Gentrification of Lubiran
This photo of fresh fish being prepared by a vendor was taken at our neighborhood talipapa. A talipapa is a mini-market that sits closer to residential homes than the main public markets. It is where you go when you need a kilo of galunggong for lunch and don’t have time for the long trip to the palengke.
Months ago this talipapa and the stalls that lined that street corner were demolished to make way for something new.
Rumors of a Jollibee or a Puregold mini started going around. A few years back a 7-Eleven opened here, the first 24/7 convenience store on the street. Today there is another convenience store just a few blocks away.
That corner used to be a hardware store called Nazareth back in the 80s. An old Chinese family ran the store, and I remember running errands there as a kid for my Lolo Stutz whenever we had a project going on at home. Nails, a can of paint, a length of wire. The owners knew him by name.
Lubiran street used to be quiet and nearly empty of traffic. The street basically ended at the river, so the only people passing through were the ones who lived here or had business here. The sidewalk was usually home to taxi drivers on break, eating at the tapsilog and kaldereta spots that used to line our street. If you saw a row of parked cabs, you knew the food was good.
Then came the bridge.
Before it, Lubiran was practically an island. If you were driving to Gen. Kalentong, you had to go all the way around through P. Sanchez and over the Sevilla bridge to cross the San Juan River. Mandaluyong was right across the water, but by car it felt like a different city.
People on foot had more options, and some of them took a bit of nerve. You could walk across the old railway bridge. There was a floating pontoon bridge meant just for walking, which moved a little under your feet. There was a hanging bridge that crossed into Punta. And there was Ilaw’s Tawiran, a banca pulled across the water by wire. It was mostly used by students and workers who wanted to get closer to Makati by way of Panaderos. You paid 25 centavos back in the late 80s, sat down, and someone pulled you across hand over hand.
In the mid-2010s the Bacood-Kalentong Bridge was built, and it connected Lubiran directly to Gen. Kalentong. Locals call it the S bridge because of the way it curves to land on both banks.
Overnight Lubiran stopped being a dead end and became a shortcut. Jeepneys, tricycles, motorcycles and private cars that used to avoid our street now had every reason to pass through. Commuters were happy. Businesses noticed the foot traffic and the car traffic. Land got more valuable. And that is usually where gentrification starts. Not with a mall, but with a road that suddenly connects you to somewhere else.
To be fair, I would actually prefer the Puregold or any mini grocer over another fastfood chain. At least a grocer serves the people who live here.
I support the local stalls by making them my first choice whenever we need supplies. It is honestly more practical to buy in bulk from the supermarket, but you don’t always have the time to go.
These stalls were also my lifeline during the pandemic. Before Grab delivery was a thing for us, these were the only places where you could get supplies within walking distance of our home. When the lockdowns hit, the suki who sold you fish and vegetables mattered more than any big chain.
The old fish stalls now rent a space a few meters away, along with the other stalls that once lined this stretch. The food stalls moved a bit farther. Rent for commercial spaces is skyrocketing, and some vendors are already thinking about closing shop.
The S bridge brought progress to Lubiran. I just hope there is still room on the street for the people who were here before it.
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