“Christmas isn’t just a holiday for Filipinos—it’s an identity”
CHRISTMAS traditions are meant to bring us together—but let’s be honest, some are so odd they’re more likely to spark confusion than caroling.
Nowhere is this truer than in the Philippines, where our marathon holiday season makes the Tour de France look like a warm-up. Yet, believe it or not, we’ve got nothing on some global Christmas customs that could make even our Simbang Gabi look like a straightforward stroll to church.
The first Christmas Tree
The first recorded Christmas tree was in 16th-century Germany, where Martin Luther decorated a fir tree with candles. Yes, candles. Open flames on dry branches.
Clearly, fire safety was optional in 1500s Europe. Filipinos, however, took this idea and upgraded it with the parol, because why stop at one star when you can have every street in the barangay glowing brighter than EDSA traffic lights?
Christmas wasn’t always on Dec. 25
It turns out Christmas was slapped onto Dec. 25 to hijack a Roman pagan festival. Essentially, Saturnalia was the original office Christmas party: lots of drinking, questionable outfits, and at least one person sacrificing dignity. Filipinos, however, don’t need a pagan excuse.
Christmas starts in September, because why limit your holiday joy to a single month when you can stretch it across four—and still somehow run out of time to finish your shopping?
Chicken nuggets of joy
In Japan, Christmas means KFC. Thanks to a 1974 ad campaign, families now reserve fried chicken buckets months in advance.
Filipinos would never let this happen. If you tried serving KFC at Noche Buena, your lola would disown you on the spot.
Filipino Christmas requires lechon, pancit, queso de bola, and at least one mystery dish brought by a tita who “just threw something together” (it’s always spaghetti with hotdogs).
Santa Claus
Before Coca-Cola fattened him up, Santa Claus was a pale, thin bishop. Imagine trying to sell that Santa in the Philippines. One look at him, and your lola would shove a plate of kare-kare in his hands and yell,
“Kain ka, anak, ang payat-payat mo!” Thanks to Coca-Cola, Santa’s now the ideal Filipino guest: chubby, cheerful, and always bearing gifts—preferably crisp bills for the aguinaldo.
Rudolph
Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer was invented by a department store in 1939 to sell coloring books. Filipinos can relate.
Rudolph is basically the reindeer version of Jose Mari Chan, who appears every September to remind you that Christmas is coming—and that you’ll need to budget for godchildren, neighbors, and the barangay tanod.
The passive-aggressive carol
The line “We won’t go until we get some” was originally sung by servants demanding booze.
In the Philippines, this carol takes on new meaning during caroling. Try sending carolers away empty-handed, and you’ll quickly learn that “silent night” does not apply to disappointed children banging empty Coke bottles outside your gate.
Christmas before Magellan?
There’s a theory that Christmas was celebrated in Pangasinan centuries before Magellan arrived.
If true, it means the Philippines was ahead of the curve – like discovering K-pop before it was cool.
But let’s face it: whether Christmas started in 1320 or 1521, Filipinos would have turned it into a spectacle complete with lechon, videoke, and at least one aunt complaining about how loud it’s gotten.
Christmas in the cemetery
In Barangay Tanza, Iloilo City, people celebrate Christmas in a cemetery, complete with lights and decorations. It’s the Filipino way: no one gets left out, not even the dearly departed.
Other countries mourn their dead; we invite them to the party and give them the best seat—under the Christmas lights. And who knows?
Maybe the spirits join the festivities. Ghostly karaoke? Sounds like a hit.
Crisp bills
Forget mistletoe and eggnog. In the Philippines, Christmas is about one thing: fresh, crisp peso bills for the aguinaldo. Nothing says holiday spirit like standing in line at the bank, hoping to swap your wrinkled 500s for pristine 20s.
And if you hand out crumpled bills? Expect the children to politely accept them—then immediately gossip about how stingy you are.
Simbang Gabi
Simbang Gabi, banned in the 1680s for being “too festive,” is proof that Filipinos cannot be stopped.
Try banning anything festive now, and you’d have titas rioting in the streets with walis tambo.
Simbang Gabi isn’t just a religious tradition; it’s also an endurance test. Who can wake up for nine consecutive dawn masses without falling asleep during the homily? Pro tip: the answer is always your lola.
As the carols fade and the lechon dwindles, one truth remains: Christmas isn’t just a holiday for Filipinos—it’s an identity.
Whether it’s decking cemeteries in lights, turning caroling into cash flow, or making fried chicken a fine-dining affair, we’ve made the season our own.
So hold that parol high, treasure those crisp bills, and never forget: the world may try, but it will never out-Christmas the Philippines.
