Feeling at Home: Candelaria, Quezon

* the Welcome arch[?] of Candelaria, Quezon

* aboard the grand old Supreme Bus that ply the roads connecting Lucena, Quezon and Batangas City, taken at Candelaria en route to San Juan, Batangas

It is indeed a feeling of being thoroughly at home in Candelaria, Quezon mainly because of my surname: Emralino. I can still remember my fourth grade when the name David Emralino was the meat of the news. I also remember having a peek into what used to be called Emralino-something-Coliseum. I don’t know if it still exists today since I can no longer find it on the right side of the highway going to Candelaria.

* a cute little house along the highway entering the town proper of Candelaria, Quezon

* an old house painted gaily with pink!

* found just before entering the town proper, half-tailor shop

Although this is but a full-blown wild guess, the Emralinos of Candelaria and Sariaya might provably be related. I have seen some during a feature of one of the mansions in Sariaya which is own by Emralinos. At least I am clear at this point that I am in no way wishing that I am connected with these people (but it would be certainly good to know if I am). But pedigree is important in one way or another. The only consolation for me as of today is the knowledge that I have a not-so-distant relative that has fought in Bataan during World War II. Beyond that, I know naught. And so any Emralinos out there, I would just like to meet and greet you. Now back to the tours.

* the church of San Pedro Bautista

* a view of the interior of the church

Just recently, the news came nationwide that David Emralino was killed inside the St. Peter the Baptist Church. Too bad that I was not able to visit the exact place where he fell, as I totally forgot the details in the news. It is only this time that I recall the scenario prior to the ‘kill’. Anyway, this is where an Emralino met his demise. The church is relatively new I suppose, judging from its looks. But the entrance-gate a few meters away from it was certainly old. Too bad I was not able to take a picture of it as banners cover most of the details of the structure.

* now here is my love, a big, old house just before reaching the municipal hall

* a view of the back of the house showing its immense size, can I call this mine? just kidding, rather can I call this one mansion already?, can’t say I can now

Since light was fading fast during my visit (a bad time for a visit, don’t you think?) I only contented myself in lounging around the grand old house which sparked my affinity for old casas, old casas of the Spanish and post-Spanish era that is. If I could only describe at least in a few words my awe of the place. Was it the size that overwhelmed me? I don’t know. Perhaps. I remember running my hands through its massive doors a few years back. Man, I shall a house of that kind. That is a resolve.

* a Candelaria backstage, leaders of the town who will be elected this May 10 should tackled this problem

As a side note, I decided to put the photo above, not for the intent of putting down this otherwise beautiful town. A book on Ché Guevara about his travels during his youth tells of that dawning on him where he saw that one should not only look at the beautiful places or spots in a place that one visit. Instead, one should look at the totality of the place, its features and people, to get to know more of the place. I’m afraid I don’t have any notes from the book to support these lines but this paraphrase is, more or less, the thought of what was said of Ché in the book.

(Post-Thought: I am thinking of making a little note about these Supreme Buses.)