A Woman's Impression of the Philippines

by Mary H. Fee

The Filipinos do not understand Santa Claus or the Christmas Tree. The giving of presents is by no means a universal custom of theirs, and such as are given are given on the festival of Tres Reyes, or The Three Kings, some six or eight days after Christmas. Mrs. C—— decided to give a Christmas festival to certain Filipino children, and she actually managed to disinter, from the Chinese shops, a box of tiny candles, and the little devices for fastening them to the tree. No Christmas pine could be found, but she got a lemon tree, glossy of foliage. With the candles and strings of popcorn and colored paper flowers, this was converted into quite the natural article. She invited several of us to dinner on Christmas Eve, and we went early to see the celebration.

A Rich Cargo of Fruit on the Way to Market

By half-past six o’clock, when the tropical dusk had closed down, the little guests began to arrive, each in charge of a servant. There were twenty-five twinkling, berry-eyed babelets with their satiny black down hanging like bangs over their eyes, and their tubby little stomachs covered with fine garments and bound about with gorgeous sashes. They squatted on their little heels and sucked their little thumbs, and waited in wondering patience for this strange mystery to occur. As many American children would have made the air noisy for a block around.

The windows of the house were thrown wide open, and the sliding doors which pull back all around the base boards were open too, so that the whole interior was visible from the street below. There a great crowd had gathered, men, women, and children, beggars, and many of the elder brothers and sisters of the favored guests within. Nearly every child was displaying a toy that seems to be the special evidence of Christmas in the Philippines—some sort of animal made of tissue paper and mounted on wheels. It is lighted within like a paper lantern, and can be dragged about. Great is the pride in these transparencies, and great the ambition displayed in the construction. Pigs, dogs, cats, birds, elephants, and tigers, of most weird and imposing proportions they are, and no few feuds and jealousies grew out of their possession.

When the coverings were drawn off the tree, and the candles were lighted, the crowd in the street waxed quite vociferous, but the babies merely uttered little ecstatic sighs. They took their presents and turned the toys over gravely, and sucked gingerly at the sweets. Then one by one they marched out to join their relatives and the transparencies.

We had a good dinner and drank to the homeland and a merry Christmas. Afterwards Captain C—— leaned out of the window and cried to us to look at the snow. The moon was just overhead, ringed round with a field of cirrus clouds. They were piled one on top of another, glistening and cool, with the sheen of real snow by moonlight. I have never seen such an effect in our own land, and only once subsequently here.

There was a ball that night, and we were all going. While we were at dinner, the waits came in and sang in the hallway just as in merry England they sing under the window. But if the English waits sing as badly as the Filipino ones, then the poetry of the wait songs is gone from me forever. These of ours were provided with tambourines, and they sang an old Latin chant with such throaty voices that it sounded as if the tones were being dragged out by the roots.

By half-past nine the local band, or one of them—for most Filipino towns rejoice in half a dozen—came round to escort us to the hall. This attention was, as President Harper always declared of the many donations to the University of Chicago, “utterly unsolicited on our part,” and was the result of a hope of largesse, and of a high Filipino conception of doing honor to the stranger. Preceded by the band and surrounded by a motley assembly of several hundred people, the children dragging their transparencies with them, we strolled up the quarter of a mile of street intervening between the Lieutenant and Mrs. C——’s house and the Filipino mansion where the ball was held. When we entered, the guests all rose to do us honor, and shortly thereafter the rigadon was called.

The ball differed little in its essential features from other balls, save that, owing to its being Christmas Eve, the Filipino men, in accordance with some local tradition, discarded the usual black evening dress, and wore white trousers, high-colored undershirts, and camisas, or outside Chino shirts, of gauzy piña or sinamay. This is the ordinary garb of a workingman, and corresponds to the national or peasant costume of European countries; and its use signifies a tribute to nationality.