is where one can have a taste of global dining through local flavors. Here is Chef Laudico Bistro Filipino, Chefs Rolando and Jacquline Laudico’s fine-dining Filipino restaurant that advocates native dishes presented in an artful and modern way.

The perfect gift under the tree for this Christmas (Photo courtesy of Chef Laudico)

“For a time when I worked and studied abroad, I’ve always had this frustration whenever people would ask where I’m from. They had zero idea on what Filipino food is,” Chef Roland explained as he sets the Prito Trio on the table, an appetizer of crispy fish, shrimps and squid. I dipped the fish in garlic aioli and savored the smooth but strong flavor of the dip as he continued to explain the beginnings of Bistro Filipino. “I decided to make it my goal to make Filipino food more recognizable and more presentable to other cultures,” said the chef who has an impressive resume starting with a degree with honors at the Culinary Institute of America in New York and a long line of experience working with renowned chefs in France and Australia.

It’s all about refinement and creativity, the chef explained as he urged me to try the ubod (heart of coconut palm) spring roll. It wasn’t your typical lumpia as this one was cone shaped and served in a tall and thin shot glass – of course. I hesitated, a bit confused on how to make the first bite. He piled a little mound of crushed ice over the still warm roll and motioned for me to take a bite.  The grated ice turned out to be vinegar. The spicy coolness of the vinegar sorbet competed with the warm richness of the ground meat in my mouth. The distinct smokiness of the chorizo was also a nice surprise. Talk about awakening the palate!

Interiors: definitely Filipino!

Chef Jackie credits her husband’s quirky food presentation to his love affair with street delicacies. He is fascinated with Pinoy street food fare and always wondered if there was a better way to consume lumpia without the sauce dripping all over the place. From this dilemma, Chef Roland improvised his design. “How we approach our food is very visual.  If you could do it with French, Chinese, Japanese, you could also do it with Filipino. You could do it practically with any cuisine. There is no limit to the creativity,” enthuses Chef Roland.

Chef Jackie compliments her husband's creations with sweets. (Photo courtesy of Chef Laudico)

Art plays a definitive role not only in the dishes, but also in the interiors. The thick abaca rug that serves as a wall divider - offering  privacy from the outside, the capiz chandelier that hangs over the foyer, the antique hardwood furnishings, and the oil paintings of tropical fruits, were all carefully chosen to evoke the old Filipino elegance with a modern flair, complementing the menu’s traditional yet contemporary offerings.

The menu is a feast of native cuisine that makes use of only two main ingredients: the best and the freshest and superb and artful execution. Each dish is as surprising as the next from the prawns laing tempura to the chicken tinola salad. The finest wines and signature drinks and cocktails – all Filipinized and modernized, of course – are complementary to the flavors. The perfect conclusion to such an artistic meal is Chef Jackie’s inspired desserts. She is particularly proud of her handmade Belgian chocolate truffles infused with indigenous flavours. Calamansi truffles, anyone?

Art everywhere: on the plate, on the walls, hanging from the ceiling.

Indeed, with the Laudicos’ masterpieces, every mouthful comes with a surprise.  I bit into a smoked milkfish ball and was surprised with the creamy and smoky center. The tinapa balls were stuffed with mozzarella and glazed with pinakurat. Pinakurat vinegar is made of fermented coconut nectar and spices. “Kurat” in Cebuano means “spice,” and the spicy vinegar glaze truly gave a zing to the salty tinapa ball. Each bite, I thought, was perfectly orchestrated, starting with the saltiness of the milkfish, the unexpected punch of the spicy glaze and capped off with the cheesy center, to temper the salty and spicy taste.

To allow our stomachs to settle for a bit, the chefs served a sampler of designer soups. The beauty of dining at Bistro Filipino is that you can sample most of the dishes with options of ordering dishes in tasting portions.

The Trio Soups, for instance, allows the diner to choose any three of the soups in the menu in sampler sizes. Our trio – shitake mushroom cappuccino, paella arroz caldo and beef nilaga consommé – was served in tiny cups. Being a fan of the fungi, the mushroom soup called out to me. The shitake was cooked adobo style to give the smoky earthy taste a more pronounced saltiness. The brothy flavor was further enhanced by the creamy garlic foam. A drizzle of white truffle oil strengthened the soup’s pungent flavor without making it overwhelming.

Assorted handmade chocolates by Chef Jacqueline Laudico.

After a refreshing plate of mesclun salad tossed in Dijon bagoong vinaigrette, Chef Roland brought out his pièce de résistance: kare-kare. Not shying away from Western influences, the chef’s own version of the classic Filipino dish is not made of the usual local meat, but prime U.S. Angus beef. The beef is served on a bed of turmeric rice with a layer of creamed banana heart. On the side is a serving of grilled eggplant chutney and garlic pechay sauté.

Bistro Filipino is elegantly Pinoy

What makes the classic kare-kare dish so special is the bite of the bagoong paste that is usually served with the dish. Unfortunately, many diners that are new to the dish are not too enthusiastic about the shrimp paste’s overwhelmingly pungent smell. More often than not, they pass up on the dish, afraid to try out this seemingly unusual and unappetizing delicacy. This is where Chef Roland’s expertise and ingenuity comes in. “If you’re given a Filipino dish, sometimes you don’t know how to eat it. You don’t know what it is; it doesn’t look as appetizing but definitely the flavors are there; the tradition is there.”

While the shrimp paste is usually served on the side, Chef Roland mixes the bagoong with the sauce.  It’s a little bit sneaky, but the technique works. Foreigners gobble up the dish, enjoying the rich peanut sauce, not knowing exactly what they’re having until they ask.  This is the chef’s idea of refining a dish to make it more appealing to a global market.

Tanglad and salabat are some of Chef's Jackie's unique chocolate flavors.

The sad reality is, the Filipino flavor is still not in the menu of top restaurants all over the globe. For the Laudicos, the challenge is how to make what most Filipinos consider as everyday home-cooked fare into world-class gastronomy. “If you can get the taste of tradition and present it as modern and more applicable to what’s current now, then the Filipino cuisine will have a chance,” said Chef Roland who, in spite of his training abroad, and in spite of his expertise in international cuisine, still prefers to be known for his delectable native dishes. With their goal, the Laudicos are gearing up to open branches abroad starting with Singapore and Hong Kong. They’re also releasing a book titled Bistro Filipino – Tradition, Innovation. The book focuses on contemporary Filipino cuisine based on traditional recipes. It’s an effort to encourage Filipino chefs to take the Filipino dishes to another level.

It may all seem a bit too ambitious, maybe overly patriotic. Whatever the case, there is no stopping this young and innovative couple, and the Laudicos are on their way to taking Filipino flavors  to world-class standards with every U.S. Angus beef kare-kare and beef nilaga consommé served at the table. I raise my glass of wine – made of the local berry, duhat – to the Laudicos.

Read More

The Seven Stones that make up a Home (Boracay, Philippines)

Published by AsianTraveler Magazine, 2009

The season of Habagat -when the prevailing winds from the west came with a force that shook the palm trees and the beach huts, rattling them from their base - was the time when we arrived on the shores of Boracay, supposedly a sunny tropical paradise at the Northwest tip of Northern Panay in the Philippines. The sun abandoned us on the day we docked, and the wet winds soaked our flimsy clothes. But there it stood, the 7 Stones Boracay Suites, strong and unfazed amidst the tempest, promising us shelter and so much more - the 7 stones that the resort is known for.  

Don't rain on my paradise.

Upon arrival, I immediately picked up the first stone, the stone of impeccable service. Several attendants in shorts immediately came with umbrellas, sheltering us uselessly from the torrent of water. At the receiving area, they were apologetic, as if the gloomy clouds were of their own doing, as if the sun had never forsaken them before. They fussed about and ushered us in our rooms and closed the drenched world behind us. Suddenly there was great stillness, warmth, and comfort.

Why, hello, sun! I'm so glad you finally showed up.

What is a strong foundation for a successful establishment? What is it that made this hotel stand resilient in the midst of a storm? For a luxury boutique hotel situated along a secluded beach in Bulabog, the strong foundation consists of 7 stones. It is from this concept of a strong foundation that the 7 Stones Boracay Suites got its name from.

 General manager Danny A. reveals the Seven Stones secrets.

In Inuit cultures, the man made stone landmark, also known as the inukshuk, is used as a point of reference, a navigation device, a marker for hunting grounds, and even as a food cache. From this idea 7 Stones was built by the beach as a landmark of luxury and more importantly, as a sign of home. The 7 Stones stands upright, much like a lighthouse, guiding travellers to its open doorway, welcoming them home. The inukshuk, several stones piled high, looking much like a figure of a standing man, comes from the word inuk, meaning “person” and suk meaning “substitute”. In a way, 7 Stones Boracay Suites stands as a substitute family for the traveller who is temporarily away from home. “The totem shows you your way home,” says Dani Aliaga, resort manager.

7 Stones was to be my temporary home in a season of unforgiving weather.  In the few days that I stayed in the resort, I was able to gather the remaining stones, one by one, that made up 7 Stones Boracay Suites. The second stone was green.

It's fun to go on assignment with a good photographer friend (Don Oco).

Nestled in what seemed like a fishing village along the Bulabog Beach, 7 Stones cannot ignore its neighbours. It recognizes its responsibility to the environment and to its community through its daily operations, evident even in my bathroom sink where coasters brandish the reminder “green initiative”. It was a subtle suggestion for me to be mindful of my water consumption and usage of amenities. If I needed my towels and sheets changed every day, they would. But through discreet and courteous notes, I was encouraged to reuse and therefore contribute in their “green initiative.”

The second stone that I collected was a representation of how traditional Filipino elements meld harmoniously with the modern in this boutique resort. The stunning suites are contemporary and spacious with a Zen like appeal. Each room is accentuated by Filipino handcrafted art from mixed media paintings made by local artists from Mariit Artworks. In my room the canvass paintings are simple – a goldfish in one, a hull of a boat in another – yet powerful, evoking the stillness of the sea currently ravaged by the Habagat wind.

Healing hands in paradise -with a beach side masseuse before the therapy.

On a rare moment when the wind abated and the sun coyly took a peek, I took a walk outside, out to the beach where I picked up the next stone, a gift from nature itself: the beauty of the sea which opens out in great magnificence at the entrance of 7 Stones. Here is a private cove, visited only by fishermen in their boats, away from the mad revelry of the White Beach where all the resorts and commercial establishments are. Here, I was protected from the hateful Habagat wind. Here the water was calm and inviting. Without hesitation, I took a dive.

 After my dip, I lounged on the cushy deck chair that faced the shore, taking in all the splendour about me. The sky, hanging low, was a weak blue, still mourning the sun’s absence. It brought about a serene feeling in the air, the calm before the storm. I breathed in and closed my eyes. This was the stone of indulgence. The fifth stone. I held it close to me like a child holding a precious marble and allowed the soft sea breeze to cuddle me to sleep.

I could live here.

After my nap, I headed back to my room, but along the way, I couldn’t ignore the call of the crisp 

water in the pool. It was a 25 meter lagoon type swimming pool with a Jacuzzi at one end. At the other end was a sunken bar where I was able to soak in crystal coolness while I refreshed myself with a tall cocktail. This was the stone of luxury, the sixth pillar to 7 Stones’ strong foundation.

Soon the sky became jealous again and opened up a drizzle of rain. I started to shiver and ran back to my room, a cozy shelter. The discreet beep of the sensor-controlled locks welcomed my arrival and automatically turned on the power. I took a shower, patted dry, and burrowed under the softest covers. While listening to Ian Wright traipse through Bolivia through my LCD flat screen TV, I slowly drifted off to sleep. But before I completely succumbed to oblivion, I thought, this was home, my temporary home, the seventh stone.

Read More

Confessions of a Shopaholic: Old Ghosts, Great Bargains, and the Process of Embracing the True Self (Manila, Philippines)

Published by Pilmap, Travel and Leisure, 2007

(Watch out for my brands for less article in Lifestyle Asia - Travel where I will show you where to find designer trends for a steal. Photos by Cherie M. Del Rio)

Tries on a hundred pairs of shoes and ends up taking home a sheer black tunic. Guilty. Devotes one entire day for Christmas bazaar shopping  with quick breaks for meals only. Guilty. Gets lost in a trance inside a night market. Guilty. Considers shopping a sport. Guilty.

Caught in the act by Don Oco

My name is Ana; I am a recovering shopaholic, and this is my story. 

I haven’t bought a bag, a pair of pumps or a dress in 6 months, 14 days and 3 hours until that fateful day when I was introduced to Tutuban Mall. When the assignment of shopping in the Philippines was dangled in front of me like a carrot stick to rabbit, I didn’t bite. The first stop was at Tutuban Mall in Divisoria.  I’ve never been to Tutuban, and the idea of exploring a new place made my nose twitch. I got more interested when I found out that Tutuban sits in the middle of old Manila, a place steeped with history. Before my mind could wander on the delicious possibilities, I stopped myself. I would not open myself to temptation.  

Fabric shopping (by Don Oco)

But isn’t Tutuban famous for its wholesale market and dirt cheap prices? My mind anguished over the dilemma. The old shopper’s blood running through my veins started to stir, responding to the familiar calling: Bargain! Bargain!

I reasoned and argued. I’ve been working too hard these past few days. Retail therapy could do some good. I deserved a reward. I mulled over the pros and cons for a few more seconds. In the end, a shopper will always be a shopper at heart and breaking the last thread of resistance, I heeded the call of the mall. Wearing comfortable shoes and with just enough money in my pocket to get to the Mall and back, I braved the traffic of Taft Avenue and headed to Tutuban Mall, silently swearing that I would not buy anything. Not hail or sleet or 50% off would make me succumb to my weakness. 

From Tutuban to the streets of HK, you'll find me trying on clothes.
Image by Nana Arellano Aoyong.

Past and Present                   

Armed with a solemn pledge, I sought out history immersion instead. Located along C.M. Recto in Tondo, Tutuban Mall consists of three fully air conditioned buildings situated around a cobbled rotunda called the Loop Road. The Center Mall, named so because it is flanked by the Cluster Mall and the Prime Block, is hard to miss from the main road with its old architectural design. Its Spanish architecture hints of ghosts of calesas galloping lazily along the cobbled streets, Chinese merchants rushing to the market to trade their wares, and early risers shuffling in their tsinelas, bayong in hand. The building’s facade though can be very deceiving. Tutuban’s nostalgic exterior houses modern boutiques and stores, home to popular names and trendy brands.

A guerrilla shopper won't mind trying clothes on even on the streets,
as told by Nana Arellano Aoyong.

Beyond the bargain items, Tutuban Mall sets itself  apart from competition through its area of great historical significance, proving that a historical landmark doesn’t have to share the fate of hardly visited museums inhabited by floating motes of dust and restless spirits. On the contrary, Tutuban is a vibrant place of commerce, melding the old with the new.  Bustling businesses take place under the watchful but quiet eyes of old ghosts.   Gazing at the shoppers with their shopping bags in tow is Andres Bonifacio, founder of the Katipunan. His monument stands proud in the middle of the Loop Road where he was said to have been born.

I got my shopper's genes from my Nanay.
Woodbury Premium Outlet Mall, NY

In the 1800s, Tondo, where Tutuban was built, was considered the center of commerce. It was a short distance away from the piers and could be reached from almost every major district in Manila and other outlying towns and cities. In 1887, the former Manila Railroad Company was built, making nearby provinces and towns more accessible. The former  Manila Railroad Company, now called the  Philippine National Railways, still stands behind the mall. In fact, Tutuban was built right at the heart of the century-old Philippine National Railways building.

According to many, the name “Tutuban” originated from the sounds that came from the locomotives parked at the central station. Others say Tutuban was the center for the production of tuba, a local alcoholic drink made from coconut.

Caught in the act by Lisa Cruz

Today, Tutuban still remains to be at the hub of Manila’s trading and commerce, offering more than just the local alcoholic drink. Aside from the affordable wares, Tutuban claims to be a one stop shop housed in a place rich in history.

Restraint VS retail therapy

People go to Tutuban Mall with one purpose – to shop. If they wanted to relax or share intimate conversations over a warm cup of coffee, they would go to the quieter, posh malls in the city. At Tutuban, no one stands still. The aisles are packed with frenzied people on a mission – to look for great bargains.  

The best kind of therapy is the retail kind at the night market of Hua Hin, Thailand.

Pioneering the tiangge concept in the mall, Tutuban is the biggest wholesale & retail shopping complex in the country. It houses over 1,700 tenants  selling local goods and merchandize from all over the world. Anything from food, RTW, accessories, toys and house wares to handicrafts and souvenirs are available at any of the Tutuban Mall’s buildings.

Caught in the streets of Hanoi, spending some VND.

Since the Center Mall is home to the branded boutiques and stores found in almost every mall in the country, I decided to venture out to the Cluster Mall and the Prime Block.  I heard that’s where the wrangling and the quibbling happen, and I was out for some adventure.

Set much like a typical tiangge or bazaar, the cluster buildings are crowded with stalls, each one claiming to offer the best bargains. Tinderas cry out “pili na!” like vendors in a fish market.  

            Got lost in Hanoi looking for the Old Quarter. I found this ao dai instead.

                                               Photo by Winston Baltasar.                                      

 Going through the rows upon rows of Victorian inspired blouses, psychedelic printed 60s Mod dresses, and dainty ballet flats, my self control was continuously tested.  

Takashimaya in Singapore is one of the largest in the region.

I found a pair of tailored short-shorts in beige sold at P100 a pair. How could I let that pass? I questioned my  pesky conscience. Conscience could never be the best shopping partner. Brushing the nagging voice away, I reasoned. Surely, it would be a wise investment?  A peek in my wallet told me that I still had more than enough money to get me home after the purchase. Besides, several ATMs nearby were blinking their approval. A few stores later, I felt my resolution dissolve some more. I got to the point of no return when I saw a Victorian inspired blouse on a rack. It had a baby doll collar, puffy sleeves, and delicate buttons nestled on lacy frills.  “P150,” the sign screamed in bold fonts and a bright yellow background. Who could resist that? As soon as my find was stuffed in a plastic bag, I knew I was back in business, and after being just opened, so was the stall. “Buena mano,” said the saleslady. “Our first sale of the day” And with that, all 6 months of temperance went down the drain.

The great Singapore shopping swing. These girls can shop from sun up to sun down.

Beaded tops from Thailand were a bit expensive starting at P400, but the apparel for men was surprisingly cheap. We came upon a store that sold vintage inspired T-shirts and linen collared shirts for men. The linen shirt would look great with khakis or a pair of jeans even on these dreary wet days, and at P250, it would bring a lot of sunshine. But still, I haggled just for the fun of it and didn’t expect the store attendant to give it at P150. It was almost too good to be true. Apparently, haggling was a staple at Tutuban, and if you have the patience, persistence, and the confidence to bargain, you could get a really good deal. If you’re buying in bulk or whole sale (which usually starts at half a dozen), you can get up to 30% off on your purchase.

Best buy of the day: Audrey Hepburn-esque coat from Mango at almost half off.

  
Bargain bridals

One of my best friends got married several weeks ago.  As one of the bridesmaids, I wasn’t too happy with the gown that was tailor made for me at P7,500. Little did I know that for the same amount at Tutuban’s Cluster Mall, we could have gotten gowns for the bride and the entourage plus all the accessories and a little change for the bridal shower’s sexy dancer perhaps.   Of course, these gowns are far from couture. If Vera Wang or Monique Lhuillier’s presence is not important in your wedding, then  the bargain dresses at the Cluster Mall will make you a blushing bride out of the money you will be saving.

Starting at P1,500, the wedding gown comes complete with the pieces of accessories -  the cord, gloves, headdress, 2 pillows, garter, 1^st veil, 2^nd veil, petticoat and bouquet base. At that amount, don’t expect luxurious fabrics of silk and lace.  The floor length bridal satin dresses are simply embellished in inexpensive beads. The more elaborate gowns made of Taiwan georgette  and Japanese beads are tagged a bit higher from 6,000 pesos. Made to order dresses will cost as low as P1,500 as long as the design is chosen from the store’s catalogue.  

Known as the Paris of the Pacific, Guam is a tax free port. Do I hear "cha-ching!"?

Flower girl dresses start at P300 with an additional P30 per size increment. Bridesmaid dresses, prom gowns and debutante’s gowns start from P1,400. Taffeta cocktail dresses are a steal at P900 a piece. I made sure I got the dressmaker’s business card who enthusiastically informed me that made to order pieces can be picked up two weeks after placing the order.

Curtains and colorful banderitas

After the wedding, comes the home building. Tutuban stays true to its claim of being a one stop shop. Appliances, home furnishings and accessories are available at the Prime Mall. The curtain shops in particular caught my attention. Luxurious swags with crystals, valance window treatments and elaborate curtain sets are sold at a bargain. I was told that five star hotels and prominent political figures get their curtains and window treatments here.

Warming up at the Duty Free shop in Guam.

After the home furnishings and interiors have been put into place, it’s time to make some additions to the family. If kids are part of your family planning, Tutuban Mall keeps the tiny customers in mind. Toy stores are a brim with bargain toys mostly made in China. For children’s parties, the selection of party favours, decor and giveaways are delightful. It almost made me want to throw a party. This freedom from restraint, from months of temperance, is more than enough reason to celebrate. 

Watch out for my brands for less shopping article in Lifestyle Asia - Travel soon.

I went through the rows of cheap plastic toys with the heart of a child and marvelled at the colourful banderitas that go from P10 to 50 at 3 meters. Paper roundabout decors floated overhead, a joy not only for kids but for grownups too. They come in colourful designs that would look great hanging from the ceiling in any room. It’s a quirky alternative to the old and boring Japanese lanterns and at P35 to P66 a piece, I figured it wouldn’t hurt my pocket. Besides, with all my finds, the only things that hurt were my legs. As I exited the doors of the Prime Block,   both hands full of stuffed plastic bags, Bonifacio greeted me with what seemed like an approving smile. With my heart and my wallet lighter, my feet a little bit sore, I thought this was the best place to welcome back and embrace my truest self.

My name is Ana, and yes, I am a shopaholic.

Read More