A Gift Of A Festival

There's something about festivals that I like: maybe it's the spirit of revelry, of reckless abandon in the name of fun, or being able to touch, feel, and taste culture.

Dinagyang in Iloilo was no exception. I didn't mind being sunburned from around 7 in the morning 'til after lunch.

The costumes were fantastic. And the choreography, too. Each troop dressed to the nines so to speak, in all their ethnic revelry. They were like fully-made up armies, each troop surging forward accompanied by what sounded like a hundred drums. And then, each of the dancers would shout on the top of their lungs, or raise their arms in devotion, pirouette, or jump, and run forward; all of these, each one did, with so much power and synchronicity with the others, but each one like a troop unto itself.

And to think Dinagyang started with a simple birthday gift from a Cebu priest to a parish priest in Iloilo. There's nothing metaphysical or mysterious with its beginnings but something somehow tells you, God intervened, to have it reach this magnitude of a celebration.

In 1968, Father Sulpicio Enderes of Cebu gave then San Jose, Iloilo Parish priest Ambrocio Galindez an image of the Sto. Niño. I had the fortunate chance to interview Father Galindez, now 76 years old and is now based in Bohol.

It was during the Fluvial procession which ushered in the start of the religious festival that I finally encountered the man who started it all.

"Were you surprised that it has gotten this big, father?" I asked him, with me being more amused that he was.

"All for the Niño," he smiled.

"Why did you ask for an image of the Sto. Niño?" I inquired.

"I was asked what gift I wanted, so I said an image of the Niño, because at the time, I was thinking of starting a confradia de Santo Niño in Iloilo," Father Galindez said.

Dominador Rivera, was one of those who organized the first-ever Dinagyang Festival. They held it in the town of San Jose, a couple of minutes ride from the city proper.

The reception then was of ridicule.

"We only had bottles to provide us sounds, we didn't even have costumes like they do now. They thought we were crazy," Rivera recalled with amusement.

I first met Rivera at the Sto. Nino parish where they keep the 1968 image of the Sto. Nino. Met him again during the Ati Competition, Sunday.

"This is beautiful," I told him, referring to the tribes performing.

He simply nodded. Already aware of the obvious fact.

In front of the stage, sitted amongst a crowd of VIPs, Father Galindez sat inconspicuously. If I had not known prior the relevance of this man, I would not have noticed him.

"Thank you, Father Galindez, for giving us such a gift," the emcee announced after she had introduced him.

Indeed.