The Sinulog Experience (or Lack Thereof)

by Arianna Y. Lim on February 14, 2012

Photo by Joseph S. Angan

If you and/or your friends went to Cebu last January for the annual Sinulog Festival, I hazard a guess that your recollection of the said festival is limited to the following:

1. The splatters of neon-colored paint on your clothes, which will forever be a reminder of your days as a street partygoer.
2. The chants of “Pit Sen-yor! Pit Sen-yor!” and knowing the meaning is only of secondary significance at best.
3. The intoxicating thrums of music that momentarily died down when the DJs had to ask overeager partygoers to get offstage.
4. The bloody cuts caused by recklessly strewn bottles that were tossed everywhere yet stopped no one from dancing, even after the sun went down.
5. Being doused in beer, water, sweat, coke, rum and rain is almost a necessity. And if that’s not enough, there were those buckets of paint-water unceremoniously dumped on partygoers from the upper floors of buildings lining the streets.
6. The half-litter Red Horse bottles bought for the sole purpose of emptying the contents onto anyone in the wetting-vicinity. Beer in the eye? It may sting, but no hard feelings. Party on.
7. The ebb and flow of hundreds of people crammed into the narrow streets, making the same scenario in a Manila nightclub seem almost laughable.

These were the memories I gratefully took home from my Cebu adventure, but I will be the first—and perhaps one of the few—to admit and regret that I flew back to Manila without truly experiencing Sinulog. Yes, I was there for the party, but surprise, surprise! There’s far more to the festival than getting beer in your hair, paint on your clothes, mud on your feet and booze in your hands.

Being from Manila and traveling with fellow Manileños, I collected a number of guesses—some educated and others not so much—as to what the essence of Sinulog really is.

“Some kind of rain festival,” “Something religious, but I’m not so sure,” and “I dunno, basta may street party,” were the more common answers to what other people thought about Sinulog. However, while the street parties continue to rage on every year—even though rain is always an expected visitor—these are not the fiesta’s focal point.

The true purpose of Sinulog, a festival raging on for nine days, is actually to pay homage to the image of the Señor Santo Niño.

A quick brush-up on your Philippine history will reveal that this statue of the infant Jesus was brought to the shores of Cebu upon the arrival of our Spanish colonizers in the early 1500s. Today, the receipt of the gift is popularly regarded as the symbolic acceptance of Roman Catholicism. Commemorated every year, it is celebrated with daily masses and various religious festivities.

The Fluvial Parade is one festivity to look forward to, with a fleet of boats sailing from the original image’s home in the Basilica Minore de Santo Niño. This fleet makes its way to Mactan, to reenact the arrival of the Spaniards. It’s a slow-moving parade, but the solemn procession is punctured by loud drums and jubilant cheers from the crowd, welcoming every float that comes in colorfully dressed to the nines.

Though the street party brings the festival to a wet and loud fist-pumping close in the evening of the last day, the official culmination of Sinulog is the dance parade held in the streets of the city, which is packed with people of all ages. The vibrant procession of dancers in elaborate costumes allows even the least skilled shutterbug a couple of great photos.

With that being said, I have no condescending judgment to pass on any party-hearty Manileños. Not going to the traditional religious activities makes it hard for me to look down on anyone, seeing as we’re viewing the festival from the same beer-soaked vantage point. More than a couple of weeks afterwards, however, I still find myself scanning wistfully through beach and party pictures, wishing I had made a greater effort to experience Sinulog in its entirety.