Going Ilocos
The northwestern provinces of Luzon, in the Philippines, have weathered nature and survived battle to retain their distinct charm, writes Glenn A. Baker
Where most would probably have in mind retirement, the doctor came home to restoration and renovation.
Lamenting the seemingly inevitable loss of heritage that comes with “progress”, he wanted to recast what he could of the “old world” he recalled from his youth. And so, with architect Rex Hofilena, he brought together traditional craftsmen and salvaged materials, and set about building a resort like no other, a mini-village replete with church, square and houses. (In 2007, in Currimao’s Barangay Victoria, facing the South China Sea, the village retreat of Sitio Remedios opened for business.)
The people of Ilocos feel their heritage strongly, for they are residents of Ilocandia, a realm of power since well before the Spanish galleons arrived and Catholicism was introduced to these islands.
In 1571, when Juan de Salcedo, Spanish soldier and conquistador, tasked with investigating the coastal lands north of Manila, came ashore at the provincial capital, Laoag (“the place of light”), on the northern banks of the Pasdan River, he found flourishing communities doing business with visiting Chinese and Japanese traders.
As Christianity spread, Ilocan culture remained resilient and distinct. That is what drew Cuanang back and what set him to gathering – often from scrapheaps – timber, bricks, window frames and statues. The houses of his genteel resort – each named after an Ilocos Norte town – are arranged around the village square, the Plaza de Manzanilla, and furnished with paintings of historical scenes, colonial lounge chairs, screens, large beds and bathtubs, and crocheted bedspreads and tablecloths.
Amid the manicured garden walkways, pools and fountains is a chapel, the Capilla San Miguel, which could lure even the most exuberant into gentle contemplation.