An American in Manila, 1960

August 1960

Our ship arrived in Manila on a Thursday morning about 8:00 a.m. Nearly two hours before, we had passed Bataan and Corregidor. Several members of Pepe’s family were there to welcome us: his father, uncle, cousin, sister, brother and sister-in-law. As soon as the gangplank was let down, confusion reigned. There were three other Filipinos also getting off and each had at least as many friends and relatives to meet them as we had. All of these people, besides at least a dozen porters to carry down the baggage came crowding into the passenger lounge en masse. We finally managed to extricate ourselves, relatives and baggage and debarked to the pier where we waited for customs inspection. This was completed in about two hours, which is considered good time. We managed it quickly partly because there were so few of us passengers, and partly because Pepe’s father knew some of the customs men – our baggage was given only a cursory inspection. This also meant that the taxes we had to pay were kept at a minimum.

The drive from the pier to the U.P. campus took us past some of the large municipal and government buildings, and through a part of the business district where there are dozens of private schools and universities, many operating on a shoe-string and ranging in curriculum from beauty culture to engineering. My first impression of Manila was one of dirt, poverty, and slovenliness, but this has been somewhat modified by subsequent trips to town which I’ll describe later.

Quezon City, where the U.P. campus is located, is really a suburb or extension of Manila and about a half-hour drive from there. The countryside is flat with fields of a thick, grass-like weed, small rice paddies and residences along the road. One sees the carabao, or water buffalo, everywhere. The vegetation is tropical and includes many of the beautiful and exotic plants we had seen in Hawaii. One of my favorites is the calachuchi, which in Hawaii is called plumeria and elsewhere in the tropics, frangipani. It is a small five-petaled wax-like flower, usually white with tinges of pink and yellow, best known as the flower from which leis are made. It has a lovely subtle fragrance slightly reminiscent of lemon. Pepe had planted one of these bushes in the yard here before he left for the States and now it has grown to a height of seven or eight feet with leaves 10 to 12 inches in length. (They are shaped much like rhododendron leaves.) There are many other interesting and colorful trees, plants, and flowers whose names I don’t yet know.

Patricia, a few weeks after arrival in the Philippines, in front of her new home, T-1462 Area 17, U.P. Campus

Our Sawali House

At present, we are living with Pepe’s sister, Lily, her husband, Nandi (short for Fernando), and their three children plus two maids in housing on the campus provided by the University for faculty and administrative workers. The house has sawali walls inside and out. This is bamboo which has been flattened into strips about two inches wide and woven into a herring-bone pattern. There are screened windows around all the outside walls with a two-foot overhanging roof for protection from sun and rain. Sliding panels of cello-glass, which lets in light but not rain, can be moved along the screened window areas and completely shut them off in case of heavy winds and rains. There is also a screened panel about a foot high running around the base of all outside walls which is protected from rain on the outside by a slanted overhang of sawali and which lets air circulate in any weather – rain or shine. A similar panel runs around the top of the wall under the eaves to allow a maximum of air circulation. So, even though the weather is hot and humid most of the year, the house is built to give maximum comfort, catching every possible stray breeze. Incidentally the whole house is raised about 2 feet above the ground on stilts and there are gullies from six inches to a foot or more deep all around the edge of the yard to allow rapid drainage of water when the rains come.

Patricia, John, and Paul, in the sala area that was an extension added to the Area 17 house, in front, probably around 1966/67.

Our house is one of a group built on a hillside at the edge of campus, so that we look out upon a rice field across the road, see the carabaos being used as work animals by the farmers, and have awakened at 5:00 a.m. to hear cocks crowing across the way. In the distance are the rooftops of another section of Quezon City and at night many pretty lights.

The first evening we were here I noticed a small creature flash across the screen outside one of the windows and upon investigation discovered that it was a small cream-colored lizard 3 to 5 inches long, very much like the chameleons which were popular for a while as pets when I was in grade school. The only difference I could see was in their coloring. I learned that they are harmless, staying out of sight most of the day and coming out in the evening to cling to the screens and catch the insects which are attracted there by the lights inside. Sometimes there will be as many as four or five on one section of screen, cheerfully helping to keep down the insect population.

Most of these houses are furnished with rattan and/or bamboo furniture, some of which is very attractive and I think, comparable to the light, modern furniture imported from the Scandinavian countries. Heavy upholstered furniture would not be very practical or comfortable here because of the climate.

John and Paul on Mom's lap, in the house in Area 17, in 1964.

Almost everything that I’ve tried so far has been delicious, and I must confess I’ve not missed American food too much, except for one thing – a good tossed salad.

Food 

Mealtimes are: breakfast at 7 to 8 am; lunch at 12; merienda, an afternoon snack at about 4; and dinner at 7:30. For breakfast we usually have eggs, sausage, fish, or bacon; cheese, coffee and pan de sal, a roll very similar to French hard rolls, but with a thinner crust – delicious! The food served for lunch and dinner are very similar except that there is usually more for dinner. Merienda consists of coffee and a sweet of some kind: bread pudding (served hot with butter), pancakes with butter and sugar, pan de sal with coco-honey (a honey-like condiment made from coconut), fried bananas rolled in sugar. These are among the things I have had so far at merienda. Incidentally, there are many varieties of bananas here, usually about half the length of the ones familiar in the States and all with a richer flavor. There is also a special banana used for cooking, which is almost transparent in appearance and much heavier than those eaten plain. They have a slightly tart flavor which is excellent for cooking purposes.

Dinner usually consists of the following types of dishes: a meat dish or two, fish, a vegetable dish or two and the inevitable rice. Almost everything that I’ve tried so far has been delicious, and I must confess I’ve not missed American food too much, except for one thing – a good tossed salad. A favorite meat dish here is as follows: thin slices (1/4 inch) of beef are marinated in soy sauce and lemon juice and then fried with onions. The marinade is then heated and thickened and poured over the beef as a sauce. I’ve also had this same recipe used with pork and liver. Small spicy sausages are often served and a great variety of fish, from small crispy fried ones to a large stuffed fish, which is baked. Vegetables are never just boiled or steamed and served as such. There are two basic methods of serving a vegetable dish. One way is to saute in oil, garlic, and onion a vegetable such as squash, green beans or limas with some kind of meat – shrimp, bits of pork, corned beef, or pork balls. The second most popular dish reminds me more than anything else of New England boiled dinner: chicken or beef, usually, is boiled with potatoes and cabbage, sometimes with slices of eggplant and banana, beans or spinach-like greens added to or substituted for the potato and cabbage. This dish is always served with liquid, which is then spooned onto the rice for flavor. Sometimes too, cups of broth from the dish are served separately.

One of my favorite meat dishes is called lumpia. It consists of a thin pastry covering, papery-thin, filled with a pork or shrimp mixture, and deep-fried. A spicy sauce is served with the lumpia. As you can see there is plenty of variety in the food (I’ve mentioned only a few examples) and most of them require more preparation than American foods. You can’t just put the vegetables on to boil or pop the roast in the oven. The fruits which are often served for desert are also many and varied. I had thought I at least knew of most tropical fruits, even though I’d never tried them, but I’ve found there are many I’d never seen or heard of! So I’ve been having a fine time trying many new flavors and textures.

Housekeeping

Domestic help is very cheap here, and Lily has two maids. One, named Auring, takes care of all the laundry and some of the cleaning. She also helps with the children. The other, Simiona, does the cooking, cleaning, and helps with the marketing. Auring, who is 19 and has fewer responsibilities, receives 40 pesos a month, while Simiona, who is a widow in her thirties, receives 50 pesos. The exchange rate is approximately 2 pesos to the dollar. Both maids live in the house, sleeping in a tiny room behind the kitchen. Their bed is a low wooden frame with slats over which they lay a mat which is rolled up and put away during the day. This is the traditional bed of the county people if they don’t sleep on a mat laid directly on the floor.

Laundering is a primitive chore here. All of it, including sheets and towels, is done by hand in two large metal pans about two feet in diameter. The white things are then laid out in the grass where they are bleached by the sun to a whiteness that would be the envy of any American housewife. I was amused to see an ad on TV for Tide in which washings were compared for whiteness, not as they were removed from automatic washers, but from the washing pans used here!

House cleaning equipment is also quite different. Two types of brooms are used, both made of native grasses. One is stiff and looks very much like the decorative broom used for fireplace sets in America. The other is similar in construction but has very fine soft fibers at the end. This latter broom is used as we would use a mop, to sweep up fine dust. The most interesting item to me is a large half coconut shell. The shell is about an inch thick and since the fibers have been cut across the grain, they form a rough bristly surface. The maid then pushes this rhythmically back and forth with her foot to polish the floors. It gives them a wonderful satin-like luster.

October 1960

A Long Rainy Season

From July to October is the rainy season. When we arrived on August 4th it was drizzling, and this turned out to be the beginning of a three-week deluge. Three typhoons followed quickly upon one another, giving me a grandiose introduction to tropical rain storms. All of you have experienced a downpour, I’m sure, but imagine this accompanied by a good strong wind and several times as intense.

The rain would start quite suddenly and then continue to increase to such a pitch that it seemed as though enormous buckets of water were being poured directly on us. Just when it seemed no more could possibly come down, it would rain even harder. The effect was heightened by the fact that the roof is made of corrugated metal and the rain beating upon it created such a roar that it was impossible to hear any talking below a shout. This kept up almost continuously for nearly three weeks and created the floods and devastation you may have read about in the papers. Luckily, we are on high ground here and no damage was done. However, the great amount of moisture in the air is very conducive to the growth of mold and we soon found our leather things – suitcases, books, and shoes – covered with a fine layer of it. Though we kept brushing them, we weren’t able to get rid of it until the sun finally shone and we were able to lay them outside for several hours.

Moving Around

We’ve been here now for over two months and, in that time, I’ve made many trips into Manila: with Pepe for various errands and with Lily for marketing and shopping. From campus, we take a bus into the city and then usually a jeepney or taxi to various parts of the city. The buses are strictly from Tobacco Road. Old, rattle-ridden and rickety, they are furnished with wooden seats on either side of a central aisle. They are made to seat three people on one side and two on the other, but actually they aren’t quite wide enough for either, so the person unlucky enough to find himself nearest the aisle is sitting precariously on half a seat and must cling for dear life as the bus careens along. There is only one entrance and exit door and this in the middle rather than at the front of the bus. The fares are collected by a conductress, who also lets the driver know when passengers want to get on and off. There is no glass in the windows, but shades that can be pulled down for protection from sun or rain. One interesting aspect of bus riding here is the attitude towards the passenger with bulky packages or bundles. In the States there is, of course, often much grumbling from passengers and driver alike when someone gets on with bulky packages. Not so here. Usually, the conductress will help the one getting on or off with packages and the other passengers nonchalantly step around or over things left in the aisles. (There are no overhead racks).

In Manila itself it is often more convenient to travel by jeepney than by bus. The jeepney is, I think, a unique institution. It is a converted jeep, surplus product of the war. It has a semi-dome-shaped roof which juts out over the vehicle for the inevitably necessary protection against sun and rain. The inside is fitted with benches along either side, which seat three comfortably and four like sardines. Two more passengers can sit in front with the driver, making a total of 10 passengers. Most of the jeepney drivers take pride in their vehicles and many of them are gaudily painted and decorated very much like circus wagons. Each jeepney has an assigned route which is proclaimed by a sign on the windshield and the fare is 10 centavos. There are hundreds of these vehicles in operation, and the city streets are glutted with them. Occasionally it is more convenient and nearly as cheap to take a taxi. Most of these are small foreign cars and the fare is 15 centavos + 5 for each additional 300 meters (or approximately 1/5 mile); amazingly cheap compared with the States. We can ride from Manila to the campus, a distance of eight or nine miles for 2.50 to 3.50 pesos.

Jeeps and buses ply the Avenida Rizal in Manila during the `60s (Source: The Visual Traveler)

I was very much surprised by the amount of traffic there is in Manila. All of the main business streets are crowded with vehicles, and traffic at the rush hours is much the same as in New York. Here, however, it is made even worse by a minimum of traffic lights and no lane divisions, so that drivers continuously weave in and out and cars coming in from side streets snarl things still further. Another headache is caused by car breakdowns. Since the majority of the vehicles in operation are 5 to 25 years old, these breakdowns are frequent and add to the congestion and confusion.

Impressions of Manila

Earlier I mentioned that my first impression of Manila was one of dirt, poverty, and slovenliness. Let me elaborate. Much of Manila was razed in the bombardments of the last days of the war, so most of the buildings were built after 1945. Nevertheless, even in the case of these relatively new structures, one’s initial reaction is that they are badly in need of repair and refurbishing. The large and impressive government buildings, as well as many of the large office buildings, are all shabby and dirty-looking. The lawns and grassy areas surrounding them are often unkempt and neglected. According to Pepe, the government simply does not have the revenue necessary for constant upkeep, so the buildings remain unpainted, deterioration is ignored, and the lawns are not cared for. The torrential rains wreak havoc with the roads, and streets and repairs on these are slow and sporadic, so they’re always full of holes and very dusty. It is easy to understand why Manila is no great tourist attraction – there’s just nothing much to admire! Mabini, the street on which most of the expensive shops are located, gives somewhat this same overall impression, though the shops themselves are nicely decorated inside and there are many fine products for sale. Escolta, the center of the business district most nearly resembles an American city’s downtown business section and here the streets are better kept and the buildings less run down.

These sections are geared to the earnings of Americans and wealthy Filipinos and so largely out of bounds for us except for window shopping and special purchases. Incidentally, it is here that one finds a few supermarkets which are very much like U.S. ones and carry mostly American products. However, the prices are very high and, with some diligence, the same things can be bought elsewhere for much less.

If anyone had told me I would ever have to shop in this way, I would have been appalled, but I’m learning fast.

Food Shopping

We do most of our food shopping in a place called Quiapo. Here are narrow, dirty streets with hundreds of small shops selling every imaginable product. Then there is a large warehouse-like building, the Quinta Market, made up of hundreds of small booths about six feet wide where fresh fruit, vegetables, meats, and fish are sold. Inside it is hot, dirty, and smelly. The various butchers specialize in types of meats: some selling pork, others beef, etc. At first I found the meat unrecognizable. It is set out on the counters in large hunks and slabs and consists mostly of the cheaper cuts of meat. One haggles with the seller over various pieces and then they are cut to order. I’ve never smelled anything quite like the odor of raw meat in that hot, crowded place. The fish section is even more odorous as you can well imagine. It’s a far cry from the A&P, but after several excursions there with Lily and the maid, I’m becoming quite blasé about the whole thing.

Plaza Miranda, Quiapo in 1960s (Source: reddit)

The fruit and vegetable sections were nothing but confusion to me at first, too, for the simple reason that so many of them were new varieties that I’d never seen before. I’m so thankful that I didn’t have to plunge into marketing on my own right from the first. By going along as an observer only, I’m beginning to recognize the various foods and know approximately what they should cost. Staples are bought in small retail groceries in the same section, mostly run by Chinese, and there are also drug stores, hardware, and dry goods shops in all of which one is expected to haggle. If anyone had told me I would ever have to shop in this way, I would have been appalled, but I’m learning fast. It’s too bad most Americans will never have this experience. I’ve heard all my life about our high standard of living but never had any idea of what that really meant until I came here to a so-called “underdeveloped country.” It’s an experience I will value all my life.

Another interesting shopping place is in a section called Divisoria. Here also are huge warehouse-like buildings with hundreds of stalls which sell all kinds of cloth and clothing materials, native woven products, and various odds and ends. The materials are so-called remnants, mostly imported from America or Japan, but all of them are large enough for most sewing needs. The variety is incredible and, with a little diligence, it is possible to get anything there from suiting material to bed sheeting. Here too, one is expected to haggle over prices.

The University Campus

The University of the Philippines campus in the 1950s (Source: UP Diliman facebook page)

The University of the Philippines campus used to be in Manila, but in 1948 it was moved out here to Quezon City. Eventually, all government buildings will be located here rather than in Manila, but because of lack of funds that won’t be for many years. The campus itself is large and sprawling and most of the buildings are contemporary in style. The ones most recently built are lovely, but here too, the first built ones are beginning to look a bit shabby on the outside because they need a new coat of paint. The campus site is on high ground and the temperature is always several degrees cooler than that in Manila; a real blessing in a country as hot as this.

I hope I’ve been able to give you some idea of the country and life as it is lived here. It is certainly different from life in the States, and yet the Philippines is considered to be the most advanced of the underdeveloped countries of Southeast Asia, as well as the most westernized.


Patricia Kearney Encarnación is the American wife of the former Dean of the U.P. School of Economics, José Encarnación, Jr. She met him in New York as he was completing his PhD in Economics at Princeton University, and they soon got engaged, married, and returned to the Philippines, where she would spend the next 30 years raising a family and learning a whole new way of life. Now 93, she lives in St. Louis, MO, with her only daughter, Riza.