CHAPTER XXVI
The Eve of the Fiesta
It is now the tenth of November, the eve of the fiesta. Emerging fromits habitual monotony, the town has given itself over to unwontedactivity in house, church, cockpit, and field. Windows are coveredwith banners and many-hued draperies. All space is filled with noiseand music, and the air is saturated with rejoicings.
On little tables with embroidered covers the _dalagas_ arrange inbright-hued glass dishes different kinds of sweetmeats made fromnative fruits. In the yard the hens cackle, the cocks crow, and thehogs grunt, all terrified by this merriment of man. Servants movein and out carrying fancy dishes and silver cutlery. Here there is aquarrel over a broken plate, there they laugh at the simple countrygirl. Everywhere there is ordering, whispering, shouting. Comments andconjectures are made, one hurries the other,--all is commotion, noise,and confusion. All this effort and all this toil are for the strangeras well as the acquaintance, to entertain every one, whether he hasbeen seen before or not, or whether he is expected to be seen again, inorder that the casual visitor, the foreigner, friend, enemy, Filipino,Spaniard, the poor and the rich, may go away happy and contented. Nogratitude is even asked of them nor is it expected that they do nodamage to the hospitable family either during or after digestion! Therich, those who have ever been to Manila and have seen a little morethan their neighbors, have bought beer, champagne, liqueurs, wines,and food-stuffs from Europe, of which they will hardly taste a biteor drink a drop.
Their tables are luxuriously furnished. In the center is a well-modeledartificial pineapple in which are arranged toothpicks elaboratelycarved by convicts in their rest-hours. Here they have designed afan, there a bouquet of flowers, a bird, a rose, a palm leaf, or achain, all wrought from a single piece of wood, the artisan being aforced laborer, the tool a dull knife, and the taskmaster's voice theinspiration. Around this toothpick-holder are placed glass fruit-traysfrom which rise pyramids of oranges, lansons, ates, chicos, and evenmangos in spite of the fact that it is November. On wide plattersupon bright-hued sheets of perforated paper are to be seen hams fromEurope and China, stuffed turkeys, and a big pastry in the shape ofan Agnus Dei or a dove, the Holy Ghost perhaps. Among all these arejars of appetizing _acharas_ with fanciful decorations made fromthe flowers of the areca palm and other fruits and vegetables, alltastefully cut and fastened with sirup to the sides of the flasks.
Glass lamp globes that have been handed down from father to son arecleaned, the copper ornaments polished, the kerosene lamps taken outof the red wrappings which have protected them from the flies andmosquitoes during the year and which have made them unserviceable;the prismatic glass pendants shake to and fro, they clink togetherharmoniously in song, and even seem to take part in the fiesta asthey flash back and break up the rays of light, reflecting them onthe white walls in all the colors of the rainbow. The children playabout amusing themselves by chasing the colors, they stumble and breakthe globes, but this does not interfere with the general merriment,although at other times in the year the tears in their round eyeswould be taken account of in a different way.
Along with these venerated lamps there also come forth from theirhiding-places the work of the girls: crocheted scarfs, rugs, artificialflowers. There appear old glass trays, on the bottoms of which aresketched miniature lakes with little fishes, caymans, shell-fish,seaweeds, coral, and glassy stones of brilliant hues. These are heapedwith cigars, cigarettes, and diminutive buyos prepared by the delicatefingers of the maidens. The floor of the house shines like a mirror,curtains of pina and husi festoon the doorways, from the windowshang lanterns covered with glass or with paper, pink, blue, green, orred. The house itself is filled with plants and flower-pots on standsof Chinese porcelain. Even the saints bedeck themselves, the imagesand relics put on a festive air, the dust is brushed from them andon the freshly-washed glass of their cases are hung flowery garlands.
In the streets are raised at intervals fanciful bamboo arches, known as_sinkaban_, constructed in various ways and adorned with _kaluskus_,the curling bunches of shavings scraped on their sides, at the sightof which alone the hearts of the children rejoice. About the frontof the church, where the procession is to pass, is a large and costlycanopy upheld on bamboo posts. Beneath this the children run and play,climbing, jumping, and tearing the new camisas in which they shouldshine on the principal day of the fiesta.
There on the plaza a platform has been erected, the scenery beingof bamboo, nipa, and wood; there the Tondo comedians will performwonders and compete with the gods in improbable miracles, therewill sing and dance Marianito, Chananay, Balbino, Ratia, Carvajal,Yeyeng, Liceria, etc. The Filipino enjoys the theater and is a deeplyinterested spectator of dramatic representations, but he listens insilence to the song, he gazes delighted at the dancing and mimicry,he never hisses or applauds.
If the show is not to his liking, he chews his buyo or withdrawswithout disturbing the others who perhaps find pleasure in it. Onlyat times the commoner sort will howl when the actors embrace or kissthe actresses, but they never go beyond that. Formerly, dramas onlywere played; the local poet composed a piece in which there mustnecessarily be a fight every second minute, a clown, and terrifyingtransformations. But since the Tondo artist have begun to fight everyfifteen seconds, with two clowns, and even greater marvels than before,they have put to rout their provincial compeers. The gobernadorcillowas very fond of this sort of thing, so, with the approval of thecurate, he chose a spectacle with magic and fireworks, entitled, "ThePrince Villardo or the Captives Rescued from the Infamous Cave." [78]
From time to time the bells chime out merrily, those same bells thatten days ago were tolling so mournfully. Pin-wheels and mortars rendthe air, for the Filipino pyrotechnist, who learned the art fromno known instructor, displays his ability by preparing fire bulls,castles of Bengal lights, paper balloons inflated with hot air, bombs,rockets, and the like.
Now distant strains of music are heard and the small boys rush headlongtoward the outskirts of the town to meet the bands of music, fiveof which have been engaged, as well as three orchestras. The band ofPagsanhan belonging to the escribano must not be lacking nor that ofSan Pedro de Tunasan, at that time famous because it was directed bythe maestro Austria, the vagabond "Corporal Mariano" who, according toreport, carried fame and harmony in the tip of his baton. Musicianspraise his funeral march, "El Sauce," [79] and deplore his lack ofmusical education, since with his genius he might have brought gloryto his country. The bands enter the town playing lively airs, followedby ragged or half-naked urchins, one in the camisa of his brother,another in his father's pantaloons. As soon as the band ceases, theboys know the piece by heart, they hum and whistle it with rare skill,they pronounce their judgment upon it.
Meanwhile, there are arriving in conveyances of all kinds relatives,friends, strangers, the gamblers with their best game-cocks and theirbags of gold, ready to risk their fortune on the green cloth or withinthe arena of the cockpit.
"The alferez has fifty pesos for each night," murmurs a small,chubby individual into the ears of the latest arrivals. "CapitanTiago's coming and will set up a bank; Capitan Joaquin's bringingeighteen thousand. There'll be _liam-po_: Carlos the Chinaman willset it up with ten thousand. Big stakes are coming from Tanawan, Lipa,and Batangas, as well as from Santa Cruz. [80] It's going to be on abig scale, yes, sir, on a grand scale! But have some chocolate! Thisyear Capitan Tiago won't break us as he did last, since he's paidfor only three thanksgiving masses and I've got a cacao _mutya_. Andhow's your family?"
"Well, thank you," the visitors respond, "and Padre Damaso?"
"Padre Damaso will preach in the morning and sit in with us at night."
"Good enough! Then there's no danger."
"Sure, we're sure! Carlos the Chinaman will loosen up also." Herethe chubby individual works his fingers as though counting out piecesof money.
Outside the town the hill-folk, the _kasama_, are putting on theirbest clothes to carry to the houses of their landlo
rds well-fattenedchickens, wild pigs, deer, and birds. Some load firewood on the heavycarts, others fruits, ferns, and orchids, the rarest that grow inthe forests, others bring broad-leafed caladiums and flame-colored_tikas-tikas_ blossoms to decorate the doors of the houses.
But the place where the greatest activity reigns, where it is convertedinto a tumult, is there on a little plot of raised ground, a fewsteps from Ibarra's house. Pulleys screech and yells are heard amidthe metallic sound of iron striking upon stone, hammers upon nails,of axes chopping out posts. A crowd of laborers is digging in theearth to open a wide, deep trench, while others place in line thestones taken from the town quarries. Carts are unloaded, piles ofsand are heaped up, windlasses and derricks are set in place.
"Hey, you there! Hurry up!" cries a little old man with lively andintelligent features, who has for a cane a copper-bound rule aroundwhich is wound the cord of a plumb-bob. This is the foreman of thework, Nor Juan, architect, mason, carpenter, painter, locksmith,stonecutter, and, on occasions, sculptor. "It must be finished rightnow! Tomorrow there'll be no work and the day after tomorrow is theceremony. Hurry!"
"Cut that hole so that this cylinder will fit it exactly," he saysto some masons who are shaping a large square block of stone. "Withinthat our names will be preserved."
He repeats to every newcomer who approaches the place what hehas already said a thousand times: "You know what we're going tobuild? Well, it's a schoolhouse, a model of its kind, like those inGermany, and even better. A great architect has drawn the plans,and I--I am bossing the job! Yes, sir, look at it, it's going tobe a palace with two wings, one for the boys and the other for thegirls. Here in the middle a big garden with three fountains, there onthe sides shaded walks with little plots for the children to sow andcultivate plants in during their recess-time, that they may improvethe hours and not waste them. Look how deep the foundations are,three meters and seventy-five centimeters! This building is goingto have storerooms, cellars, and for those who are not diligentstudents dungeons near the playgrounds so that the culprits may hearhow the studious children are enjoying themselves. Do you see thatbig space? That will be a lawn for running and exercising in theopen air. The little girls will have a garden with benches, swings,walks where they can jump the rope, fountains, bird-cages, and soon. It's going to be magnificent!"
Then Nor Juan would rub his hands together as he thought of thefame that he was going to acquire. Strangers would come to see itand would ask, "Who was the great artisan that built this?" and allwould answer, "Don't you know? Can it be that you've never heardof Nor Juan? Undoubtedly you've come from a great distance!" Withthese thoughts he moved from one part to the other, examining andreexamining everything.
"It seems to me that there's too much timber for one derrick," heremarked to a yellowish man who was overseeing some laborers. "Ishould have enough with three large beams for the tripod and threemore for the braces."
"Never mind!" answered the yellowish man, smiling in a peculiarway. "The more apparatus we use in the work, so much the greater effectwe'll get. The whole thing will look better and of more importance,so they'll say, 'How hard they've worked!' You'll see, you'll seewhat a derrick I'll put up! Then I'll decorate it with banners, andgarlands of leaves and flowers. You'll say afterwards that you wereright in hiring me as one of your laborers, and Senor Ibarra couldn'task for more!" As he said this the man laughed and smiled. Nor Juanalso smiled, but shook his head.
Some distance away were seen two kiosks united by a kind of arborcovered with banana leaves. The schoolmaster and some thirty boyswere weaving crowns and fastening banners upon the frail bamboo posts,which were wrapped in white cloth.
"Take care that the letters are well written," he admonished the boyswho were preparing inscriptions. "The alcalde is coming, many curateswill be present, perhaps even the Captain-General, who is now in theprovince. If they see that you draw well, maybe they'll praise you."
"And give us a blackboard?"
"Perhaps, but Senor Ibarra has already ordered one fromManila. Tomorrow some things will come to be distributed among youas prizes. Leave those flowers in the water and tomorrow we'll makethe bouquets. Bring more flowers, for it's necessary that the tablebe covered with them--flowers please the eye."
"My father will bring some water-lilies and a basket of sampaguitastomorrow."
"Mine has brought three cartloads of sand without pay."
"My uncle has promised to pay a teacher," added a nephew of CapitanBasilio.
Truly, the project was receiving help from all. The curate had asked tostand sponsor for it and himself bless the laying of the corner-stone,a ceremony to take place on the last day of the fiesta as one of itsgreatest solemnities. The very coadjutor had timidly approached Ibarrawith an offer of all the fees for masses that the devout would payuntil the building was finished. Even more, the rich and economicalSister Rufa had declared that if money should be lacking she wouldcanvass other towns and beg for alms, with the mere condition that shebe paid her expenses for travel and subsistence. Ibarra thanked themall, as he answered, "We aren't going to have anything very great,since I am not rich and this building is not a church. Besides,I didn't undertake to erect it at the expense of others."
The younger men, students from Manila, who had come to take partin the fiesta, gazed at him in admiration and took him for a model;but, as it nearly always happens, when we wish to imitate great men,that we copy only their foibles and even their defects, since we arecapable of nothing else, so many of these admirers took note of theway in which he tied his cravat, others of the style of his collar,and not a few of the number of buttons on his coat and vest.
The funereal presentiments of old Tasio seemed to have been dissipatedforever. So Ibarra observed to him one day, but the old pessimistanswered: "Remember what Baltazar says:
Kung ang isalubong sa iyong pagdating Ay masayang maukha't may pakitang giliw, Lalong pag-ingata't kaaway na lihim [81]--
Baltazar was no less a thinker than a poet."
Thus in the gathering shadows before the setting of the sun eventswere shaping themselves.