Letter From Manila In a quiet nook in Manila, granddad runs a no-rules community library

Setting up an open-air library in his home's driveway is Mang Nanie's attempt to get people reading and reignite his country's love for books.

- Mara Cepeda

MANILA - The first thing that caught my eye was the perfect absence of order, a jumbled mess that oddly felt like home. In a quiet corner in Makati city, close to the Philippine financial district's towering skyscrapers and gnarly traffic, I stumbled upon my slice of heaven: an open-air library with no membership fees or late-return penalties — just piles of books stacked on rusted shelves or heaped higgledy-piggledy in old wooden crates, along the driveway to Mr Hernando Guanlao's two-storey dwelling.

Before long, I was transported back to my childhood - squatting comfortably and elbow deep in a stack of paperback novels, eyes scanning the titles and debating what to read first.

In the corner of my eye, a spritely, elderly man with a shock of white hair watched with approval and a knowing smile. "That box of books was just donated... It seems to be waiting for you," said the 73-year-old unofficial neighbourhood librarian, known affectionately as Mang (Uncle) Nanie.

The book lover's dreamscape, spanning the driveway and the exterior walls of the old house, runs the gamut from self-help guides to sci-fi fantasy. When it rains, the books outside are protected with plastic sheets. In the covered garage area, there are many more books awaiting readers.

All are welcome to browse at Mang Nanie's library and take any number of books home. On an afternoon, the place is calm, yet lively with murmurs of conversation and rustling pages from a dozen visitors. These include street children seeking a quiet refuge, college students looking for second-hand textbooks and collectors in search of elusive volumes on the occult.

A LIBRARY IS BORN