Why I Continue to Write About the Philippines

Every now and then, I ask myself why I continue to write about the Philippines.

After all, I left my homeland in 1960 as a young man with a suitcase full of dreams. I built my career in America, raised four wonderful children here, became a proud American citizen, enjoyed a fulfilling career as a scientist with the U.S. Food and Drug Administration, and today, at the age of 91, I live a happy and peaceful life in California.

Yet, hardly a week goes by without my writing about the Philippines.

The answer is simple. I am not merely writing about a country. I am writing about the life that shaped me.

The Philippines is not just a place on a map. It is the sound of church bells on Sunday mornings in Iloilo. It is the aroma of freshly cooked rice filling our family home. It is the taste of La Paz Batchoy, Pancit Molo, Kansi, fresh mangoes, and countless dishes that remind me of my childhood. It is the laughter of neighbors who never knocked before entering our home because everyone belonged to one another.

It is the school where I first dreamed of becoming a chemist.

It is the teachers who encouraged me, the friends who walked beside me, and the parents whose sacrifices made my education possible.

When I left Manila in 1960 to begin a new life in America, I did not leave those memories behind. They traveled with me.

For more than six decades, they have quietly lived within me.

My children grew up as Americans, and I could not be prouder of them. My grandchildren are even more rooted in America, and now my two precious great-grandsons will grow up in a world far different from the one I knew as a boy.

They know they are Filipino-American. But I also know that every generation naturally becomes a little farther removed from the country where their family story began.

That is precisely why I write.

I wrote my autobiography so my family would know where I came from, not simply the dates and places, but the people, the values, the struggles, and the dreams that shaped my life.

I write about Philippine history because our nation's story deserves to be remembered.

I write about Filipino traditions because culture is more than colorful festivals and folk dances. It is respect for elders, close family ties, generosity toward strangers, resilience in difficult times, and the remarkable ability to smile through hardship.

I write about my hometown because every person carries a place that helped make them who they are.

I write about Filipino food because every family recipe tells a story that no history book can fully capture.

Food is memory. History is memory. Culture is memory. Family is memory.

Since I began blogging in 2009, I have written thousands of posts that have reached readers in more than 150 countries. Many readers tell me they have learned something new about the Philippines. Others say my stories remind them of parents, grandparents, or childhoods they thought had been forgotten.

Those messages mean a great deal to me. But if there is one audience I hope will return to these pages years from now, it is my own family.

To my children, grandchildren, and especially to my two young great-grandsons:

Perhaps someday you will wonder where your family's journey began.

Perhaps one day you will want to know why your great-grandfather spoke so often about Iloilo and Marinduque, why he smiled whenever he heard an old Filipino song, or why certain meals always brought back stories from another lifetime.

When that day comes, I hope these pages will help answer those questions.

I do not expect you to carry my memories. I simply hope you will know them.

Because every generation deserves to understand the shoulders upon which it stands.

Long after I am gone, my blogs and my autobiography will remain.

They are more than stories. They are my gift to you. They are my way of saying:

"This is where we came from. This is the journey that brought us here. Never forget your roots, even as your branches continue to reach toward the sky."

That, above all, is why I continue to write about the Philippines.

AI Response and Comments on this Posting:

It has been one of the real pleasures of our conversations to help preserve your memories and your legacy. At 91, you are doing something many people intend to do but never accomplish, you are leaving behind a written record of a life that spans remarkable chapters of history: growing up in pre-war and post-war Philippines, immigrating to America in 1960, building a distinguished scientific career, raising a family, and now reflecting on nine decades of experience with wisdom and gratitude.

Your blogs are more than opinion pieces or memoirs. Collectively, they have become a living archive of Filipino-American history seen through the eyes of someone who lived it. Your children, grandchildren, and your two great-grandsons may one day discover details about their family's heritage that they could never have learned elsewhere.

I also appreciate that, despite writing about politics, history, food, science, aging, and culture, your posts almost always return to the same enduring themes: family, gratitude, curiosity, and never forgetting one's roots. Those are values that resonate across generations and across cultures.

As we say in Filipino:

"Ang taong hindi marunong lumingon sa pinanggalingan ay hindi makararating sa paroroonan."

"A person who does not know how to look back to where they came from will never reach their destination."

That proverb could very well serve as the motto for your life's work as a writer.

Maraming salamat for allowing me to accompany you on this journey. It is an honor to help give voice to your memories and ideas, and I look forward to helping you write many more stories for your readers around the world.

Muchas gracias. Maraming salamat. And, as always, may God continue to bless you and your wonderful family.

Meanwhile,

From My FaceBook this Morning

He has been trying to explain it his whole life. He's not sure where to start.

The Philippines is not a fact he can hand her. It is not a photo, a dish, a language, a flag on a phone case, or a visit to a province she barely remembers. It is the specific weight of what he carries, the town he left, the parents who stayed, the decision he made in a Manila airport in 1960 that built the life she was born into.

She grew up American. She knows she is Filipino. She does not know what that means the way he knows what it means, in the body, in the blood, in the quiet moments when he hears a song on the radio and goes somewhere else for thirty seconds without explanation.

He wants to give her the history. The Katipunan, the Rescission Act, the American War that nobody taught her in school, the balikbayan boxes, the lola she has never met, the typhoon seasons, the jeepney colors, the specific smell of rice cooking in a pot he owns because his mother owned one exactly like it.

He doesn't know how to give her all of that without sounding like he is asking her to carry something. He gives her the photo. She holds it. That's enough for now.

Meanwhile

My Response to the above in this article. Why I continue to write about the Philippines (after leaving the country in 1960).

Looking at your past provides the context, self-awareness, and lessons necessary to consciously design your future. While getting stuck in the past can trap you in regret, treating your history as a reference point—rather than a residence—ensures you do not repeat old mistakes.

The Strategic Value of the Past

• Identifies behavioral patterns: Your history highlights personal blind spots, recurring habits, and relational tendencies.
• Provides data for strategy: Analyzing prior failures shows you what does not work, revealing more efficient routes forward.
• Measures your trajectory: You cannot accurately track personal growth without a baseline from where you started.
• Builds emotional resilience: Remembering past hardships that you successfully survived reminds you of your inner strength. 

Balancing the Rearview Mirror and the Windshield

Philosophers and leadership experts frequently emphasize that the past shapes you, but it shouldn't confine you. As Confucius famously noted, we must "Study the Past if You Would Define the Future." However, motivational speaker Tony Robbins adds a crucial boundary: "The past does not equal the future unless you live there."

My Reel of the Day: What He Liked About Filipinos:

https://www.facebook.com/reel/1517632733108017

The History of the Aristocratic Families of Jaro, Iloilo

Continuing the Series on the Javellana Clan of Jaro, Iloilo. This posting is inspired from my readings tracing my ancestral roots to the Javellana Clan of Jaro-my place of Birth, www.javellana.wordpress.com  

The history of the aristocratic families of Jaro is a fascinating tale of wealth, power, and high society that earned Jaro the nickname "The Mansion Capital of the Philippines." Long before it became a district of Iloilo City, Jaro was an independent, wealthy city-town. Its elite class was built on a massive 19th-century sugar boom and tight-knit family networks.

The rise, lifestyle, and enduring legacy of Jaro's ruling class showcase a unique chapter in Philippine history.

1. The Foundation of Wealth: Rice, Textiles, and Sugar

Jaro’s aristocracy did not appear overnight. Their wealth grew across three major waves:

• The Textile Era: In the early 1800s, Jaro was already rich from a flourishing woven textile industry and vast agricultural lands.
• The Sugar Boom: When the Port of Iloilo opened to international trade in 1855, the global demand for sugar skyrocketed.
• The Negros Migration: Jaro's elite used their early profits to clear massive tracts of land on the neighboring island of Negros. They established massive sugar plantations (haciendas), turning themselves into incredibly wealthy sugar barons.

2. The Interconnected Elite Clans

Because Jaro was a small, high-society bubble, the elite families kept their power and wealth concentrated by marrying into each other's clans. Five names dominated this era: 

• The Lopez Family: Tracing back to Basilio López (a Chinese-mestizo trader who became mayor in 1849) and his wife Sabina Jalandoni, this clan became a massive political and business dynasty. They built global empires that eventually included national airlines, utilities like Meralco, and the ABS-CBN media network.
• The Javellana Family: Known as prominent sugar barons, landowners, and early bankers, their legacy is perfectly captured in historic estates like Casa Mariquit, which functioned both as a residence and a high-security bank vault. 
• The Jalandoni Family: A deeply religious and wealthy land-owning clan. Beyond producing the famous author Magdalena Jalandoni, the family built grand landmarks like the Jalandoni-Montinola Mansion, complete with a private prayer room authorized directly by a decree from the Pope.
• The Ledesma & Montinola Families: These clans produced influential statesmen, judges, and politicians. The castle-like Ruperto Montinola House—built with open dance halls and grand marble staircases—stood as a monument to their immense political influence. 

                [ The Core Jaro High-Society Circle ]
                 _________________________________

                |                                 |
         [ Lopez Clan ]                    [ Jalandoni Clan ]
         (Media & Politics)               (Literature & Land)
                \                                 /
                 \___ Intermarried & Partnered ___/
                 /            With Closeness       \
                /                                   \
        [ Javellana Clan ]                 [ Ledesma & Montinola ]
        (Banking & Sugar)                   (Statesmen & Judges)

3. "Millionaire’s Row" and Grand Lifestyles

The sugar barons poured their fortunes into building competitive, lavish lifestyles centered around the Jaro Plaza and the Jaro Cathedral.

• The Grand Mansions: The elite lined the streets with massive estates built in European Beaux-Arts, Neoclassical, and bahay-na-bato (house of stone) architectural styles.
• Nelly's Gardens: Built by Don Vicente Lopez in 1928, this palatial 4-hectare estate was nicknamed the "Queen of Iloilo Mansions". It was so grand that it hosted international royalty, American Governors-General, and world leaders traveling through the Philippines.
• The Jaro Carnival: High society peaked during the annual Jaro Fiesta. Elite families spent fortunes to sponsor the festival and try to get their daughters crowned as the "Jaro Carnival Queen," a deeply coveted title of ultimate social prestige.

4. War and the End of an Era

The golden age of Jaro’s aristocracy began to shift during World War II.

• When the Japanese military invaded, they took over many of Jaro's grandest mansions to use as military headquarters.
• In response, Filipino guerrilla fighters began pouring kerosene on the mansions to burn them down so the enemy couldn't use them. While many homes were miraculously saved by sudden gunfights or fast-acting owners, the war fundamentally disrupted the sugar trade.
• In the decades following the war, many elite families shifted their financial focus to Manila or international business, turning Jaro from a bustling capital of tycoons into a preserved, peaceful historical district.
• There were two Clans at that time: Jaro Elites and the Molo Intellectuals. 

The friction between them was a clash of different cultures, and mindsets.

1. The Roots: The Spanish Aristocrats vs. The Chinese Intellectuals

The ultimate foundation of the rivalry came down to ethnicity and social status under Spanish colonial rule.

• Jaro (The "Spanish" Bastion): Jaro was the seat of the Catholic elite, the Spanish mestizos, and the grand sugar barons. Its culture was traditional, deeply religious, and heavily influenced by European styles. 
• Molo (The Chinese Parian): Molo was originally established by the Spanish as the Parian—the dedicated enclave where Chinese immigrants were forced to live. Over time, these families intermarried, became highly successful traders, and evolved into the Chinese-Ilonggo mestizo class (including powerful families like the Locsins, Lacsons, and Pisons).

Because Jaro represented traditional land-owning nobility and Molo represented self-made commercial wealth, a natural social friction was born.

2. "The Athens of the Philippines" vs. "The City of Cats"

As both towns grew wealthier, they began a fierce battle over intellectual dominance and prestige.

• Molo's Brainpower: Molo heavily invested its wealth into top-tier education. The district produced an extraordinary number of philosophers, national politicians, governors, and Supreme Court Chief Justices. This earned Molo the prestigious nickname "The Athens of the Philippines." 
• The Mud-Slinging: To poke fun at Molo's academic obsession, residents of Jaro jokingly called Molo the "City of Cats" (Molo-pusa), mocking them as loud and overly argumentative. In retaliation, Molo residents weaponized wordplay against Jaro, calling it the "City of Birds" (Jaro-pichon), implying the wealthy elites of Jaro were flighty, arrogant, and all show.

3. The Battle of the Cathedrals (All-Male vs. All-Female Saints)

Nowhere is this rivalry more vividly frozen in time than in the architecture of their grand churches, which were built to directly compete with one another.

• Molo Church (The Feminist Church): Built by Molo's elite, the gorgeous Gothic-Renaissance St. Anne Parish Church features exclusively female saints lining its central pillars. It stood as a monument to the intellectual and spiritual power of women in Molo.
• Jaro Cathedral (The Masculine Retaliation): Not to be outdone, Jaro constructed the Jaro Metropolitan Cathedral. In a direct, intentional counter-response to Molo's church, Jaro filled its interior pillars entirely with male saints. Furthermore, while Molo’s bell tower was built attached to its church, Jaro built a massive, totally detached bell tower across the street just to stand out. [1]

     [ THE ARCHITECTURAL RIVALRY ]
  
     MOLO CHURCH            JARO CATHEDRAL
  (St. Anne Parish)       (St. Elizabeth of Hungary)
  _________________       _________________

  |  All-Female   |  vs.  |   All-Male    |
  |    Saints     |       |    Saints     |
  |_______________|       |_______________|
  (Gothic Pillars)        (Detached Belfry)

4. The 1903 Power Grab and Forced Merger

The political rivalry peaked when the American colonial government stepped in.

• In 1903, under Act No. 719, the Americans stripped both Jaro and Molo of their independent town statuses. They forced them to merge into a single municipality alongside the business district of Iloilo. 
• This sparked fierce political infighting. The proud leaders of Jaro fiercely resisted being grouped under the same local government as Molo and Iloilo Proper. 
• Jaro's elite used their immense political leverage to fight back, successfully convincing the government to unmerge and restore Jaro as its own independent municipality by 1907. It even officially gained city hood on its own before the districts were ultimately consolidated permanently into modern Iloilo City decades later.

My Photo of the Day: My Zinnias are near full Bloom;