an inkling of iloilo.

There’s more to it than just meets the eye. This true-blue Ilonggo tries imparting the indulgence with a modest introduction.

At first glance, Iloilo strikes you as an urban enigma – humdrum yet delightful, unassuming yet elegant. It has neither the frenetic hassle of the metropolis nor the rustic charm of a mountain village but somewhat borders in between, a seamless intermingling of both worlds. Even for a seasoned Ilonggo who has practically spent all his life in the city, exactly how to classify it or maybe just comprehend a few of its elusive mysteries would prove to be a challenge.

But there are no intricate complexities, surprisingly. Take a casual stroll down any of its time-honored streets and you’re sure to hear omnipresent tones of renowned Hiligaynon, ever melodic and languid as if bearing testament to the unhurried pace of living in this city and the gentle character of its people. You’ll find that literally speaking, buildings have stood their ground for quite sometime, and to further preserve this historical significance the city government has recently enacted a law declaring any edifice over fifty years of age to be a cultural heritage site.

And why not? History has always been the city’s claim to fame, taking precedence over anything else. It’s the reason for the crowds of tourists annually flocking to its grandiose churches credited with their own unique styles, to the vintage mansions and enthralling plazas that number a dime a dozen, to its spirited festivals, and to Museo Iloilo, a foremost historical and archaeological haven in the region. We’re talking here of the second oldest city in the country (after Cebu) and to this Iloilo boasts of almost five hundred years of peaceful existence, becoming evident once one discovers that some structures – Tigbauan Church for instance – indeed attest to having been around that long, most of them juxtaposed in differing and oftentimes contrasting shades of baroque Spanish, definitive American and native Filipino tastes.

Not that all of this has gone unnoticed though. One such Christian pantheon, the Miag-ao Church with its ornate limestone carvings, has been declared a UNESCO World Heritage Site; and similarly presenting themselves as one of their kind are the sister cathedrals of Molo and Jaro that lord over their respective well-known districts, the former a repository of all-female saints, the latter strictly of male ones and serving as the seat of the Archdiocese as well.

It’s sights like these that await you as you alight from your plane at the Mandurriao airfield (soon to be replaced by another of international standards), after you spot the gigantic billboards that dot many a corner in the horizon, SM’s humongous welcome sign, and the spires of St. Anne’s Church solemnly looming at a distance. But then again in this city, there’s no such thing as “distance” as everything comes into view for at most 20 minutes, and to speak of one hour would mean taking you far off deep into the hinterlands, provided there’s no traffic – one of the growing plagues the city pays as a price for progress.

True enough, progress it is for this thriving regional center that lately grabbed the distinction of being one of the model cities in the country. Undergoing a dramatic facelift over the years, I am a personal witness to how acres of swampy farmland were cleared into malls and plush subdivisions and dirt roads paved into concrete highways. Add in the increasingly energetic nightlife and favorable business potential and you have a city continually wooing the call of advancement, attracting curious investors with the alacrity of a preppie. From the row of painted balustrades lining Muelle Loney to the brand new bridge spanning Iloilo River, hip Smallville and the shiny, gleaming Provincial Capitol, there’s always room for pleasant surprises. All the more for one who is now pursuing further studies in the big city and who never fails to come home seeing and experiencing something new.

Nevertheless as with any other city, you’ll agree that the pride of Iloilo perhaps rests on its greatest assets: its people. Blessed with a genial countenance, amiable mien and traditional southern hospitality, its denizens possess remarkable frugality and an unusual love for industry that has catapulted the city to where it is now: sizzling, vibrant and always on the move.

A visit to any obscure neighborhood will eventually prove this. Amid the flurry of piña and sinamay weaving in Arevalo and of creating gastronomical concoctions in the form of the famous La Paz Batchoy, Pancit Molo, top of the range seafood and the all-time favorite treats of Biscocho Haus that have marked the city as a gustatory paradise, its four hundred thousand inhabitants still manage to retain their relatively busy yet stress-free lifestyle, most preferring to hie off after school or work to the cool interiors of the many malls sprouting one by one, or to the numerous clubs and coffee shops that have arisen in sync to the tune of modernization. A decade before when these things practically sounded alien to Ilonggo ears, it would mean an escape to the tranquil recesses of Fort San Pedro and nearby Rotary Park (which sadly is now on the verge of ruin) and to the endless stretch of beaches that line just about any seaside town, offering hopes of an alternative respite to any jaded, worn-out city bum fed up with the crowded sands of Boracay.

But to talk of Boracay, that’s explicitly another story. Guimaras, visible downtown and just a five-minute boat ride away, would also need another spotlight of its own. Still it’s no meager feat to say you’ve breathed enough of the Iloilo air to have had truly gotten the whole picture. Most probably, it’s just another mere glimpse into the daily workings of the former Queen City of the South, fast gaining ground with everyone doing everything possible to snatch the title back. And I daresay there’s no doubting it will. After all, it has produced great patriots like Martin Delgado who initiated the first anti-Spanish resistance in the Visayas, able politicians in the form of the late Vice President Fernando Lopez and Senate President Franklin Drilon, and world-class performers like violinist Gil Lopez Kabayao. It’s a city that will forever leave its taste in your mouth, long after you have washed it down with a glass of water and gone on to other journeys, a familiar sensation almost akin to déjà vu.

You won’t know it then. Well, at least not after you step out of your cozy alcove and drink in the warm afternoon sun, passing hordes of flourishing textile and hardware establishments, noting the easygoing demeanor of the people and occasionally rubbing elbows with some, in between bites of a tasty Ilonggo homemade delicacy, your ears abuzz with the incessant drone of passing jeepneys and motorcycles. At any point in your life some fond reminiscence of Ilonggo origin might randomly occur to you inside your mind, and you’d readily acknowledge that once you had been there, and that somehow you’ll gradually find your way back again.

Trust me – it won’t be long.