The Silence of Heritage: Why a Park Library is a Step Backward for Cavite City

In the rush toward "progress," it is easy to mistake a lot of movement for real achievement. The news of plan to move our city library to Samonte Park just meters away from a children’s playground is a textbook example of urban planning that prioritizes convenience over function. While a library in a park sounds might look good on a brochure, the reality on the ground in Cavite City tells a different story. It is a poor planning decision that threatens both the sanctity of study and the preservation of our soul.

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐃𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡 𝐨𝐟 𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧

A library’s primary function is to serve as a sanctuary for the mind. By placing it adjacent to a playground and a park who has very high activity, planners have ignored the fundamental requirement of a learning space: SILENCE. A park is a place for "active" recreation, while a library is for "passive" reflection. Without a significant buffer zone, the chaotic energy of the park bleeds into the reading rooms, rendering the library’s purpose ineffective.

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐋𝐨𝐬𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐎𝐩𝐞𝐧 𝐒𝐩𝐚𝐜𝐞

We all feel it. People are starving for open spaces. In a city as crowded as ours, every bit of green grass and open sky is a luxury we can't afford to lose. Filling our rare "urban lungs" with concrete structures even well-intentioned ones like a library suffocates the park. A park should remain a place to breathe, not a construction site for buildings or structures that belong elsewhere.

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐂𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐎𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐥 𝐋𝐨𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧

True progress is not always about building something new. Sometimes it is about honoring what we already have. The library belongs in its original home - the “quiet area” near the church. This site offers three things the park never can:

Atmospheric Silence: The original area near the church is more somber and quiet, providing the perfect acoustic environment for a house of books.

Historical Symbiosis: The original building holds historical value. When a library is housed in a heritage structure, it becomes more than a room full of books - it becomes a living museum. It teaches the youth to value their "yesterday’s treasures" rather than treating them as "today’s trash."

A Real Cultural Hub: Placing the library near the church and other heritage landmarks creates a "Culture District." This centralizes our history, faith, and education in one dignified corridor, rather than scattering them in mismatched locations.

𝐋𝐞𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐤 𝐛𝐞 𝐚 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐤. 𝐋𝐞𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲 𝐛𝐞 𝐚 𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐤.

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This is a summary article of the previous survey post in Lutong Cavite FB page from the community including reactions from local librarian, educators and citizens who are all in UNITY of opinion - protect our open park spaces and return our city library to its rightful, historic home. 𝐖𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐦𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐡𝐨𝐩𝐞𝐟𝐮𝐥 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐋𝐆𝐔 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐟𝐮𝐥𝐟𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐫𝐞-𝐨𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐨𝐟 𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐜𝐢𝐭𝐲 𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐧 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐮𝐧𝐢𝐭𝐲 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐬𝐮𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐮𝐫𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐧 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐞.

Tuyo Pasta con Juevos Salao

The tuyo used in this recipe is the product of Cavite State University Seco Lao Lao but one can also use bottled tuyo so it is more flavorful especially with the oil. 

Ingredients:

1 tablespoon oil

3 tablespoon butter

5 cloves garlic chopped

1/4 cup sun-dried tomatoes cubed (optional)

1/2 cup shredded tuyo 

1/8 cup pasta water

ground pepper to taste

450 grams spaghetti noodles cooked al dente

2 pieces salted egg, removed yolk and mash

Procedure:

Heat oil and butter in a pan over medium heat. Add garlic and cook until fragrant. Add sundried tomatoes, tuyo and mashed yolk of salted egg, cook for another 1 minute.

Add reserved pasta water. Let simmer, season with pepper.

Place the pasta and toss until well incorporated.

Remove from heat. Add mashed salted egg white on top.

Ink, Memory, and Language: Inside the Zine Sueños Esperanza Zine Project

Zine Sueños Esperanza is a critical record of Caviteño intangible linguistic heritage of Cavite City. These two dozen zine collection project which is this blog's brainchild chronicles the evolution of Chabacano Caviteño literature for several decades. Notably, this collection includes rare Spanish works from a forgotten Cavite-born poet whose legacy remained obscured until now. Meticulously curated, designed, and produced through two weeks of exhaustive, non-stop labor by yours truly, Zine Sueños Esperanza serves as a guardian of our collective memory.

The project premiered during Circle of Chabacano Dream’s very first major public event participation, following the CCD president’s decision to join the Día del Libro 2025 at Ayala Triangle to promote Chabacano Caviteño language.

For order message the publisher's FB Page :

Enriquez Publishing House

Written in Recovery: Creating 24 Children’s Books for Chabacano

When the idea of a Chabacano Corner in late quarter 2024 was first proposed, we spend days conceptualizing what will be the wall design and shelves with the letter that also took several behind the scenes story before finally getting approved and signed but we only had one book. But I cannot agree that the beautiful corner idea of the president will exist with just a single title. So even while I was newly recovering from a major operation, I worked from my sickbed despite my family’s constant scolding and my co-teammate Camille I am determined to create Chabacano children’s books that would at least fill the Chabacano corner. 

Six of the two dozen

From writing to design, the process was far from easy, especially while my stitches were still painful and being lost at times of Chabacano words while writing the books, but natapos ko naman ng maayos.

The original plan was to produce one dozen books, but it soon became clear that this was not enough. Sabi ko mukhang di mapupuno ang shelves so I pushed myself further and completed two dozen. Although the Chabacano corner itself did not materialize and remained only a recurring plan up to now, these books found life and purpose - they were used, displayed, and sold during Día del Libro and other booth events joined by our president for Circle of Chabacano Dreams.

For order message the publisher's FB Page : Enriquez Publishing House

Recipes That Speak: The Chabacano Language on the Caviteño Table

Ecos del Galeon is a Chabacano heritage cooking book in which all recipes are accompanied by Chabacano translations. This project was the president’s brainchild for the Terra Madre event last November and it proved to be a resounding success. We were able to sell several copies, including to foreign guests who became deeply interested whenever we began narrating Cavite City’s history, particularly the galleon trade and its profound influence on the city’s culture and cuisine.

The sustained interest was also made possible through the presence of Tita A, especially her son Cons, who has learned and embraced Chabacano cooking. Their deep familiarity with the dishes allowed us to engage audiences meaningfully and keep conversations alive around Caviteño heritage cuisine that some want to visit the city to taste more our Chabacano cooking. 

#ChabacanoHeritage Cuisines

Cavite City Christmas Trivia: From Higantes to Bangenge

The tradition of the Higante in Cavite City dates back to the Spanish colonial period. As early as 1896, giant papier-mâché figures were already part of the procession during the feast of the Mahal na Birhen ng Soledad, making Higante the original and historically rooted name of this beloved Christmas figure.

By the late 1940s to 1950s, Higantes became a major highlight of barrio celebrations, especially in San Rafael, Gangley, created by groups such as the Tagarinas Athletic Club. Some figures were modeled after real-life personalities like Hitler and Hirohito (later altered to show their defeat), while others copied popular comic characters such as Pamboy, Talimusak, Popeye, and Olive.

It was also called later on by the name “Bondying” which came from a famous Filipino komiks character created in the early 1950s by Mars Ravelo, a celebrated writer from Tanza, Cavite. Bondying portrayed a small boy in an oversized adult body—an image that matched the playful and exaggerated look of the dancing figures, which is why many began using the name Bondying for the Higantes.

The term “Bangenge” developed later with a different pop culture root. In the early 1970s, Bangenge was a Filipino komiks character portrayed as a bruha or witch-like figure known for speaking with the vowel “E” instead of other vowels. Children began imitating this character by creating simple homemade figures using a tiklis or tall cabbage stalk for the body, a small box for the head, wrapped in white paper, and decorated with shredded abaca sacks for hair. Because it was easy and inexpensive to make, many children copied it. Soon, even when the figures no longer resembled the original character, they were still called Bangenge.

By the 1980s, the way the Higantes danced - parang lasing, pasuray-suray, or bangag - further strengthened the street association with the name Bangenge.

✨ From Higante to Bondying to Bangenge, the name may change with every generation but the tradition remains a living and treasured symbol of Cavite City’s Christmas spirit.

TRIVIA c/o: Bert Santos and Leonida Santiago 

Tumba: The Forgotten All Souls’ Tradition of Cavite City

Long before Halloween costumes and plastic pumpkins reached the Philippines, the people of Cavite City had their own way of welcoming the spirits of the departed - a unique tradition known as Tumba.

The word Tumba is believed to be related to the English word tomb, meaning grave or nitso. The tradition took place a few hours after Todos Los Santos (All Saints’ Day), when families had returned home from perya. By midnight or shortly after, while most residents were fast asleep, groups of mischievous yet spirited young Caviteños would quietly enter the narrow alleys of their neighborhoods, looking for items to “borrow” for what would become a Tumba.

The first target was almost always a kariton (wooden cart). Into this cart, they would load whatever household items they could find outside flower pots (paso), chairs (silya), basins (batya), stools, tables, and even laundry still hanging on the line (sinampay). Entering houses was strictly off-limits, but that didn’t stop them from including clotheslines and garments, sometimes even underwears!

The borrowed objects were wheeled to a nearby street intersection, where they were arranged in a peculiar display. In Barrio San Jose, for instance, the youth would build these makeshift shrines at crossroads like Castelar–Plaridel, Inocencio–Plaridel, or Dra. Salamanca–Plaridel.

By dawn, these corners were transformed into whimsical public exhibits. Carts piled high with pots, chairs, basins, and hanging laundry fluttering in the early morning breeze. According to the elders, these were not just pranks but symbolic gestures. The rearranged household items represented the souls visiting homes at midnight. The Tumba served as a playful yet sacred reminder that the spirits had passed through the neighborhood.

Come morning, curious onlookers would gather around the Tumba sites, laughing and pointing out which household items belonged to whom. Gradually, the rightful owners would retrieve their things all except, of course, the underwears, which were left untouched and unclaimed. It was a scene of humor, mischief, and community bonding, wrapped in the spirit of remembrance.

This lighthearted ritual reflected a deep cultural belief: that the dead return to visit the living during All Souls’ Day and that the living, in turn, acknowledged their presence through a blend of faith and fun. The Tumba, in its own way, bridged the worlds of the living and the departed, turning fear into laughter and solemnity into creativity.

Sadly, by the 1970s, the tradition began to fade. With the formal establishment of Barangays and the presence of barangay tanods (village watchmen) patrolling the streets at dawn, young people could no longer freely carry out their midnight adventures. The Tumba was gradually replaced by the imported practice of Halloween - costumes, parties, and store-bought decorations taking the place of neighborhood pranks and communal folklore.

Today, few Caviteños remember the Tumba. But for those who lived through it, it remains a cherished memory - a time when the city’s youth celebrated All Souls’ Day not with fear, but with laughter, friendship, and faith.

So if you’ve never heard of the Tumba, ask your parents or grandparents. They might recall those nights when flower pots, carts, and chairs mysteriously gathered at the street corners playful tributes to the souls that once walked among the living.

Because sometimes, remembering the ways we used to honor our dead reminds us of who we truly are - a people who found light, humor, and community even in the presence of the departed.

#CaviteCityTrivia #LutongCavite