From the Poblacion area, a typical 'barrio' is some kilometers away. Barrio Wawa is especially distant, being situated in the southernmost section of the town. But in the 1970s, one got there easily by jeep, though passengers had to navigate some dusty and gravelly parts of the road.
Within the barrio itself, it was a different story: one moved around in a karitela called by locals as carromata, a clunky horse-drawn carriage with slabs of plain, un-upholstered wood as seats. The town center of Bayambang used to have several makers of carromatas called carrocerias.
The carromata moved up and down as it obeyed the bumps on the dusty dirt roads cutting through the wide tracts of farmlands. Loading, at most, four persons at a time, the passengers endured the discomfort. The driver whipped his horse and instructed the poor neighing beast with “Tsk-tsk, hiyaa!” to make it step forward and “Hoe-hoe!” to make it stop. When he wanted the horse to turn left or right, he pulled a string attached to the nose to either the left or the right. To 'sound the horn,' he had to flick the switch of a globular coppery metal, which gave off a loud clanging that was pleasant to the ears.
Wawa then had a peculiar smell, and it must have come from a combination of drying onions, the barrio’s main produce, the browning heap of discarded banana leaves and banana trunks they called alasas, and maybe the hay from the rice and the refuse from the corn fields. Maybe the nearby Agno River added a scent to the mix too.
Even when no formal invitations were sent out, visitors from near and far were sure to come. According to retired professor Bernardo Jimenez, the barrio fiesta in Wawa was the only fiesta being much awaited outside of the annual town fiesta, wherein folks from the center of town would go out of their way to come visit.
Whenever visiting relatives from Manila, in particular, stayed at their respective peteg a kanayon's (immediate kin's) place, it was usually one whole week leading to the barrio fiesta, plus one or two extra days after, for the fiesta was unfailingly a grand celebration, even if the household only dwelt in a lowly kubo or nipa hut.
During the day proper of the barrio fiesta, the parish priest would travel all the way from the town to visit the little barrio chapel to say mass. Then right after followed a grand but solemn procession around the barrio, which paraded on a gaily decorated float the barrio's patron saint, a dark-skinned version of Mary called Nuestra Señora de Montserrat.
This was the high point of the fiesta, for it was the raison d'etre of the whole thing: to honor the town's patron in thanksgiving for all the blessings God bestowed on them through her intercession, particularly for the bountiful harvest of rice, corn, and onion. The revered patron was often the subject of talks about her miraculous intervention in the lives of locals, particularly during days of trial, like amidst fearsome floods and typhoons.
A marching band, heralded by a smiling, pretty, short-skirted bastonera or baton twirler, was hired to spread summer cheer during the rest of the day, followed by two marching bands which competed with their renditions of different tunes.
The whole hosting family was complete, even when it meant the full-grown children had to come home all the way from Manila (where they studied for college) just for the occasion. The lunch table, therefore, would be fully occupied, and it was the perfect excuse for a grand celebration.
By noon, the milling crowd of visitors patronized the halo-halo (assorted sweets in shaved ice) being peddled by enterprising households -- it was an instant hit because it quenched thirst and cooled down sweating bodies. The rest of the day, relatives from other barrios and from downtown came and went for the meals, and they feasted on igado, morcon, embotido, dinuguan, and pork adobo in pineapple, among other festive dishes. The meat for the morcon and embotido especially took a whole lot of mincing and chopping the night before, so family members and their early visitors had a hard time sleeping through it. The desserts were often leche flan and pink gulaman with raisins and pineapple bits.
The more well off families might have an entire pig pit-roasted (lechon), but chicken dishes were notably absent, owing to the belief that chickens, with their scratchy feet constantly grazing the ground for the day's victuals, symbolized hardship in life.
On this occasion, one got to meet second- and third-degree relatives one rarely saw, so old familial bonds are reinforced through the frantic tracing of biological lineage.
Other day events might include parlor games like pukpok palayok, palo sebo, agawan ng biik, and onion-eating contest.
The night of the festival, there was a baile held in an open field nearby where all the ladies and gents danced in their party wear to the tune of the most modish musical pieces of the day.
After that, a zarzuela (an often comedic play involving hired professional actors from outside town) was held on a stage in front of the chapel, and barrio folk converged there to laugh their heads off together at the antics of the characters.
Soon afterwards, a fierce contest between the two brass bands hired from faraway towns ensured delightful music deep into the night and up till dawn. Both bands competed in playing a variety of tunes, from classical to vernacular, as though to prove their versatility. Even young boys and elderly male members played through the night under the flickering stars.
Visitors also spent substantial money on roadside snacks and games at the small fair, which operated well through the night.
A day after, during downtime, the locals went back to their usual life, tending to their onion, corn, rice, or tobacco farms, fertilizing the cash crops, if not spraying pesticides. They would also pick tomatoes, eggplants, or bananas or give the farm animals a mudbath by the river.
When visitors went back home, they would often bring with them freshly plucked malunggay leaves for tinola and malunggay pods for pinakbet from the backyard and sealed jars of leftover fiesta fare. They would also bring with them new terms in old Pangasinan, the vernacular language spoken in Barrio Wawa.
Originally, the Wawa Catholic chapel was built in 1970 on another piece of land, but was eroded by a flood so it was transferred to its present location in 1972.
On December 31, 2006, the second chapel has been elevated into a parokya -- a church with an independent parish, but its official patron has been changed to San Lorenzo Ruiz. The Nuestra Señora de Montserrat icon, however, remains to have a place of honor below the altar.
Within the barrio itself, it was a different story: one moved around in a karitela called by locals as carromata, a clunky horse-drawn carriage with slabs of plain, un-upholstered wood as seats. The town center of Bayambang used to have several makers of carromatas called carrocerias.
The carromata moved up and down as it obeyed the bumps on the dusty dirt roads cutting through the wide tracts of farmlands. Loading, at most, four persons at a time, the passengers endured the discomfort. The driver whipped his horse and instructed the poor neighing beast with “Tsk-tsk, hiyaa!” to make it step forward and “Hoe-hoe!” to make it stop. When he wanted the horse to turn left or right, he pulled a string attached to the nose to either the left or the right. To 'sound the horn,' he had to flick the switch of a globular coppery metal, which gave off a loud clanging that was pleasant to the ears.
Wawa then had a peculiar smell, and it must have come from a combination of drying onions, the barrio’s main produce, the browning heap of discarded banana leaves and banana trunks they called alasas, and maybe the hay from the rice and the refuse from the corn fields. Maybe the nearby Agno River added a scent to the mix too.
Even when no formal invitations were sent out, visitors from near and far were sure to come. According to retired professor Bernardo Jimenez, the barrio fiesta in Wawa was the only fiesta being much awaited outside of the annual town fiesta, wherein folks from the center of town would go out of their way to come visit.
Whenever visiting relatives from Manila, in particular, stayed at their respective peteg a kanayon's (immediate kin's) place, it was usually one whole week leading to the barrio fiesta, plus one or two extra days after, for the fiesta was unfailingly a grand celebration, even if the household only dwelt in a lowly kubo or nipa hut.
During the day proper of the barrio fiesta, the parish priest would travel all the way from the town to visit the little barrio chapel to say mass. Then right after followed a grand but solemn procession around the barrio, which paraded on a gaily decorated float the barrio's patron saint, a dark-skinned version of Mary called Nuestra Señora de Montserrat.
This was the high point of the fiesta, for it was the raison d'etre of the whole thing: to honor the town's patron in thanksgiving for all the blessings God bestowed on them through her intercession, particularly for the bountiful harvest of rice, corn, and onion. The revered patron was often the subject of talks about her miraculous intervention in the lives of locals, particularly during days of trial, like amidst fearsome floods and typhoons.
A marching band, heralded by a smiling, pretty, short-skirted bastonera or baton twirler, was hired to spread summer cheer during the rest of the day, followed by two marching bands which competed with their renditions of different tunes.
The whole hosting family was complete, even when it meant the full-grown children had to come home all the way from Manila (where they studied for college) just for the occasion. The lunch table, therefore, would be fully occupied, and it was the perfect excuse for a grand celebration.
By noon, the milling crowd of visitors patronized the halo-halo (assorted sweets in shaved ice) being peddled by enterprising households -- it was an instant hit because it quenched thirst and cooled down sweating bodies. The rest of the day, relatives from other barrios and from downtown came and went for the meals, and they feasted on igado, morcon, embotido, dinuguan, and pork adobo in pineapple, among other festive dishes. The meat for the morcon and embotido especially took a whole lot of mincing and chopping the night before, so family members and their early visitors had a hard time sleeping through it. The desserts were often leche flan and pink gulaman with raisins and pineapple bits.
The more well off families might have an entire pig pit-roasted (lechon), but chicken dishes were notably absent, owing to the belief that chickens, with their scratchy feet constantly grazing the ground for the day's victuals, symbolized hardship in life.
On this occasion, one got to meet second- and third-degree relatives one rarely saw, so old familial bonds are reinforced through the frantic tracing of biological lineage.
Other day events might include parlor games like pukpok palayok, palo sebo, agawan ng biik, and onion-eating contest.
The night of the festival, there was a baile held in an open field nearby where all the ladies and gents danced in their party wear to the tune of the most modish musical pieces of the day.
After that, a zarzuela (an often comedic play involving hired professional actors from outside town) was held on a stage in front of the chapel, and barrio folk converged there to laugh their heads off together at the antics of the characters.
Soon afterwards, a fierce contest between the two brass bands hired from faraway towns ensured delightful music deep into the night and up till dawn. Both bands competed in playing a variety of tunes, from classical to vernacular, as though to prove their versatility. Even young boys and elderly male members played through the night under the flickering stars.
Visitors also spent substantial money on roadside snacks and games at the small fair, which operated well through the night.
A day after, during downtime, the locals went back to their usual life, tending to their onion, corn, rice, or tobacco farms, fertilizing the cash crops, if not spraying pesticides. They would also pick tomatoes, eggplants, or bananas or give the farm animals a mudbath by the river.
When visitors went back home, they would often bring with them freshly plucked malunggay leaves for tinola and malunggay pods for pinakbet from the backyard and sealed jars of leftover fiesta fare. They would also bring with them new terms in old Pangasinan, the vernacular language spoken in Barrio Wawa.
Originally, the Wawa Catholic chapel was built in 1970 on another piece of land, but was eroded by a flood so it was transferred to its present location in 1972.
On December 31, 2006, the second chapel has been elevated into a parokya -- a church with an independent parish, but its official patron has been changed to San Lorenzo Ruiz. The Nuestra Señora de Montserrat icon, however, remains to have a place of honor below the altar.
Today, the barrio fiesta tradition has caught on with the rest of Bayambang's 66 rural barangays (barangay being the new term for barrio), and it remains alive through the continued collaboration of the local church and its barangay parishioners, but noticeably with the participation of the 'local government unit' (the Punong Barangay (the new term for Kapitan) and his Barangay Council).
Taking a cue from the lavish town fiesta in Poblacion, related activities might include a pa-liga (sports, chiefly basketball, tournament) and a beauty contest.
The Punong Barangay is invited to make a speech during the program on the big night as a special guest, together with political luminaries from the town, such as the Municipal Mayor, Vice-Mayor or Councilor.
All the major roads have been concreted and paved by now, and the old nipa huts are mostly gone, replaced by bungalows made of hollow blocks and cement. But these latest societal changes have not dampened one bit the glad, because grateful, and inviting barrio fiesta spirit.
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