A non Cebuano's Sinulog

Good things are sometimes veiled. That’s what I learned about the most awaited celebration here in Cebu. Oh, by the way, I’m not a Cebuano. I don’t speak the language well, I don’t have any relatives residing here and definitely, I don’t eat the famous ‘ginamos’. I’m from Manila, particularly in the province of Bulacan. My family moved here a couple of years ago because of my father’s work assignment. We really had to it because we believe in close family ties. I had to adapt to my new environment.

Everything went smooth in the past years. I gained friends. ‘Puso’ and ‘Danggit’ became part of my existence as a Non-Cebuano. SM and Ayala became my second home, and lastly, I learned that in order to get to Talamban, I need to look for a 13C jeepney .



Of course, my family would feel unaided every time we spend our holidays like Christmas and New Years. But as the years go by, we got used to it and later on, accepted things one tread at a time. Cebuanos celebrate these holidays fine. Our solitude becomes glee because of the contagious attitude of the natives. But there is one thing I missed as a ‘trying-hard-to-be-cebuano’. It’s the Sinulog Celebration. Since I’m not a catholic, I didn’t attend any single fête upon my residence in Cebu. I would only hear my classmates bragging about where he went during the celebration and how happy he was dancing and partying all day. Of course, the curiosity never left me.

That’s why I tried to join the event last 2009. I had to attend because one of my school subjects required me to do so. I had to participate in human barricade. It all started with the Saturday procession. Roads were closed, and I could feel the worship atmosphere in the path along P. Del Rosario Street. The sea of people did not really bother me, but instead, the thing that was playing on my mind was their faith. Cebuanos are real worshippers. And, as I got fascinated by it, I even forgot that I was supposed to hold the rope.

On the second day, which is the main event, all I could remember was the night revelry. My friends and I walked together along with the blissful people to witness the stunning firecrackers, never ending dancing and partying along the vicinity. I’ve never seen anything like it in my entire stay here. The noise and the music slowly became candy to my stranger ears during that time.
It also got me to think why they call Sinulog as the most celebrated event for the Cebuanos. It was almost 11 p.m. and surprisingly, I didn’t want to end the night.

It’s 2010. One year has passed. I can hear again the famous Sinulog beat wherever I go. I can hear the music every Cebuanos dance to. And, I can hear myself as well asking, would I do it again?
Of course, I would. But this time, I’m going to bring my SLR camera for more lasting memoirs, trusty slippers for the long march and a mineral water to keep me hydrated.

This is an experience that I could share to my friends in Luzon. Pit Senyor!