Friday, December 28, 2007 There's a kind of hush in Davao By Jojie Alcantara Witerary
RESIDENTS of Davao City may be so used to it by now, but guests and tourists find it a novel idea how we have been spending our Christmas holidays without the revelry and accustomed noise.
In fact, since the year 2000, we haven't heard of a single bang, pop and fizzle in the sky caused by an overeager resident (well, one or two brave souls tried and were instantly apprehended by authorities). We see parols everywhere on sidewalks, plastic torotots and sparklers, but none of the super lolos, Judas Belt, 5-star, bawang, kwitis, whistle bomb and watusi which we all have grown up with during childhood Christmases and New Years (probably accounting for a high percentage of ear problems we Pinoys have).
The first year of the firecracker ban was disappointingly somber. Davao City went through a quiet, contemplative celebration (translation: I snored in bed early). In my neighborhood, I was the lone noisemaker with sandok and kaldero in my hands.
I went out with my videocam to document a tricycle driving past in the street dragging around tin cans tied to ropes. A vehemently honking car whizzed by. A young boy held on to a dying sparkler, his face lighting up for a moment. The skies were festooned with colorful but noiseless fireworks.
Mayor Rodrigo Duterte was firm in his decision that no firecracker or pyrotechnics were to be sold, lit or exploded during Christmas, which went well for relieved parents, but not for grumbling traders.
In our hearts, there were mixed emotions on his stance. Grudging admiration, because no one has ever put a wet blanket on a tradition that naturally and closely precedes reckless perils and accidental mishaps. Yet no one violated his rule. No child with bloody fingers or blasted eye was rushed to the hospital the next day... a record for the city. Each year after that, we proudly kept our record of zero injurY from Christmas revelry.
Every year, it goes on. Of the islands in the Philippines, Davao represented the quiet kind of merriment that concentrated more on peace and safety rather than the outrageous, ear-shattering and boisterous welcoming of another year.
I once joined a festival in a beautiful coastal area in Surigao, and we were treated to a midnight display of fantastic fireworks that seemed to last forever. I gasped at the emblazoned sky in awe and actually shed tears.
Embarrassed, I tried to explain to the person beside me, "I am a Dabawenya," and it dawned on him in total understanding. During a December vacation in Boracay, I was always startled by the smallest "watusi" that popped.
Soon after, I stopped being apologetic. Living in Davao may have attuned our senses to the solemnity of the Christmas season, while the song "Silent Night, Holy Night, All is Calm, All is Bright..." runs in our heads. We can't say we will trade it back for those years of excitement and danger when people carelessly toyed with explosives and gambled missing fingers, wounded eyes, or worse, death from stray bullets. Hospitals back then were the busiest place in town.
If you're a stickler for Pinoy customs and you visit my city, you would be a little disappointed not to be lighting "super lolo' this year to raise the hackles of your neighbors. After all, what is a little noise to welcome the birth of a Savior? Habits are so hard to break.
But imagine what might have been when the child JC was born in the manger. There weren't fireworks or explosions to herald His birth, but one shiny, twinkling star. Instead, he was blanketed with a peaceful silence around him, save perhaps for the sloppy chewing of grass by the goats, and the bleats of pesky lambs.
Davao has its own way of observing Christmas and observing the passing of another year. We make up for the lack of noise by practically lighting the whole town up. With activities such as Pasko Fiesta sa Dabaw, each barangay is encouraged to decorate and be creative to win incentives from the government.
The city is gaily filled with lanterns and lights that brighten up every evening. Streets are emblazoned with colorful decors, twinkling lights, giant Christmas trees and Santa statues everywhere.
Despite the lack of ruckus, Dabawenyos and visitors hang out in downtown parks to breathe in the wonderful spirit of a peaceful, muted but equally joyful Christmas. As for me, my good old "torotot" still works wonders.
(This article is published in Philippine Airlines' international inflight publication Mabuhay Magazine in this month's issue. React to jojiealcantara@gmail.com or browse writer's website at www.witerary.com.)
