My second memory of the Sinulog is joining in the booing of Imelda Marcos in 1986. It was shortly before the snap elections and she was campaigning for her husband. People heckled her and threw ice water at the vehicle she was riding.
The last time I saw the Sinulog parade was in 1991. Cebu was recovering nicely from the destructive Typhoon Ruping and everyone was in an upbeat mood. I was a sixteen-year old high school senior hanging out with my friends in Mango Avenue, unmindful of the damage the sun was causing to my skin. It was the first (and only) time that I would watch the parade with my friends instead of my family.
Sixteen years later, I am back in Cebu, celebrating my first Sinulog as an adult. During the years I studied and worked in Manila, I got an inkling of how the Sinulog festivities had changed from what my parents told me and from what I saw on TV. Still, I had no idea how different the Sinulog celebrations had become.
I noticed the colored lights strung across the city's streets as early as December. While there used to be only one display with the Santo Niño in Fuente Osmeña, I saw that there are two additional ones now. Hotels, bars, restaurants, and even hardware stores, are advertising Sinulog specials.
The presence of the SM and Ayala Malls also contributed to the changes. I caught a mini-Sinulog parade in SM one afternoon. I was happy to see an exhibit of paintings and sculptures by Cebuano artists at the SM Art Center. I look forward to viewing the exhibit of Santo Niño figures at the Ayala Mall and that of the Banglos artists at the Cebu Cathedral Museum.
In my freshman year in college, I met someone at the dormitory who told me that her parents never fail to go to Cebu for the feast of the Santo Niño (they traveled from Mindanao). They credited the Santo Niño with saving her life when she was seven years old. I am embarrassed to admit that that was the first time I realized that the Sinulog was actually a religious celebration and not just a parade where the dancers carried images of the Santo Niño.
This year, I attended the novena masses at the Basilica del Santo Niño for the first time. I was very surprised by the number of people who were there. We usually go the basilica on Saturday mornings. During those times, the only persons outside the church would be the vendors selling candles and balloons. I was amazed to see that neither the rains nor the heat deterred anyone from attending the novena masses. What surprised me most, however, was getting goosebumps every time the "Bato Balani" song was sung during the mass. I wish I had an explanation for the fact that it felt as if there was something almost palpable in the air.
I also joined the foot procession for the first time. While we waited for the image of the Santo Niño at the corner of P. del Rosario and President Osmeña Boulevard, I saw several persons looking at the tarpaulin which showed images of old Cebu. Some even had their pictures taken with the enlarged photographs in the background. This strengthened my belief that people would be interested in their cultural heritage if they only knew what it is.
Attending the novena masses and joining the foot procession made me feel like a pilgrim traveling to Cebu for the first time. Like other pilgrims, I feel blessed to have been given the chance to make the journey.
Pit Senyor!