Calle Crisologo: The Muffled Life of a Simpler Past

When we speak of Vigan, it has always led us to the famous Calle Crisologo. A little background: "Calle" is Spanish term that translates to "street". Calle Crisologo was named after the famous Ilokano poet and politician, Mena Pecson Crisologo. This district is lined up with Spanish-style houses drawing out the Spanish colonization era.

We only got the chance to visit Calle Crisologo on our last day in Ilocos. Kuya Allan told us that the best time to visit the district was at night when the lamps are lit, shadows are cast, and the streets are quiet and romantic. But since we are pressed for time, we visited it during the day and on a very short time. Nevertheless, seeing the famous Calle Crisologo in the flesh was definitely remarkable.

Calle Crisologo

From the Vigan church, we took a Calesa ride that was supposed to last hours. But because we are in a hurry, we just asked our Calesa horsewoman to show us the famous street. It was my first calesa ride so you could imagine my excitement. And impatience. Forgive my ignorance but, I didn't know a calesa was that...slow. At first I was confused on whether we were already in Calle Crisologo because the ride seemed too long for a place our horsewoman said that was "just around the corner." But believe me when I say, when you are in Calle Crisologo, you would definitely know you're in Calle Crisologo. Yes, you would see the washed up cobblestone streets; the Spanish-style houses with their capiz shell windows; the romantic and intricate lamps and wood shops lining the streets. But also, what the struck me the most is the sudden quiet of the surroundings. And then I vaguely remember Kuya Allan telling us that only light vehicles are allowed within the district.

Our rad and fab ride

It was the most picturesque scene of our visit. You may be wondering who owns these houses of cultural importance. According to a quick Google search, these houses are owned by the Filipino-Chinese traders and their families who rose to prominence during the times the clothing and trading industry of the North was at its peak. Since then, the next generation of families have maintained and kept these houses taken-care of.

I noticed, though, that aside from taking care of them, some have turned it into inns, lodgings, and souvenir shops for the excited and willing visitors. And since our then guide, our horsewoman, recommended us to buy our pasalubong (Bagnet and Vigan Longganisa) from the merchants shops there, we dutifully obliged.

Quiel's Meatshop along Calle Crisologo

Some may say that Calle Crisologo had become too much of a souvenir street but, I can't imagine how else the people there are going to maintain the houses and the district without their shops. I imagined them gone and all I can come up with are old houses too poorly-kept to be in and tourists getting their pictures taken on the streets and then immediately leaving for the next tour. Having the shops and inns, and even restaurants, there gave the opportunity for the visitors to actually experience the place. They don't just get to have a picture with it, they get to have memories, too--memories of eating dinardaraan and poqui poqui at Cafe Leona's while street lamps cast a yellow light across your table; memories of waking up at a calesa-style bed at Grandpa's Inn and peeking through the sliding capiz windows feeling like Maria Clara; going from shop to shop finding the best bargain on your souvenir shirt and finding that Iloko vinegar you were keeping an eye out for; having a romantic afternoon stroll with your partner and spotting that perfect wooden treasure chest that will forever remind you of Vigan; coming from Mass and then having a special empanada from the Empanadaan.

It was a shame we didn't get to visit at night but there's always a next time. Because the next time I go to Vigan, I will definitely visit this romantic place again.

We live in a modern world. We live in a world where technology gives imagination life. We live in a convenient world where pushing buttons and touching screens constitute everyday life. We live in the world of quiet engines with sleek and shiny hoods. It was a relief to take a break from it all and looked on a place set on a simpler time, a place that served as a window to our colonized-but-simpler past. Visiting Vigan, I breathed easily.