One Nostalgic Afternoon in Jaro, Iloilo

On my recent trip to Iloilo, I intended not to end my visit without returning to the Jaro Cathedral. From my hotel near the Provincial Capitol, it took only a more or less fifteen-minute bus ride to Jaro Plaza, for a fare of just thirteen pesos.

As I stepped down from the bus beside the plaza, it suddenly began to drizzle, so I sought shelter at a sidewalk fruit stand. I bought an apple and began eating it as I placed my jacket over my head before continuing my walk toward the plaza.

Nothing much seemed to have changed since the last time I was here in 2023. It was so relaxing to be back, enjoying the walk and taking in the familiar surroundings—students, friends, and families strolling around, sitting in different corners, and some gathered at the iconic gazebo. I saw again the monuments of renowned people of the town, including Graciano López Jaena, the great propagandist and editor of La Solidaridad.

I then took delight in having my photo taken beside the old bell tower, with the cathedral standing across the highway. Since I was alone, I had to ask a lady sitting on a bench to take the photo for me.

I then crossed the road toward the cathedral. It was almost noon, so I had to endure the heat, made more oppressive by the haze that was reportedly drifting from the Indonesian wildfires. I climbed the stairs toward the encased image of Our Lady of Candelaria. There, I offered a prayer of thanksgiving and asked for guidance. I then went down and entered the cathedral, where Mass was already being celebrated.

After the Mass, I went to the front pew of the cathedral and prayed some more. Afterwards, I proceeded to the Shrine of Our Lady of Candelaria, lit a candle, and offered another prayer. I then treated myself to an ice cream from a small store in the churchyard before entering the religious store, where I bought a little prayer book, Lord of Pardon.

I eventually made my way back to the plaza. There, I came across a mobile library. I spoke with the personnel assigned to it, who told me that it was a project of the city government aimed at promoting the habit of reading. I told them how impressed I was with the initiative. One of the men then mentioned that I could also visit some heritage houses within the city. He pointed me to Casa Mariquit, which was just a block away from the plaza.

I went straight there, and in a few moments, I found myself standing before what I was told was one of the oldest heritage houses in Iloilo.

The guide told me that the house was constructed in 1803 by the Javellana family, making it more than two centuries old. He said that it had not undergone any major renovation since its construction. The Javellanas once owned a hacienda in the area, and what is now a bustling urban neighborhood was once a vast tract of agricultural land belonging to the family.

The house later became the residence of Vice President Fernando Lopez and his wife, Maria Salvacion Javellana, whose nickname was Mariquit, meaning “beautiful.” Fernando Lopez served as Vice President during the administration of Ferdinand Marcos Sr., while Maria Salvacion was the granddaughter of the original occupants of the house.

Casa Mariquit is made of red bricks and hardwood. It is so spacious that one can easily imagine it accommodating a large family gathering. The house is filled with memorabilia—old furniture, paintings, portraits, plaques, religious images, and many other reminders of a bygone era. I was also told that Pope John Paul II visited the house during his visit to the Philippines in the 1980s.

Anyone who wants to get a glimpse of how life must have been for a wealthy Filipino family in the nineteenth century should visit this house. It is grand, dignified, and evocative of the social life of affluent Filipino families during the olden days. More than a heritage structure, it feels like a living window into a past that is slowly disappearing.

I ended my visit by buying some biscocho at the nearby Biscocho House.

Truly, Iloilo has a way of making the heart beat a little faster for things that feel familiar, nostalgic, and reflective. There is something about walking through its old streets, visiting its sacred places, encountering its heritage, and discovering little things along the way that makes one pause and remember.

And on that afternoon in Jaro, I realized that sometimes, the best part of traveling is not discovering something entirely new, but returning to something familiar—and seeing it again with a different heart.

 

 

Nuestra Señora de Salvacion of Lavezares

The devotion of Lavezaresnons to Nuestra Señora de Salvación (Our Lady of Salvation) can be traced back to the time when Spanish missionaries established the Lavezares Church, even before it was formally established as a parish between 1894 and 1895. It is believed that this devotion was brought by Bicolano immigrants, who composed a significant portion of the early settlers of Lavezares. This is plausible, considering that devotion to Nuestra Señora de Salvación is deeply rooted in Bicol. She is, in fact, the official patroness of the Province of Albay and one of the most revered Marian titles in the Bicol Region, with the devotion prominently centered in Tiwi, Albay.

The feast of Nuestra Señora de Salvación was traditionally observed in Lavezares every August 15. However, in the 1970s, the Bishop transferred its celebration to August 22, as August 15 also coincides with the feast day of Our Lady of the Assumption in Palapag. This arrangement was made because the Bishop could not be present to celebrate Mass in both towns on the same day. It was also said that the change was prompted by the clamor of provincial politicians, as moving the celebration to August 22 would allow them to attend both fiestas in the two towns. At that time, the province had not yet been divided into two congressional districts.

There were two particularly popular images of the patroness among the people of Lavezares. The first was an old image depicting Our Lady dressed in yellow and blue, with her right hand extended toward a man seemingly drowning in a sea of fire, while her left hand held the folds of her garment. The image was a striking representation of the Blessed Virgin Mary as a compassionate intercessor and protector of those seeking salvation. It was traditionally placed at the center of the altar, with golden rays extending behind her.

The second was a smaller image, measuring more than a foot in height, depicting Mama Mary dressed in traditional white and blue garments and carrying the Child Jesus. The image weighed nearly a kilogram and was traditionally kept on a base and enclosed in a protective case. During devotional practices, it was customary to remove the image from its case and perform what the locals called “patamak,” a practice in which the base of the image was gently placed or passed over the body of a devotee, often tracing the sign of the cross. Devotees who underwent this practice would often testify to experiencing immediate relief from their ailments or even being healed of their sicknesses.

The practice was also commonly observed during birthdays. After offering a prayer and lighting a candle beside the image’s case, the celebrant would undergo the “patamak” as an expression of faith and devotion to Mama Mary.

Unfortunately, the image disappeared sometime around the year 2000 and was never seen again. Its disappearance remains a sad loss to the people of Lavezares, particularly to those who experienced and cherished the tradition surrounding the image.

My Romance with Radio

I practically grew up with a transistor radio glued to my ears. As early as elementary school, I was already tuning in to various radio stations from Bicol and parts of the Visayas, including Bacolod, Roxas, and Iloilo. I enjoyed listening to news, music, and radio soap operas.

Doing the laundry in the streams, which was common in our community then, was always accompanied by the sound of transistor radios broadcasting drama serials. It was a familiar sight to see women washing clothes while following the latest episode of their favorite radio dramas. I knew this firsthand because my mother would often bring me with her to the stream to help carry the laundry in a palanggana balanced on my head.

There was no television in our community during the 1980s, so radio was the primary source of news and entertainment for most families. Batteries for transistor radios were common household items. As the batteries gradually lost their power, the radio's volume would slowly fade until the sound became almost a whisper. At that point, people would leave the batteries under the scorching heat of the sun, hoping they would regain enough power to keep the radio playing, even if only for a short while. Once they were completely drained, it was time to buy a new set. There was always a sense of excitement when fresh batteries made the radio come alive at full volume. Equally memorable was the struggle of trying to catch every word as the batteries weakened and the sound slowly faded away.

In 1991, a powerful typhoon struck our town. Because our house was made only of nipa, bamboo, and wood, we evacuated to the concrete house of a relative nearby. While the fierce winds howled outside, my uncle kept his transistor radio on. I remember hearing a radio announcer effortlessly answering a caller's question. My uncle told me it was Ernie Baron, who was known as the "Walking Encyclopedia" because he could answer almost any trivia question in the blink of an eye. I instantly admired him.

I searched for the radio's tuner and committed the station's frequency to memory. I later learned it was DZMM, with its memorable tagline, "Ang himpilan ng malayang mamamayan." From that moment on, the twelve-year-old boy in me was never the same.

The following evening, I tuned our transistor radio to DZMM. The signal was usually weak during the early evening but became much clearer as the night grew deeper. From 6:30 to 8:00 p.m., I listened to the melodious voice of Gel Santos-Relos on her programs Punto por Punto and Relos Reports. It was my first time hearing a female broadcast journalist deliver the news in Filipino with such grace and authority. I still remember the goosebumps I felt. Her voice was gentle yet commanding. From then on, I became one of her loyal listeners.

Every night, I would fall asleep with the transistor radio beside my pillow. When I woke up before dawn, I would hear the familiar voices of Gani Oro and the Radyo Patrol reporters on Gising Pilipinas, the morning news program, until the signal gradually faded as the sun rose.

In 1994, the Manila Broadcasting Company launched its One Nation, One Station campaign, making DZRH's signal accessible throughout the country, twenty-four hours a day. Through DZRH, I discovered veteran journalists such as Joe Taruc and Deo Macalma. I also became captivated by its drama programs, especially Matud Nila and Tiya Dely, among many others. I divided my listening time between DZMM and DZRH, enjoying the best that both stations had to offer.

Looking back, I can confidently say that listening to these seasoned and credible broadcasters profoundly influenced the person I have become. It was through them that I developed my communication skills, which later helped me become a campus journalist in both high school and college. Those years of listening also prepared me to become a host and master of ceremonies at countless community events in the years that followed.

More importantly, radio taught me lessons that went beyond communication. It nurtured in me a deep respect for truth, a commitment to public service, and the belief that words, when spoken with integrity, competence, and compassion, have the power to inform, inspire, and transform lives.

Pagalang

When I was in elementary school, politeness and courtesy were two important character traits that our parents and teachers instilled in us. So, I grew up with greetings on my mind and lips as my default response every time I met people at any time of the day. It became second nature to me. Once, I had a visitor from Manila, and she observed that I greeted the people I saw along the way to our house. She commented that I could be a good politician because of the way I smiled and greeted almost everyone.

It is so saddening today that the basics of courtesy and politeness are no longer the norm. They have become a rarity. Sometimes, I am the one who greets young people first whenever I pass by them. It seems that many of them are so absorbed in playing on their cellphones that they do not care at all to notice anyone, especially adults, around them. Cursing and vulgar expressions have become common. Some parents do not bother correcting these children at all.

No doubt, these children's exposure to a culture of hate is the culprit. This culture pervades social media, and young people are its prey. So, what will happen to these children and the succeeding generations if they grow up in such a culture of hate? And what does the future hold for our communities?

I join the call of more than 20 countries to ban or restrict social media use by children. These countries include, among others, Australia, China, Malaysia, Brazil, and many more. Parents should also be educated on the wise use of social media and other information platforms. Schools should also pay attention to developing proper values among learners, especially the Filipino value of pakikipagkapwa-tao.

Some would say it is better to have a dirty mouth yet have compassion for others than to utter pure words while one's actions speak the opposite. For me, there is no better substitute than a pure mind, lips, heart, and hands—all in harmony and aligned with one another.

The Joy of Volunteering

I talked about Volunteerism, Climate, and Disaster Resilience before young people during the Provincial Learning Camp of the Pag-asa Youth Association of the Philippines (PYAP) – Northern Samar, held on July 11, 2026, here in my hometown of Lavezares.

I started my talk by asking the participants, “Para kanino ka bumabangon?” I took this question from a coffee commercial. I wanted them to think and ponder what keeps them going every day. Some participants answered that they get up every day for their families; others said for their dreams, while some said for their jowas. The last answer drew giggles from the room.

I assured them that all their answers were correct because they all came from their hearts. I told them that whatever or whoever they wake up for should contribute to the development of their whole personality. A well-developed person bears the fruits of genuine and wholehearted service to the family and the community. In the highest and most ideal sense of the word, service should be rendered voluntarily, without expecting anything in return.

Volunteering is a noble act of charity that no amount of material compensation can match. It is an act of self-giving so that others in need may have something more. Volunteering is priceless because what is being given is one's most valuable resource—time—which the volunteer willingly chooses to devote to others instead of spending it on activities that provide only personal pleasure.

Notwithstanding the fact that volunteering is not a glamorous endeavor and offers no material reward, the joy and fulfillment of giving, coupled with the thought that one has contributed to addressing societal and environmental problems, uplift the spirit and inspire one to strive for greater heights.

Volunteering for climate action and disaster resilience is a worthwhile endeavor. Regardless of one's age, whether young or old, everyone can make a difference because caring for the Earth is everybody's responsibility. There are many simple ways to contribute, such as participating in waste segregation campaigns, joining tree-growing activities, and serving as a member of a rescue or relief operations team, among many others.

Such voluntary acts may not provide monetary rewards, but they undoubtedly give a sense of purpose, keep one grounded, and bring a beautiful and genuine smile that comes from a fulfilled heart.

Cool Days in Baguio City: A Summer Travel Story

 It is my childhood dream to one day visit the City of Pines and be able to feel the cold weather and roam around the city. For years, the scent and feel of Baguio were a reality to me but only in my imagination.

 

Baguio is dubbed as the summer capital of the Philippines. It is the perfect place to escape the scorching heat of the summer sun. Hence, I feel so blessed to come to the city right in the middle of the summer month of May.

 

It was three o’clock in the afternoon when our group left Manila on board a passenger bus to take us to Baguio. It was a seven-hour long ride but it was not boring at all. I have enjoyed the wide and smooth expressways as we traversed from Manila to Clark all the way to the provinces of Pampanga, Pangasinan and La Union then up to Baguio City. The sceneries of wide agricultural fields and the countryside along the roads were captivating and relaxing.

 

Serious and funny talks with our group mates and eating with them made us ignore time and distance until we reached Baguio City. We arrived there at 10 o’clock in the evening. The moment I stepped down from the bus, I took my first breathe and had my first feel of the Baguio cold night time weather. It was really cold as if the entire place has a centralized aircon. Our host took us for a late dinner in a cozy restaurant. The food tastes so good. Right there, we proceeded to our hotel and slept so deep the entire evening without turning on the aircon.

 

The following morning, we got up early and braced ourselves for a day long tour. Our first stop was the Baguio Cathedral. What a beautiful postcard perfect view of the church. It is so romantic lovers would fall in love with it and fell more in love with a partner. We went up through several stairs and had some pictures taken at the crucified Jesus. The cathedral’s ground was quite huge and the cathedral’s façade is perfectly-designed like those in Europe. I went inside it and prayed; of course, thanking God for making this childhood dream came true.

 

On a rented van, we rode our way to the Baguio Botanical Park. We had some photos taken at the gate together with the natives wearing the traditional Igorot outfits. Then off we went to the Mansion, the summer residence of the president of the Philippines when he or she is in Baguio. We had some photos taken but only at the gate because people are not allowed to enter the compound.

 

Across the street, we had some photos on a standee of Igorot male and female figures with our face on top. We also have some photos with a gigantic and scary looking dog. All were allowed for a fee.

 

We proceeded to the Mines View Park which is a few minutes away from the city center. There were lots of merchandise like colorful flowers and souvenir items while walking our way to the famous viewing deck. It was really a sight to behold standing on top looking down at the layers of mountain ranges and ocean of greeneries below. The fogs were caressing the top of the vegetation even as I have to lock my thick jacket as it was too cold.  Then, it started to drizzle and so we have to move quickly back to the entrance. We gathered by the ice cream parlor beside the gate and tasted for the first time the strawberry-flavored coned ice cream.

 

Our next place to visit was the Bell Church, which is a Buddhist Temple. Huge welcome landmarks tower the compound. Once inside, you can see the tall and iconic pagoda but before reaching it you will be walking on series of stairs alongside which are some Buddhist’s religious figures. Bougainvilla mostly of red and pink were in full bloom adding more vibrance to this place of worship for Buddhists. A few minutes from here is the Tam-awan Village which we have explored as it features some traditional houses of the Igorots. We even went up the slopes of the hill for a bit of hiking adventure. Down the hill is a small store cum restaurant in which gallery of paintings of some local artists adorned the walls.

 

We rode passed the highways going to the town center of La Trinidad, Benguet. I was really amazed by the several kilometers stretch of walls that shelter the Benguet State University (BSU). I would assume BSU is one of the largest universities in the country in terms of land area. By minutes passed 12 noon, we were already at the famous Strawberry Farm which is located at the further end of BSU. What a huge farm it is. The strawberry plantation is sprawled on a huge flat terrain where strawberries are planted as far as one’s eyes could see.  There were these long lines of stores where we bought some processed strawberry jam and other sweet products for pasalubong. While the farm is the farthest in our itinerary, our leisurely trip did not end here. We are even off to some more awesome spots as we went back to the city.

 

We passed by the picturesque Colors of StoBoSa, La Trinidad, a hilly neighborhood of painted houses of varied hues as if turning the entire the village into a living canvas. We took some photos while in the middle of the hanging bridge and bought some souvenir stuff by the cliff’s edge. 

 

Minutes passed and we were already at the Stone Kingdom, a newest attraction in Baguio. By its entrance are two giant monuments of Igorot kings both clad in the traditional outfit made of loin cloth called bahag with headdress on top standing tall holding a long dagger the edge of which touching the ground. As I entered the man-made kingdom, I draw a sigh of amazement looking up the structures of passageways going up the hillsides all made of small-sized thousands of white coral stones symmetrically assembled on top of the other. At the other side is what I presumed to be the kingdom hall. These narrow stone pathways and kingdom hall were all carved on the slopes of a hill encircling the expanse of the square. We slowly and carefully walked thru the small paths layer by layer until we reached the highest point. I find it quite tricky walking down the hill thru the narrow paths as just a small misstep may spell an accident.

 

As if not yet contented with the little hiking adventure, we went up to the overpass that connects the two sides of the hill passing thru the square. While in the middle of the overpass bridge, we observed that it was getting darker and we saw from the west side mounds of moving fog carried by the gentle wind approaching from where we are. As it was getting nearer, we hurried down the hill afraid that the thick fog might engulf us as well as the entire place.

 

After a few minutes ride, we went to the haunted Diplomat Hotel and found it to be dilapidated and nearing collapse reason why visitors are no longer allowed to enter. We just satisfy ourselves walking around the yard surrounding the building and just looked at it imagining how it may have looked like when it was used as hotel and then later as hospital during the American and Japanese periods and in the succeeding decades and today when maybe ghosts of any kinds reside on it. Diplomat Hotel has been featured a lot of times on television shows along with spirit questors, hence, it was me now wondering in real life if horror stories in this haunted hotel were real.

 

To cap our day trip, we had an unplanned pilgrimage to the Our Lady of Lourdes Grotto nearby. I took the more than 250 steps going up the grotto. Along the staircases are some religious statues of saints and sorrowful mysteries. I said little prayers while on a small stop on these statues. When I reached the grotto atop the hill, I was so happy at my age I can still make it and miraculously I have not felt any tiredness. I prayed for thanksgiving at the foot of the tall statue of Our Lady of Lourdes. I have also prayed on my knees on a chapel a few steps beside the grotto.

 

We went back to our hotel by dusk already. Tired as we are, we slept early.

 

On our second day, we strolled around the Burnham Park. It was a dream come true for me to be in this park that was named after its designer Daniel Burnhan, one of the world’s famous urban planners who came to the Philippines in the early period of American colonial period at the turn of the 20^th century. Burnham was also commissioned to design the city’s centers of Manila, Cebu, and Davao. For us environmental planners, he is considered as the forerunner of City Beautiful Movement. The park is huge enough to accommodate hundreds of daily visitors. Its green expanse is dotted with lines of pine trees, other native trees and long walkways. At the center is a picturesque huge lagoon where one can experience boat ride. At one side of the lagoon, one can wear for a rent some Igorot native costume. On the outskirts of the park, one can ride for a rent on bicycle or little jeeps for fun. My group just enjoyed ourselves walking around thru the pathways.

 

From the park, we walked our way to the Baguio Public Market which I consider as the cleanest wet and vegetable market I have been to. Pathways were spacious enough to accommodate huge number of market goers. Vegetables sold were all fresh and reasonably priced as well as pasalubong items. When we passed by a coffee store, I was allured by the coffee’s aroma wafting thru that portion of the marketplace. On a thrift store, I bought a used Adidas jacket that was lowly priced.

 

We rode on a bus that took us to SM Baguio. We spent several hours there and bought some more items. After taking our dinner, we leisurely walked our way from the street along the vicinity of the mall to the famous Session Road now transformed into a long avenue of night stores selling used apparels of all types. I bought myself a jacket. It was really a tiresome long walk passing thru humongous people that crowded the stores. Once we got off from the crowded stores, we turned to a stretch of food stalls gallery on an open space at the Burnham Park.

 

It was already passed ten in the evening and there were no taxis that were passing by. We decided to just walk our way to our hotel. We passed thru a steep road up. Our feet were already aching even before we reached the hotel. Laying my back on my bed, I felt so exhausted but it was worth it. I will never forget Baguio. It was so cold and so cool and awfully a wonderful city. If there is another chance, I would surely find my way to be here again.

 

 

Journeying on Pilgrimage 2026

The best thing about joining a pilgrimage is the opportunity to visit sacred places in a prayerful and reflective way, together with a large number of fellow pilgrims. This Lenten season, I joined the pilgrimage organized by our parish. We visited eight churches in the Diocese of Catarman, including Salvacion Parish in Laoang, the Rawis Mission Center in Laoang, Saint Roche Parish in San Roque, the Monastery of Saint Clare, Mondragon Parish, Dalakit Church in Catarman, San Jose Parish, and Rosario Parish—all located in the province of Northern Samar.

Our take-off point was, of course, our parish church, the Our Lady of the Assumption Church. We began with our opening prayers a little past five in the morning, and by six, we were already on our way to Laoang. Along the journey, we prayed the 20 mysteries of the Rosary, followed by the Chaplet of the Divine Mercy.

In less than two hours, we arrived at Rawis Port, where we boarded a small boat, locally known as a sampan, bound for the island municipality of Laoang. From the port, we took a tricycle to the jump-off point going to the island barangay of Salvacion. I was especially excited to visit this place, particularly the church known as a pilgrimage site for devotees of Our Lady of the Salvation.

Before noon, the Holy Mass was celebrated. Afterward, we prayed before the venerated image of Our Lady of Salvation, which closely resembles the miraculous image we once had in Lavezares that was sadly stolen decades ago.

By noontime, we were back at Rawis Church. At around 1:00 PM, we arrived at San Roque Church, followed by Mondragon Church. At nearly 2:00 PM, we reached the Monastery of Saint Clare, where we offered our prayers and then took our lunch. Shortly before 3:00 PM, we proceeded to Dalakit Church. By 4:00 PM, we were at San Jose Church, and by 4:30 PM, at Rosario Church. At around 5:00 PM, we safely returned to Lavezares.

It is always a heartwarming experience to journey with hundreds of pilgrims—praying together, sharing life experiences, and walking side by side in one direction, united in our desire to grow closer to God.

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