2008-01-15

Rizal and his shoes


"His poem [Ultimo Adios], undated and believed to be written on the day before his execution, was hidden in an alcohol stove and later handed to his family with his few remaining possessions, including the final letters and his last bequests. Within hearing of the Spanish guards he reminded his sisters in English, "There is something inside it," referring to the alcohol stove given by the Pardo de Taveras which was to be returned after his execution, thereby emphasizing the importance of the poem. This instruction was followed by another, "Look in my shoes," in which another item was secreted.

Exhumation of his remains in August, 1898, under American rule, revealed he had been uncoffined, his burial not on sanctified ground granted the 'confessed' faithful, and whatever was in his shoes had disintegrated." - Lineage, Life and Labors of José Rizal, Philippine Patriot by Austin Craig

_________


"Naalala ko pa noon kasalukuyang kaming nakasakay sa bangka nang humulagpos ang isa kong tsinelas. Ang tsinelas ay ang gamit namin sa pagpasok at pagpunta sa mga lakaran kung saan ang bakya na gawa sa kahoy ay hindi nararapat. Mabilis itong inanod sa tubig bago ko nahabol para kunin. Malungkot ako dahil iniisip ko ang aking ina na magagalit dahil sa pagkawala ng aking tsinelas. Tiningnan ako ng nagsasagwan nang kinuha ko ang aking isa pang tsinelas at dali dali kong itinapon sa dagat, kasama ang dasal na mahabol nito ang kapares na tsinelas. "Bakit mo itinapon ang iyong isa pang tsinelas?" tanong sa akin ng kasamahan ko sa bangka.

"Isang tsinelas ang nawala sa akin at walang silbi sa makakakita. Ang isang tsinelas na nasa akin ay wala ring silbi sa akin. Kung sino man ang makakuha ng pares ng tsinelas ay magagamit niya ito sa kaniyang paglakad.

Napatingin ulit sa akin ang mama. Marahil naunawaan niya ang isang batang katulad ko." - From an Anecdote about the boy Jose Rizal

_________


"Q-Do you know Antonio Salazar?A-I know some one with the surname Salazar, who is the owner of Bazaar "Cisne", where I have my shoes made-to-order. I do not know him personally, nor if his name is Antonio. " - From the Transcipt of Rizal's Trial

Of course we now know that "Bazar El Cisne", located at the corner of what are now Carriedo and Rizal Avenue housed a Katipunan-funded printing press. It was set-up by Katipuneros from Kalibo and Capiz, Candido Iban and Francisco del Castillo, who paid for the small printing press with their winnings from a lottery. The press was later moved to Andres Bonifacio's house in Oroquieta Street near Zurbaran and nobody knew what happened to that press after that. The Bazaar's owner, Antonio Salazar on the other hand, is now remembered in Philippine history as one of the “Thirteen Martyrs of Bagumbayan.”


Was it just coincidence that of all places, Jose Rizal chose to have his shoes made at a secret Katipunan headquarters?









Jose Rizal's last path! Originally uploaded by AdamYJ

_________


And of course, here we see yet another of Rizal's
not-so-subliminal reference to shoes.
what kind of shoes are those? Why the hairy legs?
whose legs are those?



Bicol's "Grass" Slippers (Tsinelas na Abaca)

"Mamay thought hard and long about how tho augment our family income to meet our growing expenses. Tlhen one day while she was supervision our palay harvest, she thought of making abaca products.

She first wove and seved abaca slippers for her children. She sent the first crude ones to my brothers in Naga. Then she made abaca hand-bags, wallets, and belts. She experimented with the different dyes and designs and never seemed to be satisfied with waht she had made. Soon her products became objects of beauty and she began to sell them.

Then almost overnight, our house, which was quite big, became an abaca handicraft factory. Our porch became the workshop of Iluminado Fetil, a shoemaker who had worked for years at the Ang Tibay footwear factory, which made the best shoes and slippers many of them custom-built for discriminating buyers. Our sala and dining rooms were crammed full of handlooms and other equepment for weaving. One bedroom became the sewing department. Our kitchen was more oftern used for dying and drying for abaca fibers than for cooking food."

an excerpt from

A BOIENEN INVENTOR
(A history of Bicol's Tsinelas na Abaca)
by Concepcion Claveria-Bulalacao
















Image Originally Uploaded by Malou C.

The last "Limpya-botas"

"I always get my shoes shined in the Manila Airport before I leave," Dr. Ta Lin Hsu told the Makati Business Club recently, "and the one who shines my shoes has a bachelor’s degree."

Mr. Hsu, the Taiwanese chairman and founder of venture capital firm H&Q Asia Pacific, told his hosts that this "is sort of the saddest story that he has such a high-level of education, and yet the country cannot afford to give him a good job." - Boo Chanco, "College-Educated shoe-shine boy Saddens Investor"


Photograph Originally Uploaded by Dennis Villegas

They used to shine-shoes for a living



"Chief Justice Panganiban graduated with honors from Juan Luna Elementary School and Mapa High School, which are both public schools. To support his studies, he hawked newspapers, peddled cigarettes and shined shoes in the streets of Sampaloc in Manila. During his college days, he sold textbooks to his classmates and bibles to his professors and university officials. The youngest of four children, he was born from impoverished parents who died while he was still in school." - http://www.supremecourt.gov.ph/


Chief Justice Panganiban is one of the few prominent personalities who have similar humble beginnings - working as a "shoe-shine boy". The list include Victorio Soliven who owns the big real estate firm V.V.Soliven, Senator Richard Gordon and business Tycoon, Ambassador Antonio L. Cabangon Chua.


Sinelas, Tsinelas, o Chinelas?


sinelas
Originally uploaded by
joeypip
"What is this tsinelas, you ask? Well, they’re an indispensable part of Filipino culture. They’re basically Havaianas–rubber thong sandals (or slippers, as they’re called here)–except without the hisbiscus flowers and the exhorbitant price. Everyone who’s a Filipino has to have worn them at least once (before the Havaianas craze). When I was a kid wreaking havoc on the streets on my bike, I did it in my tsinelas. And so did my other childhood playmates. Nobody wore sneakers or anything; we just ran around and played our games in tsinelas. What’s incredibly interesting about this whole slipper fad is that two years ago, if you decided to wear tsinelas to a school like Ateneo, people would look down on you or think you were poor or something. Tsinelas are so cheap, even palengkeras and (most) street beggars can afford to wear them. Hell, before the tricycle ban in Katipunan, my school imposed a dress code on the tricycle drivers that could go in Ateneo, and one of the no-nos was–you guessed it–wearing of slippers. (So much for being “men and women for others”) Now everyone’s all “look at me, I’m so cool in my 900-peso flip-flops.” - from Lauraganism.com, "The Evolution of the Flip-flops"

Marikina Shoe Expo, Cubao


marikina
Originally uploaded by
silverakshi
"Back when Cubao was a thriving shopping center during the late 70's and early 80's, Marikina Shoe Expo was a haven for good sturdy shoes. I remember the brand Gregg's which was known for making quality and affordable shoes. Now, it is a new place for artists and vintage stuff that surely is still worth coming for."

"...not content with the success of the shoe fair, many of the stallholders, led by Florinio de la Paz would occupy the New Marikina Shoe Fair on Tuason Avenue. It was initially a success. But it did not last long. After their negotiation for a lease purchase of the building with Filinvest fell through, the stallholders withdrew and joined the exodus to Cubao. One group led by Geronimo Santos (Jerome Shoes) opened the Marikina Shoe House on Aurora Blvd. in 1969. It closed down soon after it was destroyed by fire. Another group led by Pacifico Enriquez, opened Marikina Shoe Expo, across the street from Rustan's Cubao. " - Shoe History of Marikina

2008-01-14

Syvel's, Escolta


syvel's escolta
Originally uploaded by
mocortez61

"masarap mamili ng gamit dyan... sapatos, damit... lahat-lahat... madalas kaming pumunta nun sa fairmart, fair center, plaza fair, isetann at sm sa sta. cruz na carriedo na ngayon at ang sikat na syvels sa escolta..' - Rodem

"my fond memories of escolta consisted of me and my girlfriends walking (yes walking) from mendiola to escolta to buy shoes from syvels. along the way, we take several stops to browse at shops along recto and avenida, but we always ended up buying at syvel's."
- Photo Cache

Pre-War Escolta


escolta
Originally uploaded by
brownpau
"You know, I like those things, so I would work doubly hard so that I will have enough money to buy me a pair of Florsheim shoes at the Escolta...kung hindi man, at least sa Besa's" - Jing Villareal's interview with Christian Espiritu


"After the war, when Makati was perhaps only a glimmer of an idea in the mind of Col. Joseph McMicking, there was the Escolta and Avenida Rizal. This was where you went to buy your shoes of "charol" [patent leather] or plain leather and the other items needed for school. " - Bambi Harper, The Original Soda Fountain, 2005

"The teams had their uniforms and they were using local made shoes, the soles are made of car tires and the top covered by canvas that were sold at the Escolta. The trade mark was Bata. Chito Calvo coach of the 1936 5th place team in the Berlin Olympic was doing business." - Lt. Col. Julian Malonso, P.A. NCCA History

The Bakya


bakya mo neneng
Originally uploaded by
laz'andre

"Fashioned from light wood initially with the use of the bandsaw, bakya was afterwards smoothly shaved, and carved with floral, geometric or landscape design, then painted or varnished to a high sheen in the distinctive Paete style. Uppers made of clear plastic or thin rubber were then fastened to the sides with tiny nails ("clavitos") and the bakya was ready for export.

In its heyday (1930s to 1950s), American tourists and soldiers bought bakya as souvenirs for their girlfriends and mothers. But for Filipinos, bakya was the footwear for all seasons. You wore them in water or on land. Bakya was easy to get in and out of, which made it convenient for use by people who wore them on the ground but took them off when climbing upstairs into their houses. My mother, Laureana Cajipe, used to say that you could tell how well-mannered a person was by the way he left behind his bakya before entering the house, "Kabastusan yung iiwanan mo ang bakya mo na nakahakbang!"

When I was growing up in the early 50s, bakya shops were veritable channels of Paete culture where apprentices were trained, families worked closely together, traditional songs and poems were passed on to the young, friendships were forged and romances blossomed. Bakya was Paete's rice-and-fish. The industry that fed, clothed, and sheltered us also taught us responsibility and gave us wisdom. It nurtured our dreams and led us to believe that we would grow up to become good people, just like our parents. And Paete prospered.

- from Marie Cagahastian Pruden's "Romancing the Bakya"

Marikina Valley

"Marikina used to be an agricultural town. While the old folks had so much to do in the rice field and vegetable farms, majority of middle-aged and the young would readily find themselves busy and enjoying a century-old shoe making industry. It was almost a common sight to see families working together under their respective thatched roofs from early dawn to late evening busy attending to their handcrafted pairs of shoes.

Obviously, because of the nature of this cottage industry, families grew to be well-knit and clannish. Popular education, however, was limited to the "Katon Kristiyano" and to the primary and elementary grades available in a few barrio schools. A few affluent families would easily send their children to high school and college in Manila while those who had hardly enough would still need a lot a time and money to leave shoe making and take trips to and from Rizal. It was natural that a good number of boys and girls missed their secondary and tertiary schooling."

- excerpt from Roosevelt College History

Gandara (Padilla) - Ongpin intersection

Gandara in Binondo used to be the "shoe capital" of pre-war Philippines. The Marikina shoe industry was just starting then and most of their finished products were bought and traded here. Chinese-owned Shoe and shoe-supply stores used to line both sides of the street and people flocked there to get themselves a bargain pair of shoes, for shoes were quite expensive at the premier shopping spot at that time which was Escolta.

Gandara - the place remains, but the shoe-shops have long been gone. Now, very few of us from the younger generation know this place's storied past as far as the country's shoe-history is concerned.

ELPO Building

The building is now home to a bank, and ELPO sneakers have long been eclipsed by global shoe-brands. Ask your parents or grandparents what rubber shoes they wore when they were young and they'd more likely say ELPO.




ELPO Building (2005)
Originally uploaded by
mrbinondo

2008-01-13

What was the "shoe" of your Generation?

We take shoes for granted. But what most don’t realize is that shoes have always been there throughout history - in the most significant moments of our country’s history, from the absence of shoes in pre-colonial Philippine society, to the change of that society upon the arrival of the shoe-clad Spanish colonizers who labeled our barefooted forefathers “uncivilized” indios.

Shoes or footwear have inspired early artists, musicians and poets, that’s why our music, poems and folklore are riddled with reference to the lowly “bakya”, “tsinelas” and “sapatos”. In time, shoes have subliminally become an instrument for labeling and separating people in our society according to their economic class, social status and even differing ideologies. The “bakya” for example is now used to label individuals of low cultural taste and social status. The “tsinelas” have for a time been used to categorize the “aktibista”. I remember when I was in elementary school you will not be part of the “in” group if you don’t sport “Sperry” topsiders and later on “blah-blah” shoes. Then in high school, it was black “stick-out-flap” Reeboks that makes you part of the “barkada”. Come to think of it, if you look at pictures and statues of Rizal and Bonifacio, you will notice that Rizal always wears his European shoes and Bonifacio, the plebian, is almost always portrayed barefoot...well, except for the statue in Tutuban of course.

Today, the shoes we wear not only project our personality and our beliefs, it also unjustly brands and labels us the way we discriminately use it to unjustly label others as well. It is really ironic how shoes, in a way have symbolized both the Filipino’s fight for a national identity and the loss of it. This was why I made a documentary about it before, and is why I am doing this web log now.

So I ask you…what was the shoe of your generation?



Earliest Accounts of Shoes in the Philippines

“The dress which these natives of Luzon wore before the advent of the Spaniards in the land, consisted of the following: for the men, clothes made of cangan fabric without collar, sewn in front with short sleeves extending down to beyond the waist, some blue and some black, while the headmen used red ones which they called chininas and a colored blanket wrapped around the waist and between the legs, in order to cover their private parts. In the middle of the waist they wore the bahague, the legs being bare and the feet also bare. The men and women go out without any outer garments and barefooted, but well adorned with gold chains and engraved earrings and bracelets.

After the Spaniards came to the land, many native men ceased to wear gee-strings and instead they wore baloon-trousers made out of the same blanket and clothes, also hats on their heads...and many of them wear shoes. Likewise, the principal women were curiously shod and many of them wear velvet shoes with gold trimmings, also white sheets as undershirts.”

Antonio de Morga, Sucesos de las islas Filipinas, 1609



"The women wear a kind of little shift, which scarcely reaches to the navel, with a handkerchief loosely covering the neck, a white linen cloth encircles the, body, and is fastened by a button at the waist: they throw over this a coloured stuff manufactured by the inhabitants of Panay. Over all is worn a mantle, for the most part black, which covers the body from head to foot. Their hair, which is black and highly beautiful, sometimes reaches to the ground: they bestow the greatest care on it, anoint it with cocoa-nut oil, plait it in the Chinese fashion, and, towards the crown of the head, form it into a knot, fastened with a gold or silver pin. They wear embroidered slippers, so very small that they only cover the toes. "

Pierre Sonnerat, Voyage aux Indes orientales et à la Chine, 1774-1781



"..her slippers (Ines Cannoyan) embroidered with gold, her wedding ring capped on with pearlstone, her five combs, and her two bracelets. Brave Lam-ang put on his laced trousers, embroidered camisa, kerchief with sambiri, embroidered slippers, and his hat."

Pedro Bucaneg, "Biag ti Lam-Ang" Ilocano Epic 17th Century (some studies even suggest a pre-colonial origin)