Behind the Stone Walls: A Diary of Intramuros

October 14, 1887

Today, the bells of the Manila Cathedral woke me just as the sun began to paint the sky in shades of soft pink and gold. From my bedroom window high up in our bahay na bato—our traditional stone house—I looked out over the massive stone walls that surround our city of Intramuros. These walls are so thick that entire carriages can drive along the top of them! They have stood for hundreds of years, keeping us safe, but sometimes they make me feel like we are living inside a giant stone castle.

After breakfast, Mother sent me to the plaza to fetch some fresh pan de sal bread. Walking down the cobblestone streets, I had to step quickly to the side as a grand kalesa, a horse-drawn carriage, clattered past. The driver tipped his hat to me, and the horse’s hooves made a rhythmic clack-clack sound against the stones. All around me, the beautiful houses had their sliding windows made of flat, shiny capiz shells wide open to catch the morning breeze.

Near the grand city gate, I saw two Spanish soldiers standing guard. They looked very serious in their bright uniforms, holding their heavy muskets. I hurried past them to the bakery, where the warm, sweet smell of baking bread filled the air. Señor Manuel, the baker, smiled and handed me the warm paper bundle. He even gave me an extra sweet roll because he said I was his most polite early-morning customer.

On my way back, I stopped at the plaza to watch the pigeons gather around the central fountain. As the tropical heat began to rise, I knew the streets would soon grow quiet for the afternoon siesta. I love our stone city, especially in the evening when the oil lamps are lit, throwing long, dancing shadows against the ancient walls. But sometimes, when I look out past the giant gates, I wonder what the rest of the Philippine islands look like beyond our beautiful stone fortress.