Sta Ana, Manila: Reminiscences of Youth

They’ve elevated the center island where we used to “escape” at night to smoke cigarettes as 12-year-olds, to at least a foot more. So much for Marcos-era retro-look, as they said these changes will aesthetically improve that part of Sta Ana, Manila.

Comia's Bakery

Today, as I look back, I can only declare otherwise. While, even when they attempted to go “Green,” they failed. Blame it on poor taste, lack of local government budget, and foresight. Even hindsight. The same can be told of the small rotunda that interlaces M. Roxas, J. Syquia, Zamora, Revellin streets, one very ambitious “Man of God” has transformed the once (same as the center island) simple-designed, benched little part of this quiet district as a monument to "his" God. So much for "advancing."

That is why, as a long-time resident of Sta Ana, who had run-off to the suburbs in search of a new “home,” it breaks my heart to see what had become of a place where one grew up, became a man, and once dreamed within its boundaries and even its environs. “It looks so small now,” I spoke of it during a recent visit to a friend still lived there. And all I got from him was, “but it hasn’t changed.”

But of course it has changed. Sta Ana is bordered by Makati City in the south, Mandaluyong to the east, Pandacan to the north and Paco on its west. If you haven’t visited for a long time, you will be surprised to see that the Sta Ana Park, where races are held at least three times a week, is no more. Rumor has it that someone’s going to build a mall in place of the old, once art-deco structure where many great races have been held. Well, the bright side of it: no more smelly “kwadras” that line Hippodromo Street. But, well, nobody lives near anyway, except for a few. Anyway in college, I used to frequent the racing club with a friend to bet on races, but only on small amounts. That place will surely be missed.

A few years ago, I read in a magazine that they were tearing down the old Jesuit house on Padro Gil (in front of the center island!), I don’t know the reason why, but it should be preserved as this building has sort of become a landmark already. Beside this is the O. B. Montessori School, where I studied along with my brothers and sisters; at least the big centuries-old tree near the flagpole has been left untouched. As a small boy, I used to wonder if those mabolo fruits that grew from the Jesuit House side that dropped like flies on our school grounds were edible or not. No one ever dared to even taste these exotic-looking mysterious crops. I wonder if the famous Reverend Father James B. Reuter still resides there. He probably does not.

Nestled on a nice lot on the west bank of the Pasig River bisected by the Manila-Makati boundary is the Manila Boatclub, home of rowers and squash enthusiasts. The main building (the only building, actually) is a reminder of our American Colonial past. There is a huge and long U-shaped glossy wooden mahogany (or teakwood) bar, where weary old-rich businessmen congregate to worship San Miguel…yes, the beer. I spent many nights with friends and girls guzzling free beer from the bar, and relaxing on Holy Week on the tables with huge umbrellas at the lawn just a few meters from the murky river. The best time to go there is when someone celebrates his or her birthday. The place, I heard, is slowly deteriorating. Well, another landmark going kaput.

If you’ve been to UP (University of the Philippines), you’ll be so much surprised that the Sta Ana Elementary School looks just the same inside, only much more smaller. This is the place where I had my first chance to vote during the Presidential Elections of 1946; that’s how old I am. But if you know me personally, I’m not. I just feel like it. At any rate, in front of this imposing school on M. Roxas Street are rows of stores that cater to students and passersby. A friend reminded me of his own recollection, that, during the Christmas season, he would be there to buy gifts. One of the more well-known merchant (at least at that time) was this lady with a face pock-marked with "butlig," the english translation of which escapes me now. Of course there was this section where you can rent, for a minimal rate (and I mean 10 cents per hour) reading materials usually comics. The favorites in the eighties then were always those "Funny Comics," our equivalent to the National Lampoon or Mad Magazines. Mention "Planet Opdi Eyps" to anyone who grew up in the 80s and they would undeniably recognize it.

There’s a new hospital that was built a few years back, a spanking new one in place of the old Trinity Hospital. If my memory serves me right, it’s the new Sta Ana Hospital, where you can be diagnosed of cancer and the like. Honestly, I don’t like going to hospitals, even if it means having to visit someone; a friend or even a relative at that. It gives me the creeps.

The old houses on Lamayan Street, along the Pasig River on the east side of town are famous not only for their architecture but also for its storied past. A hundred or so years ago when the city of Manila was in fact only Intramuros (meaning “inside the walls”), there exist too, the “Extramuros,” or outside the walls, as the story goes anyway. Later on I think these places outside the city were called Arrables, and Sta Ana was one of such.

Rich nobles built their summer houses along the banks of the Pasig, just like those homes of rich plantation owners of yore. Well, some of these houses stood the test of time, the horrors of war, corruption, disease, natural and man-made disasters, echeblahblah…There are even stories that these houses are haunted, more notably the one owned by socialite Maurice Arcache. The Ocampos, a long-time political family, also still maintains a huge house there. Now they only have to clean the big pool regularly if they want to impress visitors during parties there.

Although long gone, the Sta Ana Cabaret (pronounced as Caberey) boasted of being the largest dance hall in the world; only old photos of it can prove this now, if you happen to know where to look for these photos. The Cansons owned this, and an article written by a certain Rey Vicente once wrote about the night club on the Philippine Daily Inquirer. All you need is to Google it. In the eighties, there used to be a place along Tejeron Street just before the Makati border called Aquarius, and the façade of the old building looked like an American tavern during the Wild West. It’s gone now, and in place are commercial establishments who sell electronic gadgets and the like, and the Puregold Shopping Complex.

Not far from the madding crowd and rush is the Lambingan Bridge, famous for its trapezoid span, now improved with steel watchamacallit. It serves as somehow the “official” entry point from the market street of Kalentong, if one is coming from nearby Mandaluyong and San Juan, and honestly it looks better before, less the improvements on the whole bridge today. Pedro Gil, Sta Ana’s main artery runs from the Lambingan Bridge, making a short left and right through the church, and beyond. The Sta Ana Church is about a million years old, and yet there’s nothing much to see there, although I once saw the Philippine Philharmonic Orchestra perform inside its cavernous halls. It’s also a place of worship, and if you don’t really mind much of religion you can always say pass. I was baptized and had my confirmation there, as all boys do in this side of the world.

The presence of Spanish influence is still evident in these parts, as preserved Spanish-style homes are still aplenty. Our house on Revellin Street before, for instance, is the perfect example of the Bahay-na-Bato house. Meaning, its first floor is made of stone, while the second is of wood material usually normal plywood these days. The Batungbacal residence is one lovely sight to behold: a perfect example of Spain’s architecture. Also, there used to be a lone tennis court on Medel Street, it must be an American idea inspired by the American colonial masters’ penchant for recreational activities. I think even that court is gone now.

There’s this warning of old, that in the deep woods unfamiliar, do not go astray. In Sta Ana, the deep woods are beyond Pasig Line Street, where the motley crue of thieves, gangsters, ex-convicts, addicts, kidnappers roam. In the daytime it’s fairly alright, and there’s a small Talipapa where they sell a variety of fish. But at dark, they sell drugs and flesh. Anyway, Pasig Line is the old Tranvia line built by the Americans, where the Tranvia, or an electric street car ferry people from the old city to many outlying areas. The Pasig Line brings you to Pasig, Tramo Line to Tramo, and so on and so forth.

Every town has a place to hangout. Sta Ana of course, is no exception. At the corner of Suter and Calderon Streets, accross the Plaza Hugo was Eng Nga, an eatery cum bar where locals frequent to have a gastronomic treat of Filipino-Chinese cooking. Here, one gets to sample a variety of peculiar dishes unique from other Chinese eateries that one would experience from other places like the ones in Binondo, or one of the haunts with college buddies' in Pasay where they serve stuff like Hototay and a assortment of other dishes like Mami, etc...

At Eng Nga (the name of the Chinese owner), one may try one of the many favorites such as the Alanganin, the very palatable Torta, the irresistible, well, Hototay, and who would resist the much-loved "Gising-Gising" which is the preferred "Pulutan" of the residents who savour and reserve Sundays for simply loosening-up or family gatherings that often call for cases of beer.

When I was still still learning how to drive in the late 80's, I often volunteered to run errands for my dad and big brothers for the purchase of gising-gisings. Legend has it that even after a protracted bout of revelry when one already felt the alcohol interfering with one's normal brain activity and purpose, one only had to finish at least three spoonfulls of the chili vegetable mix and you'll be back to where you started.

Anyway, we would all hang-out at Eng Nga's unfailingly because well, it was there. Before the old man Eng Nga passed away, you would see him manning the counter (and the cash register) while the beehive activity was going on. Many may opt to sit silently on one corner and sip beer during the afternoon before dusk, or engage in lengthy chatter, either for the latest gossip, both the latest race and cockfighting results, or whatever was the latest that day.

Basketball was big in Sta Ana, and during the summer, before and even after the Town Fiesta was to be celebrated (May 12), like a herd of sheep, people would flock the Plaza Hugo where this annual games are held. All roads lead to this place. My two brothers would join the fray, but me and my friends opted to check-out the newest clubs in nearby Makati or just hung around the neighborhood. Later, my cousin Cesar Montano (yes, the actor) would start his own league there to pay homage to the place where he grew up. Anyway, for lack of other things to do, I usually watched the games with a select group of friends.

There was once a Florofoto branch near the place we rented (before we finally left in 1980 for Revellin Street), and I wonder if there are still Florofotos in the Philippines. It's like an older version of those Kodak photo developing places. It's a crazy thought that once, my cousin (who's now in the States) and I used to compete and debate on whether Sta Ana or Paranaque (where he used to live) was the better place to reside. Because today, I have chosen to live farther away not because it's nearer to where I work, but the memories seems to have been reduced somehow.

Before I left Sta Ana, there was bitterness in me, not because I had to leave, but because the place was not the same anymore. Where I once walked the street to buy something nearby at night without being mugged, today you have to do it with caution. Where once the early Sunday trip to the market with my mother meant riding those turn-of-the-century tricycles with huge wheels, I guess today either you walk or have to use your car. The motorcycles’ number has also ballooned, creating too much traffic and pollution: That alone causes stress. This is not the Sta Ana that I used to know.

Image credit:  Certified Nut (She has more to say about Sta. Ana.)