The three buses first transported us to the shrine of Gen. Miguel Malvar, the last Filipino general to surrender under the Americans. The first thing I saw was a monument of Miguel Malvar shining under the sun, carrying a gun and brandishing a sword. He looked dignified and serious, as if the fate of the Revolution depended on him. Several majestic trees which surrounded the monument and a life-sized picture of a grim Malvar greeted me as I passed through an archway.

Several historical items and memoirs of the revolution were displayed on white boards. The revolutionary map was also displayed, showing all the provinces which rose in rebellion during the Spanish regime. Fearless and daring Malvar was feared by the Spanish army. Like a pirate, one of his tactics was to execute a surprise attack which threw the Spaniards into confusion. He really must have been one heck of a military officer.

The general’s personal items were enclosed in a glass case. I was particularly interested in his small diary, which can hardly be read because of its faded script. Even though I could not decipher the old Tagalog, I knew that there would come a time when somebody will be able to read his story of love and heroism for his country.

I was strolling by some dusty records when someone, the caretaker I suppose, announced that we only had 10 minutes left. I was genuinely surprised because I thought, that there was no time limit. Unnerved by the announcement, students quickly walked out of the exhibit area, writing last-minute notes and taking pictures of the monument. After giving the monument a nifty salute, I ran back to the waiting bus. Not a sweet good-bye, I thought, settling down on my cozy seat inside the bus.

Our next stop was the Mabini shrine. It was just like the Malvar shrine, but in a way much more exciting and mysterious. The exhibit area was kind of dark and there was sculpture which seemed to be looking straight at me. Mabini’s wooden coffin, his writings and various medals and certificates were displayed. Before leaving the well-decorated exhibit, I took a last look at Mabini’s coffin, where he once lay, and saw that it was covered in rotting leather. A sudden strange, spine-tingling shudder passed down my spine.

The next destination was Casa de Segunda, the home of Segunda Katigbak, popularly known as Rizal’s first love. The house at first sight, looked like any other house on that side of the street, but I quickly sensed that there was more to it than meets the eye.

The large house earned its nickname "Bahay na Bato," because of the large rock slabs it was built from. According to the tour guide, the rocks had to be hauled down all the way from a nearby mountain just to be placed in the middle of Lipa. The Katigbaks were no doubt rich, as I later learned, from the large and lavish living room to their airy, comfortable bedrooms. We also learned that the house actually had a ventilation shaft in every room to expel heat. It’s cheaper and more effective than air conditioners. Funny, though, I discovered a computer store in one of the rooms. What was it doing in a historical site?

There were many pictures of the house’s owners, particularly Segunda Katigbak’s parents. I admired some paintings, particularly one that depicted the Lipa cathedral. Small antique items, like the early version of the plantsa could be seen in old cabinets , along with some lockets and earrings. Imagine, these things lasted older than the lives of people who have used it a hundred years ago.

The guide, who is a great-granddaughter of Segunda, told us that all the Katigbaks from Segunda’s family lived in this house and still do. Some parts of the house had been damaged when she moved in 10 years ago. Because of the frequent visits by tourists and students, she renovated the house and restored its old details.