By MICHOLO MEDRANA
Crowds fill every available space, taking shelter under tarps and mausoleum roofs. In a small corner among day-old roses burns a solitary candle, standing tribute to the silent resident of the grave beneath. It’s these sights that fill cemeteries during Undas, a holiday treated as a celebration and a reunion in itself, where one could catch up with both the living–and the dead. The very nature of these celebrations has evolved over time, shaped by local customs and foreign influences.
Influenced Traditions
All Souls Day is a Catholic Church-instituted holiday for the honoring and visitation of departed relatives, known as Araw ng mga Patay or Undas in the Philippines. Although held on November 2, many Filipinos choose to celebrate days before, including All Saints Day and its bisperas, known as Halloween in western traditions. It is considered a Catholic holiday, as not all other religions strictly adhere to the practice. Some Protestant Christian groups as well as the Aglipayan Church have maintained the observation in their own beliefs, joining Catholics in cemetery visits.
Filipino traditions on death, among these being the beliefs and rituals concerning burial and visitation, are a mix of pre-colonial and colonial Catholic traditions. In the death of a relative, one can observe the myriad traditions reasoned with vestiges of Catholic doctrine, such as pasiyam or the nine-day novenas and the observation of the 40th day after death. These practices stem from Spanish influences over their occupation prior to the turn of the 20th century. Even then, indigenous traditions are still observed today, one example being panag-apoy in Sagada, Mountain Province, where families would burn blessed pieces of pinewood over graves during Undas, a practice originating from Kankaney groups in the area.
Western influences perpetrated through foreign films, television, comics and other popular cultural forms brought Halloween traditions as well as western stories of monsters and the supernatural into our collective consciousness. This adapted itself into local popular culture, with local media showcasing movies and TV specials not unlike their western counterparts, featuring localized ghosts and creatures. News programs such as “Magandang Gabi Bayan” were known for their Undas episodes involving creatures and supernatural experiences from around the country. This perpetrates a western element of horror among Undas traditions, ultimately striking fear in the audience.
These popular ghosts and creatures have merely been adapted into our culture from western media and influences, often contrary to our own cultures. As noted in the essay “Imported na Katatakutan” by Luna Siy, creatures such as the dwende and kapre maintain European and imperialistic influences in their manner of dressing and disposition. Other creatures directly contradict local institutions, such as that of the babaylan or village healer being rebranded as a bruja or witch. Influences like these only serve to alienate us from our cultural heritage, popularizing symbols reminiscent of our colonizers many years ago.
The Price of Festivities
People slowly fill cemeteries readied for the occasion. Tents are pitched to shield families outside from the heat of the sun as they gather around their family plots to eat, pray, and talk, all part of keeping vigil over the dead. While the atmosphere of the area could be described as festive, the solemnity of the grounds still remain, with prayers said at the vigils, while children and adults engage in activities, such as playing games, sharing stories, and reuniting with once separated members.
In mausoleums and among graves outside, children could be heard shouting in play, engaging in either field games or playing with toys, seemingly fueled on Halloween candies from the night before. Gone, however, are the devilish costumes of the western tradition, leaving the inner childlike spirit among them. For most families, the vigil would extend well into the night, often prompting stories of ghosts and monsters, popularized by commercial media.
The throngs of people present at Undas attract many ventures bringing their products and services to the cemeteries. Manufacturers of products such as candles, food products, and flowers increase production to meet the demand from the holiday, often at the expense of their own workers. Large flower shops and malls price small bouquets or half-dozen roses at P500 to P1,000, a two to four-fold increase compared to buying from distributors in flower markets, such as Dangwa in Manila, where the same six roses would cost no more than P200 in the days leading to Undas.
Outside these “essential” products in the observation of Undas, families still have to pay for the upkeep of their plots year round. Well-off families can hire caretakers to maintain their mausoleums. In the Manila North Cemetery, these caretakers live among the dead all year round, but are only paid P600 a year for their services. On the opposite end, families who are unable to pay for rent and maintenance risk having their dead evicted from their crypts. In the same cemetery, a number of empty, open graves are visible, while plots of common graves can be found tucked away near the fences. Other cemeteries are demolished for development: one in San Juan, Batangas was made to relocate its graves to make room for a private access road to a resort, to be utilized only by those who can afford it.
The ‘Great Equalizer’
This exploitation of private enterprises of what are supposedly public services and infrastructure affect the living as well: in the exodus of people to the provinces, both motorists and commuters shoulder high toll fees for traffic-laden highways, an effect of the private management of government services and infrastructure, leaving citizens at the mercy of capitalist hegemony. Major access roads such as the privately managed South Luzon Expressway have seen toll increases of 300 percent in a matter of years.
The rich can get preferential treatment over their remains, while the rest risk losing a final resting place, disturbed only to serve the interests of business, which they or their families may never be able to utilize or benefit from. Even the dead have not completely escaped the problems of society, and, with the living, are not exempt from the abuses of capitalist dicta. This class divide extending to the already dead contradicts the notion of death as the great equalizer.
The realities of commercial and private exploitation do not receive as much attention as ghost stories told during Undas. These do not just haunt ordinary consumers and workers, as even the dead are still subject to the whims of private interest. The very state of our own cemeteries as well as the treatment of the dead themselves is eerily reflective of our state today, and the treatment of our own people. Sometimes, dead men do tell tales. ●
Published in print in the Collegian’s November 13, 2013 issue with the title “In Memoriam.”