Thursday, April 19, 2018

CXXXVII: Furnished with Ah Tay Rarities, and Ripe for Restoration: The 1873 Noel Ancestral House in Carcar, Cebu.


The Akyat-Bahay correspondent in Cebu (and certified santo addict) Louie Nacorda very kindly made transport arrangements and introductions so that I could spend an entire day in the town of Carcar, about 40 kilometers (and the better part of an hour or so) south of Cebu City.  Having done rudimentary research beforehand, I already knew that the town had a promising array of heritage structures for my first-hand examination, with the only obstacle being the fact that I had never been in this town before and I did not even speak the local language.  But that never stopped me before!

Having been given general directions, I did not have much difficulty in locating my target.




Before motoring down to Carcar, however, I dug up some information about my first akyat-bahay target of the day, partly courtesy also of Mr. Nacorda.  The Don Florencio Noel and Doña Filomena Jaen House was originally owned by spouses Jacinto Aldocente and Benita del Corro and purchased by Don Florencio on 27th January 1873 for the princely sum of 160 pesos.  However, the document of sale described the house as “tabla y nipa” and not the structure of coral stone and hardwood surviving today.  Therefore, Don Florencio must have completely built or rebuilt it, presumably shortly after the acquisition.  There is even documentation of the names of the master craftsmen who worked on the 1873 structure: Segundo Alesna (carpenter, Carcar), Críspulo Zábate (carpenter, born in San Nicolás, resident of Carcar), Celestino Sarmiento (carpenter, born in Cebu City, resident of Carcar), Lito [?] Alesna (mason and carpenter, Carcar), Pelagio Gutiérrez (stone-cutter).

Walking slightly further on gives one a nice full-frontal view of the large house created by these master craftsmen,



with a typical extension for an azotea to the right


Excluding the azotea momentarily, the façade was beautifully balanced,



with large arched-top doorways on either side of a barred square window.


After wagering that the real main entrance would probably not be this set of wooden plank doors on the right side of the façade, with an outside lock


but rather this other set on the left surmounted by a blue tile of the Sacred Heart and Immaculate Heart, and with a postigo (cut-out pedestrian doorway),


I knocked and made some noise outside this, and – abracadabra – the postigo opened itself for me.


Actually, the door was opened for me by the current homeowner, Jerry Martin Noel Alfafara, whom Louie had also put me in contact with.  Mr. Alfafara was raised, educated, and had worked in the United States, but some years before my visit, he uprooted himself from Chicago and came home to Carcar to take possession of this ancestral house that he inherited from his mother’s family.  He conversed with everyone (except me of course) in fluent Cebuano (though with a strong American accent), which indicated to me that he was completely at home and committed to staying put.

After shutting the entrance behind us,


he led me through the ground-floor foyer


which gave me an opportunity to appreciate the original coral stone walls


wooden ceilings


and well-worn granite floors



There was, on one wall, a door that led to the rest of the ground floor, the bodega that could also be accessed via the locked door on the right side of the façade that we had seen from the outside earlier.


There was no significant attempt to disguise the tree trunks that actually hold up the house’s second floor and that lined up with the non-load-bearing stone walls.


At the end of the foyer was an intermediate stone landing



where an apparently much-used wicker seating set was positioned.



From this landing, the visitor could view the property’s side yard


through iron grilles (and beside an image of Carcar’s patroness, Saint Catherine of Alexandria, painted on a capiz window panel)


Finally, we were ready to ascend the house’s grand staircase


but not before we are distracted by yet another door,


that gives access to another part of the ground floor, likely the home office of the original master of the house (and his successors).

We finally make it to the top of the grand staircase


which is a beautifully symmetric showpiece of turned balusters and carved newel posts from the house’s aforementioned master carpenters.



Upon emergence from the staircase, the visitor is greeted with what might have been intended to be a washbasin on a small console table, underneath a portrait of an earlier resident hanging from a post.


And in the distance may be seen a lansena to the left and a long dining table to the right, of which more later.

On the left side of this antesala or entrance hall is a long hallway with a doorway to one bedroom on its left


and a seating area in the far distance, beside a louvered divider.


We look up to appreciate the geometrically decorated ceiling in this area.


Turning to the other (right) side of this entrance hall, we are welcomed by yellow curtains over a beautifully carved doorway



framing a gently arched pair of doors


to the sala or main living room


that looked over the main road in front of the house, via a narrow “volada” or flying corridor.



The living room floor was made up of a variety of wooden planks, perhaps balayong and narra,



and edged with reinforcements of some sort in kamagong.


This living room held furniture from different periods in the house’s long life, including a post-war ambassador sala set



a small single-drawer table in one corner


another similar table beside the doorway and under another portrait


and a bentwood set.


There was also a nice pair of non-identical console tables opposite each other, one against a post and marble-topped


and the other all-wood against the opposite wall


and under a Venetian-style mirror



The living room was illuminated by a single chandelier hanging from a ceiling of squares of about a foot each.


From this living room, the master of the house could enter his bedroom via double doors



similar to those of the entrance from the antesala, and that look like this from the inside.



This master bedroom is prominently positioned at the corner of the house, overlooking the main street and the side yard, and is directly above the main entrance.  It features a beautifully ornate Ah Tay-style canopied bed



and a late 19th century tambol aparador, also in the Ah Tay-style.


There was also another aparador in an early 20th century style, generously carved and mirrored,


a chair and small table


and a makeshift home office desk and chair beside a chest of drawers.



Finally, there was a trio of Santos – a Sacred Heart, a Saint Vincent Ferrer, and a Blessed Virgin Mary –


on a small two-drawer altar table.


Going back outside to the antesala, we make our way to the large dining room,


directly opposite the grand staircase.


Behind the pillar that we had seen earlier and sandwiched in between it and the dining room wall was this permanently fixed table


perhaps originally intended to work as a plant stand, or maybe a serving table.

At one end of this dining room was this beautifully carved 19th century lansena or sideboard that we had glanced at when we first came up the stairs.


On either side of this lansena were these built-in cupboards that held plateware and glassware.



However, the main feature of this 19th century dining room was undoubtedly this long dining table.


Long-time readers will immediately recognize this as a magic table,


in an unusual and rare (but apparently not for this house) Ah Tay style.

Rather than individual free-standing segments as with most other Filipino magic tables, this was of the type where two end tables


supported one long legless middle stretch, providing comfortable seating for twelve or more diners.


Lighting was provided by this etched-milkglass Art Deco fixture


and by the bright sunshine through these pair of doors decorated with glazed hexagons


from the open balcony


directly between the dining room and the main road outside, from where one can peep into the living room



or glance back into the dining room




Back in the antesala, we walk to the far end,


to the seating area that we saw earlier, which has not only a table and chairs


but also a window-side bench.


This long hallway was decorated with an array of original calados (pierced transom frieze)


and colourful artworks such as this one.


One bedroom was accessed from this hallway via these double doors.


This bedroom was well supported from underneath by yet more undisguised tree trunks.



In contrast to the master bedroom that we had already visited, this had more recent furnishings from the 1930’s, including this Art Deco bed,


this full-moon-mirrored Art Deco dresser


and this asymmetric aparador.


On the other hand, there was also a 19th century tambol aparador


now missing its crown plinth, an iron-framed bed, possibly from around the turn-of-the-20th century


and a curious-looking freestanding cabinet with indeterminate function (was it a safe?).


Back in the hallway, we go past the louvered divider, now missing several teeth,


to check out the house’s third bedroom, behind yet another set of double doors.



This bedroom had another iron-framed bed


and another two-door tambol aparador.


There was also a low chest of drawers, apparently with a marble top, under a wood-framed mirror.


And in one corner was a tall double-door aparador, which looked built-in.


Back outside this bedroom, there is a small corridor


from where on the left side is a small doorway that leads back to the second bedroom,


and from the right side is another set of double doors that that gives access to a fourth bedroom, actually beside the third bedroom.



This bedroom had yet another iron bed,


a low two-door tambol aparador,


a crib, presumably now outgrown,


and a makeshift home office work station


At the far end of this small corridor is a wide single-leaf door



that leads to a large kitchen and work room, featuring a small platera


beside another tree trunk pillar,


and another one,


a table and benches,


and various other practical tables and cabinets,




including a chicken coop (with no residents at this time).


One needs to get over the distressed walls,


mouldy ceilings,


and rough or cratered floors



to get to the massive firewood-fuelled stove


or to use the rudimentary facilities



or simply to seek fresher air outside.



If one wishes to use somewhat better facilities, there is fortunately a secret room tucked in between the master bedroom and the second bedroom, accessed via these doors above the main staircase,



This room not only contains further pieces of furniture, including another double-door aparador


and a low comoda.


Hidden deep inside this room



is the master toilet-bath, likely a 20th century add-on.



This lengthy old-house exploration made me ripe and ready for my host’s generous offer to walk to the nearby public market to pick up some very fresh lechon and sitsaron (Carcar’s specialities) and vegetables (edible ferns), which we brought back to the house and feasted on while seated at the Ah Tay magic table in the dining room.  But since this is not a food blog, I’ll fast forward through this. 

Right after lunch, my host took me to just about the only part of the house that I had not seen (or so he said) – another bedroom at the back, near the kitchen,


which now functioned as a storeroom for some elderly residents, including what was said to be Carcar’s original processional image of its patroness, Saint Catherine of Alexandria



and her traditional emblem, the breaking wheel on which she is believed to have been martyred.



There was also what was obviously a Nazareno, apparently of more recent vintage,


a couple of unidentified torsos,


and numerous smaller images, mostly from a now-incomplete Nativity tableau.



Obviously these images would benefit from a thorough restoration.  Which will be easy compared to the restoration needed by the 1873 Florencio Noel and Filomena Jaen Ancestral House.  Mr. Jerry Martin Noel Alfafara needs all our appreciation and best wishes on this challenging yet very worthy endeavor.  


Originally published on 16 April 2018. All text and photos (except where attributed otherwise) copyright ©2018 Leo D Cloma. The moral right of Leo D Cloma to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted.