Viernes Santo

My family (wife, kids, siblings, nieces, nephews, a few cousins) have been spending the Semana Santa in some other places in the Philippines. We regard the Holy Week as a time to bond with the family and an opportunity to travel together as Holy Week is the time when those working can take a leave from the office and those studying are already free from school.

This Semana Santa, we stayed in Iloilo. And therefore we had time to mingle with friends and relatives who were truly surprised to see us in Iloilo during this time. They thought we finally succumbed to the high cost of travel. And they were right.

But anyway, we had a swell time in Iloilo. To me, it’s not the place. The place just lends surprise and excitement to the bonding moments. To me, what’s important is that our family is together and enjoying.

The Santo Entierro or the dead body of Jesus Christ is the centerpiece of the Viernes Santo evening procession in Cabatuan. The santos is borne on the shoulders of the worshippers and paraded around the town. It is then displayed inside the church where religious groups do an around-the-clock vigil until the wee hours of Easter Sunday.

On Holy Friday, or Viernes Santo, we were in Cabatuan, about 25 kilometers north of Iloilo City. Cabatuan is one of the few towns in Iloilo that observes Viernes Santo with the traditional early morning procession to the kalbaryo which is about a kilometer from the poblacion. Along the route to the kalbaryo are makeshift altars depicting the fourteen stations of the cross which culminates with the gigantic cross atop the kalbaryo. The cross symbolizes the crucification of Jesus Christ on Mt. Calvary.

The kalbaryo is a high hill in Sitio Balic outside the poblacion of Cabatuan. It’s not an ordinary hill as it has a steep side. But somehow, the Semana Santa tradition to the promontory have sliced a footpath on the steep side which through the years had grown to a small dirt road that can accommodate a car or the carroza that brings the lifesize statue of the Nazarene halfway to the top of the hill.

It is a long climb to the top of the kalbaryo. But the breathtaking view from the top is worth the climb. Church authorities ensure that the worshippers are safe and a police assistance kiosk is also visible.

We arrived in Cabatuan already past 8:00am. And the tail-end of the procession had already reached the kalbaryo. We were supposed to do the Via Crucis but it was so hot so we took a tricycle to the kalbaryo. The kids were ecstatic as the last time they climbed the kalbaryo was years back. It seemed a new experience to them now.

Devotees were already on their way down when we reached the kalbaryo. Everybody was busy buying native delicacies, fruits, and even fresh fish. The foot of the kalbaryo became an instant tindahan. One would wonder whether the people were doing penance or enjoying the fiesta atmosphere. On our part, we were enjoying!

It is not just a season for penance. It is also a season for native mouth watering fruits; and the obiquitous displays of political posters. 

Semana Santa is vacation time to many. And here in the kalbaryo, a local would easily discern the visitors or a kababayan just arrived from somewhere. Local visitors may act like buki, or an ignorant newcomer, as they pointed to or oggled at common objects which could be new to them. Kababayans who just came from Manila wore the latest fashion - never mind if the fashion was not meant for a dusty and hot kalbaryo-climbing. They too were very verbal; and in Tagalog even, for everybody to hear, nevermind if the Tagalog sounded like Kinaray-a. Kababayans who just arrived from abroad toted with their flashy cameras aside from their expensive cellphones. Nevermind if they could take quality pictures with their miniature cellphones. They slang their cameras over their shoulders wherever they go, as if the cameras were part of their fashion statement. They wore rubber shoes with short pants cut above the knee. The last time I wore above-the-knee short pants was when I was in Boy Scouts.

There were only a few people going up, and fewer still lingered near the cross atop the kalbaryo. But at least, the few people made the view from the top less scary to the kids. The view was breathtaking and unhampered for kilometers. We saw the twin spires of the old Catholic church and the far mountains of the neighboring town of Maasin. When we descended, we bought ibos, kalamayhati, alupi, and betcho-betcho which the kids loved.

Native delicacies abound. After the tiresome walk and climb, the faithful gotta eat - this could be the bright thought of the local entrepreneurs. 

As in the past, we passed by the house of classmate Jocelyn M for breakfast of sotanghon soup, puto, and tsokolate. It was also a time to meet other classmates and exchange stories. Edith P whose name is ended with an Ed.D., was there. Also Cami and Dakul. Others had already left.

In the evening we joined the procession which was highlighted by the colorful parade of well dressed saints atop heavily decorated carrozas. We followed the carroza of the Pieta – lifesize statues of the Virgin Mary carrying on her lap the lifeless body of Jesus. We were told that the Pieta was sent from Spain and were under the upkeep of our family for seven generations already. The current caretaker is a seconnd cousin. When we were kids, I remembered seeing the dismantled limbs and other parts of the Pieta kept inside a big wooden box in the house of an uncle. The maids would scare us with the life-size limbs.

After the procession, a multitude of worshipers formed long queues that snaked in the streets outside the church, and waited their turns to pay homage to the Santo Entierro or the supine dead statue of Jesus Christ. We didn’t join the queue as it was already about 9:00 pm. I led the kids to inside the church and showed them what the worshippers were doing. Well, the worshippers were kissing a big crucifix instead of the Santo Entierro. The Santo Entierro was inside a glass encasement and displayed near the entrance of the church.

The last time I was in this church during Viernes Santo, the worshippers were kissing the feet of the Santo Entierro. The santos was just like a big cadaver surrounded by townfolks who acted as the apostles. Yes, it was like a cadaver fresh from the morgue and lying cold and dead. And it was common to see small kids wailing with fear as their parents dragged them near the santos.

The Pieta is the most dramatic and most symbolic among the santoses that are paraded in the evening of Viernes Santo. This Spanish-time life-size santos in the above photo, is in our family for seven generations already. Below, a line of santoses are displayed in front of the church for the worshippers to oggle at.

Along the route of the evening procession are makeshift stands where ladies in traditional attire (above) sing the passion. Beside the stands are life-size tableaus (below) made of native or recycled materials and depicting the passion of Jesus Christ.   

Outside, it was like there was a big event in the town plaza even if the people were hushed and unmerry. Around the plaza, the lifesize tableaus of the Via Crucis using native or recycled materials were lighted and people mill around to see which station was the best. Beside the stations were makeshift stands where ladies in native attire sang the passion. In the past, I knew that there was a contest as to the best station of the cross and the best group who sang the passion. And people would spend a lot for their assigned station, and singers would sing their best and their loudest when a crowd passes in anticipation that a judge might be in the passing crowd. Now, it seemed that the tableaus were constructed just to complete the task, and the singers were tired and I had not heard any singing when we passed the stands. Times changed I thought. Young ladies would better text their barkadas to enjoy rather than do spinster stuff like singing the passion.

The kids were sleepy when we got back to the car. But I was sure they learned from the Viernes Santo in Cabatuan. Alleluia!