cebuscapes
A Quick Trip to Dalaguete
Arnold Carl F. Sancover explores the wonders of a wonderful town in the south of Cebu.
I woke up early in the morning for a quick trip down south in Dalaguete town with a group of dedicated individuals who were members of the Cebu Archdiocesan Commission for the Cultural Heritage of the Church. Our purpose was not for sightseeing but rather to give a seminar to some parishioners of the parish of San Guillermo el Hermitano about church patrimony and the importance of heritage conservation as well. The participants would later on be installed the following week by Bishop Julito Cortes, chairman of the Catholic Bishop’s Conference of the Philippines (CBCP) Episcopal Committee for Cultural Heritage of the Church, as the pioneering members of a parish-based heritage council which was organized through the efforts of the parish priest.
The trip that morning was not quite comfortable as I and a companion had to sit at the back of a pick-up truck since there were unexpectedly too many of us who joined the trip. There were only a few of us who were males so we volunteered to just sit at the open-air back portion and give the comfy seats to the females. Besides, it would be like an adventure relishing the countryside air for hours. It was also still early in the morning so the sun surely would not roast us yet.
Feeling the uneasiness of when our ordeal would end, my friend and I just spent our time talking about anything and everything until we finally arrived at our destination. The first item on our itinerary was breakfast at the centuries old rectory — or in Philippine colonial church terms, the convento — which was just beside the church. It would be my first time to step inside this building and the third time in the church itself. A grand staircase made of wood took us to a very spacious lobby-cum-hallway at the second floor lined with fully carved benches that look similar to those near the main entrance inside the Basilica Minore del Sto. Niño. Extant photos of colonial churches in the country show these type of benches lining the nave of a church, which was the practice during those times, in lieu of pews. According to accounts, the rich patrons of the parishes were given preference in using the benches during liturgical services thus they were nicknamed “Silla de Principalia.”
From the hallway we were led to a room with a huge rectangular dining table where a typical Filipino breakfast consisting of eggs, chorizo, stewed fish and corned beef awaited our very hungry stomachs. While feasting on the generous offerings of the rectory’s kitchen staff, I can’t help but notice the thick stone walls that the building was made of. Then there was the floor made of planks of hard wood. The large windows and the ceiling which was quite high enabled air to circulate thus flushing hot air out and letting the cool sea breeze in. It was kind of gloomy inside and I felt like I was transported back to the middle ages, particularly in a medieval castle and fortress along the seashore with the mountains of Mantalongon (Dalaguete) as the backdrop where soldiers were constantly on the lookout for unfriendly visitors from the southernmost corner of the Philippine archipelago. Somewhat true however, I recollected, since the southern part of Cebu was always under threat from Moro invaders which was why in the early 19th century, a dedicated warrior priest named Fray Julian Bermejo built a series of watchtowers that lined the southwestern coast of the island. From these watchtowers a primitive form of relaying a message from one watchtower to another was made whenever an invader was sighted. Church complexes were also fortified and Fr. Bermejo made the town of Boljoon the center of the defense network in the Visayas. In Dalaguete church itself, remnants of the base of a watchtower can be found near the shore though dated prior to Fr. Bermejo’s sojourn in Boljoon.
When all of us finished eating, one of my companions requested me to help him set up the equipment for the presentation to be conducted inside the church. On my way downstairs and into the church, I managed to take a peek at some parts of the rectory. I went inside this spacious hall where some church items were kept. At the corner of the room was something very familiar – a reed organ! Reed organs were portable keyboard musical instruments that was sometimes substituted for a pipe organ since they were cheaper and smaller. I’d only seen photos of it before in books but now here was one, just inches away from my touch. It was still intact but unplayable as termites had already eaten away some of its parts, though I guess it can still be repaired.
From this hall I went to the volada or the enclosed balcony that runs the entire length of the second level of the rectory, and then to another dark room until I passed through a small door to a very cramped passageway that led me to the choirloft of the church. The view of the interiors of the church from this vantage point was awesome. One could also appreciate better the painted ceilings depicting scenes from the bible, a masterpiece of Canuto Avila who also rendered some of the church ceilings in Bohol. Bordering the painted ceilings and the stone walls of the church are faux marble moldings done in the 1930s by Ray Francia whose signature can be seen near the windows at the choirloft. It still looks as fresh as though it was just written a few minutes before.
My friend signaled to me that the presentation below was about to start so I begged off from my adventurous instincts and finally went down to listen to the lectures. The speakers were Architect Melva Rodriguez-Java, a conservation architect who also holds a masters degree in Anthropology, who talked about church patrimony, then Fr. Brian Brigoli of the Cathedral Museum of Cebu who gave insights about the role of the church in the preservation of its cultural heritage, and Mr. Trizer Dale Mansueto, a historian and faculty member of the University of San Carlos, who talked about the history of the parish of Dalaguete and the church and convent of San Guillermo el Hermitano.
It was almost lunchtime when the presentation was over so we went up again to the rectory to eat lunch after which we packed up our equipment to prepare ourselves to go back to the city. My friend and I thought that we still had enough time so we asked permission from our companions to give us just a few minutes to explore the belfry.
The bell ringer opened the door to the belfry and as we went inside we were greeted with centuries-old dust and dirt, not to mention guano from the bats hanging above. The wooden stairs were very narrow and steep that climbing it required effort that would surely result in muscle cramps especially for first-timers like me. Halfway, I saw a pendulum hanging freely from a mechanical clock above. This clock, visible outside the church at the top of the belfry, is no longer working. As I reached the top I found out that the gears have already rusted away since it had been exposed to the elements without any protective casing.
There were around eight bells at the top, each named after a particular saint. Details like the year when it was cast, the weight, the manufacturer, and the parish priest who commissioned it are all inscribed in each bell. The oldest among them is dated 1805. The biggest bell, named after St. Augustine, hangs freely at the middle of the belfry while the rest of the smaller bells are positioned at the openings at the sides. Bells have played an important role in announcing the start of liturgical services, reminding the faithful of prayers at particular hours of devotion, and even serving as a warning to the citizens during calamities.
While I was busy shooting photos, my friend’s cellphone rang. I took it as a signal that we had to go down as our companions, eager to go home, were already waiting for us. The sky was kind of dark and it seemed like a very heavy downpour was on its way. Should we just ride a bus? I remembered that on this trip back home we would still have to sit at the back of the pick-up truck lest we separate ourselves from the group and hail an airconditioned Ceres Liner instead. It was no longer early in the morning and surely the highway already had its fill of smog and dust. “Never mind,” I said to myself. After all, I can always indulge in a good shower when I get home after which I would reminisce about this memorable trip to a lovely town down south.
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