If These Walls Could Talk June 11, 2011, Saturday

When I first heard about If These Walls Could Talk - a walking tour of historical Manila, but strangely enough, set in downtown Vancouver, I reacted with skepticism, but also curiosity. My first reaction was to google-stalk Carlos Celdran, the creator of this tour; I learned he was a figure of some controversy. Petitioning for reproductive rights in the Philippines. Creating a walking tour called "Living la Vida Imelda." Protesting against the involvement of the Catholic church in Philippine politics.

The particular tour proved to be both educational and entertaining. I was a little late, out of breath, and uncertain as to where Cathedral Square was located, but I was able to recognize I was in the right place by the large gathering of Filipinos and the hand-held signs plastered with Carlos' face and the event poster (and, of course, the cathedral). Dressed in a top hat and barong (a fancy Filipino shirt), Carlos greeted the crowd with a broad smile and comedian-like stylings. Over the course of the evening, he would also don an Uncle Sam hat and a military hat and a pipe, depending on section of Manila's history he was riffing about. He began by leading the crowd into a singing of the Filipino national anthem. For myself, I was able to sing the first stanza (even though I couldn't begin to tell you what the lyrics meant) but petered out mumblingly during the second stanza, having never learned the rest of the song in my childhood.

Carlos led the crowd and several interested stragglers around downtown Vancouver, starting with Cathedral Square where he discussed the influence of Catholic friars on the government and their role in the retention of the Filipino language, then onwards to another site, talking about Jose Rizal, the handover of the Philippines from Spain to the States, and then Victory Square, and the destruction of Manila in World War II. The location of each site had a tenuous connection to the subject matter, but what mattered most wasn't the surroundings, but Carlos' grasp of the historical material and the handy portfolio of large-scale historical photos that he carried around with him.

Just to make clear, my own knowledge of Filipino history is sorely lacking. In a third grade play, I did play a fruit seller whose fruit stand was kicked over by the same Spanish soldiers who had just executed Jose Rizal, the national hero of the Philippines and whose only line was "oh no!" as my oranges and grapes got knocked around (I'm pretty sure you can read about that poor put-upon fruit seller in any reputable Philippine history book). But other than that, even after living 9 years in the Philippines (and, no, I can't speak Tagalog), I wouldn't be able to write a page of what I know about Philippine history. I knew that it had been colonized by a bunch of countries (Spain, USA). I could recognize names of presidents and national heroes. At a young age, I was under the general impression that the Marcoses were jerks and that the government was corrupt and that I couldn't trust the police either.

In this tour, I learned:
- the Philippines was under a fundamentalist theocracy in its early history. Carlos even compared the pope to Osama Bin Laden and the Catholic theocracy to Al Qaeda, which drew a couple of gasps from the crowd. Although the priests and friars did stuff like help the Filipinos keep their native dialects alive, Catholic friars also did things like...shoot the Spanish governor-general in the head when they didn't agree with him.
- the appointment of Jose Rizal was largely due to American influence. They chose Jose Rizal probably because he was a pretty amazing guy (spoke 22 languages, was a poet, historian, writer, etc., inspired a revolution) but mostly also because he was dead, wasn't controversial, and therefore wouldn't cause any trouble. (and, oh my goodness, wikipedia is telling me he was an ophthalmologist as well. An ophthalmologist, people.)
- the famous picture of General Douglas MacArthur arriving on Leyte Beach during World War II after he said "I shall return," was taken three times. The first time, he fell in the water. The second time was because - of course, he had to re-take the picture with dry pants. The third time was because they'd learned that Life magazine was coming to take pictures the next day so they had to re-enact the arrival.

However, the major thing to take away from the tour, and something that Carlos emphasized time and time again was not to underestimate what Manila was and still is. A beautiful city known as the "Pearl of the Orient," a city that connected the East to the West, a multicultural city combining Spanish charm and American industrialism into something that was uniquely Filipino. But a city that was also almost completely destroyed during World War II (it was the second most devastated city in the world next to Warsaw).

At the end of the tour, Carlos compared Manila to "halo-halo" - a Filipino dessert that, literally translated, means, "mix-mix," - a mixture of cultures and influences (by the way, the above pictures is of halo-halo -- it's better than it looks). To me, I always saw Manila as a city of extremes and contradictions - tall skyscrapers next to a mound of shacks; the biggest mall in Asia filled to the brim with shoppers while outside, beggars begged on street corners; the rotund wealthy working out in fitness centres to rid themselves of fat while others survived on one meal a day; a place where sales people would become strangely obsequious once they heard me speak in my "American English." And yet, when I think on my own experience with Manila, ultimately, I have fond memories - and upon the end of Carlos' walking tour, a greater appreciation of what Manila is and what it could be. And just like General MacArthur, one day I will return.