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.