I could simply say "The big bell of Pan-ay Church," but no—traveling gives you the incredible opportunity to see the vast, fantastic wonders of this world, and sometimes you just kind of scuttle and secretly struggle to find the right adjectives to properly describe certain things and places you see. In this specific case, I have to channel my best Alex impersonation and confidently throw in a couple of A Clockwork Orange slang terms to fittingly put a creative title to this travel post.
The Bolshy Big Bell of Pan-ay Church
The Bolshy Bell of Pan-ay Church is widely said to be the biggest of its own kind in all of Asia. Located officially at the Sta. Monica Parish Church, it was completed in 1878, and its primary materials remarkably consisted of 70 sacks of coins, melted and cast tightly together to create such a gigantic bronze bell. During that chaotic time, the bell specifically served as the town's loud warning sign whenever there was an impending pirate attack from the coast.
As I dragged my tired self inside the massive church, I quietly saw a few locals intimately praying inside. Just to make it official that I was respectfully inside the house of God, I motioned for a sign of the cross and silently recited my default prayer: for good health and safety for my loved ones, a steady life filled with meaningful travels and awesome experiences, adequate wealth to barely supplement what I wanted in life, and most of all, the ever-present plea in each person's prayer—"everlasting peace."
Pan-ay Church Architecture & History
Pan-ay Church was first formally erected in 1774. After the original wooden structure was severely damaged by the harsh forces of nature, further massive restoration efforts continued steadily until 1884. It was intricately designed with heavy Baroque architectural influences and highlighted by a brilliant facade made entirely of coral stone, while thick, unyielding walls and cold flooring were made of pure marble. A typically designed Spanish colonial church, its massive bell tower is securely located on its right side, with huge stone columns robustly supporting the grand facade.
The Dakong Lingganay
I was quietly looking around for the narrow stairway up to see the legendary dakong lingganay (big bell), which is said to heavily weigh a staggering total of 10.4 tons. I suddenly encountered two of the church's local caretakers who genuinely seemed to read my mind and politely asked me if I wanted to climb the bell tower. I quickly said yes, and they happily accompanied me up the rusty iron stairway.
The high view from the bell tower offers a spectacularly great vantage point to seamlessly see the quiet and charming town of Pan-ay—the former vibrant capital of Capiz and once the bustling site of a thriving textile industry, as well as a rich rum and wine distillery famously owned by the grandfather of former Philippine President Manuel Roxas.
I comfortably rested for an entire hour at the breezy bell tower together with the two friendly caretakers. We shared a pleasant chatter the absolute best we could, since they both could speak fluently in Tagalog. The coastal wind was blowing nicely, and the more it did, the more I deeply felt like I needed to take a nap right then and there.
But at that exact time, a tourist van aggressively rolled into the parkway of the church, and out came another loud set of visitors, whom the two caretakers immediately greeted with a warm smile. It was my clear cue then to go down. After taking a couple of my signature "angry-looking" portraits with the bolshy bell of Pan-ay, I carefully went down and proceeded directly to the small local museum located just right next to the church.
I deliberately decided to come here as a quick side trip to my Roxas City visit, which itself was only a transit point of entry to my main destination: Kalibo in Aklan. It was the quiet day exactly before the wildly chaotic Ati-Atihan weekend, and my flight had touched down in Roxas incredibly early that morning, while my travel companion Chie was just about to safely arrive later in the afternoon. So, I efficiently took a fast 10-minute jeepney ride straight from the main town of Roxas to Pan-ay just to get to Sta. Monica Church.
Reflections of an Outlier
It was a bit gloomy and cloudy that morning, but fortunately, the threatened rain never happened. If anything, it just gave a highly somber mood, but provided a beautifully dramatic backdrop as I stared deeply at the Sta. Monica Church. The simple town casually went about its completely normal routine, with local students walking past going to their school and others peacefully attending to their own daily business.
Which suddenly got me quietly thinking and intensely wondering about mine. Am I really fully serious about dedicating my life to traveling? Yes, definitely. The raw thrill of safely seeing these unfamiliar places, touching ancient landmarks, and even getting up close to a bell that is officially the biggest in Asia strongly presents a uniquely profound feeling of sorts. There is a deeply satisfying sense of personal victory amid reaching each new destination, accompanied by a sigh of good, gracious relief at successfully doing so.
I sat quietly there, strongly wishing I could openly share the deeply resonant experience with someone. But in doing so, I suddenly realized it was the strong, silent walls of the Sta. Monica Church—and the rich, uncorrupted history of the town of Pan-ay—that had actually become the active subject of generosity toward me. Even for just a brief, passing moment on that one January afternoon, it gracefully gave me something highly profound that is totally worth remembering for a very long time.
When I finally had enough of completely savoring the place, I sat comfortably near the road and waited patiently for a jeepney going back to Roxas City. As the local townsfolk passed by with a simple, respectful nod of their heads and an incredibly accommodating smile, I felt deeply at home in a single instant.
All of a sudden, the distant idea of permanently retiring from a highly hectic life in the big city felt like something to truly look forward to. This seemingly sleepy municipality and its famously bolshy church bell might just easily add up to the long list of quiet places I would be deeply willing to settle into someday. Whether it's for retirement or just seeking refuge from plain burnout from the toxic norms of modern life, I could safely rest my head knowing I effectively have a long list of cultural safety nets and places to comfortably re-settle into when that specific day finally comes.
It was almost 2:00 PM, and Chie's plane was just about to land safely in an hour. A kind local told me that I could efficiently take a tricycle directly back to Roxas City for only 15.00 pesos. I quickly hailed a trike back to Roxas, riding recklessly on the back side by actively standing up on the rear step. As the cool rush of wind pounced beautifully on my face, I looked deeply at the stunning, open countryside and was hopelessly smitten with a profound feeling that this is exactly what I would love to do for the absolute rest of my life.
