Crime in Manila in the 1840s.

(From Philippine Daily Inquirer)

Byline: Ambeth R. Ocampo

WHEN people come up to me at lectures or a book launch and ask me to sign a collection of books I have written, I am so flattered I oblige.

Nick Joaquin was not so accommodating because he had published so many books that it would have taken him the better part of a day just to sign each one. Not wishing to try Joaquin's patience, I chose his two books on Manila that he later admitted were his all-time favorites. Unfortunately it was a mistake to expect something edifying on the lavishly illustrated "Almanac for Manile[currency]os" and the thick, beautifully printed "Manila, My Manila." In one, he wrote that I wouldn't recognize history if I met him in a dark corner. In the other, he asked what I would know about his Manila. Perhaps this was his way of expressing his affection instead of literally rapping me on my head with his knuckles in a vain attempt to wake me up even if I wasn't sleeping.

Whatever nostalgic or romantic notions I used to have for Spanish Manila I got from reading Joaquin. But after exploring what is left of Intramuros on foot and reading historical accounts of Manila, I must disagree with him.

I wouldn't want to live in the past. Aside from the lack of 21st-century conveniences like a cell phone, the Internet, cars, air conditioning and a microwave oven, there was not much entertainment in Spanish Manila. Imagine living in a time when long-winded sung Masses were considered a highlight of the week. For those with more gruesome taste, the regular executions on Bagumbayan (now Rizal Park) were also considered part of the week's entertainment. What I would give to travel back in time and witness the execution of Rizal by musketry or the execution of Fathers Gomez, Burgos and Zamora by garrote.

Contrary to popular belief, criminals executed by garrote were not killed slowly by strangulation. Rather, the heavy metal bar was made to fit snugly on the victims neck so that, with one twist of the garrote handle, the neck was broken causing quick, merciful death. Since nobody has survived to tell us whether this is true, we will just have to take the executioners' word for it.