Buyog

Let me tell you 'bout the bees and the beach. At the beach the other day, I watched these bees engage in a torrid and passionate encounter. I spared no time in capturing the moment on cam. Smack of voyeurism! Well, it isn't unusual to see lovey-dovey twosomes cuddle each other under shades of verdant trees or in secluded spots of the beach. The beach is by far a favorite tryst for romantic couples. But this is the first time I caught sight of bees doing their thing at the beach. Makes me wonder, has the beach anything to do with it? Does the beach have the same romantic effect on man, animal or insect?

I have no answers but this much I can say - how's that for saying here's my word of advice: Next time you feel like doing it at the beach be careful when laying down on those grassy mounts or be ready to be stung by busy bees. There's the buzz!

Mañanita

One of the few Hispanic traditions that had managed to survive to this day in Zamboanga City is the practice of singing salutatory songs to someone celebrating his birthday before he rises early in the morning. I say this because, though few and far between, I still get to enjoy hearing these enthralling morning renditions in my barrio.

I owe it to a mawkish coterie of barrio women and a few pious men, almost certainly belonging to some parish league, for keeping the tradition alive. They gather together to rehearse a well-kept selection of morning songs in some neighbor’s house where the younger of kin come to learn and join in the singing and hopefully will keep the tradition going.

Their trained voices will be heard with the strum of the guitar in the wee hours of the morning as they sneak up at the celebrant’s doorsteps to rouse him melodiously from his sleep. The song that goes … how beautiful is the morning, is often sung first, followed by a motley collection of birthday songs and some of the celebrant’s favorites as well. It is customary for the celebrant to offer his well-wishers something to eat and drink after the singing like native delicacies served with tea, coffee or ginger ale.

Unlike a serenade sung in the evening for a beloved, it is considered folk song sung before sunrise on a person’s birthday. It is popularly thought to be of Mexican tradition. The practice however came to be associated with the Roman Catholic Church Cursillo Movement that originated from Spain in the 1940’s. Its repertoire took on many localized versions with its spread in the Philippines.   

Chavacano songs have evolved and grown through the years from the No Te Vayas and Zamboanga Hermosa of long time ago, the popular ditties of Titang Jaldon, the unforgettable tunes of the Major Chords, the romantic ballads of Marc Velasco, to the recent explosion of rap and pop music produced by Chavacano bands. But the local musical landscape with its kaleidoscope of sounds can further take on new patterns by drawing on our traditional songs and music of an upbeat Mexican format.

Our posture as Latin City of Asia provides yet another outlet for such songs. I’m referring to “Combanchero” type of music with its lively and danceable rhythmic sounds. Who can deny our musical affinity with such Mexican songs as El Racho Grande, Cielito Lindo, La Cucaracha or La Bamba? Do we not feel they are as much our own? Well, Chicanos and Chavacanos do share a lot in common.

Catumbal

One of the little, known pleasures of our local dining experience comes from adding chili pepper to our dishes. Its pure pungent flavor enhances the taste of every dish it touches.

Every food loving Zamboangueño would admit to a certain fondness for chili pepper. We keep a handful of it to go with our favorite gata nangka (young jackfruit cooked in coconut milk), sinigang (fish stew), kilawin (marinated raw fish) or plain sawsawan (vinegar sauce) for the asao pescao (broiled fish) and latu (seaweed salad).

Satti, a concoction of steamy hot chili sauce poured on pasty rice cooked wrapped in coconut leaves and eaten with bits of grilled beef or chicken on sticks, is the de facto culinary delicacy of Zamboanga, regardless of ethnic or social background.

Chili pepper is commonly used in Filipino cooking. Siling Labuyo, the small but devilishly hot pod, is the pepper variety common in the country. Besides being a popular food condiment, chili pepper leaves are also used as vegetable especially in our native chicken soup tinola. Certain regions of the country like Bicol in the North and most regions of Mindanao in the South are known to be liberal users of chili pepper in their dishes.

Chile pepper has also defined the national cuisine of many of our epicurean Asian neighbors: Malaysia, Indonesia, India, Thailand and the list goes on. But once upon a time, oriental dishes were ugh – maybe not quite bland but very likely not as hot.

While Asia is the recognized hotbed of spices, chili pepper originated from the Americas. It is unrelated to black pepper (we call pimienta) and just so named pepper by colonizers who found its taste similar to its European counterpart. Yes, we have European explorers in the 1500’s to thank for launching expeditions in search of spices. In those days spices were as coveted goods as gold and silver. It was at the height of the spice trade when chili pepper was introduced by the Spanish from Mexico to the Philippines from whence it rapidly spread into other parts of Asia.

Chili pepper is a hardy plant and thrives untended. If you ever wondered why chili pepper plants just grow around without you cultivating them, well we have the birds to thank. Chili peppers reproduce by pollination and do it best when birds eat their seeds. Birds do not have the receptors to feel the heat of chili peppers and their digestive systems do not harm the chili seeds. They can consume mega-doses and distribute the seeds in the process.

I never grew chili peppers all my life but along with the birds, enjoyed picking the fruits year-round from my backyard. But unlike the birds, mammal-me can’t help propagate the seeds as through bird droppings.

There is a little known village in the outskirts of Zamboanga that goes by the name “Sitio Catumbal”. I wonder if indeed there’s an abundance of chili pepper in the place. Most towns are named by what can be found in profusion from there. Or perhaps it may be because the people in the place are just predisposed to eating a lot of chili peppers. On a sly thought, could it be, it may be, well, maybe - a vague allusion to the seductiveness of the locals?

Having pricked my own curiosity, I have a sudden bird’s instinct to swoop down on this village in search of chili peppers and while there, forage for what else that’s hot. But for now I’m not about to engage in more chili pepper analytics, lunch is waiting with a bunch of freshly picked chilies on the table, I’m simply going to give in to its pure palate pleasures.

Gato

Beach cats is what I call them. My apologies, beach cat racers and hobie cat enthusiasts if by this title your search led you to this site - 'cause I'm not talking about sailing, racing or recreation. I'm talking about real cats of the fur and purr variety that seem to be populating the beaches of this country. There happens to be a growing number of cats I see roaming the beaches. I may not know if they are abandoned, stray or simply out on a walk, but I'm pretty sure there isn't any population control program for their kind. Not where the mass of human beings themselves are wanting in such service.

I'm just a bit uneasy at the thought that a female cat can produce 30 kittens in a year. And how many kittens can a tomcat sire wandering about and mating with any pussycat, and as many. Think how that number of cats can procreate and multiply. If left unabated, you can imagine how they can continue to reproduce themselves in exponential fashion.

As it is, cat conditions are already harsh if unsheltered and free-roaming. Most of them have made the beaches their home and go about freely scavenging for leftovers from trash and picnic tables. More so if with their growing numbers, they have to fight ferociously in their forage of our beaches. Scrawny and sick cats will be unbecoming of our vaunted beaches.

There is a known humane and effective way to keep the stray cat population in check and it is to spay or castrate rather than to catch and kill. But this method seems to be a first world thing for now and I seriously doubt if there is any such program hereabout. It is not a bad idea though to adopt if we want our beaches to remain a healthy place where beachgoers and beach cats can co-exist.

Edificio

Among the less celebrated landmarks of Zamboanga is this piece of colonial architecture tucked on the corner of Ma. Clara St. and N.S. Valderossa St. in front of the City Hall. It’s a combination concrete and wood-frame building circa 1928, with a turret, ironwork lattice windows and an unusual cone-shaped roof. While beautiful in design, it looks like it has seen better days and badly in need of upkeep.

While hardly being promoted as a tourist attraction or catching the remotest interest of many local residents, it seems to have taken the fancy of domestic and foreign tourists to the city. I’ve seen its photos land in blogs and magazines featuring Zamboanga, and I surmise in many a traveler’s personal scrapbook and album too.

For years, it housed a popular local furniture store. That’s as far as I can remember. While today, an inconspicuous travel ticketing booth occupies its once massive doorway. Its history is unknown to me but I’d love to hear how and why it was built and who lived there in times gone by. In a couple of decades, this quaint old dame that silently stood watch over the city for ages will turn a century old.

Undeniably it is old and unique, but there is always a tinge of mystery clutching beneath the charming veneer of old buildings like this that so attracts the time traveler in a strange and interesting way. Travelers are looking for stories in the fabric of time as much as they are exploring for sites. It is sites like this that enhance the character of a destination.

This building is one of the few surviving old edifices in the town proper. I hope it will not suffer the same fate of so many over the years that have gone to rubble to give way to new or modern ones. Can’t we not just build new structures outside the old city proper?  

Property owners and the populace should recognize the historical value of old buildings. Without them people will tend to forget the past. They are non-renewable cultural resources and with every unthinking demolition, a living part of history is destroyed. 

Rather than resort to demolition, these buildings should be protected, restored, developed and maintained. Rather than be viewed as worthless derelicts, they should be seen as precious assets of special value to experience and understand, and from which great cultural and economic benefits can be derived. Let us reclaim history and reverse this trend of neglect. Let us save the last of our heritage buildings. 

Mecanico

This little encounter yesterday gave me a good deal to ponder about today. Today, being Fathers Day.

I was out yesterday to purchase a few things from a computer shop and was driving through the exit of a paid parking lot when my car conked out the minute I reached the guard post. I was helpless to put the car to first gear and far more helpless to assuage irate motorists from behind. Finally with the help of the guard who redirected exiting traffic to the entrance, my car was pushed off the driveway back to the parking lot.

Failing to reach my regular mechanic on the cell phone, I tried looking around the adjoining road for a car mechanic. This road is lined with motorcycle, bicycle and related supplies and spare parts stores. Right along the sidewalks you’d find makeshift repair shops for these two-wheeled conveyances. So obviously there wasn’t any shortage for their sort of mechanics but finding a car mechanic thereabouts was providential.  

After asking around, one and only one name surfaced “Boy Ilong,” but I was cheerlessly warned I would be lucky if he’s not off to some repair engagement somewhere. As it turned out, luck was on my side as I came across him seated on a long wooden bench talking with some men in a run-down tricycle shop at the far end of the road. Case heard, he grabbed his tool bag and together we walked back to my car.

Sixty, shabby, sooty-faced with scruffy silvering hair, a burly physique, a firm stride and a bulbous nose which he said, earned him the alias “Boy Ilong.” It was people’s way of identifying him from two more mechanics he used to work with, sporting the “Boy” name.

I was captivated by how he got my car fixed in no time, knowing exactly where and what’s the cause of the problem and working on it with the dexterity of a master. You’d know it’s his thing because he does it excellently. “Comes with forty years of experience,” he said self-effacingly. “I’m nowhere near retirement yet but maybe I will think about it at sixty-five.” Even as he declared it, I could see that he will keep on doing his thing as if it will never end.     

We got a bit chummy and our conversation was carried over a serving of pansit guisado, loaf bread and soft drinks in a nearby restaurant. I wondered whether he has gotten to pass on his expertise to anyone in his family. Well, he’s got a son he tagged along as a child who picked the tricks of the trade.

Then suddenly he told me something that made me think more highly of the person in front of me. He said he was hoping his son would take after him and his beloved profession but it was not for him to choose. He told me that from his honest-to-goodness job as a mechanic, he was able to send his son through college, graduating with a degree in Criminology. His son did not turn out to be a policeman either. According to him, his son is now a rising basketball coach of high school and college level students in one of the universities in town. He spoke with profuse fatherly love and pride for his son’s accomplishment.

Somehow I realized here was a man who knew that his being a mechanic was secondary to his being a father. He did not push upon his son the tools of his trade but instead had given him the tools to succeed and be happy in life. He did not deprive his son the right to decide for himself, knowing it was his son who was going to live with that decision. He gave his son the freedom to dream his dream. He allowed him to find his thing. 

Madrugada

My memory of early waking hours in my barrio is one of intermingling sounds and singsong voices filling the cool morning air. I hanker for such mornings when I awake and linger on in bed with eyes shut, ears opening to hear, and mind slowly becoming aware of the sheer variety of sounds occurring around me all at once or at random intervals.

First on my list are sounds caused by transports. We live in a barrio to the west coast of town and our house lies some fifty meters to the highway from where I can hear traffic sounds at the break of dawn. I imagine jeepneys with their load of vendors and cargoes of fresh farm produce on their way to the town’s public market. Further across the highway is the sea from where echoes the horn blasts of approaching ships as they make their way to the pier in the wee hours of the morning. And at daybreak comes the whirring sound of engines overhead as two or three airplanes arrive in succession, flying just high above the rooftops, ready for touchdown on the airport next to our barrio. Although this type of ambient sounds, never cause me enough disturbance, they come closest to my idea of noise.

Next are sounds that originate from our barrio’s religious milieu. Our barrio is home to peoples of different faiths and persuasions notably Muslims, Catholics and Protestants. It is not unusual to be awakened from your slumber by the early morning worship practices of these groups. These sounds are more welcomed to usher in the day.

Our house is just a stone’s throw away from a mosque so the Muslim’s dawn prayer, recited over a sound system, is familiar enough sound for me to recognize even when my mind is still fuzzy. Our house is also within sound of the Catholic Chapel bells. Sounds from their spiritual rituals are infrequently heard especially at dawn because there’s no resident vicar. On special occasions though, they are the most resonant. On the day of the barrio fiesta, I wake up with a jolt to hear the sound of trumpets blowing, cymbals clashing, snare drums rolling and bass booming as a phalanx of musicians march around the village at the crack of dawn. On certain occasions I am roused from my sleep by religious melodies from a procession or rosary prayed from speakers atop a jeep doing the rounds of the village. The Protestant Chapel is farther off from our house so only the muffled tone of their morning worship service with its characteristic organ playing and hymn singing is heard.   

Last in my category are other sounds occurring during waking hours. There is a military camp on the hilly side of our barrio opposite the waterfront so it is not unusual to hear the regimental bugle call at sunrise. I think it is pretty neat. Sometimes I am stirred from my sleep by dog barks but that is not a dawn phenomenon, they occur when incited by what dogs hear or see. However, rooster crows are. In a country where cockfighting is a major sport, most households have gamecocks under their care. This is true in my barrio and I wake up every morning to the roosters crowing at dawn. The twitters of yellow-breasted hummingbirds in the garden lend a glorious accompaniment to the chorus. I like the sounds of bird chirps and rooster crows but dog barks are annoying. Up with the lark or up with the bark, I love listening to the sounds of dawn.

Understanding Personal Finance

The Ateneo de Zamboanga University (AdZU) in partnership with The Phoinix Consulting Corporation is inviting everyone to attend a half-day training on Understanding Personal Finance.

The seminar will be on Friday, June 1, 2012 1:30-5:00 PM for company sponsored attendees and on Saturday, June 2, 2012 1:30-5:00 PM for individuals at the Carlos Dominguez Conference Hall, AdZU.

Registration fee is P500 per person and the proceeds is for the Sacred Heart Chapel Renovation. For more details please contact Jerrick Go at 0917-3018006.

Bougainvillea

There is no other flower so closely related to Zamboanga than the ubiquitous bougainvillea. My contention is this – it is the bougainvillea that gave Zamboanga its famed stature as the “City of Flowers,” justified or not. For sure, there are many other cities in the country that can claim that title. Who can deny Baguio’s flower prominence long before it decided to showcase it in floral float parades during its annual flower festival? Who can rival Davao’s flower power when it comes to orchids? If quality and variety are to be the standards, where will Zamboanga land? Neither for flower quality or variety but for the lovely, lowly bougainvillea of Zamboanga, that many are willing to part with the title “City of Flowers.”

As far back as I can recall, bougainvillea have adorned the homes and gardens of the Zamboanguenos. They can be seen along highways and by-ways of the city and in its public parks and gardens. And what a spectacular sight they make in their myriad of colors and profusion of blooms. So fabulous in display that it is hard to remove from one’s mind the image of a flower-laden city.

I cannot forget how as a boy living in the barrio, I watched foreign tourists stop their cars, get off and take photos of a nipa-hut, just along the road, that was almost covered with bougainvillea. Sometimes, they turn to face the other side of the road, aim and zoom their lenses to the corridor of our two-storey wooden house, standing alone and far off the road, but also bedecked with vibrant potted bougainvillea.

The woman of the hut, I remember, didn’t have elaborate garden rituals but to sweep her yard briskly with an escoba tingting (a broom of bundled coconut sticks) until  the bare ground turns like hardened concrete and to splash her plants with a pail of water. Yet her garden is incomparable and picture-postcard in beauty.

Sadly, that little hut with bougainvillea bursting in the garden is already a thing of the past, pushed behind commercial stalls that now line the side of the road. Sceneries like this are fast becoming a rarity. How much less lively and colorful mi pueblo can be without them? Let’s bring back the bougainvillea!

Bougainvillea, they say is of Brazilian origin. (Another latin connection?) They love the sun and like warm tropical climate that’s why they grow well here. These flowering vines are among the most popular and most beautiful tropical plants. They are hardy, vigorous, evergreen, woody with spines. They grow readily from cuttings and grow best under stress. To a great extend, they are pretty much like the Zamboangueno in character. So, hola bougainvillea, claim your rightful place!

Padre Nuestro

I don’t remember ever trying to put to memory “Padre Nuestro” - the Spanish “Our Father” or oftentimes called the ”Lord’s Prayer.” But ask me to recite it and it would be like second nature to me. Not that I have any special language ability. I can’t even repeat from memory any other prose in Spanish save perhaps “Ave Maria” and a spluttering of Rizal’s “Mi Ultimo Adios,” which I spent agonizing days memorizing to make it through mandatory Spanish class in college. Spanish, these days though, is no longer compulsory education.

Now, where does my uncanny ability come from? I guess it comes from having heard the prayer oft repeatedly in childhood from saying grace, the Angelus, the rosary, novenas, and from processions, Holy Week cantatas, and almost every form of religious worship including funeral wakes.

Those were the days when prayers were said in Spanish. Those were the days when mi Abuela (my grandma) was still around. With her demise however, I noticed Spanish prayers were being said less and less, like she must have taken them with her to the grave. English prayers became the norm.

Not too long ago, I heard about the translation and publication of the Bible in Chavacano and maybe together with that, some of the well known prayers too. So much so that the “Padre Nuestro,” once akin to Chavacano would become passe.

Aside from Zamboanga, other Chavacano speaking towns in the country, I learned, have their own version of the “Padre Nuestro.” I just don’t know how and when they sprung into usage. Here are the translations:

Zamboangueño

Tata de amon talli na cielo, bendito el de Uste nombre. Manda vene con el de Uste reino; hace el de Uste voluntad aqui na tierra, igual como alli na cielo. Dale kanamon el pan para cada dia. Perdona el de amon maga culpa, como ta perdona kame con aquellos quien tiene culpa kanamon. No deja que hay cae kame na tentacion y libra kanamon na mal.

Caviteño

Niso Tata Qui tu na cielo, quida santificao Tu nombre. Manda vini con niso Tu reino; sigui el qui quiere Tu aqui na tierra, igual como na cielo. Dali con niso ahora, niso comida para todo el dia. Perdona el mga culpa di niso, si que laya ta perdona niso con aquel mga qui tiene culpa con niso. No dija qui cai niso na tentacion, pero salva con niso na malo.

Ternateño

Padri di mijotro ta alli na cielo, quida alabao Bo nombre. Lleva con mijotro Bo trono; vini con mijotro Bo reino; sigui cosa qui Bo manda aqui na tiehra parejo alli na cielo. Dali con mijotro esti dia el cumida di mijotro para cada dia. Perdona quel mga culpa ya haci mijotro con Bo, como ta perdona mijotro quel mga culpa ya haci el mga otro genti con mijotro. No dija qui cai mijotro na tintacion, sino haci libra con mijotro na malo.

There you go folks, which sounds more Spanish? Be the judge!

Spanish

Padre nuestro, que estas en el cielo, sanctificado sea tu nombre; venga a nosotros tu reino; hagase tu voluntad en la tierra como en el cielo. Danos hoy nuestro pan de cada dia; perdona nuestras ofensas, como tambien nosotros perdonamos a los que nos ofenden; no nos dejes caer en la tentacion, y libranos del mal. Amen.

Bienvenidos

By way of an invitation, here is a derivative version of a Department of Tourism flyer that encapsulates the essence of Zamboanga:

Welcome to Zamboanga Hermosa!
. . . the gateway to Muslimland, Southeast Asia, Southwest Pacific, and the Fareast;
. . . where the native inhabitants, bear Chinese-Malayan features but answer to American-Spanish names;
. . . where the people are traditionally warm, hospitable, and friendly, living in peace and at peace with one another notwithstanding differences in race, creed or political beliefs;
. . . where sun-drenched white and pink, tan and gray, pebbly and sandy beaches and native fishing villages dot the coastline;
. . . where the sun rises in splendor early at dawn and slowly recedes at evening fall like a ball of fire in waves of gold and crimson and purple, behind billows of gray and foamy white clouds;
. . . premier city of flowers, fruits, fish, femmes and of faith.

Celso unveils P1.8M MP center in Boalan

Mayor Celso Lobregat and Vice Mayor Cesar Iturralde spearhead the ribbon-cutting ceremony during the inauguration of the P1.8 million rehabilitated Boalan multi-purpose center, the first floor of which will house the Center for the Elderly. JOEY BAUTISTA

Mayor Celso Lobregat together with Vice Mayor Cesar Iturralde and some city councilors inaugurated yesterday the newly rehabilitated multi-purpose center amounting to P1,839,980.00 in Boalan, east of this city.

Lobregat said the two-storey multi-purpose center will be used by the senior citizens for socialization and other activities at the ground, while the second floor will be used by youth-related activities.  

The multi-purpose center was part of the nine various infrastructure projects costing P6.9 million that the city government had implemented in Boalan in 2011. Other projects included irrigation structures, drainage systems, footbridges and multi-purpose pavements.

For this year, the barangay’s basketball court in the amount of P397,196.45 is under construction, construction of a drainage system worth P800,000 and slope protection amounting to P1 million are scheduled for implementation. Two other projects, repair of school building and road concreting, costing P2.7 million have been submitted to the Bids and Awards Committee (BAC).

Records show that the city government under Lobregat’s administration had already implemented and completed P28.5 million worth of various infrastructure projects in Boalan since 2007, broken down as follow: P1.6 million in 2007; P843,386.03 in 2008; P8.9 million in 2009; P5.5 million in 2010; and P6.9 in 2011.

                                

Present during the inauguration were Councilors Lilia Nuño, Nonong Guingona, Percival Ramos, Mike Alavar and Eddie Saavedra together with City Engineer Luis Vicente Despalo, City Social Welfare and Development Officer Francisco Barredo and Lobregat’s brother, Jomar.-(Vic Larato)

Robredo: Financial management is call of LGU leadership

DILG Secretary Jessie Robredo answers questions fielded by members of the Zamboanga media during a press conference at a local hotel in Gov. Camins Monday afternoon. JOEY BAUTISTA

Local Government Secretary Jessie Robredo in a press conference Monday said managing finances of local government units is the call of the LGU leadership and hinted that it is his personal view that buffer funds should be kept in the bank for unforeseen events.

Secretary Robredo emphasized this in answer to a question concerning the city government’s deposits in the bank, which is a subject of criticism from administration critics.

“Palagay ko po ang finances ng isang LGU must be determined and dictated by the LGU leadership”, the secretary said stressing “kung ano yong pananaw ng pamunuan sa bagay na ito, nasa kanya na yon”.

Secretary cited two examples of managing styles, one is the conservative point of view on managing finances where the LGU leadership will properly program the funds for projects and deposit funds in the bank to avoid deficits at the end of the year; the other is the frivolous spending of the funds as they come in and later suffer from deficits due to delayed Internal Revenue Allotment (IRA) and shortfall in local collections.

“Noong ako po’y mayor don sa amin probably this is more personal than my position sa DILG, palagi ho akong may buffer na pera sa bangko, kasi nga ho hindi malaman na  may kalamidad, sabi nga nila mas mabuti na yong mayron kang natabi kaysa hihiram ka dahil nagkulang”, Sec. Robredo, who was former mayor of Naga City said.

According to Robredo, at present there are LGUs borrowing money to pay for maintenance and other operating expenses or MOOE due to shortfall in local collection. “And you should not borrow for MOOE, you should only borrow for capital outlay. Kaya kung ang tanong, mayron bang tamang pananaw sa bagay na ito, palagay ko depende kung sino at kung ano yong pananaw ng pamunuan.”

Due to fiscal management, the city government under the leadership of Mayor Celso Lobregat has been able to implement millions worth of projects and other programs without borrowing a single centavo from any financial institution and still have sizeable finances all appropriated for projects deposited in the bank.

Mayor Lobregat, who was present during the press conference, reiterated that the money that is in the bank is earmarked for projects, one of which is the sanitary landfill system, the integrated bus terminal and numerous others.

“MY question really is where would  you want that money to be—in the bank or in the pocket of the mayor?”, he asked. “I personally do not believe in borrowing money and leaving the next mayor with debts to pay and that is normally the accusation of many mayors when they leave office, the city is bankrupt, at least when I finish my third term, the next mayor is assured that he does not have to pay a single centavo to any financial institution”.

He stressed that the city government has many projects. In his first term in office, Lobregat fixed the city’s finances and implementation of projects started in the second term. “I said so much has been done, so much more has been done –last year i said the best is yet to come—the best is already here and more is coming”.

Secretary Robredo stopped over Zamboanga Monday afternoon, after leading the groundbreaking rites for various projects in Al Barka, Basilan. (Sheila Covarrubias)

Na Mi Pueblo

Welcome to my hometown – Zamboanga, a place born surrounded by the natural beauty of the shores of the Sulu Sea, the Moro Gulf and the Celebes Sea; a place rich in history, culture and heritage; a place that is mythical, enchanting and beguiling; a place unlike any other in my homeland – Philippines.

Zamboanga, today, is a bustling metropolitan city, the center of trade and commerce, government and finance, transportation and communication in Western Mindanao. It is home to an international airport, a huge seaport and an economic freeport. It is known as the “Sardines Capital of the Philippines” because of the many sardines canning factories situated here. Its primary exports are marine and aquaculture products. Its unique beaches and moderate climate are great natural attractions.

Of course, there is more to Zamboanga than these. The moment you hear the local dialect, watch the mixed-race of peoples, or walk past the local points of interest, you will feel you are in a place somewhat frozen in time. It takes you as far back in the 13th and 14th centuries, when the city was already a vibrant trading hub for Chinese and Malay seafarers, emblazoned in the resplendent colors of its vinta sails fluttering off it shores.

Nowhere is Spain’s three-century reign of the country more pronounced than in Zamboanga. The lilting sound of its native tongue, Chavacano, a delightful mix of 60% Español and 40% various local dialects, takes you to as far back in 1593 when the Castilian flag first loomed in the horizon off Caldera Bay, now Recodo and heralded a significant period in the city’s history.

Fort Pilar transports you to 1635 when it was originally built as a military base and the site on which the Spanish founded the city. In time it became the Shrine of Nuestra Señora del Pilar de Zaragosa, replete with stories of miraculous events attributed to the Lady of the Pillar that are now part of local legends and folklore. Today, the fortress houses a museum and is the best monument of the city’s Spanish heritage.

The Zamboanga City Hall sends you back to the period 1898-1935, the time of the United States administration of the city. A lone marker on Yellow Beach takes you to the landing site of the American liberation forces in 1945 following its brief occupation by the Japanese during World War II 1939-1945.

Moslem mosques with their golden minarets and villages perched on stilts over the coastal waters, stand their ground as centuries-old indelible Islamic imprints side by side Spanish and American influences.

Zamboanga became a chartered city on October 12, 1936 and included the island of Basilan which separated in 1948, and was then the largest city in the world in land area. The city annually commemorates this date as Fiesta Pilar with a weeklong celebration dubbed as the Zamboanga Hermosa Festival.

Zamboanga took its name from the Malay word jambangan, which means place of flowers in reference to the orchids and other exotic plant life proliferating in the area. Once known as the “City of Flowers” for the beauty and profusion of its blooms, it was also known as the “Place of Beautiful Women” on account of its bellas dalagas endowed with a mix-blend of Asian, European and American features.

In 2006 Zamboanga was given its newest moniker “Asia’s Latin City” anchored on its being the only city in Asia that speaks predominantly Creole Spanish. A creole language is one that emerged or descended out of cross-cultural contact. It is called "Friendship City" as well, because much the same Latin ardor is in the engaging smile and manner of its people whose vaunted cariño welcomes visitors with "Quetal?" and endearingly calls them "amigos y amigas" when they leave.

Regarded as the “Melting Pot of Southerrn Philippines,” Zamboanga’s rich past would weave a culture so ethnically diverse from which it draws so much of its mystique, romance and allure. Take a peek at, keep in touch with, and virtually experience every bit of Zamboanga within these pages. Vamos na mi pueblo, the “Philippines’ Little Spain” and so much more.