Bahay Kubo: Our Home*

We grew up in a simple barangay called "Lolomboy" in Bocaue, Bulacan. Our parents lived there since the late 1960s. After Typhoon Ondoy wreaked havoc in October 2009, we rebuilt and repaired our childhood home. Little did we know that we would later acquire another property in the nearby barangay Duhat. This decision, made in 2006, feels like divine intervention. Had we not purchased that second home, perched on higher ground, I am unsure where our family would have found refuge after the flood. God’s providence is undeniable. What’s more remarkable is that weeks before Ondoy struck, we had moved all our important documents and cherished photos to this new place without any knowledge of the coming super typhoon.

Our batch went to our house during our Integration in 2005.

Initially, our second home was envisioned as a rest house. The tranquility and cool climate of the area made it an ideal retreat. However, over time, it became our primary residence. Despite this, we never neglected our original house in Lolomboy. In fact, we visit it daily, as it remains a cherished part of our family history.

Building our second home was a family affair, a true labor of love. We didn’t hire an architect; I took on the challenge of designing it myself, presenting my plans for family approval. The result was a modern take on the traditional "bahay kubo"—a Filipino nipa hut. Constructed mainly from bamboo and topped with nipa and anahaw leaves, the home has a modern twist: a tiled floor, a sleek kitchen, a bar, a shower, and an air-conditioned bedroom. The living space is comfortable, surrounded by a lush garden, and we even built separate smaller kubos—a receiving area and a storage space. There’s also a terrace, or veranda, that feels like an extension of the home, providing a serene view of the surroundings.

The original plan for the house included two bedrooms and a large living room. However, after some discussion, my eldest sister proposed adding a small swimming pool, leading to some necessary adjustments. It may surprise many, but building a bahay kubo today is more expensive than constructing a concrete house, and it requires meticulous maintenance.

In the end, a house is just a structure. What transforms it into a home is the love, respect, and faith that nourish the family living within. Our home is a place where prayer anchors our lives, and where each member finds comfort and belonging.

Below are the graphics of the original plans for our beloved home, along with a “home vacation reflection” I wrote in 2007.

A BLESSED HOME VACATION

May 2007

Rev. Louie R. Coronel, OP

Our Thanksgiving Mass during our communal vacation in Palawan was a heartfelt expression of gratitude to God for all the graces we have received. Each day, we are blessed by God's generosity, even though we sometimes fail to recognize it. Home vacations are not merely long summer breaks; they are blessings meant to be spent with our first family. Otherwise, we miss the true purpose of this vital part of our formation. To know our roots is to understand more about ourselves. We eagerly anticipate these vacations, as they leave us physically and spiritually renewed before another year of formation begins.

This year's home vacation was particularly special for me. I did not go out without my family, except on one occasion when I visited a friend in Malolos City, whom I consider a brother. That visit further strengthened our family bonds.

At home, in addition to watching my favorite TV shows, I engaged in gardening and general house cleaning. I even took on the laundry duties. When my mother asked why I was doing the laundry, I told her that service and mission are central to our formation. To complete the package, I also ironed our clothes and washed the dishes. Saturdays became cleaning days, as they had been for me even before I became a Dominican.

It was also my first time spending vacation in our small kubo made of nipa and bamboo, located in the neighboring barangay. I found it fascinating to harvest santol, kaimito, calamansi, peppers, and mangoes, even though our land is not that large. Before the vacation ended, we planted eggplants, batao, and a flowering plant given to us by my sister. In three months, we hope to see the fruits of our labor. It was a peaceful and fulfilling experience to plant and tend the garden.

Every Friday, especially when I am home, our family visits the National Shrine of the Divine Mercy in Marilao, Bulacan. It is in that sacred place that I ask for God's mercy and guidance in my vocation and discernment. On Sundays, we attended Mass together as a family—something we hadn’t done before. Another blessing, indeed! I also spent some time reviewing Latin, but ultimately decided to focus on Spanish, which will be helpful for my thesis.

There’s a common description of a joyful vacation: it always feels bitin (too short). But we know there is a time for everything, and I will cherish the moments I spent with my family. At one point, I felt a bit regretful for not visiting other friends. When I mentioned this to my mother, she responded, “Di bale na, anak, nakasama ka naman namin” (That’s alright, my child, you were with us). How could I not be moved by such a touching statement from my mother?

I know that I will face many challenges again, but I am comforted by the knowledge that many are praying for me and supporting my vocation. They are all blessings, and I cannot help but be deeply grateful to God.

Rev. Louie R. Coronel, OP