There is a bit of London that will forever be Philippine. It is a house on 37 Chalcot Crescent NW1, on Primrose Hill, just off Regents Park, owned many many years ago by the Beckett family. One can approach it from two tube stations, southward from Chalk Farm or westward from Camden Town. If one happens to be visiting the London Zoological Gardens, it will just be about 10 minutes walk across the road in a northerly direction.
The three-storey, white painted house with spear-like metal fencing in black, is easy to spot in the rows of identical terrace houses on the crescent. For it is the only one with a blue circular plaque to the left of the black front door saying that Dr Jose Rizal, Filipino hero, lived there in 1888-1889. The way though that the house has become for all intents and purposes a pilgrimage site for Filipinos visiting the British isles, one would think Rizal lived there for a long long time.
I suppose he did not have to live there for very long. For whatever period of time he spent in that house had been absolutely productive for both the birth of the Philippine Republic, and the pride of Filipinos nowadays not just as a nation of heroes, but as one with a rich cultural heritage. The house was of course Rizal’s base when he came to England for scholarly pursuits. It is important because under its roof he undoubtedly contemplated the state of his country and what he was going to do to bring about a better future.
While he was a boarder in the house, Rizal worked on three major literary undertakings–his annotations of Antonio de Morga’s Sucesos de las Islas Filipinas, his philological studies with a view to producing a Philippine dictionary and grammar book, and most importantly his sequel to Noli Me Tangere. During this time he was prolific in political writing as well as correspondence with family and friends. Rizal was supposed to have done some sculptures during this period too although I have never set eyes on any of them at all.
Chalcot Crescent is located fairly centrally and is a stone’s throw away from the residence on Elsworthy Terrace of his good friend, Dr Reinhold Rost, librarian of the India Office Library and who gave him access to Morga’s book. Across the park, the British Library would probably have been a good hour’s walk away. The major sites of attraction of London would have been also mere walking distance from where he was staying.
It is a pleasant surprise therefore to find that Rizal had also actually traipsed from there to London’s more distant but less affluent East End to continue his work with Filipinos. He apparently set up a Filipino young men’s club in the Dalton area near Hackney to ensure that his kababayans of that time were always conscious of national issues. Rizal should probably also be given the title of ‘Father of Filipino Community Organizations in Britain’. A lot of Filipinos nowadays own houses in London’s East End where prices are generally cheaper, but I do not think many of them realize that the hero was active in their community a hundred years ago.
I wish I had a copy of the second volume (1888-onwards) of Epistolario Rizalino which the Biblioteca Nacional de Filipinas published in 1930. It ought to have details of Rizal’s community organization work in London. It would be fascinating to see which Filipinos were here then, what they did, what they talked about and possibly where they met regularly. Maybe the Filipino community can discover another historical site in London. But this time, maybe the government or some rich Filipino benefactor could purchase the property and turn it into a Philippine center or museum.
The Filipino community continually seeks role models for their children born or growing up in Britain. The Philippines however is strangely bereft of credible modern heroes who could be turned into icons of role model proportions, and whatever Filipino breakthroughs are made to date in Britain relate usually to the theatrical stage. So looking back to the heroes of a century ago, with their imperfections and individual tragedies, is a safer bet. For theirs at least are monumental achievements with which it is less difficult to identify. However, one cannot simply identify with these heroes in scholarly books or in newspaper articles. What they need is a place to go to where they could see visually what these heroes looked like and what sort of things they did when they were here for the country. One solution is to have a house devoted to Filipino heroes who lived in London.
The Chalcot Crescent house is apparently owned by an American lawyer who rents out the property to visiting Americans. Apart from the Philippine Ambassador, his wife and embassy staff and the Knights of Rizal who every June 19 pay tribute to Rizal with a floral offering at the house, I know of nobody else who was ever let into the house to feast his or her eyes upon whatever historical artefact remains inside, particularly the two rooms Rizal occupied as bedroom and receiving room. This is a tragedy for the Filipino community, and a shame indeed for the Filipino nation. How could the nation allow such a historically valuable property slip through its hands? Its non-Filipino tenants probably cannot even begin to appreciate how much this landmark means for Filipinos around the world.
This property (and the Dalton one, if it ever gets discovered) ought to become more than just a site to pose at for souvenir photographs. I would like to see it as a testament to Anglo-Filipino relations, to the ties that bind both countries to each other in the spirit of friendship, trade, cultural and even political cooperation. That is my fervent hope for Filipinos in Britain who have long been in need of an enduring place to meet with pride. A place where people can bring their families and friends. A place which can showcase the best of Filipinos, old and even new. A piece of England forever Philippine.
[2003, London]
Photo credited to Mr. Ronaldo Samson Adoptante
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