You never know what you’ll see or hear in the labyrinthine Bronx-like district of Port Area in Manila. Rumor has it that thieves and thugs abound on any given day and they’re always on the lookout for their next prey. Cries for help of hapless victims are drowned out by the cacophony of sounds – from the loud cries of sometimes shirtless barkers; to booming horns of 16-wheeler trucks that make the roads vibrate when they pass; to speeding motorcycles which ply the streets with their uninterrupted honking, much like the unbeatable Road Runner’s never ending “beep-beep.”
From Anda Circle, enter Roberto Oca St. and you will find a long line of stalls selling anything and everything – from motorcycle helmets to sewing machines to air-conditioners and refrigerators. I never quite figured out where these come from – smuggled, bootlegged or thrown away by the docking ships in the nearby Manila ports? Maybe, maybe not. I even suspect that if you know the right stall, you may also find odd things – from sex toys to snake oil.
Deeper into the interior is the head office of a government agency where the corrupt are as corrupt as can be, at least when I was covering our so-called Aduana years back.
These storied tales of notoriety, however, are no match to the stories recorded – day in and day out – inside a sagging building of faded white and brown within this chaotic district at the corner of Roberto Oca and Railroad Streets.
This two- or three-story building, put up in the 70s, is decrepit and maze-like and on mad rainy days, is connected to the flooded road by a makeshift bridge, an eight-foot wobbly steel span.
Welcome to The Philippine STAR office, welcome to this home of deadline beaters.
As a Manila daily, The Philippine STAR has churned out – and continues to do so – a recording of this nation’s continuing journey – its triumphs and travails, its stories of love and war, its dreams and nightmares.
Much like the daily life in the dizzying Port Area, you also never know what’s the next story that will reach The Philippine STAR newsroom. After all, this nation of 114 million is uniquely unpredictable.
37 years ago
The Philippine STAR was first published on July 28, 1986 by veteran journalists Betty Go-Belmonte – mother of our boss Miguel Belmonte – Max Soliven and Art Borjal and is one of several newspapers founded after the 1986 People Power Revolution, which ended Ferdinand Marcos Sr.’s more than 20-year reign.
I first walked into The Philippine STAR newsroom in 2007, some 16 years ago, braving the chaotic Port Area district. In a small conference room at the far end of the news section, then associate and business editor Antonio “TonyK” Katigbak interviewed me.
TonyK, the scary and big man that he is with his booming voice, asked me why he should hire me. I shamelessly replied – with the boldness and audacity of youth – that it’s simply because he won’t regret it if he does. The late Betty Go-Belmonte, smiling enigmatically in her lovely portrait, was our witness as sir Tony gave me a shot.
11:11
Fast forward to 2023. The Philippine STAR is moving to a new office, elsewhere to faraway Parañaque – faraway for sure, at least for a Quezon City citizen like me.
As a field reporter, I don’t go to the office often. Port Area is also already too far for me and many times I wished we would move to a different office. Alas, moved we did but even farther than I ever imagined. As Mother Teresa once warned, more tears are shed over answered prayers.
The other day, I went to the office as a sort of farewell. The bright yellow and blue Philippine STAR signage on the facade has been taken down.
The last editorial press work in the building, which we all grew to love as our second home, was scheduled last night Nov. 11 or 11:11, said to be the luckiest of all angel numbers. The ‘ones’ signify new beginnings, to mean that you are about to embark on a new journey, spiritual experts said.
I write this too on 11/11, a windy morning in my home in Quezon City. Perhaps the gentle breeze is carrying a message from the angels reminding me that the only thing constant in life is change.
Our beloved country and the media industry are likewise changing and the changes are dizzying. Who knew our people would bring another Marcos back into power?
The newspaper itself has seen so many changes. Colleagues I cherish as friends have left and moved on. TonyK, the man whom I will always be grateful to for taking a chance on me – I hope with no regrets – passed on last year.
I will miss the old building which, on some days, embraced my sadness and joy, my victories and defeats, my tears and laughter. Life, you realize as you grow older, is an endless journey of such moments. What makes all the difference though are the in-betweens.
But there really is no time to give in to nostalgia. There are stories to write and deadlines to beat.
We may move to another building, but we are still here. Still here. And perhaps for as long as fate allows it, always will be.
We will continue to record our nation’s journey the best way we can – its joys and pains, dreams and nightmares, triumphs and travails – and everything in between, carrying with us memories from the Port Area but hopefully leaving behind the wild noise, the sex toys and the snake oil.
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Email: eyesgonzales@gmail.com. Follow her on Twitter @eyesgonzales. Column archives at EyesWideOpen (Iris Gonzales) on Facebook.