Understanding our heritage through Museo Del Galeon

Every home visit allows me to rediscover the Philippines and aspects of our heritage. When you have lived most of your adult life away from home, you do not wish to be disconnected from what shapes you. You are constantly longing if not curious about what you’ve been missing or what’s new. To go home is to recollect, reconnect and explore the present.

I am thankful to my good friend Lydia, who prodded me to visit Museo Del Galeon. I went with my cousin and my son who was as intrigued as I was with what it had to offer. I had earlier read that Museo was the venue for an opening event of the ASEAN foreign ministers’ meeting (the Philippines being the chair of ASEAN this year) and how visiting dignitaries found it impressive.

I asked the cordial staff who scanned our tickets about the average traffic on regular days: 150 to 200, she replied. The numbers could double on weekends or holidays and they multiply during school tours. There are discounted fees for students and special rates for seniors and persons with disability.

At the ground entrance is a wall with the Philippine map and its surrounding territories. A rectangular blue screen flashes images and contents like “Welcome to Museo Del Galeon.” Guests pose for photos on this spot. At one side of the hall is a framed marker of the museum’s inaugural board of trustees while on another wall are mounted flags – Cambodia, China, India, Indonesia, Malaysia, Philippines, Spain, Thailand, USA, Vietnam – among others. They signify that: “The Manila galleon trade of yesterday had a profound impact on the world. Today 35 nations represent the peoples and places whose culture and economies bear the imprint of the era.”

Coming from the ground floor we entered in what I initially saw as an unassuming hall. As we engaged with every interactive exhibit, with frames on the walls and artifacts on the shelves, I recognized that my earlier impression of modesty was in fact an overture to novelty.

Gallery 1 tells the story of mariners from pre-colonial Philippines, the sea routes they explored and types of boats, like the bauto, a kind of canoe the Manobos used for trade and transportation along the Agusan River. Through the chronicles of the balangay, I found out about our commonalities with our Southeast Asian neighbors not only in terms of boat building, but also about how sea vessels are profoundly attached to their rhythm of life. For example, the Ivatan fishermen consider the shore where their tataya boats first sail as a “bridge between the living and spirit worlds,” or how boats are symbolically used in rituals for a prosperous life or in traditions for the afterlife.

I gathered how certain routes traversed by boats in yesteryears led to voyages of peace. This prompted me to daydream about a fleet of sea vessels, navigating through our current world fraught with natural and manmade calamities, heading towards clarity and universal peace.

At the maps section, I took particular interest in a 1792 map of the Port of Sorsogon. I pictured my hometown in the late 18th century as a lively anchorage where vessels docked, where locals bartered their goods or where adventurous Sorsoganons might have boarded ships that sailed to other lands.

A storyline portrays the galleons as “castles of the sea.” Yet we are also informed that behind every gorgeous galleon is a haunting story of slavery, forced labor and ancient practices of deforestation (timber being the main material in ship building). A text suggests that some 6,000 workers were required “to cut and haul timber for the masts of a single galleon.” An extract tells how Cavite was once central in the galleon industry. I wonder if there are still vestiges of the province’s vibrant galleon production? Or known descendants of builders and artisans who have mastered the craft of ship building?

Through a short film we learn how social divide is represented in every expedition. Jose, perhaps a stowaway or unpaid help, stays in the steerage amongst animals and cargos; Juan and brawny men like him oversee the maintenance of the galleon both in stormy and tranquil seas; Chen the chef cooks meals for the crew. It tells of how a voyage can be tempestuous, marred by the weather’s unpredictability, whereupon the calmness and wrath of the sea could either uplift or destroy one’s spirit. The film narrates how everyone had a role and a goal in mind: “to set foot on terra firma,” a land that would welcome them.

When we reached the high point of the museum where the replica of the Galeon Espiritu Santo anchors, my first impulse was to solemnly applaud and honor the thousands of men who built the colossal, enchanting maiden of the sea. Here, we virtually grasp how it is aboard a galleon, learn about ancient navigational instruments that steered sea travel or peek at the officers’ quarters and cabins. While I read descriptions and texts that ignited my interest, my son was engrossed in interactive activities such as identifying parts of the galleon.

A visual delight is the “Fleet of the Centuries,” celebrating the galleons and their transpacific journeys, paving the way to cross-cultural exchanges “reshaping the world and ushering in the dawn of inter-ocean commerce.”

The themes of each methodically curated gallery entwine with historical milestones, relics and antiques and narratives about our local heroes and conquistadores. The authenticity and provenance of artifacts are remarkable, as I noted those on temporary or long-term loan from private and institutional collections. Coasting along the galleries makes one’s tour an astonishing expedition itself. Like most of our museums, it is a place where every Filipino, especially every student, must explore.

Museo Del Galeon spotlights the grandeur, glory and misfortunes of an icon. It entertains and educates us on how historic expeditions have helped create our world today.