Spain's National Day in Manila: A celebration of shared culture—and a personal tribute

Originally published in Manila Bulletin

Spain’s National Day arrives in Manila this October not merely as ceremony, but as a living exchange. The Embassy of Spain, through its Cultural and Education Office and the Instituto Cervantes, is unfurling a month-long tapestry of films, lectures, exhibitions, and design dialogues—proof that the Spain–Philippines relationship is as contemporary as it is historical.

I admit a personal bias: I have deep admiration for Spain. Whenever I study the way Spanish cities are formed—plazas that invite conversation, streets scaled for walking, civic buildings that blend dignity with daily life—I see a philosophy of urbanism that puts culture at the center. That same human scale travels with Spanish education, food, and policy: learning that prizes craft and debate, cuisine that elevates the local and seasonal, and public policies that often aim to balance heritage with innovation. This worldview resonates strongly in the Philippines, where community, memory, and creativity are also anchors of public life.

“Mezcla: Interwoven Cultures and the Mantón de Manila,” opening Oct. 10 at Ayala Museum and running until Feb. 22, 2026, is a perfect emblem of that continuity. The mantón’s journey—crafted across oceans, adopted, adapted, and returned—mirrors our intertwined histories. It reminds us that identity is not a fortress but a conversation. Two other ongoing exhibits extend the dialogue: “Four Centuries of Spanish Engineering Overseas,” a permanent exposition at the Centro de Turismo in Intramuros, and “A Synergy of Ventures. The Post War Art Scene,” at the Ateneo Art Gallery, honoring Fernando Zóbel until February 2026. Engineering, art, infrastructure—these are cultural texts, telling us how people solved problems, imagined futures, and built beauty into utility.

Design takes the spotlight when Héctor Serrano, Spain’s 2024 National Design Awardee, visits DLSU–St. Benilde (Oct. 14), UP Diliman (Oct. 15), and the University of Santo Tomás (Oct. 16), followed by appearances at Manila FAME (Oct. 17) and the close of Manila Design Week (Oct. 18). His talk, “The Journey in Between,” is more than a creative masterclass; it is an invitation to think the way Spanish designers often do—bridging tradition and technology, public need and poetic form. For Filipino students and entrepreneurs, that mindset is a catalyst: design as service, business as culture.

History, too, gets the rigorous attention it deserves. Spain’s pre-eminent Philippine scholar, Lola Elizalde, offers three lectures—on permeable borders in the 19th century (Oct. 14, Casa Azul), reformist debates (Oct. 15, Centro de Turismo Intramuros), and the social histories of leisure (Oct. 16, UP Diliman). These sessions do not simply revisit the past; they question it with empathy and evidence, exploring how people lived together, argued, compromised, and imagined change. In a region still negotiating diversity and development, such inquiry feels urgent.

No Spanish October is complete without Pelikula (Oct. 10–16), the film festival that brings Spanish and Latin American cinema into direct conversation with Filipino audiences—and, this year, with young Filipino filmmakers themselves. One short even uses Chabacano, a living reminder that language is a bridge we still cross. Film, like food, captures the textures of everyday life; it is where we recognize ourselves and learn to see others clearly.

Finally, the 7th Jornadas de ELE Manila (Oct. 24–25, UST)—organized with Ateneo de Manila, UP Diliman, UST, the Embassy’s Education Office, and Instituto Cervantes—focuses on lesson planning, sequencing, and resources for teachers of Spanish. This is the quiet infrastructure of cultural exchange: classroom by classroom, we build the literacy that unlocks literature, business, diplomacy, and friendship across continents.

Why does all this matter? Because culture is not soft power; it is social power. The way Spain shapes cities teaches us about public space and belonging. Spanish education models rigorous humanism; Spanish cuisine dignifies locality; Spanish policies often wrestle, openly, with how to keep heritage alive while embracing modern demands. In the Philippines, these conversations are not foreign—they are familiar. Our partnership thrives not on nostalgia but on shared ambitions: better cities, stronger schools, creative industries, and policies that protect the vulnerable while inviting enterprise.

So let this October be more than a calendar of events. Let it be a renewal of civic imagination. Visit “Mezcla,” walk Intramuros with engineering in mind, meet a designer, catch a film in Spanish, cheer a Filipino short, and, if you teach, join the ELE sessions. The strongest proof of the Spain–Philippines relationship is a room where Spaniards and Filipinos create together—designing objects, curating history, telling stories, and planning cities that welcome the next generation.

As for me, each time I look at how Spain forms its cities—and how culture, education, food, and policy interlace in public life—I am reminded why admiration can also be a blueprint. This October, Manila has the tools and the partners. Let’s build.

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