Soaring High on the First Manikling Festival
April 26, 2007 by igme
Last Friday, I was invited by a good friend, Jeph Ramos, to be a photographer for a pre-pageant event in Nueva Ecija. Out of utang na loob (for the all the help he’s done, including free viewing of stage plays at CCP and his own theater group, Teatro Sambisig), I immediately said yes. I’m alright with a “no budget,” the thing that got my interest was my thirst for a new challenge; it’d be a baptism of fire for me to have a pictorial. Also, it’d be my first time in Nueva Ecija. I whisked my way out of Manila rut the next day, and I was in for a thrill ride.
After the three-hour bus trip, we set foot on the sprawling and sleepy lot of San Leonardo municipal hall. With just an automatic SLR camera in my hand, I had to make do with the available light, an unfastened fluorescent light, a white-board that served as a reflector, and a location shoot at the fountain area in the middle of the administration hall. I will not comment on the young contestants for I will be a judge for the pre-pageant two days from now. All I could say is that it’s hard to instruct the novice to bend their backs, turn their heads and do the S-curve. I covered the casual wear and the evening wear (no swim wear for the first festival in the province, pls).
The beauty pageant is part of the umbrella event, the first ever “Manikling Festival” for the municipal of San Leonardo, Nueva Ecija. It starts today and ends on Sunday. The Festival Director is my friend, Jeph R. with the help of his Teatro Sambisig group. The vice-mayor vying for the mayoral position entrusted his leadership, and we’re all from Manila.
The next activity was that I observed a Repertoire Theater Guidance (RTG) for the dance groups participating at the dance contest for each barangay. Jeph and the dance teacher, Edwin, through RTG — saw the rehearsals, gave critiques, and guided the groups to challenge, question, praise, encourage and advise them to make the dance routines better.
The RTG was memorable for a lot of reasons. First, seven of us squeezed inside a lone tricycle and traveled far and in between remote barangay. In the first barangay, the young children were rehearsing at a small makeshift square lot inside a local PNP police station. It was already nighttime when we got to the second and third barangay. You’ll be amazed at how kids are. They are poor, but passionate. They really prepared for the festival. In one barangay, we were shown-off their costumes; the girls’ skirts are made of kawayan and the headdresses covered with pieces of egg-shells. I saw the fire in their eyes, their openness for learning and their dignity. There IS dignity in each child I saw.
In Mambangnan where we stayed, the hostess, Precy, made our whirling stomachs filled with a sumptuous meal of nilagang baboy (this I only ate with gusto) for late lunch. I promised her I’d give her ice cream as a present when I come back. The main “character” I met is Bebe and her kid, nine-year old Remiboy. Bebe has this funny speech of slurring, like she’s always gone from a drinking spree. Amidst her drunkard persona, she and Remiboy were the ones who drove the tricycle for us. Jeph shared an anecdote about Bebe, she’s done ala-Virgin Mary. She didn’t know she was pregnant until only two days before she gave birth. When the news spread, the town folks also stopped moving. This was six months ago. That’s how lovable her character is.
I like the way my friend Jeph does — being found in everywhere but not of the world, touching children’s lives slowly without ever thinking of the returns except the belief that one has contributed something. To witness the sense of community among those children is inspiring.
A thought crossed my mind — the simple joys of a rustic life is inviting — but the thought of uprooting myself and live here makes me think, “How long will this kind of life take me?”
There were a few disappointments — the lack of scenic views and financial resources from the organizing committee themselves; the illogical thinking of some people (e.g. How a local man can theorize that a child grows healthier or doesn’t get sick in rural, even if the latter’s hands is dirty?); yet, my other experiences compensated for a lot of things intangible.
The cooing of the birds in the quiet morning and seeing myself with another person hearing it (fantasies, fantasies!), the push-pedaled workings by Remiboy whenever the tricycle stops on the road, the energetic dancing of the children under the moonlight, the slow and slanted movement of calamansi sprouts waiting to get picked, the excitement of braving another new world –– these things make me alive.
