The strange and sacred collide in the city's most mystical district

Here, devout Catholics can pray to the divine one moment and pay for a love potion the next.

- Mara Cepeda

MANILA — Just a few steps from a church that houses the famed Black Nazarene, a dark-skinned image of Jesus Christ believed to be miraculous, I found myself seated before a fortune teller with a wild mane of frizzy, gray hair.

The 74-year-old has read tarot cards for decades, having lived in this central Manila district called Quiapo since she was a little girl. She laid her deck of worn, graying cards gently atop a fan made of straw resting on her lap and asked me to pick the ones that called out to me.

Around us, the clatter of passing jeepneys mingled with the low hum of church music drifting out from the Minor Basilica and National Shrine of Jesus Nazareno, more simply known to most Filipinos as Quiapo Church.

"You'll have twins," she said, her eyes narrowing while mine widened in surprise. "And two husbands. The first will make you cry, but don't cry for men. Let them cry for you."

She also told me I would build a house, start a business and that money would come, so long as I guarded my heart.

I thanked her, paid the 200 peso (S$4.50) fee and walked away feeling amused. How can I even live a life with two husbands in the Philippines, where divorce isn't legal?

Still, a part of me clung to her promises of good fortune in my finances. In Quiapo, even the most improbable predictions can feel strangely possible.

Catholics traditionally frown upon superstitions, believing them to be a sin and akin to losing faith in God's power. Yet, for many Filipino Catholics like me, faith doesn't always follow clean lines.

And so we feel at home in Quiapo, a place that makes space for both the Catholic faith and occult practices. It is where devout Catholics light candles for miracles, just steps away from stalls selling amulets, oils and whispered cures.