Binondo: The bustling hometown of my ancestors
Fascinated by the movement of my Ongpin ancestors around the many addresses they held in Binondo, the center of Manila’s Chinatown, I was curious to delve deeper into the streets that played a role in the fortunes of the Roman Ongpin family and their general merchandise shop “El 82” (pronounced “el ochenta y dos”) that specialized in art supplies, from the late 19th century until the decline of the business after World War II. The Philippines’ Chinatown is reputed to be the world’s oldest, tracing its origins to the late 16th century. I enlisted the help of Chinatown guide par excellence, Ivan Man Dy, who happens to be a Binondo native, having spent his early years in the arrabal (outlying district) of San Nicolas, to help me explore the streets and addresses relevant to my family’s history.
The streets of Binondo had storied names. For example, Calle Rosario (now Quintin Paredes), leads from Jones Bridge directly to the Binondo Church which was established by the Dominicans and dedicated to Nuestra Señora del Rosario. Streets such as Anloague (now Juan Luna) and Sacristia (now Ongpin) were mentioned in Rizal’s novel, Noli Me Tangere. Several were named after the professions of their residents. The aforementioned Anloague means “carpenter” and was where the Chinese artisans were located. Jaboneros indicated soapmakers, and Fundidor, foundry workers. Quite a few bear the names of Spanish governors, including Dasmariñas, Claveria, and Urbiztondo, among others. Ivan informed me that there are also informal, traditional Chinese names for the streets, and he is compiling a list.
Binondo Church
We met Ivan inside the Binondo Church, which is now known as the Minor Basilica of St Lorenzo Ruiz, after the Binondo native who was martyred in Japan in the 17th century. I visited the lovely image of the Nuestra Señora del Pronto Socorro, rendered in oil on a metal sheet, carrying the infant Jesus as she stands on a crescent moon surrounded by gold stars. Dating from the 16th century, the image was revered in the Parian of Intramuros where the Sangleys (pure Chinese) were confined. When Binondo was founded as a mission parish by the Dominicans for Sangleys and mestizos (Chinese who married natives or naturales), the image moved with them. The lovely work is somewhat marred by its setting within a glass niche painted with a cheesy pale blue confection of clouds and cherubs.
Outside the church, we crossed over to the tiny plaza where a statue of my great-great grandfather Roman Ongpin was erected in 1975 to honor his patriotic deeds as a member of the Binondo community. We started off on one of the streets bordering the plaza, Quintin Paredes, formerly Calle Rosario, which was (and still is) one of the main thoroughfares of Binondo. In the 19th century, it was lined with mostly mestizo-run shops selling all manner of goods. The first known address of El 82 was 15 Calle Rosario.
Quintin Paredes Road (formerly Calle Rosario)
Today, Quintin Paredes remains one of the busiest Binondo streets where the swift and constant flow of cars, delivery trucks, and e-vehicles, combined with the liberal use of car horns, competes for attention, together with the frankly deafening PA-amplified bell-ringing of the Binondo Church. Just as in the past, a variety of businesses are located here, from banks and offices to restaurants, fast food joints, sundry shops, and even street food purveyors. We noted a large abandoned building—subject of a court case as indicated by notices plastered all over the exterior—that had an elegant arcade over the sidewalk, offering protection from rain and sun, a common and practical feature of early 20th-century concrete buildings all over Asia.
Dasmariñas Street
We took a left onto Dasmariñas Street, known to be the hub of hardware stores in Binondo. The dominant presence here is the arcaded Yutivo Building, dating from 1922, long as a city block, with art deco touches,. The building façade retains the bold signage “Yutivo Sons Hardware Corp.” Yutivo was a well-known business conglomerate until the 1960s, dealing in hardware, automobiles, and real estate, among others. Still visually impressive despite its somewhat faded air, it is now a multi-use commercial building.
Nueva (now Yuchengco Street) and Gandara (now Sabino Padilla Street)
From Dasmarinas, we turned left onto Nueva (now Yuchengco) and emerged at a junction with Gandara (now Sabino Padilla). El 82 was located on Rosario at the “mouth of Gandara,” according to Roman Ongpin’s son Alfonso. On Gandara, which I recall to be famous for its shoe shops decades ago, we noted workers folding printed tarpaulin signs for a party list group participating in the upcoming elections, spilling out onto the road. According to Ivan, Gandara is now known as a source of tarpaulins.
We continued down Nueva, which houses many paper supply shops. Packets of familiar brands of paper were stacked along the sidewalk, waiting to be loaded into the many mini delivery trucks parked alongside. Kartilyas or handcarts, stacked with packaged goods, criss-crossed the street, expertly mingling with moving vehicles, a common sight hereabouts.
Still on Nueva, we stopped by an open walkway of a building which contained a well-kept shrine to Kua Yin, a “Chinese Buddhist mother-like figure,” as Ivan put it. A neatly dressed middle-aged woman passing through saw our interest in the shrine, and paused to explain, in heavily accented Tagalog, about the powers of the deity. Ivan later said she was likely a new arrival in Binondo, owing to her accent. The devout temple caretaker told us how he had been miraculously saved from serious injury in a street accident by the goddess. He gently halted my hand holding some cash intended for the donation box saying, “not too much.”
It was lunchtime, a precious rest hour for some, as evidenced by the random foot or leg protruding from truck cabs and the prostrate bodies napping on top of the stockpiled goods as seen through the open back doors of the trucks.
Carvajal Street
We made a left from Nueva into the pedestrianized Carvajal Street, a familiar and favorite thoroughfare which I never fail to visit when in Binondo. A curved alleyway tucked between Nueva and Quintin Paredes, Carvajal is lined with a range of food stalls selling cooked food, fruit, and vegetables; and hole-in-the-wall type eateries such as Quik Snak and the famous New Po Heng Lumpia House. We started at the Nueva end where Ho-Land Hopia, an excellent Asian deli and purveyor of my favorite hopia brand, was located. As we wound our way down this short street, I bought Chinese pechay and kailan, and upon Ivan’s recommendation, a delicious large thin palitaw loaded with sugar, coconut, and sesame seeds.
San Nicolas District
We emerged back onto Quintin Paredes near the Roman Ongpin Statue and headed past Plaza San Lorenzo Ruiz (formerly Plaza Calderon de la Barca/Plaza de Binondo) towards the San Nicolas district by crossing the San Fernando Bridge. Formerly a footbridge, it leads into San Fernando St., part of which was called Calle de Colon, now a name of the past, which was where El 82, the art supplies shop of Roman Ongpin, was located for more than a decade. In contrast to bustling Binondo, the San Nicolas district seemed much more quiet, almost sleepy.
San Nicolas was Ivan’s turf, having lived here for eight years as a young boy. He pointed out a tall yellow building nearby, owned by his grandfather, and recalled a time when he broke his arm playing with a kartilya on the street.
Ivan suggested a meal at a new restaurant “Xin Xiang” on San Fernando Street, where we had an excellent meal of rice with mustard leaves and peanuts, a juicy oyster omelette, steamed suahe (shrimp), melt-in-your-mouth pork hotpot, and beef with peppers. Specializing in seafood, there were various aquariums containing live sea creatures one could make a selection from, a slightly distressing scene for an animal lover like me. There is a high turnover of restaurants in Binondo, with many new ones often run by the newcomer Chinese in town, which was likely the case with this one.
We backtracked toward the foot of the bridge to have a brief look at a showy, pagoda-style volunteer fire station where Ivan used to play as a child. Apparently, the frequency of fires in Chinese commercial districts, such as Binondo, led the community to form their own volunteer firefighters to engender a quicker disaster response. According to Ivan, Chinese communites all over the country are known for their volunteer firefighting brigades.
Urbiztondo Street, birthplace of Antonio Luna
We continue to make our way towards Urbiztondo Street to view the bahay na bato house where General Antonio Luna was born, as stated in the historical plaque beside it. Three Philippine flags fluttered on the wooden upper floor. Now privately owned and used as a warehouse, the house proportions are large and stately despite its neglected state. Turning the corner, we passed the street of San Nicolas where a shrine devoted to the crucifix of Sto. Cristo de Longos, a local icon, was installed, marking the location of the well in which it was said to have been found by a deaf-mute who then became able to speak.
Fundidor Street
We walked down a small quiet side street, Fundidor, which means foundry worker. We stopped to admire a handsome early 20th-century building which Ivan thought may have been a former distillery. The spacious ground floor entryway had been converted into a wholesaler of school supplies, children’s inflatables, and toy prizes. Another shop nearby sold all manner of colorful plastic items. I attempted to buy a large zippered plastic holdall which was quoted at P30. When I expressed I only wanted one piece, the Chinese owner told me that was the wholesale price, therefore purchasing only one would cost almost twice, P50—still a good price—so I bought it.
Jaboneros, Asuncion, and Ilang-Ilang
Ivan led us down Asuncion Street, past Jaboneros which retains its original European-style tile street signs. Along Asuncion, a typical San Nicolas street, were shops selling a variety of specialized merchandise—pet supplies, plastic containers, ropes of all sizes, etc.—mostly seen through nondescript shop entrances, literally holes in the wall. The shops do straightforward wholesale business, and don’t bother with prettying up their premises. Many had black plastic-wrapped items piled up outside the shop doors, apparently Lazada and Shoppee purchases, as many merchants have adapted to online selling in order to survive the modern shopping experience.
Along this street, we spotted the original building of the Casa Tribunal de Naturales (native Filipinos), a sort of community center for the smallest of the three gremios, or guilds, which organized Binondo residents according to ethnicity, for tax purposes. A distinctive pediment design made it recognizable as the building was, sadly, in a state of severe decrepitude. In typical Binondo fashion where no space is wasted, even a seemingly unlivable one, we noted through the grimy windows that a machine shop-cum-workers’ quarters was actually housed within.
On Ilang-Ilang, we met Ivan’s uncle who ran a neat and well-stocked imported PX goods-type of shop which has been around for almost 40 years. Here, Ivan pointed out a box on the floor filled with “fake” paper money for burning at the temple on a specified feast day, recalling how his grandmother would sometimes task him to form and fold the tubular shapes with red and gold paper.
Sto. Cristo Street
Our last stop was the premises of Buenaventura Tan Guiam and Sons on Sto. Cristo Street managed by Ivan’s high school classmate, Alvin Tan, a grandson of the owner. Stepping into the shop was like stepping back in time. Founded ca.1936, it is a typical general merchandise store that had its particular product lines. The narrow interior, with a vintage cement tile floor and heavy folding wooden doors with inlaid iron grillwork, was lined on both sides with wood and glass shelving accommodating boxes, tools and other goods. Among the items the shop carries are the ubiquitous kartilyas, and industrial gloves. A mezzanine lined with wooden balusters had been completely given over to storage space.
The shop’s interior reminded me instantly of those of El 82, Roman Ongpin’s shop, which I had seen photographs of. There was the same type of floor-to-ceiling wooden shelving, the stairs to an upper floor or mezzanine, the boxes of goods on glassed shelves, the specialized products they sold; which, in the case of El 82, were art supplies imported from Europe, and in later years, Ilford brand film.
The afternoon walk offered an eye-opening glimpse of the Binondo where my ancestors’ business prospered in the 19th century up until its decline in the 1940s, when wartime looting spelled its demise. Still a thriving and energetic business district today, many traces of its past remain in its streets, buildings, and businesses. I was particularly struck by the easy mingling of religions with their varied icons—goddesses, Buddhas, crucifixes—spotted streetside, or inside buildings and shops; all in the shadow of the Catholic Binondo Church. Although some of Binondo’s parts are faded and decrepit, the new structures, shops, and even the renamed streets continue to flourish, a sign of how the district constantly renews itself through time as it continues to welcome newcomers trying their hand at succeeding in business, as my ancestors did.
Though the Ongpins eventually left Binondo, heading to newer parts of the city, what hasn’t left is its beating heart of commerce, felt in its streets busy with enterprise and bustling with life.
