All Saints’ Day and All Souls’ Day in this predominantly Christian country of 106 million people is a celebratory affair.
It’s a day of remembrance and honor for saints—and the names of these saints in the Gregorian calendar crowd each of the 365, if common, or 366, if leap year, boxes for days.
On Nov. 1, Filipinos, whatever their religious affiliations, do not just remember and honor the saints they have asked previously to intercede for them in seeking God’s blessings.
They go to the graveyards—the manicured greens of private memorial parks or the now urbanized population centers or the often heavily crowded public town cemeteries often outside the populated municipal blocks.
Days before All Saints’ Day, kin of the departed troop to the graveyards and clean up the tombs or uproot wayward grasses including the “cadena de amor,” the Antigonon leptopus Hook & Arn. coral vine which is abundant in Philippine cemeteries.
On the day itself, relatives go to the graveyards to remember their departed kin 12 years and below, with those 13 years old and above remembered, with candles, food and masses the day after, or All Souls’ Day.
In the congested metropolis, where Manila lies by the placid bay, the celebration—often complete with ferris wheels and bunches of imported and locally grown different petals— approximates the hilarity of town fiestas marked by marching bands.
In some towns, the well-heeled surviving kin gather beside tombs or mausoleums of their departed and, among themselves, play cards, scrabble or mahjong, listen to music while killing time overnight until sunrise on All Souls’ Day when they pack for home.
These are days to remember the departed kin, but more importantly to pray for the forgotten.
