Travelife Magazine Domestic Editor at Large Gabby Malvar visits a preserved colonial town just two hours from Manila.
Taal is a fascinating town. A former capital of one of the Philippine’s most affluent provinces it enjoyed its share of opulence during its heyday, when sugar and coffee prices were at their height. A lesser known fact is that like Vigan, it is one of the country’s most preserved towns featuring a rich colonial heritage.
From Lemery, I entered Taal and immediately noticed the town’s layout. Straight, narrow roads crossed at right angles, forming grids that inclined upwards, in the direction of the Basilica at the pinnacle of a hill. Archetypal to Spanish colonial towns, a central plaza (spilt-level though in Taal’s case) fronted the massive church, enclosed by the customary Municipio and the splendid homes of renowned families. The façade of two-level bahay-na-bato structures rested at the boundaries of the main streets running downhill from the plaza. The roof levels following the sloping terrain, cascading downward in disjointed layers like an enormous staircase.
The layout was distinctive to all towns constructed during the Spanish colonial period. However, unlike other Spanish settlements, Taal was built on elevated, inclined ground. The Basilica lorded over the entire town, suggesting a definitive hierarchy between the Catholic Church and its flock.
Taal is a fascinating town. A former capital of one of the Philippine’s most affluent provinces it enjoyed its share of opulence during its heyday, when sugar and coffee prices were at their height. A lesser known fact is that like Vigan, it is one of the country’s most preserved towns featuring a rich colonial heritage.
From Lemery, I entered Taal and immediately noticed the town’s layout. Straight, narrow roads crossed at right angles, forming grids that inclined upwards, in the direction of the Basilica at the pinnacle of a hill. Archetypal to Spanish colonial towns, a central plaza (spilt-level though in Taal’s case) fronted the massive church, enclosed by the customary Municipio and the splendid homes of renowned families. The façade of two-level bahay-na-bato structures rested at the boundaries of the main streets running downhill from the plaza. The roof levels following the sloping terrain, cascading downward in disjointed layers like an enormous staircase.
The layout was distinctive to all towns constructed during the Spanish colonial period. However, unlike other Spanish settlements, Taal was built on elevated, inclined ground. The Basilica lorded over the entire town, suggesting a definitive hierarchy between the Catholic Church and its flock.
Breakfast
My host, Taal heritage advocate Dindo Montenegro, and I met at Casa Punsalan, a remodelled hotel in a corner of the Plaza. The Montenegro house was directly beside the basilica and although Dindo’s demeanor was low-key, it was quite obvious that he came from one of Taal’s prominent families.
He had prepared a mini-feast of empanadas, tamales, suman and tsokolate, easily trumping any other breakfast that I could have obtained en route to Taal. Dindo showed me the correct way of opening a suman, by tearing through the middle of the pandan leaf as opposed to unravelling it. While I bit into each delicacy, Dindo enumerated their ingredients --- vermicelli, upo (bottle gourd), and shrimp for the empanada; eggs, meat, and sticky rice in the tamales. The cup of the robust kapeng barako surely kept me awake for the remainder of the day.
After that, he launched into an update of restoration and heritage efforts whilst bemoaning the area’s commercialization that ignored preservation principles, to wit: a convenience store was allowed into the area around the plaza, a clear eyesore. On cue, after I finished eating, we headed to the heritage homes.
He had prepared a mini-feast of empanadas, tamales, suman and tsokolate, easily trumping any other breakfast that I could have obtained en route to Taal. Dindo showed me the correct way of opening a suman, by tearing through the middle of the pandan leaf as opposed to unravelling it. While I bit into each delicacy, Dindo enumerated their ingredients --- vermicelli, upo (bottle gourd), and shrimp for the empanada; eggs, meat, and sticky rice in the tamales. The cup of the robust kapeng barako surely kept me awake for the remainder of the day.
After that, he launched into an update of restoration and heritage efforts whilst bemoaning the area’s commercialization that ignored preservation principles, to wit: a convenience store was allowed into the area around the plaza, a clear eyesore. On cue, after I finished eating, we headed to the heritage homes.
Colonial legacies
The Apacible ancestral house is now a museum open to the public. It is an architectural showcase, built as a traditional Spanish bahay-na-bato and later remodelled in the 1930s to reflect Art Deco style, it hosts a collection of furniture (Narra chairs and tables and an antique, circa 1870s piano) and personal effects (an elaborate terno and hand-painted fans) from both eras.
The other house was Agoncillo house, and unlike the Apacible museum, it was never refurbished. It therefore retains much of its original state, from a stone-walled ground floor with a huge solitary door, and a second level partially revealed by sliding windows strewn with capiz.
As Taal and Vigan are the country’s repositories of colonial legacies, inevitable comparisons with Vigan will always exist. The larger Vigan has will always be more prominent, having more – and larger - heritage structures than Taal.
But Taal trumps Vigan with its place in history. Batangas and Taal were at the forefront of the revolution at the turn of the century, and its illustrious families – the Mabinis, the Dioknos, the Laurels, and the Malvars, among others - were freedom fighters instrumental in the battle for independence. The Agoncillos sewed the first Philippine flag that waved in the declaration of Independence in Kawit. The holdout General Miguel Malvar, a true and fine son of Batangas (and my great grand-father), paced the halls of the Apacible house. In its stately living room, he held secret meetings with Leon Apacible, his right hand man and the home’s owner, and with other figures of the revolution. Jose Rizal was a frequent visitor, appearing in prints commemorating events in the Apacible house. So was Mariano Ponce. Great men stood here.
The other house was Agoncillo house, and unlike the Apacible museum, it was never refurbished. It therefore retains much of its original state, from a stone-walled ground floor with a huge solitary door, and a second level partially revealed by sliding windows strewn with capiz.
As Taal and Vigan are the country’s repositories of colonial legacies, inevitable comparisons with Vigan will always exist. The larger Vigan has will always be more prominent, having more – and larger - heritage structures than Taal.
But Taal trumps Vigan with its place in history. Batangas and Taal were at the forefront of the revolution at the turn of the century, and its illustrious families – the Mabinis, the Dioknos, the Laurels, and the Malvars, among others - were freedom fighters instrumental in the battle for independence. The Agoncillos sewed the first Philippine flag that waved in the declaration of Independence in Kawit. The holdout General Miguel Malvar, a true and fine son of Batangas (and my great grand-father), paced the halls of the Apacible house. In its stately living room, he held secret meetings with Leon Apacible, his right hand man and the home’s owner, and with other figures of the revolution. Jose Rizal was a frequent visitor, appearing in prints commemorating events in the Apacible house. So was Mariano Ponce. Great men stood here.
Taal Basilica
The Basilica of San Martin de Tours or more commonly known as Taal Basilica was built to impress. First constructed in 1775 it was rebuilt in 1878 after an earthquake damaged it. Once considered to be the largest church in East Asia, its size was consistent to Taal’s stature as the town enjoyed continually prospered. The massive Baroque façade --a slab of stone divided in to ten equal sections, each section with its own arched openings, separated by columns -- is imposing, but the interior, although grand in size, today lacks ornamentation.A pilgrimage to Our Lady of Caysasay
The statue of the Lady went missing from Taal Church in the early 1600s and later reappeared beside a spring near the banks of the Pansipit river, a Caysasay (kingfisher) supposedly flying about and watching out for Her. Because of numerous accounts of apparitions of the Virgin Mary and of the healing powers of the well, the Sta. Lucia arch was constructed honouring of the Madonna and the celebration of her miracles.
The image of the Lady of Caysasay displayed in the Church of the Madonna of Caysasay is a mere replica. The actual image of the Virgin Mary is kept in the convent behind the church. “Our Lady does not always show her face,” said the nun who brought out the image. I learned that photos taken of the face of Our Lady do not necessarily come out clear and sharp. When it happens, it is a message that one must rethink one’s intention in seeking Her. I took a hundred photos of the diminutive image in full regalia, her golden vestments and crown brilliant even in low light, hoping that the sheer volume of photos could make up for lack of purity of heart.
Back inside the church made of coral stone, I admired the painted murals on the walls and ceiling of the various depictions of the miraculous apparitions. Devotees were milling around or in silent prayer and reflection. Before I finally left, I lit a candle and prayed for at least one decent photo of Our Lady.
The image of the Lady of Caysasay displayed in the Church of the Madonna of Caysasay is a mere replica. The actual image of the Virgin Mary is kept in the convent behind the church. “Our Lady does not always show her face,” said the nun who brought out the image. I learned that photos taken of the face of Our Lady do not necessarily come out clear and sharp. When it happens, it is a message that one must rethink one’s intention in seeking Her. I took a hundred photos of the diminutive image in full regalia, her golden vestments and crown brilliant even in low light, hoping that the sheer volume of photos could make up for lack of purity of heart.
Back inside the church made of coral stone, I admired the painted murals on the walls and ceiling of the various depictions of the miraculous apparitions. Devotees were milling around or in silent prayer and reflection. Before I finally left, I lit a candle and prayed for at least one decent photo of Our Lady.
Seduction of steel
The initial flick of the wrist releases the blade and one of the two sides that make up the handle that also serves as the blade’s housing. A slight loosening of the grip allows the handle in your hand to slide to another position in preparation of the final inward flip of the wrist which brings both handles together in your grasp. The blade is now fully deployed. As a child, I spent countless hours repeating the three steps with a balisong until the entire routine could be executed in one fluid motion. There are simpler ways to open the fan knife (also referred to as beinte-nueve for its length in centimeters fully extended). The charisma of the balisong however is not just its unique construction – and it can get elaborate - but the ability to wield it as well.
A visit to this Batangas province not only provides a glimpse of a preserved historical town, but an insight as well into the psyche and fiery temperament of the typical Batangueno. It is all related: the soil, enriched by volcanic histrionics, gave rise to rich produce; the sugar and coffee enriching the tillers of the land, liberating them and providing them wealth; the illustrados, educated and emancipated, rose to positions of power, eventually challenging colonial rule; giving birth to Nationalists instrumental in the building of a greater nation; how the balisong represents the people’s indomitable will.
Taal encompasses the best that Batangas has to offer and is a significant proxy of its province. Unlike Vigan, it’s only two hours away from Manila.
A visit to this Batangas province not only provides a glimpse of a preserved historical town, but an insight as well into the psyche and fiery temperament of the typical Batangueno. It is all related: the soil, enriched by volcanic histrionics, gave rise to rich produce; the sugar and coffee enriching the tillers of the land, liberating them and providing them wealth; the illustrados, educated and emancipated, rose to positions of power, eventually challenging colonial rule; giving birth to Nationalists instrumental in the building of a greater nation; how the balisong represents the people’s indomitable will.
Taal encompasses the best that Batangas has to offer and is a significant proxy of its province. Unlike Vigan, it’s only two hours away from Manila.
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