Connections
I have filled many columns on the historical significance behind street names in Metro Manila. These columns often lament thoughtless changes in old street names that have been “sanctified by usage.” Many of the historic names in Intramuros should be restored; for example, “Andres Soriano” should be returned to “Aduana,” which references the Spanish-era Customs House. In Binondo, Quintin Paredes should be restored to “Rosario” for how can any politician, no matter how significant, replace the Virgen del Santisimo Rosario or the Virgin of the Holy Rosary? I remembered all these former columns as I walked aimlessly on the streets of Manila, finding Philippine connections in Madrid street names.
When traveling, I make it a point to visit the local market (for fresh produce) and the flea market (for antiques, books, and curiosities). Markets are a mirror of a people and culture; they tell you what they eat, and how their geography formed not just their palate but also their nationality. Forty years ago, on a Goethe-Institut grant to study basic German, I was consigned to Staufen im Breisgau, a small, sleepy town in the Black Forest area. Staufen’s claim to fame is its white wine and a house where the devil took the soul of Faust. In my second week in class, my teacher asked why my vocabulary was better than my classmates’. I built mine in the grocery by connecting vegetables, fruits, fish, and meat with their German names. This is the same method I used on my recent trip to Madrid.
Weather permitting, I like walking aimlessly around town to know how to return to my hotel, get a sense of place, or get my bearings. In most Western cities, streets are laid out in grids, with street numbers giving you a sense of order and direction. In Tokyo, I noticed that streets are laid out differently, like circles, such that when lost, just keep walking, and you may just end up where you started. In historic cities like Rome and the Vatican, churches, buildings, and monuments keep me walking. Encountering a landmark I only knew from pictures, like the Trevi fountain, is like meeting an old friend. Often I would see a historic structure and exclaim: “Uy! andito ka lang pala (Hey! I didn’t know you were here.)”
Walking in Madrid means looking up at the sights rather than the streets. This can be unfortunate because there is a lot of dog poop to step on and bring home. Each building is different in color and ornamentation. You can have sleek modern structures in steel and glass, or those with wrought-iron grills and facades decorated in the baroque, renaissance, art nouveau, and art deco styles. I never imagined humanities class would come in handy one day. In a row of apartments, I saw one whose doorway was dated 1672!
As a Filipino historian, I often see Philippine connections in the street names of Madrid. Avenida de las Islas Filipinas in the Chamberi district, Calle Jose Rizal (formerly Calle de el Algabeño) in the Hortaleza District, and Voluntarios Macabebes in the Arganzuela district are self-explanatory. Others need more historical connections. Walking from the famous Rastro Flea Market with the curator Guillermo Paneque, bells rang when I saw the street name Ceferino Gonzalez (1831 to 1894), who, long before he was appointed Cardinal, was ordained in the Philippines. He studied and taught at the University of Santo Tomas. Then there are street names that are twins, being found in Madrid and Manila. United Nations Avenue in Manila used to be known as Isaac Peral (1851 to 1895). Isaac Peral Street in Madrid’s Moncloa district honors the Spanish naval officer who designed a submarine.
We have Elcano streets both in San Nicolas, Manila and the Arganzuela district in Madrid. Juan Sebastian Elcano (1476 to 1526) is considered by the Spaniards as the first circumnavigator of the world, not Magellan, who died in Mactan and wasn’t able to complete the voyage back to Spain. The Spanish form of Magellan is Magallanes (1480 to 1521). The Philippines has a municipality in Cavite named Magallanes, a Magallanes Street in Manila, and a Makati gated community called Magallanes Village. Calle Magallanes in Madrid is in the Chamberi district. We have a Legazpi Street and Legazpi Village in Makati, while Madrid has a Plaza Legazpi in the Arguenzuela district. This honors Miguel Lopez de Legazpi (1502 to 1572), the first Spanish governor general of the Philippines.
One of the old exports from the Philippines was Manila hemp, or abaca, which was used for rope. Paper from Manila hemp was made into envelopes, which used to be known and spelled as Manila Envelopes. My niece asked me about the colorful “Manila scarf” that she saw in Madrid. I didn’t get her at first until I remembered the “Manton de Manila,” the large silk shawls with embroidered flowers that were transported from China through Manila and the Manila Galleons to Mexico and onward to Spain. If I stay in Spain longer, I’m sure I will find more Philippine connections even without trying. So many historical references are open to those who did not sleep through Araling Panlipunan.
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Comments are welcome at ambeth.ocampo@inquirer.net
Ambeth is a Public Historian whose research covers 19th century Philippines: its art, culture, and the people who figure in the birth of the nation. Professor and former Chair, Department of History, Ateneo de Manila University, he writes a widely-read editorial page column for the Philippine Daily Inquirer, and has published over 30 books—the most recent being: Martial Law: Looking Back 15 (Anvil, 2021) and Yaman: History and Heritage in Philippine Money (Bangko Sentral ng Pilipinas, 2021).



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