The trip started with a budget airline having a rock-bottom seat sale. After scanning all the available destinations on the website, one location caught our curiosity, a place that neither I nor my friends had been to but had often heard about: Zamboanga City. Hardly a top-of-mind destination for local travelers, it seemed like an exciting proposition. And so plans were made and tickets were booked.

We arrived on an early June morning at a sleepy Zamboanga City, wet from the rain that had followed us from Manila and then passed us at some point—we felt the flight turbulence even through our sleep—to welcome us down south. Armed with a small but detailed list of enthusiastic recommendations from a Zamboangeña friend, we set out to check what the place has to offer.

First stop: the satti.

Zamboanga’s satti is a curious interpretation of the Malaysian barbecue dish sate. For one, there’s the difference in spelling. But whereas the latter is served mainly dry with an optional sauce, the artificially red pieces of either chicken or beef satti are doused in a red-orange sweet curry soup that has some heat to it—much like the dipping sauce for street fishballs—and are then served with pusô or rice wrapped in banana leaves. A Muslim fare, satti is a very popular breakfast item in Zamboanga. As we sit in a corner of the local eatery Johnny’s, trying to figure out what the sauce tastes like, diners around us eagerly finish off their plates, topping off the bits of grilled meat that are already swimming in sauce with even more sauce.

The savory-sweet flavor profile seems to be something Chavacanos enjoy, based on their local dishes: satti, kurma, pianggang. Add to that spicy, as well. “That’s the irony in the firebrand taste among Zamboangeños,” journalist Penelope Endozo says. Endozo was born and raised in Zamboanga City and is now a writer in Manila. “Muslim food in particular is spicy: satti, laksah, tamal. We are also known for our paella and kare-kare, which we call mole.”

The variety in Zamboanga’s cuisine is proof of the city’s melting pot status. “We’ve got Christian, Muslim, Yakan, Visayan, and Subanen cultures in place,” Endozo says. “It just so happens that the mestizo culture got highlighted, but each subculture is as beautiful as the rest.” Old structures around the city square also reflect the different cultural influences in the local architecture.

Another highlighted aspect of the place is its security issue, fueled by media reports of clan wars and hit men gunning down targets in plain sight. However, “the place is safe,” Endozo stresses. “Media just gave Zamboanga a bad mileage, and that’s one of the reasons why I wanted to become a journalist: I felt that there was a disparity on what’s reported and what’s actually happening here.”

She isn’t alone in her stance about the general misconception regarding Zamboanga City. Richard, a Department of Tourism – Zamboanga employee, explains, “When something happens in Zamboanga del Norte or in del Sur, it gets reported as an event in Zamboanga, which people think refers to the city only. It has happened that two warring groups in Basilan would give chase until they get here and shoot at each other, but they aren’t part of the local community; it just so happened that they got to each other here.”

Chavacanos are staunch in reassuring visitors of the safety of the city, happy to talk up all the great spots and dishes their place has to offer—a spicy and sweet defense of their beloved hometown. Even before he introduced himself to us, local traffic enforcer Edwin Marcial had already whipped out his mobile phone to show us his footage of Zamboanga’s Merloquet Falls. “Look, friend, you should have been there, it’s beautiful. You should also see the Pasonanca Park and try the marang (a sweet durian-like fruit without the stench), which is available only here.” He echoes Richard’s sentiment: “As you can see, Zamboanga is peaceful, orderly.”

And from what we’ve observed during our trip, it is. While downtown Zamboanga can give Manila’s Recto a run for its chaotic energy (at the city square, a billboard commemorates the 98 victims that had been hit by stray bullets since January), it gets more pleasantly suburbian as we get farther away. In fact, a 10-minute jeepney ride from the square brings us to a strip of residential homes that is as quiet as in any other small town in the country, except for one remarkable stop: the Alavar Seafood Restaurant.

Alavar’s curacha alone makes any trip to Zamboanga worth it. Despite being named after the cockroach, this deep-sea crustacean dish is heaven on a plate: The sauce, made from rich crab fat mixed with sweet coconut milk (and the proverbial secret spices), smothers half of a giant hairy crab that’s so fleshy, even the most hoity-toity diner would have no qualms foregoing utensils to get every last tasty bit. But truly, the sauce is the star of the show; even rice would taste divine soaked in it.

In Zamboanga City, one can find Jollibee, McDonald’s, KFC, Dunkin’ Donuts; one can find the ubiquitous franchise malls. There is even a hip commercial strip on the corner of Governor Camins and Canelar Moret near the airport where the younger crowd seems to prefer to hang out. But the establishments that are already so familiar to us visitors didn’t interest us as much as the local offerings for enjoyment did.

Paseo de Zamboanga, reminiscent of Manila Baywalk with its eateries and live bands, adds its own twist to nighttime entertainment with the Gyrating Musical Dancing Fountain that changes lights and water patterns to ABBA hits. Halo-halo is transformed into the knickerbocker, a mixture of fruits and jelly bits topped with ice cream. Boiled fresh crabs are available at the great Santa Cruz Island, perfect for a midday meal spent gazing at the view of a pink beach set against the blue sea.

On one hand, we wish for more people to give Zamboanga a chance. On the other, we wish it keeps its simple pleasures pristine, unsullied by too many tourists. But with Zamboangeños’ pride over their local resources and rich culture, as well as their protective stance over their beloved city’s reputation, we believe they’d know how to weed out the opportunists from the genuinely curious visitors. After all, they have that sweet/spicy dichotomy down pat.  

This story appeared in Garage Magazine’s October 2012 issue.