As the capital of Negros Occidental, Bacolod stretches a metropolitan area encompassing the two neighboring cities of Talisay and Silay. In 2008, it topped a survey by MoneySense as being the “Best Place to Live in the Philippines,” as manifested by the flourishing of new upscale residential townships and front-line business centers within its metropolitan sphere. Dubbed as the “City of Smiles,” it is more popularly known for its MassKara Festival and its local delicacies of piaya (unleavened flatbread filled with muscovado sugar) and chicken inasal (char-grilled roasted chicken).

But such a level of acquaintanceship with this city of contrasts and delights can only get one so far in being able to fully realize and experience its glory and splendor. To truly see and appreciate the beauty of Bacolod, one must be eager to listen to her stories.

LOVE, TRAGEDY, REBIRTH

“Do not mistake the engraved motif for letter ‘E’s,” our guide, Reymund Alunan, spiritedly cautioned. “They are actually letter ‘M’s reclining on their sides and facing each other, and they stand for Mariano and Maria.” He was referring to the original owners of the mansion.

Mariano Ledesma Lacson, baron of a vast sugar plantation and scion of two of the most prominent and wealthiest families of Negros Occidental, loved seeing the world, and it was during one of his frequent travels in Hong Kong with his peers when the young and attractive bachelor was immediately smitten by the beauty of Maria Braga, a Portuguese lady from Macau. Not hesitating to court her, Mariano soon offered marriage, and the couple eventually settled in Mariano’s estate in Talisay, living blissfully with incredible wealth and bearing forth ten children.

But tragedy struck when Maria, fully pregnant with their eleventh child, slipped in the bathroom and began to bleed profusely. With Maria not being able to withstand the rigors of travel to the nearest physician, Mariano then hastily dispatched his horse-drawn carriage to fetch a doctor. But in the four days that it took for the doctor to arrive, Maria and her baby were already gone.

Trying to heal from his unfathomable grief, Mariano then embarked on building a grand mansion to immortalize the memory of his wife and provide a house for his unmarried children. The mansion – with its neo-Romanesque twin columns and Italianate design, its walls constructed from precisely poured A-grade concrete, its load-bearing pillars reinforced with thick metal columns used for building railways, and its posts engraved with the couple’s initials – stood as a marvelous and enduring tribute of Mariano’s love for his Maria.

However, during the early part of World War II, the guerilla forces under American command and with consent from Don Mariano, razed the mansion to the ground so as to keep the occupying Japanese forces from using it as headquarters. For three days, the Lacson mansion burned, leaving in the inferno’s wake only the skeletal frame and the grand staircase, which to this day still stand stolidly as a token of undying love by a bereaved widower for his lost wife.

Throughout the sprawling landscaped grounds of The Ruins, as the landmark has so been referred to since it was opened as an attraction to the public in 2008, tourists and sightseers strolled about, taking snapshots and selfies among the still elegant pillars and arches of the old mansion. For its history, The Ruins is touted as the “Taj Mahal of Negros” and is likewise acclaimed as “one of the 12 most fascinating ruins of the world,” “one of the best landmarks in the Philippines,” and has been cited in 2016 as “the Best Heritage Site of the Philippines.”

Such is the recurring story of love, tragedy and rebirth that one will encounter when one starts to peer deep into the character of Bacolod. In nearby Silay, referred to as the “Paris of Negros” as it had, in the olden days, served as the cultural and intellectual hub of the province, many of the well preserved heritage houses likewise hold fascinating tales from the bygone eras. More than thirty have been declared as official heritage landmarks by the National Historical Commission of the Philippines. 

Perhaps the most prominent of the Silay heritage houses is the Balay Negrense, its name being composed of the Hiligaynon word for house and the demonym for the people of Negros. It is the domicile of Victor Fernandez Gaston, son of Yves Leopold Germain Gaston, the French-born entrepreneur who is widely credited to be the very first sugar cane producer in the island of Negros. Victor’s story draws parallels with that of Don Mariano Lacson, as Victor, having lost his wife to unknown circumstances and eventually falling into depression, was bequeathed the house and property by his father. Today, the Balay Negrense serves as a museum, showcasing the aristocratic lifestyle of a late 19th-century Negrense sugar baron.

Then there is also the historic Ledesma house, more commonly referred to as The Mansion (not to be confused with the previously mentioned The Ruins in Talisay). Its backstory is rooted in the forlorn love of the heiress Adela, the original house owners’ only daughter, who, for never wanting to anymore see from her bedroom window the house of her former love, decided to have the entire second storey of her own house demolished. Once hosting many opulent gatherings and celebrations for the town’s social elites before falling into disrepair upon the passing of its owner who died a spinster, The Mansion now once again caters to guests as a dining and events place.

A FESTIVAL OF SMILES

1980. It was a time of crisis. World market prices for sugar were at an all-time low, and Negros, the “sugar bowl of the Philippines” which relied extensively on sugar cane as its primary agricultural crop, was badly bleeding. To add a bitter sting to the calamity, the inter-island vessel MV Don Juan, which was carrying many Negrenses, including those belonging to prominent families in Bacolod City, collided with a tanker and sank on April 22 of that year, resulting in 18 lives lost and 115 missing.

It was in the midst of these dark events that the local government of Bacolod, upon the promptings of a couple of local artists who broached the idea of popularizing mask-making as an alternative livelihood for the city, appropriated some seed fund and enjoined the city’s artistic community and its civic and business groups to hold a “festival of smiles,” as a way to raise the spirits of the people of Negros. And so the MassKara Festival came to be, its name being a portmanteau of the English word mass, meaning “many or a multitude of people,” and the Spanish word cara, meaning “face.” Ever since, this festival of a multitude of smiling faces has been among Bacolod’s tourism centerpieces, exulting in jubilant celebration the city’s and the province’s resilience amidst adversity.

In his design gallery festooned with colorful mask creations and other decorative crafts, the artist and entrepreneur Jojo Vito, who has himself profited well from his home city’s MassKara tradition, attended to me and my fellow guests, as we hunkered down to paint and decorate our own smiling masks. He accommodated us with stories of his life endeavors, narrating how amidst his own personal adversities, he has likewise come out the better.

MILLING OUT THE SWEETNESS

Lying beyond the dazzle and vibrance of Bacolod’s burgeoning development as a metropolis, amongst the stately grandeur and elegance of its preserved heritage, underneath the indulgent sweetness of its Negrense hospitality, and behind its festive smiles that celebrate its people’s exuberance and cheer for life, the true beauty of Bacolod is appreciated not by the externalities of travel. It is rather enjoyed as an inward journey to its soul.

On our last night in Negros, as we were having dinner at the restaurant within The Ruins grounds, our tour host, the Negros Occidental Provincial Tourism Office, gave each of us guests a souvenir.

“It’s a replica of the molino de sangre,” Reymund pointed out as I opened my box. “That is what the sugar mills were like before,” he added, demonstrating how the entire machinery was turned by oxen or humans to grind sugar canes in between two giant rolling pins.

Though insidious-sounding – the name literally translates to “mill of blood” – it is but a simple pressing machine powered by grunt and physical labor. And I thought it was a very fitting memento of my visit of Bacolod and the province of Negros, for it alluded to the fact that through hardship, sweetness is produced.