Many lamented the destruction of the iconic building housing the Manila Central Post Office when it was razed to the ground after a car battery exploded in one of its storage rooms a few weeks ago.
The huge blaze was put out after 30 hours and the damage was estimated at P300 million. The incident also broke the hearts of countless employees who had worked most of their professional lives in the building.
But after the usual outcry, the many columns, editorials, and a flurry of outrage on social media, the usual cries for “an investigation,” as in most cases, the issue appears to have died down, buried under an avalanche of political bickering, the brouhaha about quarrels between popular noontime television show hosts and their former partners, and the latest round of fuel and food price increases.
So how serious really are we as a people in preserving our cultural heritage?
The list of old landmarks and buildings that have been obliterated by way of wrecking balls, natural disasters, alleged acts of arson, sheer negligence, or lack of appreciation for history or the past continues to grow.
In Manila alone, where the Post Office built in 1926 once stood, rising proudly after it was heavily damaged during the horrific Battle of Manila in World War II between American and Japanese forces, several buildings or homes that we often referenced as links to the past, or had evoked childhood memories and a fascination for nostalgia can no longer be found, restored, or visited.
Think of the Paco Railway Station built in the first two decades of American rule, with its huge clock hands frozen in time; the Jai-Alai building on Taft Avenue where fortunes were found or lost; the cinema palaces with impressive lobbies on the Escolta and Rizal Avenue; the beautiful homes in Binondo and Tondo where once lived national heroes, freedom fighters, writers and poets before these were converted into dirty warehouses, crumbling apartments, and food stalls; the Manila Grand Opera House, site of the newly inaugurated 1907 first Philippine Assembly, and later a venue for stage shows and post-war musical extravaganzas. The list goes on and on.
Why preserve these buildings in the first place?
Because these old structures provide us with a link to the past, a sense of place and continuity, a connection with our cultural heritage, and a legacy for future generations. These are sources of pride and testimony as to how we evolved as a nation.
Apart from being made of more durable (and often not readily obtained now, if not no longer available) materials crafted by artisans of exceptional workmanship, they made for visually attractive works of art that appealed not only to local but international visitors or they could have been easily transformed into adapted use venues for vintage markets and office spaces with an Old-World appeal.
Although not all seems lost — look at the heritage cities and towns of Vigan, Ilocos Sur; Silay and Bacolod in Negros Occidental; Iloilo City’s and Taal’s carefully preserved homes of old — the few owners who do not demolish these old buildings or their new tenants would rather renovate than restore, perhaps thinking that new buildings are more attractive or better investments than old ones, thus effacing not only architectural integrity but one’s original roots, so to speak.
We continue to forge on in this relentless path of destroying or not revering mementos or souvenirs of the past, choosing instead skyscrapers, huge malls, and fast food outlets, reclaiming what once was pristine and marine-rich waters and turning it into man-made land for more towering and not environmentally friendly structures.
When will we ever learn?