MANILA, Philippines -- For 70 years, the Ibaviosa residence, located in 2,200 sq.m. of lot, has withstood countless insults inflicted by nature: earthquakes, typhoons, day-to-day weathering. These may seem as likely occurrences in the lifetime of any house but this particular dwelling also has to brave constant flooding, which regularly afflicts Malabon which is close to the sea. Despite this, the house has kept its look of gentrified dignity: its bones are well-preserved and its façade-a pre-war, bahay-na-bato look-has aged beautifully, making an easy claim to the term "ancestral house."
The house is presently occupied by Edna Ibaviosa and her two daughters Teresa and Angelica; the head of the family, Manuel Ibaviosa Jr. died in 2005. It was Manuel who had inherited the house from his parents Manuel Sr. and Maria Cruz whose initials are welded on the grillwork in the front door and whose portraits hang in Edna's personal office. With her husband gone, Edna reveals that she is all the more committed in "keeping the memory of the house. Puwede na nga naming gawing museum ito."
Pre-museum-like days, the house was made of humbler materials: kawayan (bamboo) and pawid (nipa). Credit goes to the industriousness of the Ibaviosas who established a patisan (fish sauce business) in their backyard and were first to own fishing boats in Malabon. It was in 1940 that the house, signifying the social and economic status of the family, assumed its present look. Edna says that it's one of the few surviving old houses in Malabon.
Stepping into the living room, one will have a notion of its grandiloquent past: marble floor, French windows and ceiling carved with Art Deco designs. The couch, featuring a sinuous frame, is upholstered in evocatively-patterned fabric. The main staircase, accessible in a corner of the living room and has a brief landing, is flanked with shapely balustrades, leading to the second floor whose ceiling continues the Art Deco motif and whose walls are painted in a whisper of pink.
Aside from replacing the galvanized iron roof and installing submersible pumps inside and outside of the house, Edna says that she has not changed anything in the house, adding that "kung ano yung mga gamit na dinatnan ko, hanggang ngayon makikita mo pa rin." (A cabinet, bought in 1923 for 132 pesos, is one the many conversation pieces.) She was not also solved with the idea of raising the level of the floor so flood water can't get in; one, it will destroy the aesthetic of the house and two, considering how big their lot is, to do so will be mighty expensive. What she feels compelled to change and improve is the garden, a medley of palms, shrubs and fruit-bearing trees.
The reason why Edna wants to keep the house in its original appearance is that, growing up in her hometown Calamba, Laguna, she was deeply aware how people maintained their houses and valued their possessions. Things did not only provide comfort but also defined the longings and aspirations of their owners. She, for instance, kept the bicycle of her father for reasons more than sentimental. She, however, won't impose her point of view on her children who, she admits, "belong to a different generation." Eventually, it will be her children's choice on what to do with the house.
But in her case, Edna will want to preserve the house "hanggang kaya ko." After all, it's not only a shelter for her and for her daughters but also a sturdy, unflagging symbol of the three generations of Ibaviosa. Her commitment to the family and to the house was shown when she turned down the offer of her siblings to stay in the US permanently, choosing to live in the 70-year old house and its memories. "Mas gusto ko dito," she says. Kung saan ako masaya, dun ako."
