Lent in Another Life
By this time, in another life, I should be looking forward to a long vacation either to our family farm in Mindoro or another beach location, just like everyone else in the country. Or more likely, I would opt to stay at my parent’s house to observe the Holy Week where we would have front and center view to the many rituals that make up the holiest week for the Catholics. Another life, of course is my life BNY – Before New York.
Predominantly Catholic, many public and private offices close on Maundy Thursday and Good Friday in observance of the culmination of the Lenten season. Many people start their exodus out of the city as early as Palm Sunday weekend but the mass of humanity would fill the bus terminals, airports and seaports all through the week. Often by the morning of Maundy Thursday, Manila and Makati would literally be a ghost town. And it would be my favorite time to drive when I would zip from Makati to Cavite City in 30 minutes.
There is so much in terms of memories related to Holy Week that I take with me to New York. There is the monotonous singing of the passion of Christ emanating from the PA system of the Catholic Church a block away. Its repetitive tune would eventually drown any other music in my head and then coupled by the intense heat wave that always descends onto the country on this particular week and the unpredictability of the electric power, the last thing in my head would probably be thoughts of holiness.
Good Friday begins with a procession of about 30 to 40 men and women with their faces covered and flogging their own backs with tiles attached to a whip until their backs bled. This would often pass by the front of my parent's house where I would watch it from my bedroom window ont he second floor because I am too squeamish. Towards the back of the procession, three crosses or more are dragged on the concrete streets by robed men with covered faces. There were many stories why people self-flagellate, often for religious reasons, others as a ‘panata’ or a pledge made after a prayer is answered – often the recuperation of a very sick loved one.
By noon, there would be a staging of the last hours of Christ and culminating at three o’clock in the afternoon with his crucifixion. There was a year when our town had a grand theater presentation of the Passion of Christ and many of the main characters were played by the people in the neighborhood. To cool off from the searing weather, my family had sat by the front porch praying more for a breeze than anything else when a motorcycle rolled in front of our house and the driver, a costumed bearded actor, presumably Christ inquired about the location of the local elementary school. About 2 minutes later after he drove off, a jeep with three men, costumed as Roman soldiers stopped in front of our house and asked the same question. We found it hilarious that both Christ and his captors had gotten lost on the way to the execution and we had become part of the general programme. A few minutes later they are reunited and they walked the street in front of our house again, this time in their role as persecutor and persecuted. It became even more hilarious when we found out later that children cried after Judas had hung himself on a tree (guilty reaction to turning his back on Jesus for the price of pieces of gold). Let me explain - the actor who played the part was the man who would play clown and do tricks for kids at birthday parties so imagine their horror seeing him ‘hang himself’ as Judas. In the evening, another procession of the dead Christ marched almost noiselessly down the street.
It is weird that because 81% of its population is Catholic, there is a general conclusion that everyone observes Lent. Aside from all offices closing its doors from Thursdays, the many malls that dot the country, movie theatres, all media – press, the radio and TV, are also shut down. If you landed from another country on Good Friday it wouldn’t be difficult to come to the conclusion that the city just had been annihilated by some nuclear catastrophe. So what do people do when there is literally nothing to do? We eat. Due to the hot weather, we made halo-halo, guinumis and sago gulaman. In Cavite City, we also have a one of kind kakanin that you can add to the sago gulaman and it looks like tiny broken pieces of cooked spaghetti. They call it chin-chao.
On Easter Sunday there is another procession called the ‘salubong’. Held before dawn, there are actually two processions -one with the statue of the mourning Mother Mary and another with the risen Christ. These two processions converge in one location where an angel (usually a child hung from a rope cherubically costumed) hovers over the mother and then removes her black veil to symbolize the end of her grieving and the end of Lent.
And so everything returns to normal when the mass of humanity floods back into the city. By Monday morning, traffic once again becomes an excruciating experience, people though relieved from a long weekend of gallivanting, sunburned and relaxed would be pleasant at work for a while and then like everything else, slides back to a normal mode of whining, complaining and backbiting. The television shows come back on with the dance numbers and the gag comedies and then of course, politicians start lying and corrupting again. So what was Lent observance for?
I am sure that once upon a time Lenten observance had much more meaning to it. Perhaps in some far off province it continues to be of religious significance but with the modernization of the urban areas, in my last years in the Philippines, Lent had just become an excuse for people to get off school or work and to take a vacation.
Another tradition lost to modern times but a chance to be with family.
Predominantly Catholic, many public and private offices close on Maundy Thursday and Good Friday in observance of the culmination of the Lenten season. Many people start their exodus out of the city as early as Palm Sunday weekend but the mass of humanity would fill the bus terminals, airports and seaports all through the week. Often by the morning of Maundy Thursday, Manila and Makati would literally be a ghost town. And it would be my favorite time to drive when I would zip from Makati to Cavite City in 30 minutes.
There is so much in terms of memories related to Holy Week that I take with me to New York. There is the monotonous singing of the passion of Christ emanating from the PA system of the Catholic Church a block away. Its repetitive tune would eventually drown any other music in my head and then coupled by the intense heat wave that always descends onto the country on this particular week and the unpredictability of the electric power, the last thing in my head would probably be thoughts of holiness.
Good Friday begins with a procession of about 30 to 40 men and women with their faces covered and flogging their own backs with tiles attached to a whip until their backs bled. This would often pass by the front of my parent's house where I would watch it from my bedroom window ont he second floor because I am too squeamish. Towards the back of the procession, three crosses or more are dragged on the concrete streets by robed men with covered faces. There were many stories why people self-flagellate, often for religious reasons, others as a ‘panata’ or a pledge made after a prayer is answered – often the recuperation of a very sick loved one.
By noon, there would be a staging of the last hours of Christ and culminating at three o’clock in the afternoon with his crucifixion. There was a year when our town had a grand theater presentation of the Passion of Christ and many of the main characters were played by the people in the neighborhood. To cool off from the searing weather, my family had sat by the front porch praying more for a breeze than anything else when a motorcycle rolled in front of our house and the driver, a costumed bearded actor, presumably Christ inquired about the location of the local elementary school. About 2 minutes later after he drove off, a jeep with three men, costumed as Roman soldiers stopped in front of our house and asked the same question. We found it hilarious that both Christ and his captors had gotten lost on the way to the execution and we had become part of the general programme. A few minutes later they are reunited and they walked the street in front of our house again, this time in their role as persecutor and persecuted. It became even more hilarious when we found out later that children cried after Judas had hung himself on a tree (guilty reaction to turning his back on Jesus for the price of pieces of gold). Let me explain - the actor who played the part was the man who would play clown and do tricks for kids at birthday parties so imagine their horror seeing him ‘hang himself’ as Judas. In the evening, another procession of the dead Christ marched almost noiselessly down the street.
It is weird that because 81% of its population is Catholic, there is a general conclusion that everyone observes Lent. Aside from all offices closing its doors from Thursdays, the many malls that dot the country, movie theatres, all media – press, the radio and TV, are also shut down. If you landed from another country on Good Friday it wouldn’t be difficult to come to the conclusion that the city just had been annihilated by some nuclear catastrophe. So what do people do when there is literally nothing to do? We eat. Due to the hot weather, we made halo-halo, guinumis and sago gulaman. In Cavite City, we also have a one of kind kakanin that you can add to the sago gulaman and it looks like tiny broken pieces of cooked spaghetti. They call it chin-chao.
On Easter Sunday there is another procession called the ‘salubong’. Held before dawn, there are actually two processions -one with the statue of the mourning Mother Mary and another with the risen Christ. These two processions converge in one location where an angel (usually a child hung from a rope cherubically costumed) hovers over the mother and then removes her black veil to symbolize the end of her grieving and the end of Lent.
And so everything returns to normal when the mass of humanity floods back into the city. By Monday morning, traffic once again becomes an excruciating experience, people though relieved from a long weekend of gallivanting, sunburned and relaxed would be pleasant at work for a while and then like everything else, slides back to a normal mode of whining, complaining and backbiting. The television shows come back on with the dance numbers and the gag comedies and then of course, politicians start lying and corrupting again. So what was Lent observance for?
I am sure that once upon a time Lenten observance had much more meaning to it. Perhaps in some far off province it continues to be of religious significance but with the modernization of the urban areas, in my last years in the Philippines, Lent had just become an excuse for people to get off school or work and to take a vacation.
Another tradition lost to modern times but a chance to be with family.