When July rolls in, something unmistakably Hispanic and deeply nostalgic fills the air in my small and peaceful hometown of Caraga, Davao Oriental, the easternmost settlement in the Philippines.
It is as though time itself slows down to breathe. For us who grew up there, the start of the month feels like the beginning of a long, beautiful holiday. Childhood friends, high school batchmates, and cousins from the city would find their way back home, lured by the promise of unhurried days and the charm of a town wrapped in its most festive spirit.
Caraga’s parochial fiesta, under the leadership of two-time re-elected Mayor Ronie Osnan, fondly known as “RSO”, is nothing short of magical. From the grand opening on the 7th to the Parochial Fiesta on the 16th that celebrates the town’s founding anniversary and the patron feast of Mindanao’s oldest church, San Salvador, the entire place transforms.
Streets come alive with cultural performances –- the Silatan Festival, pageants celebrating femininity, courage, and spirit of Mandaya, and processions.
Nights are bright with music and laughter, and mornings are slow and peaceful, filled with the scent of food and the echo of roosters crowing.
Every day becomes an adventure, whether it’s an impromptu trip to the beach or a spontaneous hike to the waterfalls. You would find yourself riding motorcycles down familiar dirt roads or just walking through the streets where everyone seems to know your name or at least your family’s. There's an old, comforting rhythm to it all, one that feels like home no matter how far you’ve gone or how long you’ve been away.
What makes the fiesta truly unforgettable is the food and the people who prepare it with love.
you would say as you knock on a cousin’s, friend’s, or neighbor’s door, and immediately, you would be invited in with warm smiles and tables overflowing with lechon, pancit, lumpia, native delicacies, and desserts that remind you of childhood.
Sometimes, you do not even have to knock; you just walk in and start picking from the table like you never left.
Fiesta is more than a celebration — it's a reunion. It brings together old friends who’ve grown older, relatives who’ve built lives elsewhere, and neighbors whose names you’ve known since you were a child.
In Caraga, a small town steeped in history and memory, everyone is connected by blood, stories, or shared moments.
Caraga’s roots run deep. Officially established as a municipality on October 29, 1903, it is one of the oldest towns in Davao Oriental. But its soul stretches further back to 1591, when it was already a registered mission under the Spanish encomienda system. The very name “Caraga” comes from the Kalagan people, fierce, spirited, and brave. This spirit is still alive today, not just in history books but in the heartbeat of every fiesta.
Our traditions bear the mark of our ancestry indigenous rituals, Spanish Catholicism, and the unique Filipino knack for celebration. The old Spanish influence is unmistakable in our pageantry, our prayers, and even in how we feast.
Sitios and barangays have their own mini-fiestas, and it’s during this time that Caragueños from all over the world come home, drawn by the memories of youth and the embrace of community.
As the last strains of music fade and the final guests head home, the town slowly returns to its quiet self. And just like that, we pack our bags, say our goodbyes, and return to the fast-paced lives we lead elsewhere. The city awaits, with all its noise and rush.
But the fiesta stays with us….
It lives in the memory of shared laughter under the stars, the taste of food that reminds us of our grandparents’ kitchens, the warmth of people who have not changed, and the feeling that, for a few days, the world stopped so we could remember who we are.
With life’s uncertainties and the future always leaving more questions than answers, fiestas are a breather. If there is one thing I hold onto, it is coming home to Caraga for the fiesta. It helps me heal and grounds me. It is something nostalgic, something sacred, something truly irreplaceable.
And so, as Caraga was once called
the region of spirited men and women, may we always carry that same spirit with us, wherever we go.
So to Caraga, I say:
And to everyone I have shared these moments with:
In this small town filled with memories, we are never truly apart. DEF