MY HOLY WEEK IN GENERAL SANTOS CITY, PHILIPPINES

by: MisS VictoriA DaviD
 

(Photo courtesy of joycarol.com)

When I was young!

My childhood memory is still very sharp, I can even recall what happened in our street during the Holy Week. We lived in a residential compound before, where most of my Father's siblings and their families were there too. The street is also a mini-compound as most of the homeowners are 'Kapampangans '.

Kapampangans or Pampangenos are the sixth largest Filipino Ethnolinguistic group that occupy the Central Luzon region in the Philippines. The province of Pampanga is their traditional homeland. They are devout Roman Catholic that display unique religious festivals. One of the most dramatic festivals that accompany an indigenous flavour is during  'Mal ay Aldo', which is the Kapampangan expression for the Holy Week.

(Photo courtesy of Google Image)

As we were given a few days break from school, that was prior to the festival. The street was temporarily closed for a week and a few days to all commercial vehicles as part of the preparation. Our elders built their plans for the event. These include the Shrine/Chapel, where the story of Christ is chanted in archaic Kapampangan.

I can still remember the highlight of the procession. A few men covered in blood due to self- flagellation. Their faces were covered with a piece of cloth and worn a wreath on their heads that was made of thorns. And, as this was a re-enactment of Christ' suffering, I saw a bare-footed man, who led the men covered in blood going to the Shrine. He carried on his shoulder a crucifix that was almost as twice as his height and weighs heavier than him.

(Photo courtesy of Google Image)

They stopped for awhile in front of the Shrine before they continued walking and suddenly, the gate of our compound was opened wide. Our elders welcomed the weary men and helped them in washing their bodies. The compound's parking ground was silhouetted in blood!

A car was parked outside, waiting for these men to get inside the car. Our elders guided them to the car as their faces were still covered with a cloth. A few of the elders, who owned motorcycles convoyed the car going to a clandestine place. A place where they revealed their true selves and their profiles remained very private.

It is not just the re-enactment that I can only store in my memory!

The joy of eating 'halo-halo' with my friends and relatives before noon time was a pleasurable memoir. This is a combination of crashed ice, cooked fruits, fruit jam, evaporated milk and sugar. Aside from that there was a special desert for a special occasion called 'Bibingka'. This dessert was prepared by my Aunt and she started baking it when the sun sets and sold to hungry visitors and bystanders. Her collapsible booth was just in front of our compound.

This dramatic event was passed onto my elders and is still happening every year in the Philippines. It is a traditional procession that allows people to witness and feel the 'pasion' (Christ' suffering).