A weekend in Iloilo turned four golfers into time travelers.
On Southeast Asia’s oldest fairways, the cheers of “Hala Bira!” met a century of history in every drive, chip, and putt.
In Iloilo, the City of Love, history isn’t behind glass — it moves to festival drums, echoes through church naves, and rolls across century-old fairways.
Looking for a break from Manila, four Tagaytay Highlands golfers found a spot where sport, faith, and heritage come together naturally. Their visit coincided with the Feast of the Santo Niño, the weekend leading up to the Dinagyang Festival (23-26 January), turning a simple golf trip into a full cultural immersion.
At Molo Church — formally the Parish Church of St. Anne, the country’s “Feminist Church” — neo-Gothic stillness gave way to motion.
A young girl lifted the Santo Niño high, leading dancers down the nave in a vivid reenactment of its discovery. As Mass ended, Fr. Rafael raised the icon in joyful rhythm. “Faith, like love, must be lived — sometimes quietly, sometimes in celebration — but always together.”
Outside, Molo Plaza glittered with parols beneath molave trees.
The air was crisp and faintly scented with kalachuchi blooms, thanks to Iloilo City’s strict no-smoking policy.
“HALA BIRA!” rang out — Dinagyang, which means merriment or revelry, alive in every voice.
Nearby, Molo Mansion, once home to the Yusay-Consing family, hinted at the city’s aristocratic past. Its grand rooms now house Kultura boutique racks, but outside, the soul of Molo thrives — food stalls serve steaming bowls of Pancit Molo late into the evening.
Molo’s influence runs deep, leaving a lasting imprint on the city’s history, culture, and way of life. It produced national figures like Chief Justice Ramon Avanceña, while women shaped its intellectual backbone.
A statue of suffragette Pura Villanueva Kalaw stands in the plaza, and the Avanceña sisters’ legacy continues through Colegio de Santa Ana, championing women’s education.
A short drive away in Jaro, Casa Mariquit stands as a quiet witness to history.
Built in 1803 by Ramon Javellana, the house later became home to his granddaughter, Maria Javellana, and her husband, Vice President Fernando Lopez.
Once overlooking vast open land toward the Jaro Church belfry, the house now sits amid modern streets — a symbol of grandeur amid change.
Then came golf.
At Iloilo Golf and Country Club in Sta. Barbara, founded in 1907, they teed off at the oldest golf course in Southeast Asia, where history still plays alongside the game. Expanded to 18 holes in 1958, it preserves a simple philosophy: play the lie the land gives you — no shortcuts, no artifice.
A two-day tournament, sponsored by the Rotary Club, reflected how sport, civic life, and festival intertwine.
“Dinagyang lives everywhere — in the city, in the people,” said City Councilor and Rotarian Johnny Young.
Unlike polished modern courses, Sta. Barbara is alive and unscripted. Crowing roosters accompanied Becky Albert’s early morning tee shots.
Dionne Cu paused as goats wandered across the fairway, then stepped in to hit her shot. A reindeer-shaped tree marks the 18th hole.
Behind bamboo fences, caddie houses stand where kids grow up in rhyme with chip shots before carrying the bag. Here, golf is a shared space.
The club’s historic connection to the Royal and Ancient Golf Club of St. Andrews adds to its charm.
“It’s about time we play the oldest course in Southeast Asia — right here in our own country,” said Totelle Dimson.
Throughout the journey, Kat Albert, who holds a Master of Arts in Illustration from the Savannah College of Art and Design (SCAD) in the United States, documented every step in watercolor — capturing churches, plazas, fairways, and festival scenes, and turning their golf trip into a vivid visual diary of the city.
Beyond the course, Museo Iloilo traced the city’s identity as the original Queen City of the South.
Curator James Mozart Amsuo proudly narrates, among others, early Chinese trade shaped food and textiles — from La Paz batchoy to jusi, piña, and sinamay weaving — earning Iloilo recognition as the 19th-century “Textile Capital.”
During the tournament, Becky Albert and Totelle Dimson quietly rose to the top of the ladies’ division, navigating lagoons and century-old trees with steady control.
They came to Iloilo for golf. They left with something more enduring: a city where history is alive, faith and festival coexist, and the game is played not apart from life — but within it, carried by the unmistakable Dinagyang spirit.