More than a decade ago, as a tourism student conducting research in Libmanan, Camarines Sur, I spent days visiting and documenting ancestral houses as part of a study on the town’s heritage resources and their potential for cultural tourism.
At the time, it felt largely academic. We photographed facades, recorded architectural details, and gathered stories about the families who once called these houses home. Like many students, I thought I was simply completing a requirement.

I never imagined that years later those photographs and notes would become records of something that no longer exists.
Earlier this year, I returned to Libmanan through the Hernandez Travel: Libmanan Heritage Tour organized by the UNC Museum. Curious to revisit some of the heritage sites we had documented years ago, I looked for one house in particular—the Nacianceno Ancestral House.
But this time, it was gone.
In its place stood a newly constructed convenience store.
Built in 1927 by Don Frank Nacianceno, the house stood during a transformative period in Philippine history. Don Frank belonged to the first generations of Filipino educators shaped by the American public education system. Beginning his career as a teacher in 1916, he later served as principal and district supervisor in several towns across Camarines Sur, including Libmanan, Nabua, and Baao.
The Nacianceno Ancestral House was more than a private residence. Historical accounts note that teachers and school administrators assigned to Libmanan once stayed there, making the house closely associated with the growth of public education in the municipality during the early twentieth century.
Architecturally, it reflected the changing tastes of its era. While retaining traditional Filipino wooden construction, it incorporated Neoclassical and Art Deco influences that became popular during the American period. Its wide verandas, concrete arches, decorative balustrades, wooden upper floor, and distinctive facade made it one of Libmanan’s recognizable landmarks.
For nearly a century, the house quietly witnessed generations pass by its doors. It survived changing administrations, economic shifts, natural disasters, and evolving communities.
Until it did not.
Standing on the site where it once stood, I found myself reflecting on the importance of heritage documentation.
When we documented the house years ago, we were simply gathering information for research. Looking back now, those photographs, notes, and records have become far more valuable than we ever anticipated.
Documentation cannot stop a building from being demolished. It cannot replace what has been lost. But it ensures that a structure does not disappear completely from history.
The Nacianceno Ancestral House may no longer stand today, yet through photographs, research, and the stories that remain, it continues to tell us something about Libmanan’s past.
Its loss also reminds us to look more closely at what still remains.
While the Nacianceno House has disappeared, several ancestral houses continue to stand across Libmanan, each carrying stories that reflect different chapters of the municipality’s history.
Among them is the Fortuno Ancestral House in Libod 1, built in 1920 by Don Timoteo Fortuno, former Municipal Treasurer of Libmanan. With its bahay na bato-inspired architecture, imposing staircase, capiz windows, wooden interiors, and history as home to one of the town’s earliest drugstores, the structure reflects both civic service and economic prosperity during the American period.
In Libod 2 stands the Miraflores-Callos Ancestral House, built in 1951 by Carmen Miraflores and Angeles Diaz. The house preserves the story of the Miraflores family, migrants from Iloilo who became part of Libmanan’s social and economic life. Its preserved interiors, religious images, capiz windows, and family heirlooms reveal a strong sense of memory, faith, and rootedness.


Nearby is the Miraflores-Perpetua Ancestral House, rebuilt in 1952 from an earlier Spanish-period wooden residence. Its American-inspired architecture, colored glass windows, family emblem, and long connection to generations of educators reflect the aspirations of post-war Libmanan.
The Miraflores-Zaldivar Ancestral House, also located in Libod 2, represents the interconnected histories of the Miraflores, Zaldivar, and Ursua families. Built in the 1950s, it combines modern American influences with traditional Filipino architectural elements such as capiz windows, calado panels, wooden interiors, and Machuca tiles. Today, it continues to serve the community as the local office of the Department of Agrarian Reform.


The Villaluz Ancestral House in Libod 1, built in 1937 by Dr. Gabriel Villaluz Sr., reflects another dimension of Libmanan’s history. Associated with medicine, governance, and public service, the house produced two municipal mayors and once welcomed prominent civic and political figures near the town plaza. Its commanding location, grand staircase, and Art Deco-influenced Neoclassical design continue to make it one of Libmanan’s architectural landmarks.
The Mariano Ancestral House in Fundado-Taban was originally constructed by Don Agaton Aureus and Doña Lorenza Ibarra Aureus as a huge wooden house. Subsequent residents were Doña Maria Ibarra Aureus (daughter of Don Agaton) and her husband, Don Wenceslao Mercado, a Libmanan war hero and public servant. Later residents were Doña Juliana Aureus Mercado (daughter of Don Wenceslao) the wife of Don Alejandro Rili, who served as Vice Mayor. Remodeled with stucco exteriors and new windows before WWII, it was inherited by Mrs Salvadora Rili Mariano, daughter of Don Alejandro Rili.


Together, these houses demonstrate that Libmanan’s heritage is not confined to a single structure. They are physical records of public service, migration, education, medicine, entrepreneurship, faith, and family legacy—stories that helped shape the municipality we know today.
Yet their continued existence also raises an important question: how can these structures remain relevant in the present while ensuring their survival in the future?
Reimagining Heritage Houses Through Adaptive Reuse
One of the greatest challenges facing heritage conservation today is sustainability.
Many ancestral houses survive not because they are legally protected, but because they continue to serve a purpose. Once a structure becomes vacant, neglected, or financially burdensome to maintain, it becomes vulnerable to deterioration, abandonment, or eventual demolition.


This is where adaptive reuse becomes an important part of the conversation.
Adaptive reuse refers to the practice of giving historic structures new functions while preserving their architectural and cultural significance. Rather than treating heritage buildings as static monuments, adaptive reuse allows them to evolve and continue serving contemporary communities.
Across the Philippines and around the world, historic buildings have found new life as hotels, bed-and-breakfasts, restaurants, cafés, museums, libraries, galleries, creative hubs, and cultural centers. Many of today’s most successful heritage destinations were once old residences, schools, convents, warehouses, or government buildings that were thoughtfully restored and reimagined for modern use.


The value of adaptive reuse extends beyond preservation. It creates opportunities for tourism, entrepreneurship, education, and community engagement. It generates economic activity, encourages investment in historic districts, and allows heritage structures to remain relevant to future generations.
More importantly, adaptive reuse allows people to experience history rather than simply observe it.
A heritage house transformed into a museum becomes a place of learning. A former residence converted into a café becomes a gathering space. A restored ancestral home functioning as a library, hotel, bed-and-breakfast, or cultural center invites visitors to engage with history in a more meaningful and tangible way.


In this sense, heritage conservation is no longer simply about protecting old walls, windows, and roofs. It becomes about ensuring that historic structures continue to contribute to community life.
For municipalities like Libmanan, adaptive reuse presents an opportunity to bridge the past and the future. Rather than standing as silent reminders of history, these houses can become active participants in shaping the town’s cultural and economic development.
Because when heritage is given a function, it is also given a future.
The Potential of the Roldan-Morales Ancestral House

Among Libmanan’s remaining ancestral houses, one structure immediately stands out—not only for its history but also for its potential.
The Roldan-Morales Ancestral House, built in 1937 by Rev. Fr. Mariano Roldan for his parents, Don Francisco Roldan and Doña Agapita Roldan y Mercado, remains one of the most architecturally distinctive structures in the municipality.
During the Japanese occupation, it served as a garrison of the Imperial Japanese Forces. Decades later, it housed Korean engineers involved in rebuilding the Philippine National Railways bridge.
Its Neoclassical architecture, Art Deco influences, geometric forms, symbolic bird figures, decorative details, and imposing tower give it a character unlike any other building in town.
Today, the house still stands as a reminder of Libmanan’s rich cultural heritage.
Yet beyond preserving it as a landmark, one cannot help but imagine what it could become.
Walking through the property, I found myself imagining a small heritage museum occupying one wing of the house, telling the stories of Libmanan’s prominent families, wartime experiences, and cultural traditions. Another section could serve as a library or reading room housing local records and educational resources.

Its spacious interiors could accommodate a café featuring local delicacies, while exhibition areas could showcase the work of local artists, photographers, and historians. The property could host lectures, workshops, cultural programs, and heritage tours.
Such a concept would not only preserve the building itself. It would create reasons for people to visit, learn, and engage with Libmanan’s heritage.
Across the country, heritage structures once threatened by neglect have been successfully transformed into vibrant destinations. Their continued relevance demonstrates that preservation and development are not opposing forces. When done thoughtfully, they can complement one another.
The same principle can be applied to the Roldan-Morales Ancestral House—not by turning it into a replica of another heritage site, but by allowing it to evolve into a space that continues to serve the community while honoring its architectural identity.
Between Memory and Possibility
The story of Libmanan’s ancestral houses exists somewhere between memory and possibility.

On one hand, there is the loss of the Nacianceno Ancestral House—a reminder that heritage, once gone, can never truly be replaced.
On the other hand, there are the houses that remain: the Fortuno, Miraflores-Callos, Miraflores-Perpetua, Miraflores-Zaldivar, Villaluz, and Roldan-Morales ancestral houses. They remind us that there is still time to act.
This is where Republic Act No. 10066, or the National Cultural Heritage Act of 2009, becomes especially relevant. The law recognizes the importance of safeguarding the country’s cultural heritage and encourages the conservation, protection, and promotion of significant cultural properties. It also empowers local government units to identify and protect heritage resources within their communities.
However, legislation alone cannot preserve heritage. Effective conservation requires local heritage ordinances, community participation, responsible stewardship from property owners, and a shared recognition that these structures hold value beyond the land on which they stand.
After all, heritage conservation is not simply about saving old buildings. It is about protecting the stories, identities, and collective memories attached to them.
Perhaps this is where Libmanan’s heritage story now stands: between houses already lost and houses still waiting to be reimagined.
The most sustainable heritage structures are not necessarily those that are merely preserved.
They are the ones that continue to be lived in, visited, appreciated, and given new purpose by the communities around them.
Perhaps the best way to preserve a heritage structure is not to keep it frozen in time, but to give it a future worth living in.
Editors’ notes
The header is a montage of images reimagining the Roldan-Morales Ancestral House as a heritage museum with a library and a cafe. The author used AI tools to generate the digital images featured in this article. The historical writings and photos of the ancestral houses (except where indicated) are primarily based on the works of the late Pepe Umali that he assiduously compiled in the FB page of Libmanan Historico Cultural Society. This opinion piece and the accompanying digital images are used merely to demonstrate in theory the potential value of adaptive reuse in the repurposing heritage structures for modern functions while preserving their architectural, historical and cultural integrity — with due respect to the rightful owners of these properties.

About the author
Kyna De Castro is a writer, content creator, and tourism advocate currently working with the City Government of Naga’s Investment and Tourism Promotions Office (ITPO). She is the content creator of Kyna’s Whereabouts, a platform dedicated to sharing stories on culture, heritage, travel, and local communities.
