Holy Week in my hometown

Hi there! It’s Good Friday. A few days ago I unearthed in my collection a VCD copy of Jesus of Nazareth. I first watched it when I was in high school, and I can still clearly remember a newspaper review raving how Franco Zeferelli gave an unglamorized portrayal of the life of Jesus. Well, that was how it was for me until I came across that the Passion of the Christ with all its gory details about the suffering of Christ. Well, if I may add, that movie was made by one of the most homophobic movie directors there is. Anyway, what about these movies? It’s nice to note that we have in our midst some works of art that can help us ponder upon the suffering of Christ. In a way, to encourage those who are not into the usual penitensya and stuff that the Holy Week is made of.

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Today we are halfway through the Easter triduum. On a personal note, this is always the busiest weekend for the past so many years. And for many generations of Calbayognons, Calbayog’s observance of her Lenten traditions is always one reason to come back to one’s hometown in Holy Week.

As usual, yesterday the image of the Dolorosa gave way to the monumento which will be the object of veneration of the faithful until noon today. The 12 persons (usually members of the K of C) who were selected as this year’s apostoles had their feet washed by the Bishop. Later at the parish rectory, they had their dinner with the bishop. I was once a part of this “ritual”. The bishop seated at the center with the twelve apostles on both sides. So was it a good dinner? I dunnow. Try to imagine having dinner while a lector reads a good number of gospel passages and a choir sings psalms in between. Then at exactly 8 pm, it was time for the jubileo, that saying of the rosary while in procession around the Cathedral and going in and out of it (yes, through all its doors).

As with the past years, today’s service begins, on the dot at 1 pm with the siete palabras. Priests from the parish and the parishes nearby take turns to reflect on the even last words. Old folks fondly recall that many years ago this activity ended with some sort of reenactment of the death of Jesus. Someone would say a line (supposedly the last line uttered by the Lord) and on cue, a parish employee in charge would pull a cord and the head of the crucified Christ moves or bows down portraying the death of the Lord and in a way gave goosebumps to many parishioners. Alas, things can never go perfect. There is this barbero story that in one Good Friday service, the person in charge missed the cue, and forgot about pulling the cord and the head of the crucified Christ did not move. The line cannot be uttered again, so how did they do it? Someone supposedly called (‘twas more of a loud whisper) the name of the person in charge and said, “tiwasi na!” Ahh, Filipinos indeed can always make something light out of anything they go through. And yes, I saw this myself a few years ago. There was this guy who I presume was inspired by the crucifixion of folks in Luzon or maybe in his effort to do penitensya, had himself crucified. And there he hanged on his cross somewhere in Rawis. It was some kinda sight to behold until he called on some of his companions, nope not to reenact the seven last words, but to ask for ice water.

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And what is Good Friday without the procession? Today there will be at least 14 corrozas that will go around the city. There are certain carrozas that have always fascinated me as these are the ones I grew up with, so to speak.

“An carro san Señor” is how members of the Gomez family fondly call the more than a century old life-size image of Christ being tied and scourged on the pillar.

Then there is the one owned by the Rosales Family. It is the one depicting the third fall of Jesus. Life-size images of Christ on the ground with a big cross on his back and at least four hudeyos with their glaring eyes are my earliest images of the suffering of Christ.


And then there is the Santo Intierro of the Sarmiento Family. For whatever reason, it is always the most popular among the mass goers. On top of many people taking time to touch its feet, its decors and flowers always get plucked even just halfway through the procession.

The image of the Dolorosa or the Sorrowful Mother gives what I consider an eerie twist to Good Friday when it goes on procession in the middle of the night. It goes through the silent streets of Calbayog with the recitation of the rosary blaring and the moon peeping over the horizon.

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We have our own memories or images of Holy Week in our hometown. Whatever these memories or images are, it boils down to one thing. I believe that holy week have always been declared as a holiday, a long one at that, for us to spend some holy days before the big celebration which is Easter.

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Have a holy week everyone! Ciao!