MANILA, Philippines?When I moved back to Talisay City six years ago, I returned to the Balay Dako, my fond home of great childhood memories.

As a child, I knew very well the house?s residents, past and present. I knew as well all the rituals that took place there. It all seemed so mesmerizing to me then, and if you took away all the practical situations and problems that a house like it often encountered, you could be mesmerized by it, too.

I guess it has that effect on people.

Upon my return, one rainy day, I saw the water running down from the ceiling through the grand staircase, to create a pool in the landing. It was a wretched sight.

Our clan has always been ambivalent about the state of disrepair about the ancestral home. The different families of the clan have each an idea on whether or not to renovate it.

We are a very close-knit clan. My great-grandparents had 17 children, many of whom spawned big families as well. Our late great grandmother Enrica or ?Tana Dicang? (?Tana? is an abbreviated form for ?Kapitana,? since she was the Kapitan?s widow) had bequeathed the Balay Dako to her six daughters, even if she had eight.

In the management of the property, however, the heirs of those six children have involved the participation of the heirs of the two daughters who had been left out of the will.

I now head that part of the clan that takes care of the ancestral home. The other clan members and I work together to ensure that the future of the house becomes as vibrant as its past.

We agree that none of us in our lifetime could actually possess ownership of the house, which we now call Balay ni Tana Dicang.

Built in 1883, Balay ni Tana Dicang was constructed of exotic hardwoods, lifted from the ground and poised on timber stilts (much like the vernacular bahay kubo). It is wrapped entirely on the ground floor by a wall of stone over a meter thick, embellished on the exterior by coquina and brick.

Affluence gives it immense size and ornamentation. The coquina is carved into moldings and beveled panels. The wood is carved with botanical forms, all bearing distinct Filipino marks.

When we were doing the first phase of restoration, we discovered that under several layers of paint, the original casein of various shades of sky blue still existed.

We researched the other attributes of the structure, unearthing secrets that seemed to speak to us like the spirits of ancestors long ago.

If our goal is to preserve, then our predecessors apparently did a good job of keeping intact journals, letters, documents and even cooking recipes that indicate the life of the structure, the vibrancy of the place.

We learned from our research that our ancestors had old coins melted so that the silver could be used for forks and spoons that now bear the initials of their owners.

China, too, even fragile, have survived the ravages of wars and other turmoils.

We also unearthed the old vestments of the icons of saints, which are paraded during Holy Week. They were of purple silk velvet, embellished with gold thread.

We also discovered linen that had apparently survived mites and bugs.

Dresses and gowns and other clothes from bygone days have survived; they have been loaned to other museums wishing to showcase the fashions of the past. Interestingly enough, only women?s wear have survived.

Last Sept. 10, we opened the Balay ni Tana Dicang to the public. Its history of 125 years has been traced and retraced, back and forth, and the connection and reconnection that take place are itself a testimony to the family reunion that links past and present generations.