Summer ushers in a succession of blithesome Filipino gatherings in and around London we fondly call barrio fiestas. This year, summer has been daunting weather-wise as incessant rain caused unprecedented flooding in a lot of areas around the UK. That hasn’t dampened the enthusiasm of thousands of Filipinos and friends from trooping to the Morden Fiesta, where heavy downpour gave it a Glastonbury-like feel. Filipinos look forward to these events with anticipation all year long. Not even heavy rains, which are really just ambon (drizzles) in comparison to the monsoon rains we get in the Philippines, would keep them back.
Yet, for all the fervor and interest we bring coming to these events, there is an undercurrent of despair- of a feeling that somehow, we are being shortchanged. It is as if we had paid £100 to watch a Pacquiao-Dela Hoya match only for the fight to end in a draw after one (1) round. It is as though we had flown 10,000 miles to an island in the Caribbean only to find out that even the beaches of Nasugbu, Batangas are better. While allegations abound that these Barrio Fiestas suffer from mismanagement and poor planning, the truth is that the whole fiesta concept is just getting too routine - like a tired and weary maiden all made-up but with little or no character to show for.
A standard feature of all barrio fiestas are the Filipino food stalls. It is said that pinoys have three obsessions, 1) an obsession for singing, 2) an obsession for taking pictures, and 3) an obsession for eating. Imagine how dour a barrio fiesta would be without the adobong manoks, the laings, and the menudos. But that is exactly the point. Year after year, we are being served the same dishes over and over. I yearn for a barrio fiesta when someone, somebody could offer me a Jollibee Spaghetti or a decent Filipino dish not served in styropor plates. And where are the lechons, rondallas and palusebos that usually characterize real fiestas in the Philippines?
Comedians and artists flown in from Manila give us welcome entertainment for an hour or so. But while they bring fits of laughter and shrieks for the afternoon, we leave the premises feeling a little embarrassed. Why wouldn’t we be? They make fun of themselves (and others) through self-deprecating jokes that only serve to highlight our less desirable traits. Why can’t we also have people on stage (or in focus) who can inspire us and make us feel good about ourselves?
It is great to see fellow Filipinos congregate in thousands. But as you see them wandering aimlessly around the grounds, you feel that they are looking for something they can’t quite find.
We come to these events to remind us of our heritage as it is quite challenging these days to ascertain whether we are better off watching nutters slug it out on Big Brother or to watch scantily-clad girls gyrate to the tune of Boom Tarat Tarat on a variety show on TFC. We come to these events to reinvigorate our sense of pride as Filipinos because refreshing positive news from the Philippines are as rare as London sunshine in the summer. What we do get when we come to these events is a certainty that we’ll go home with a bag full of free newspapers and an odd assortment of leaflets and brochures.
A snotty friend of mine observed that the barrio fiestas should be more aptly called tiangges. She is not entirely incorrect. Barrio fiestas are commerce-driven and are dependent on the financial support of Filipino businesses and entrepreneurs. However, I don’t see a reason why organizers can’t ask donations from individuals too for holding these events as long as there is fair expectation that such donations would be transparently accounted for. Fiestas are supposed to epitomize the Filipino bayanihan spirit. It is not improper if we are asked to contribute some cash and/or effort in making sure that these celebrations are successful.
The thing is, while we seem to do well as individuals, as a community we do not seem to hit it off as successfully.
The signs are pervasive: 1) low participation in the Overseas Absentee Voting (OAV). 2) Second and third-generation British-Filipinos who are becoming more and more aloof of and wary of their Filipino heritage, 3) increasing factionalism i.e. I-care-about-me-and-my-family-and-my-friends—but-not-anyone-else attitude.
We are not excited enough being Filipinos and we need a little tickling.
The Psychology Of Excitement
As a supporter of Chelsea FC, I was lucky enough to have been able to watch the first FA cup final at the new Wembley Stadium. The oohs and aahs from everyone who laid eyes on the structure for the first time suggest how really spectacular it is and the immense pride that the British people has for it. I told a fellow Chelsea fan that our San Juanico Bridge in Leyte (at 2000 meters) is definitely longer than the iconic arch of the stadium (at 315 metres). She was not amused and snapped back that our San Juanico Bridge most probably does not have 2618 toilets. Ah! That little detail.
The Wembley Stadium may have taken longer to build and may have been over-budget. However, the result is outstanding and brings a sense of achievement and excitement for the whole nation.
Bring in the fun
Rumor has it the Mayor Ken Livingstone has a standing offer to let us use Trafalgar Square as a venue for our Independence Day celebrations. It would be a big thing!
The Chinese and Russians have celebrations there every year, and so do the Bangladeshis and Borat’s compatriots from the ‘Great Republic of Kazakhstan’. While we should be grateful to the boroughs of Morden and Hounslow for giving us the chance to assemble in their parks once a year, we should perhaps at some point consider Trafalgar Square as an alternative venue. The logistics and organization for mounting such a festivity is not necessarily out of our depth. Already, we have at least five (5) barrio fiestas in and around London from June till August. Why can’t we lump them into one big celebration?
Imagine a one-day urban-fiesta at Trafalgar Square with an artificial white sand beach and lounge chairs amid erected palm trees and women and men taking a dip at the fountains. Imagine how much pride and excitement that would give us if we are able to celebrate our country’s tradition not in the outer suburbs of London but in a prominent political and social esplanade that has witnessed the most important historic events in this country.
Fiestas don’t need to be lavish and extravagant however. They just need to be fun. Fun is something that we should not expect other people to give us. Fun is something we allow ourselves to have.
For the fiestas next year, let’s hang some clay pots and ask random people to hit them blind-folded. Who says basagan-ng-palayok can’t anymore be trendy?
Let’s cordon off an area where people can play catch-a-greased-pig. Whoever wins takes home the bacon.
Let’s ask somebody to wear a frock and dress up as Padre Damaso’s and hand out copies of Noli Me Tangere and El Filbusterismo. These two great books by J. Rizal would give J.K Rowling a run for her money.
And to anyone who can sell Jollibee Spaghettis, I will be the first on the queue. I’ll bring along my neighbors too.
