An Evening in Quiapo

I walked into the living room to see my friend Jonathan dressed in shorts, a tee shirt, a baseball cap, and flip-flops—uncommon attire for an evening out.

“You going to work out?” I asked.

“No, we’re going to Quiapo,” he said. “We have to dress down so we don’t stand out so much.”

I laughed, imagining our white faces hovering a foot above the rest of the crowd.
“Oh, like that’s going to help us.”

I went back into my room and changed anyway. Jonathan’s girlfriend, Meredith, walked out in flip flops, a denim skirt, and a black tee-shirt, her hair tied in pig-tails.

“We’re taking a jeepney,” she said, pointing to my backpack, “You might want to leave that behind.”

“Is this part of the whole ‘we’re not wealthy tourists’ look?” I asked, knowing they both had cars.

“Yeah,” she nodded. “Exactly.”

We headed out the door and into the bustle of Malate. The three of us hopped in a jeepney and covered our mouths to block out the exhaust and smog.

We rode for awhile, squeezing in between cars as the jeepney navigated Manila traffic. We stepped out finally, instantly enveloped in a world of scent and sound. Jeepneys buzzed by; hordes of people walked past us with shopping bags in their hands, their purses tucked under an arm; vendors walked around selling their wares, and everywhere the scent of fried meat, roasted peanuts, and diesel pervaded.

R.Hidalgo street (where the camera shop was located):

Photo from Wikipedia

“This used to be the center of the Philippines,” Meredith said as we walked at a brisk pace through an SM mall and into a market place. “It’s famous for the Church of the Black Nazarene.”

The Church of the Black Nazarene:

from Wikipedia

(A quick side note: The Black Nazarene has a mystical history. It’s a life sized, dark-skinned statue of Jesus Christ carved by an Aztec with supposed healing powers. A priest bought the statue in Mexico and then some friars brought to the Philippines on May 31st, 1606. For the past 200 years, the statue has been placed on a gilded carriage every January and pulled through the streets of Quiapo by male devotees dressed in maroon. People who touch the Nazarene are reported to sometimes be healed of diseases. Catholics come from all over Manila hoping to get close enough to touch the image and perhaps receive a miracle. They throw towels to the people guarding the statue and ask them to rub the towel on the statue to carry some of its power away with them. This procession, and the accompanying Feast of the Black Nazarene, takes place every year on January 9th. It is usually the single largest festival of the year in the Philippines, but somehow I missed it.)

We came to Quiapo to pick up my camera, which Meredith had dropped off for me the night before. A couple of weeks before I arrived in Manila (coming from Banaue), I dropped my camera and ruined the lens-closing mechanism. Not wanting to buy a new one, I asked Jon’s girlfriend Meredith--a local Filipina--if she knew where to get it fixed. I’d gone around and asked a bunch of camera shops but none of them fixed any cameras. Buying a camera comparable to mine would cost at least 300-400 USD, which was pretty expensive for my budget.

Unfortunately, I didn’t have much of a choice—I needed a working camera one way or the other. As a huge favor, Meredith took my camera to Quiapo, “where all the professionals get their cameras fixed.” She investigated a few of the local repairmen and found one who knew how it had broken before she even said it, and who also had the lowest price: 1200PP or about 25$.

We arrived at the booth—a small shop called “Dad’s” tucked in between several others.
Jon laughed, “If you can’t trust a camera repairman called ‘Dad,’ who can you trust?”