A Filipino Christmas in the Sixties
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A Tempongko-Alcantara family Christmas picture, circa 1960.
This was the high point of the festivities of the season, which began with the arrival of blustery winds from China in late November. In retrospect, it seems to me that we lived in an idyllic time that encapsulated a certain Filipino way of celebration which no longer exists in quite the same way.
We lived in the Manila district of Paco, whose Parish Church of Santo Sepulcro (the Holy Sepulcher) and parochial school, Paco Catholic, were run by Belgian priests and nuns of the ICM (Immaculate Heart of Mary) order, the same ones who administered St. Theresa’s College on San Marcelino Street in Ermita. Presiding over this Catholic enclave was the Reverend Godofredo Aldenhuijsen, a Dutchman, who had made it his mission to rebuild the war-damaged church and establish the largest parochial school in the land, both aims he duly and heroically accomplished.
In European fashion, the nuns (speaking Flemish or French to each other) in near-medieval outfits would supervise the setting up of a life-size creche in the church’s frontal side altars. All figures from the Nativity, including angels, shepherds, and the Three Magi were present, with the exception of the Christ Child who would duly appear on Christmas Eve. The nuns would finish off this spectacle with cotton snow reminiscent of their homeland during Christmas in Brussels, Louvain, or Antwerp.
The Paco Catholic School Boys Glee Club would be primed by choirmaster, Father Jan Van der Steen, to sing at the Christmas Mass at the Manila Cathedral and to do Christmas carols at various private homes in the spirit of the season. Among songs they would practice were the classics “Silent Night,” “Joy to the World,” “O Holy Night,” “Sussa Nina,” as well as the contemporary “Jingle Bells,” and “Ang Pasko ay Sumapit.”
“Our father’s treat would be to take on a car ride to Quezon City to view either the COD Department Store display in Cubao, or the moving figures in the Christmas tableau on top of the Pepsi Cola building on Aurora Boulevard.”
In Paco Market, decorative faroles or multicolored Christmas lanterns made of bamboo, cellophane, and Japanese paper would appear as harbingers of the forthcoming holidays. Houses on our street would vie with each other on who had the best lantern to represent the Star of Bethlehem.
Farther from the district, Echague Street and La Quinta Market in Quiapo were the places to buy the pineapple-flavored King Sue ham as well as imported Chinese grapes, oranges, and chestnuts that signaled end-of-the-year feasting.
My older sister Cynthia’s fair skin and long, flowing tresses had always made her popular for the roles of maidens and the Virgin Mary in school plays. Besides having portrayed Mother Mary at the foot of the Cross in the Lenten Pageant of San Juan de Letran College in Intramuros, and a Roman lass in “The Appian Way” of Maryknoll College, Cynthia was regularly drafted to play the Madonna at the Christmas tableau in St. Theresa’s College. It was fascinating to see ordinary Theresians transformed into Biblical figures in frozen poses, such as a fully bearded colegiala as St. Joseph and our sister as Mary, his spouse. To our family’s amusement, it was recounted that in a similar Christmas pageant in another school, the Virgin Mary had fallen off the rocking horse that represented the donkey carrying her to Jerusalem.
My mother would busy herself with mysterious trips to the Escolta and to such shops as Alemar’s or Rustan’s. No doubt, it would be to stock up for the packages that were destined for the bottom of the Christmas tree at our grandmother’s house. An early surprise would be the new shoes from Gregg Store or Ang Tibay or the matching outfits from Aguinaldo’s for the boys and the costurera dresses for the girls.
In the meantime, our father’s treat would be to take us on a car ride to Quezon City to view either the COD Department Store display in Cubao, or the moving figures in the Christmas tableau on top of the Pepsi Cola building on Aurora Boulevard. We never got tired of the mechanized shepherds bowing down in obeisance to the Holy Family or the Three Kings riding on top of their camels in a decorous ride around the creche.
The Manila COD Christmas Display in Araneta Center, Cubao (Source: Philippine Star)
The Christmas tableau atop the Pepsi Cola Building on Aurora Blvd. (Source: Philippine Star)
Despite the cold, a trip to Magnolia’s ice cream parlor to taste their new Christmas flavor (such as Bisque Tortoni) was always a welcome treat. Other alternatives would be longer trips to Chocolate House in Malate or a restaurant in Chinatown, or indeed a cruise on the Matorco double-decker on Roxas/Dewey Boulevard. Our father’s favorite motto was “Let’s jump into the car and go!” Unlike today, traffic was never an issue then, even at Christmastime.
Misa de gallo or Mass at the Cock’s Crow was for the hardy folk who could brave the morning chill to go to Mass at 4:30 a.m. The treat would be the puto bumbong and the bibingka or ricecakes sold outside the church.
Christmas Eve would be marked by my grandmother’s fasting with tuyo (dried fish), vinegar, and rice for dinner. At the Midnight Mass crush at Paco Church, it was not unusual for people to faint due to the sheer number of people crammed into a small space. Perhaps, for this reason, my parents decided to forego this ritual and attend the last Mass on Christmas afternoon.
More exciting for us children than the long Christmas High Mass was the unwrapping of presents (“from Santa Claus”) around the Christmas tree after a sumptuous dinner that we could barely appreciate due to our anticipatory mood. A gourmet might have noted the delicate chicken relleno, ham, fish, and exquisite desserts laid out on the table. Tucked among them would have been a dish from the recipe of our great-grandmother Leocadia L’heritier Tempongko.
Christmas Day was equitably spent shuttling between both sides of our family—lunch at my mother’s folks and dinner at my father’s own clan. The Tempongkos, with their flair for drama and music, would sometimes require their children to declaim a poem, sing, or participate in Filipino dances to demonstrate their talent. I remember that my poem was “Invictus” at one such reunion. I also recall Filipiniana dresses proudly worn at such occasions. I think it was a way in which our family linked up with its past in a very visceral way, in cuisine as well as in culture.
A Tempongko family picture from Christmas 1941, with members in Filipiniana.
It seems to me now that pre-Hispanic Filipino ancestor worship and clan rituals had been transformed into a Christian event, which those clever friars called Pasqua and which we now celebrate as “Paskong Pilipino.”
A career diplomat of 35 years, Ambassador Virgilio A. Reyes, Jr. served as Philippine Ambassador to South Africa (2003-2009) and Italy (2011-2014), his last posting before he retired. He is now engaged in writing, traveling, and is dedicated to cultural heritage projects
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