Beyond the sole: 58 years of mastery in the hands of Tatay Oly

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MANILA, Philippines — When you step into the city of Marikina, it is impossible not to notice at least two to three shoe stores lining each street. One can hear the rhythmic taps of a shoemaker’s hammers, the distinct scent of leather and glue and different footwear lined up in a row in front of their stores. Hence, Marikina is known as the “Shoe Capital of the Philippines.” Cobblers in Marikina do more than just make shoes. For Marikina shoemakers, shoe-making is a ritual — a ritual of precision, meticulous craftsmanship and one marked by strict standards in choosing the right materials.

The birth of Filipino shoemakers

Marikina is not just built on solid ground and infrastructure. The city was built by the calloused hands of the shoemakers who not only shaped the local economy but also helped shape the cultural identity of the Philippines.

The city’s shoe-making industry started way back in 1887, the year when Marikina’s shoemaking industry began to thrive through Don Laureano “Kapitan Moy” Guevarra’s curiosity and persistence. He is known for being the founder and the father of the Marikina Shoe Industry and also served the people of Marikina as the municipal captain while being acknowledged for helping manufacture the first pair of shoes in Marikina in 1887.

By the time he died at the age of 40 on Dec. 30, 1891, there were already multiple shoe stores in the city.

However, when imported footwear flooded the market in the late 20th century, Marikina’s industry took a sharp hit. Since buying online and cheaper footwear was so easy, many factories closed and many artisans left the trade. Yet Marikina’s spirit as the vital center of shoemaking in the Philippines did not falter. Local shoemakers shifted from mass production to smaller-scale, artisanal manufacturing. But amidst global market pressures and other hurdles, local shoemakers in Marikina still produce affordable yet high-quality shoes. Not only did the transition preserve the essence of craftsmanship, it is also more eco-friendly and ethical as they avoid mass production compared to fast fashion.

Until today, Marikina remains the city of shoemakers.

The pride and inspiration of Marikina

In a residential street somewhere in Marikina stands the home of one of its finest shoe artisans, Rolando “Tatay Oly” Santos. He has been a shoemaker since 1958, inheriting the craft from his father when Marikina was still cementing its reputation as the shoe capital of the Philippines. For 67 years, he has made a wide range of shoe styles, from men’s dress shoes, women’s heels, school shoes, and boots, depending on what the customer needs and wants.

Within these decades of experience, he has also made 15 shoes for former president Rodrigo Duterte. “Gusto niya kamay ko ang gagawa,” (He wants it to be my own handiwork), he said. At the height of his career, he even had trucks line up in front of his house, waiting for pairs of handcrafted shoes.

For Tatay Oly, Marikina shoes were always distinct from other shoes because of the high-quality materials and expert craftsmanship put into them, while keeping them at an affordable price. “Totoong may matibay na sapatos, totoong may mahina,” (It is true that there are durable shoes, and then there are weak ones) he said, contrasting Marikina-made shoes with mass-produced footwear. His shoes were meant to last, not just to sell.

Shoemaking was not just a livelihood. It was his family’s backbone. Tatay Oly raised eight children through the craft. Even with limited earnings, he managed to send two of them to college — an achievement he considers his life’s proudest success. However, he didn’t want his children to inherit the craft since he didn’t want them to share the same “fate” as his: low income, tedious work and no certainty in the future.

As age caught up with him, his eyesight weakened, his hands became too weak for the craft and injuries became common when he worked. Tasks that once took hours now take days, even weeks. Yet, shoemaking is the only skill he knows. Tatay Oly did not finish school, and at his age, there are no alternative sources of income. Even food has become a daily concern for him and his wife.

Despite decades of contribution to the Marikina shoe industry, Tatay Oly receives no pension and no support from either the local or national government. He has written to the mayor, he said, but nothing came of it. Sometimes he receives invitations to events, but to Tatay Oly, it’s all superficial. “Publicity lang ‘yan,” (It’s all for publicity) he says, as it is not what he needs right now.

Still, Tatay Oly refuses to raise his products’ prices. He insists that his shoes should remain affordable to Filipinos. In the past, he used to give handcrafted pairs to those who could not pay and to those who really needed them — a genuine act of generosity not documented in any program.

A legacy and life left behind

Tatay Oly’s commitment and passion for shoemaking have remained unchanged over time. When asked why his craft remains steady despite the dying culture, he attributes it to the fact that he never compromised. He never compromised his craftsmanship by using the exact materials the design demands without substitution for the sake of profit. He also never compromised his belief that a businessman should do business with integrity and honesty.

To Tatay Oly, the decline of shoemaking is not just in the economic aspect but a shift in the Filipino spirit. “Maraming pumipihit, maraming mas gustong sumikat,” (Many change course, many would rather be famous). Though he sees it as a problem, he has another message to those who wish to follow the path of shoemaking — a warning against ego, which is never letting pride take over, because that is what could potentially destroy people.

Although he was never fully compensated for his craft even during the times people proudly presented him as Marikina’s pride, Tatay Oly is still defined by his grueling work ethic: “Wala sa bokabularyo ko ‘yung kumikita ako nang ‘di bumabanat” (It’s not in my vocabulary to earn without labor).

Today, Tatay Oly continues to sell handcrafted shoes for prices that are arguably too low — prices which barely reflect the 58 years of mastery they represent. His legacy is not just in the leather and shoes he makes, but in the values he upholds, specifically the enduring spirit of service. As long as he has life and strength, he will never forget to help. It’s a part of him no amount of money can strip away.

That’s why Tatay Oly is a living testament to the pride Marikina holds in its skilled artisans and shoemakers. His calloused hands and weathered feet do more than just craft shoes; they preserve a disappearing art. His works will forever establish an identity built upon the meticulous precision of mastering the art of shoemaking, because to witness his process is to see the city’s history come to life. — Matt Niones, Ava Panopio, Denise Reboroso and Drew Tan

(This story was contributed by third-year journalism students from the Polytechnic University of the Philippines).