(#4) Passing Through the Graves of San Joaquin Cemetery

By Cento Ron

The previous night, these Restless Soles were anxious to make the most of our Panay trip, and reach as many remarkable places as possible. We agreed to head south of the island and kept ourselves open for pleasant surprises along the way.

Before the streaks of dawn, we were already hitting the road to southwest of Iloilo City on our way to Antique.

 Just as the sun was rising at the horizon, we were standing by the roadside facing the San Joaquin Cemetery, with soft light illuminating the chapel. This was supposed to be a mere short stopover, a kidney-break at that, considering that my two travel buddies had been here the other afternoon. The majestic structure simply beholden us and made us spend more time than expected marveling at its classic grandeur.

The San Joaquin Cemetery Chapel sits a little elevated from the national road, following its terrain through a flight of 20 steps from the ground level by the gate. Its construction which dates back to 1892 is ascribed to Fray Mariano Vamba, the last Augustinian Parish Priest of the town.

Perhaps, the most photographed angle of this majestic cultural treasure is by the roadside capturing and using its lone gate as a frame to the Baroque-inspired architecture.

We took several pictures of the chapel, all from different perspectives. Despite the varied viewpoints, a common sight loomed at our horizon, that is, that this cemetery must have been deliberately built along the national road as a visual reminder to all passersby that no matter where everyone is heading towards, we are all merely passing by. And, eventually, we shall be heading towards a single destination.

What a way to start our day! We tried to take a piece of memory through our photography. Subtly, we were also confronted by our mortality. We knew that stacking meaningful memories shall usher us through in this passing journey.

(#3) Cabatuan Graves Encounter

By Cento Ron


Is there any better way to be confronted with your mortality than being where the once or, otherwise, forever brave mortals lay?

One idle afternoon, these Restless Soles, together with friends from way, way back, were dragged to one of the structurally grandest cemeteries we’ve visited in Iloilo -- the Cabatuan Catholic Cemetery.

As we alighted from our borrowed car, silence greeted us save for some uneven rhythm orchestrated from a distance by two grave diggers with a pair of shovels hitting pebbles, gravels and rock bottoms. The humid afternoon breeze provided little soothing comfort. The three conspicuously arched gates stole our attention leading our gaze towards the massive centerpiece, standing wide and tall over other visible structures, the cemetery chapel.

The undeniably Spanish structure accentuates Roman and Byzantine influences. The marker indicates that this was built in February 4, 1894 by Fr. Juan Porras. Order pervades the entire vicinity through a perfect square enclosed by well-crafted steel railings through solid limestone base, with the chapel as the anchor of all other structures.

Due to harsh afternoon sunlight, we borrowed shade from several mid-rise condo-type tombs while waiting for our cameras to snap what beyond our eyes can capture. We had not seen each other for more than 8 months now, and as we exchanged captured landscapes through our view finders, we also exchanged stories -- stories that date back to almost three decades ago, and counting.

While stories were shared, we waited for clouds to form at the horizon. We waited… and waited. Moments passed, but the clouds seemed to elude us. There were too few of them. After several camera clicks and stories shared, we left the place.

My thoughts wandered. I wondered what possible common story do the disparate graves, grave-owners, and grave-dwellers share?

We took shelter at the Lizares Mansion, now Angelicum School, in Tabuc Suba, Jaro, Iloilo City, which became our home for a couple of days. Although not strangers to the Mansion having been there for several occasions, we still found ourselves charmed by it. ( http://restless-soles.blogspot.com/2015/02/haunted-as-it-may-have-seemed-to-be-in.html )

(#1) Charmed by Lizares Mansion

(By Tony Mina)

Haunted as it may have seemed to be in the past decades, eerie stories about the Lizares Mansion in Tabuc Suba, Jaro, Iloilo City could be just shoved aside as urban legends or mere folktales that may have spread by word of mouth  around the city. 

Standing firmly in the course of history, the mansion exudes magnitude and firmness, unwilling to let go of the glorious past; standing regally, the mansion is a telltale that Jaro was once a bastion of the wealthy landlords in Panay Island.
The Lizares Mansion was designed by a foremost architect of that time by the name of Architect Andres Pardo de Tavera Luna de San Pedro, the son of Juan Luna.  A  fusion of American and Spanish architecture, it still is one of the most elegant structures in Iloilo City.
Built in 1935 and finished in 1937 by Don Emiliano Lizares for his wife Conchita Gamboa and their two sons and three daughters, the mansion has two main floors, three separate labyrinth-like basements (now buried under hardened mud after a series of floods that hit the area) and an attic.
It has a winding wooden staircase, the steps of which are made from hardwood and with intricately designed railings of solid irons. It has large bedrooms and was said to have 59 doors which indicate the intricacy of its layout.
When World War II broke out, the family left for a safe hiding place in Pototan, Iloilo. The mansion was then used as headquarters of the Japanese army. 
It was believed that the basement was turned into a dumping ground for tortured Filipinos.
The family reclaimed the mansion right after the Liberation of Panay; but life was never the same again. In 1950, Don Emiliano Lizares died and his widow left for Manila, leasing the mansion to a businessman who turned it into a casino. The city mayor later ordered that the casino be closed, claiming that it corrupted the Ilonggos. After that, the mansion was left to the hands of a caretaker named Tio Doroy Finolan who, with his wife, kept intact whatever was left by the Japanese occupation and the eventual attack by the Ilonggo guerillas.
In 1962 the Lizares Mansion was sold to the Dominicans, and subsequently in 1963, was converted into a House of Formation for young Dominicans in the Philippines.

It must have been during those Sunday masses held in the chapel, that  the tales of  Mang Macio (not his real name) arose to give proofs to the eerie stories of the place. He alleged to be one of the Ilonggo guerrillas who pillaged  the Japanese fortifications of the mansion during the Liberation of Panay from the Japanese Imperial Armies.  His detailed stories of Japanese soldiers caught and brutally hanged from the railings of the ballroom (now converted into a chapel) were so alive in his memories that he would attend every Sunday mass but chose to stay outside the chapel.
He would add, that not wanting to die in the hands of the guerrillas, the Japanese garrison opted to hide in the basement under the staircase awaiting formal surrender.  Irate and vengeful, the Ilonggo guerillas poured drums of gasoline into the Japanese hiding place, and set them ablaze.
Mang Macio's story may have just been a baseless heroism and valor to brag to the younger generation until recently when a resident priest of the mansion, Fr. Larry de Dios, OP, showed this writer some charred chunks under those molded slabs at the base of the staircase.

(Most rooms have at least four doors that lead to either baths or  connected to another smaller room)

(The kind of hinge that was prevalent in most architectures in 1930's)

(Old stainless faucet with octagonal base)

(Don Lizares had penchants on auspicious number 8s of Chinese Astrology)

In 1978, the Lizares Mansion compound became the home of Angelicum School Iloilo.

A loosened hardwood moulding at staircase's base revealed some proofs of charred planks that bespeak of the tortured and burnt Japanese invaders who occupied the mansion during the second world war.

  

The Lizares Mansion was indeed a witness of a tumultuously depressing period.  It was barely inhabited by the real owners before it could be squandered to the filthy hands of the Japanese, thereby smearing its alluring stance with bad vibes and ill repute.

But time heals all wounds. Its regal beauty protected itself from being known as just a haunted dwelling.  The scars of the past  were now redeemed. And the mansion claimed another level of glory.