Day 41 (Recall) Red, White, Yellow, repeat

Saturday was supposed to be our annual Sinulog festival; a celebration held largely in the Visayas region of the Philippines. The old story tells of a church that burned down. When the wreckage was searched, they found that the only thing that managed to survive the fire was an idol of the child Jesus, said to be the same idol given by Ferdinand Magellan to the local chieftain. Hence, the celebration.

In the Philippines, specifically in Cebu, there are huge parades with floats and performers in insane costumes to celebrate the event, held a certain number of days after the New Year.

Here, however, all we had to work with was a church, a parking lot, and a church hall. Which is still a lot, considering the ocean between us and the home country.

So, Friday night, my parents’ church group got together to prepare decorations for the next days’ celebration. Within an hour of walking in, my sister and I were stringing up red, white and yellow banners across my Tita’s living room. Another hour later, I was on a chair in the backyard slipping balloons into poles and tying a few off. I managed to get a skin-burn in the process. It’s healed now.

In-between breaks, there was food (as usual) and the kids broke out Dance Central on Kinect. Apparently, I’m not half-bad at the game if I haven’t had anything to drink.

Turns out, the night was a pure test of my willpower and my struggle to retain my voice. My friends invited me to go out to a party about an hour away which would’ve been great, but I would’ve ended up drinking and destroying my healing throat. Then, it was a surprisingly freezing evening while I was outside blowing up, tying off, and arranging balloons; probably not great for my voice either. And, as a topper for the night, the Heat were playing and I only caught the game when we went into overtime. Since I’m a pretty blood-thirsty person, I pretty much screamed obscenities for the rest of OT. Thank goodness my Titos were also pretty riled, otherwise they might’ve been offended with my “big girl words.”

All in all, it was a nice evening. My family, real and honorary, worked and ate together for a common goal. It was loud and fun and comforting. I loved it. Even when a small bit of my skin tore off.

Written 1/10/11