There are very few big buildings here other than the churches, which are small compared to the churches of Europe. They have been constantly rebuilt, for this is also a land of earthquakes. The wooden houses are often roofed with tile. For windows they use seashells which permit light to filter in. The houses are really very airy. The lower portions are reserved for animals, carriages, and servants.
Yes, there are streetcars in Manila, but they are drawn by pathetic-looking little ponies. Escolta, the main shopping street, is stocked with all sorts of goods from the Continent. The Chinese shops are on a nearby street called Rosario.
Beyond this street, to the north, is a district called Tondo. The natives live here in tiny bamboo houses with palm-leaf roofs. The land is swampy and the whole place is foul; under the houses feces and rotting garbage collect in stagnant water. This is where the Katipunan—the secret society that ignited the revolution against Spain—was founded.
Intramuros—the old Walled City built in the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries—is surrounded by a moat fed by the Pasig River. It is an ugly and filthy moat spanned by eight bridges. The walls of Intramuros are thick—a squad can march on its ramparts. But the walls were never a defense against our naval artillery. There are many churches here, including the palace of the Archbishop. The streets are cobbled and the houses of stone are really old.
Beyond the Walled City is the Luneta—a promenade which is very popular, specially at dusk. There are a couple of bandstands and regular concerts are held.
In Manila, or anywhere in the Islands, I advise you to boil your drinking water else you will catch cholera or the pox. The latter is a horrible disease which scars the face with many small holes—I have seen this in children and in women who otherwise would be beautiful.
Manila has electricity, but it’s not very reliable, so always be ready with a match and candle.
The newspapers are all in Spanish, so you must learn the language if you want to reach the educated Filipinos. English must be taught here and I am glad that this will be one of your duties.
Transportation to the other islands is by boat and on the major island of Luzon where I am, you can go by train to Dagupan in the north. Otherwise, you go by carriage on poor and narrow roads. I would like to visit the south, where the Muhammadans are, and the mountains in the north inhabited by the head-hunting Igorots. There is gold up there.
You ask what the natives are really like. There are many tribes and dialects. In Manila are the Tagalogs; they are like most of the natives, a small people with black hair. They are very graceful, particularly the women. They have dark eyes and since there has been some intermarriage with the Chinese and Spaniards, there are many half-breeds. They are wily, passionate, irresponsible, and cannot be trusted. Our men say they steal anything they can lay their hands on.
Some have been educated in Europe, like the insurgent leaders we are now chasing. They revere a man named Jose Rizal who was also a novelist, a doctor, a poet, and God knows what else. Naturally, the Spaniards executed him in the Luneta, which I described earlier.
You want to know how the war is going. You have read my dispatch on the battle at Mount Tirad. I did not exaggerate. It was such a heroic stand by a small band against our superior Texas Rangers. We must respect courage wherever we encounter it.
There will be those of us already here who will perhaps want to remain. Opportunities are abundant. Farming, mining, and business are possibilities.
Although you have not asked, you will perhaps want to know about our future with the Philippine people. This expensive little war is almost over. Except for some guerrilla activity in the Visayan Islands and in Sontheim Luzon, I am sure that we will secure the territory very soon. General Aguinaldo’s days are numbered; sooner or later, General Funston will get him.
And after that, we will have to stay and build.
I agree with you that we have a God-given responsibility to the world. We have worked very hard to make a great and prosperous nation and we must extend our influence beyond the two oceans. Spain is corrupt and it is right that we defeated her and took over these poor islands which have long been mired in ignorance and poverty. We will teach the Philippine people the values of our institutions, prepare them for self-government, impart to them the virtues of self-reliance and freedom. Above all, we must teach them dignity, show to them those shining pillars of democracy we have built for ourselves. These are righteous causes for which American blood has been spilled.
You will, therefore, have a splendid opportunity to do what has been ordained by destiny for us. Our future in this part of the world will be enhanced by what we will do in these Islands.
I had not meant to denigrate the natives in describing them earlier in the words of our men. I have written glowingly of their heroism at Mount Tirad; I think I should also mention here their capacity for learning, or for mimicry, if we want to condescend.
I was very surprised to find in one of the dead insurgents—he was barefoot like the rest and not in uniform, so many of the guerrillas are like this—a journal which, at first, I thought were instructions entrusted to a courier. The notations were in Spanish and Latin; my knowledge of Spanish, as you know, is excellent and my Latin, though rusty, is still good. The dead man—his name was Eustaquio Samson—had a pencil on his person; it was he who wrote in that diary as he journeyed from a place called Cabugawan to this mountain pass. He writes in awe of Mabini, the insurgent leader who was captured recently. I have a good mind to see him and tell him about Samson and, perhaps, visit as well the Samson family in Rosales. So hearken now to the last notation this barefoot soldier made about his enemy—us:
“Conquest by force is not sanctioned by God. The Americans have no right to be here. We will defeat them in the end because we believe this land they usurp is ours; God created it for us. The whole history of mankind has shown how faith endures while steel rusts.”
Think it over.
Yours,
Tom
GLOSSARY
anahau: Short palm tree, no taller than a man. Its leaves are made into fans, rain capes, and the like.
Apo: Respectful form of address.
Apo Init: The sun.
azotea: Area attached to the rear of large homes, lacking a roof (Sp.).
bakas: Ilokano ritual to mark the end of mourning, when Ilokanos stop wearing black.
banaba: A tree with medicinal leaves and purple flowers.
bangcag: A plot of land not suitable for rice. It is planted with vegetables, root crops, and/or sugarcane.
basi: Sugarcane wine.
batalan: Same as azotea, but on farmhouses, where water jars and some potted plants are placed.
benting: A 25-centavo coin (no longer used).
bodega: Store or house (Sp.).
calesa: Buggy (Sp.).
carabao: Water buffalo. The animal does not perspire, which is why it needs to soak in water or mud every day to cool off.
cartilla (literally “primer”): The alphabet (Sp.).
carzoncillo: Shorts for men, tied with a string around the waist, usually made of cotton, often knee-length.
catón: Primer; a reader for children (Sp.); a teacher.
catuday: Tree with white or pink flowers that can be eaten.
cédula: Residence certificate (Sp.).
culibambang: Tree with leaves like green butterflies, hence its name. It grows wild, usually on hillsides.
dalipawen: A very tall tree, like a palm, that draws fireflies.
dal-lot: Traditional Ilokano poetry, usually chanted.
galletas: Biscuits (Sp.).
garita: Measure of grain; term no longer used, as grain is measured in kilos.
gobernadorcillo: Town mayor.
herbolario: Native healer, who usually uses herbs.
ilustrados: The first Filipinos, usually of means, who studied in Europe (beginning in the 1880s) in order to become “enlightened”; literally, “learned” or “well-informed” (Sp.).
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br /> inang: Ilokano equivalent of “mama.”
ipil: Tree usually used for firewood.
kumbento: Part of the sacristy where the priest lives.
kusing: Smallest monetary unit, even less than a penny (no longer used).
lomboy: Edible fruit, like purple grapes, but with a big seed.
madre de cacao: A shrub planted as fencing, with beautiful cherrylike flowers in dry season.
mal vivir: Spanish name for Filipinos who fled from Spanish tyranny.
Manong: Affectionate, respectful form of address for older brother or man. Ilokanos do not call older relatives by their given names alone.
marunggay: Its leaves and young fruit are cooked as vegetables.
médico titulado: Officially licensed doctor (Sp.).
micol: Five-centavo coin (no longer used).
municipio: Town hall (Sp.).
oración: Prayer, usually in Latin (Sp.).
pañuelo: A scarf worn by women, usually with the national dress (Sp.).
parunapin: Hardwood tree.
pasyon: The Holy Week story of the crucifixion, usually sung in verse form.
patintero: A game usually played in the moonlight.
pomelo: Tropical orange, often as big as a soccer ball.
principalia: The provincial elite, usually landlords (Sp.).
rayadillo: Seersucker design of the revolutionary army; tiny blue lines on white.
remontados: Spanish name for Filipinos who fled from Spanish tyranny.
sagat: Hardwood tree. Sagat is the hardest Philippine wood, used for house posts or railroad ties.
sala: The living room in large houses (Sp.).
salapi: Fifty centavos; also denotes money, lucre.
saluyot: A wild-growing shrub with leaves that are the best-known Ilokano vegetable, slippery like okra.
sineguelas: Tree bearing a green fruit no larger than a Ping-Pong ball.
sipi: A small room attached to the farmer’s house, where pillows and the rice bin are stored.
sitio: A group of houses smaller than a village.
siyam-siyam (literally “nine-nine”): Nine days of constant rain.
sopa boba (literally “fool’s soup”): Small consolation (Sp.)
suman: Gelatinous rice cooked in coconut milk, usually wrapped in banana leaves or young palm leaves.
Tatang: Ilokano term for father or affectionate address for an older male.
tinto dulce: Sweet wine (Sp.).
tulisanes: Thieves.
For Philip, Frederick,
Evelina, and Stephen Cichy
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
I am grateful to the Rockefeller Foundation for its fellowship, which allowed me to write this novel in Bellagio, Italy.
I’d also like to thank R. P. Garcia Publishing Company, Quezon City, Philippines, where the first chapter of this book originally appeared as “The Cripples” in the collection The God Stealer.
ALSO BY F. SIONIL JOSÉ
Short Stories
The God Stealer and Other Stories
Waywaya: Eleven Filipino Short Stories
Platinum: Ten Filipino Stories
Olvidon and Other Short Stories
Novellas
Three Filipino Women
Novels
The Rosales Saga
The Pretenders
Tree
My Brother, My Executioner
Mass
Dusk (Po-on)
Ermita
Gagamba
Viajero
Sins
Verse
Questions
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
With the publication of Three Filipino Women by Random House in 1992, the work of F. SIONIL JOSÉ began appearing in the United States. He is one of the major literary voices of Asia and the Pacific, but (after encouragement by Malcolm Cowley and others) his novels and stories are only now gradually being published in the country that figures in much of his work as both a shadow and yet a very real presence.
José (widely known as “Frankie”) runs a leading bookshop in Manila, was the founding president of the Philippines PEN Center, publishes the journal Solidarity, and is best known for the five novels comprising the highly regarded Rosales Saga (Dusk [Po-on]; Tree; My Brother, My Executioner; The Pretenders; and Mass). He is widely published around the world and travels steadily.
Dusk: A Novel (Modern Library Paperbacks) Page 30