The 10 People You Need to Meet in Quiapo

(SPOT.ph) Quiapo is a place replete with contradictions. Any mention of its name brings to mind images of extravagant religious festivities but also images of pickpockets and sketchy alleyways. We look at Quiapo church, the district's beating heart, teaching its devotees to put all trust in Christ—but just outside the basilica's walls are vendors with their black candles, pampa-regla, and "all-in-one" charms that promise love, money, travel, and pangontra. Sa kulam? Sa malas? As if to say if the Guy with the Cross inside fails, hope can be found too in this bustling square called Plaza Miranda. It's these contradictions that make Quiapo the exuberant center that it is, contradictions supplied by its people.

If you want to see the real face of Manila, you will find it here. People toiling under the sun. Devotees praying for a miracle. Men of the cloth. Cultural advocates pushing for the preservation of the district's heritage. Film stock sellers. Ham purveyors. Second generation hopia makers and restaurant owners. Typewriter repairmen. Interfaith workers. And yes, charm sellers, fortunetellers, and potion vendors. The true spirit of Quiapo is found in its almost 30,000 residents and the thousands of dayo that come here to carve out a life. They define and defy what it means to be a living, breathing extension of Quiapo. 

And now we introduce 10 of them to you.

Annabel Hatol: A tour guide with a cause

Quiapo is so much more than the home of the Black Nazarene—just take it from Annabel Hatol, a local tour guide whose mission is to show there is culture beneath the chaos. She was in her late 40s when she was tapped to become a tour guide for Bukas Quiapo, a guided tour designed for the community as well as for visitors. From the Excelente Ham to Quinta Market to San Sebastian Basilica, no one knows the ins and outs of Quiapo like Hatol (to master Quiapo she tells us, one must first master the ins and exits of the underpass). And she is now training her daughter to follow in her footsteps, to promote local tourism for the future generation.

Alma: A candle seller for four decades

Need to say a prayer for the dead, or a wish for good fortune? Meet Alma. You can find her among the vendors in Plaza Miranda. She has been selling candles for 40 years. Every now and then, she would light up a candle wick—not just to lure potential buyers in her direction, but to wish herself luck for the rest of the day. If she can’t catch them by sight, she can try by smell. Her stall is a family business, passed on to her from relatives in Fabella. She says each candle variant amongst her wares represents a specific desire: black for peace of mind, a wishing candle for good luck. Alma says the best thing about Quiapo today is that she can make a living in peace without fear of policemen giving them a hard time. She doesn't ask for much, just enough to get her through the day. “Basta masipag ka lang, magsikap ka lang," she says simply, "magiging okay naman.”

Maria Santos-Viola: The custodian of Bahay-Nakpil

Maria Santos-Viola has been managing the operations and preservation of the Bahay Nakpil-Bautista, one of Quiapo's old heritage houses that has since become a museum. Did we mention she also happens to be a direct descendant of the original owners, too? Ma'am Bobbi is the granddaughter of Gregoria De Jesus and Julio Nakpil. For her, the fight to preserve the heritage of Bahay Nakpil-Bautista is a personal cause. Where her famous grandparents fought for the Philippines' future, Santos-Viola is fighting hard to preserve what is left of the past. 

Gerald dela Cruz: One of the last typewriter repairmen

Gerald dela Cruz was born and raised in Commandante, the tiny side street near Evangelista where his typewriter repair shop stands. The 45-year-old started out as a helper in an old shop back in 1995 and is now one of the last few people in Quiapo you can run to if you need someone who knows the ins and outs of the old writing machine. He credits his skills, and his love for typewriters, for having given him and his family a livelihood. If you don't have time to head to his shop, you can also check out his Instagram page, where he posts the units he's restoring and/or selling—all trademarked by a typewriter similar to the tattoo on his arm, an ink rendering of his favorite Corona.

Mary Anne Castillos: A seller with unique wares

Mary Anne Castillos is a former housemaid whose mother-in-law got her into selling herbs in Quiapo. She was promised better returns and liked the idea of being her own boss. It's also a bonus that she's stationed in such close proximity to the Quiapo Church; she can just walk into the basilica and pray at any given time of the day. Twenty-seven years later and she's still here. On slow weeks, rain or shine, she would sleep on the sidewalk. She claims her unique wares—from langis (oil) to paragis (goosegrass) to alingatong (nettle roots)—have the power to treat body pains, increase fertility, even keep bad spirits at bay. Skepticism over her products doesn’t faze her. She wasn’t a believer herself until she used one of her own herbs to treat her myomas.

Father Hans Magdurulang: One of Quiapo’s most-loved priests

It’s impossible to talk about Quiapo without its church, and it’s impossible to talk about its priests these days without mentioning the name of Father Hans Magdurulang. He is the head of the basilica's social services office, the disaster and relief office, the formation office, the legal ministry office, and the foundations office. To the district's religious, he is popular as “the priest of the 3 p.m. Friday mass.” But he is also known for being one of the first priests to step out of the parish convent during the pandemic, helping frontliners whenever and however he can. “To go to Quiapo is, most of the time, enriching," says Father Hans. "You might say, 'But Father, there are a lot of snatchers, a lot of chaos, a lot of noise!' But even those things can enrich us."

Junairah: Serving Maranao cuisine on the other side of Quiapo

You’ll be remiss to enter the Muslim Town without trying out the Maranao cuisine at Junairah Halal Food Restaurant. There are no signages from the outside, but you’ll know you’re there when you see the influx of patrons coming in and out even at a dead hour. The restaurant started from humble beginnings. Junairah's mother was a street vendor in the 90s. Both her parents came from Mindanao with not much but a head full of recipes. They cared for no fancy names or interiors. Dishes like beef rendang, balbacua, and chicken piperade are the heart and soul of this unassuming establishment. "Sana mas makilala pa ang pagkaing Maranao,” Junairah says. The young wife and mother helps in the restaurant whenever she can. One day she will become its owner and custodian: “Ginagawa ko ‘to para matulungan mama ko," she tells Spot.ph. "Para mapatuloy pa rin ‘yung restaurant namin hanggang sa pagtanda namin." 

Alfrien Quirionez: An interfaith coordinator working to bring people together

Ten years ago, entering Muslim Town as a Catholic would earn you prolonged stares. We like to think we’ve moved past this today and it’s with the help of people like Alfrein Quirionez that we’re seeing significant progress.

Quirionez has been Quiapo Church’s interfaith coordinator for over a decade, learning the ropes of open dialogue to bridge two of the world’s mega religions together. Pushing for this initiative, he refuses to call it work but a spiritual calling.

Thanks to people like Quirionez, Muslims who enter Quiapo Church are met with smiles—and the visitors smile back.

Lisa and Lucy: A pair of tarot readers

Lisa and Lucy sit peacefully in a covered stall, each with their own small table for entertaining clients. They have been reading people's fortunes for 10 years and had recently transferred stalls. Now stationed beside Quiapo Church, the ladies say business is better because of the high foot traffic. In big, bold text, their signage reads: “PERSONAL PROBLEM? ASAWA - BOYFRIEND – GIRLFRIEND – KABIT.” They need not say more. In time, the clients will come. Work woes and love lives are the most common concerns people consult them for. As for the non-believers, Lisa only has this no-bull response: “Nasa kanila na ‘yun. Walang pilitan ‘to.”

Eugenio Jongco: The oldest Nazareno bodyguard

The Hijos del Nazareno, a group of devotees dedicated to guarding the Holy Image of the Black Nazarene, was founded in 1939. In 1954, eight-year-old Eugenio Jongco, began serving in Quiapo Church. Now, nearly seven decades later, Jongco is the oldest member of the Nazareno bodyguards. At his advanced age, how long does he think he'll be able to keep practicing his panata and serving the church? “Nandito ang boss ko eh. 'Pag sinabi niyang diyan ka, diyan ka lang talaga," Jongco tells us. We say keep an eye out for the mustachioed senior at the next Traslacion.