As our dad is a devotee of the Black Nazarene and our mum a faithful Marian follower, it is but natural for my sister Lilith and I to spend our adolescent Christmases in the church of the Cute Monkeys (or worse, Cash Muna), a stone's throw from our high school.
We belong to the M.U.S.I.C. (Ministry of the United Students in Christ) Choral group of the parish. Since most of the parishioners are student transients who return to their provinces on Christmas Break, it was up to our group to sing the Christmas dawn masses for 9 days straight. Usually, the student transient members would attend the first 2 or 3 masses because it's their prelim week before the Christmas break. The night before they return to their province, the choir usually holds its Christmas party where we eat (potluck, in times of drought - which was very rare), play parlor games and of course, exchange gifts. After that, we would go to the carnival along Roxas Boulevard and stay there until it's time for Simbang Gabi. We would get on scary rides and shout our lungs out of excitement and anticipation (to the dismay of our choir master!). We would take lots of pictures to cherish when they've gone to their families in the provinces.
Most of us left for the holidays are teenagers who dreaded walking to church on a chilly dark December morning. The Misa de Gallo also involved hours of practice at the back chapel (which also served as a mortuary for the faithful departed) and nightly rehearsals at the darkened closed church. To sing for the dawn masses also meant that you will not be seated with your relatives or friends or sleep in between songs because the choir sits very near the pulpit where the priest gives his homily. Although we would have like to sleep a little longer during the chilly nights and be late, we think about the lengthy scoldings we will definitely get from the priest, the choir master and of course, the lectors AFTER the mass.
Despite the consequences, my sister and I never fail to miss any of the Misa de Gallo we had during those times. Many people believe that if one completes the Simbang Gabi, their petitions will come true. So far, so good...we've never missed a Simbang Gabi when we were still with the choir. We pitied the people who had to stand the whole hour for the mass while we are seated comfortably near the altar. Church devotees sponsor delicious breakfasts after the mass like hot porridge with boiled eggs and cold orange juice, rice cakes and ginger ale, or hot chocolate with suman. Charitable priests would often share with us fruits or sweets given to them during offertory. We could chat animatedly with our choir mates until the 6AM bell from the high school rang. We also enjoy the privilege of receiving the Eucharist before the entire laity lines up in front of the priest. My sister fondly remembers how traditional Philippine Christmas carols will play an hour before the mass. We would sing along and if we're in a jolly mood, deliver a full choral rendition of the song - to the delight of the early church goers and our choir master.
Our routine during the Christmas break would typically start after the mass. My sister and I would go home (as stealthily as we could)and raid the fridge before our brothers wake up for breakfast. My mum usually has a hidden stash from their office commissary: cartons of imported Australian chocolate milk, danish cookies and Swiss chocolates. Later on, after eating our fill, we would go back to bed and sleep until it's lunch time. One of us would do mundane household chores (doing the dishes or the laundry) or tend the family store. We prefer the latter but it depends on who wakes up first. Around 6PM, our choir mates will fetch us from the store for choir practice. If the mass sponsors are extravagant, our dinner would be in between practice. Dinner would consist of a cup of rice, some meat and vegetables and juice. If the sponsor is a cheapskate, no dinner until choir practice is finished. We would eat at home, digest our meals while watching some holiday TV show and sleep early after we've set the alarm clock at 3AM. We would wake up around 3AM and wash our face (we cannot take a bath...water is freezing cold!). We would grab a bite of chocolate and wash it down with a little water. We change our clothes and rush out of the house in the dark streets of Ermita. Before, we would get scared walking by ourselves. Eventually, since we would meet our choir mates along the way, we were comforted by the thought that we will meet them before we get to church. Our choir master would have us vocalize before the mass before, but eventually, he would just practice the song line-up and of course, the responsorial psalm soloist for the day. Then there would be the mass, where we usually fight the urge to sleep, and after we hear the priest's final blessing - our stomachs are already grumbling. Then there is eating and socializing time. Lilith and I will get to stare openly at the cute altar boy who assisted father or we get to small talk the handsome lector of the first reading or we would just talk about the food we're eating.
A day before the high mass, we would practice the whole day at the back chapel. Food and drinks would be supplied abundantly. By the time we get home, it's already dark and almost everybody in our house would have been asleep. Although tired, we look forward for the last Simbang Gabi. It meant no more waking up in the wee hours of the night to get to church on time but that also meant less fridge raiding.
Catholic church high masses are full of glamor and splendor. It gives me the goosebumps just to witness it. Christmas masses are not as spectacular as the Easter mass but nevertheless more joyful. You get to see people wearing their newest, most fabulous clothes that they could buy/been given/got for free. Children, as small as dolls, tag along with their parents sleepily. Teenagers fashionably grunge, stand with their fellows at the aisles or teeter close to the church doors for a quick smoke. Families come in complete attendance (which makes me wonder, who gets to guard the dining table laden with Noche Buena?). Although the high mass is longer than the usual mass, you'll be impressed with the devotion that people in the parish show in singing along with the choir, responding to the psalms and interacting with the priests and lectors.
Hohum...(Sniffle!)
It'll be 4 days before Christmas Eve in the Philippines. The choir has long been disbanded. Our choir master has migrated to Italy. My sister and I won't have any fridge to raid. We have missed too many Simbang Gabi to ever have any of the wishes come true. The priests from the Cute Monkey congregation are not the ones we grew up with. Some of our choir mates have gone abroad. One had already died of cancer. Many were already married with families and friends of their own - the MUSIC Ministry, a dream from the past.
Here I am, typing away at the still of this chilly December night. Christmas, I guess, will never be as fun as it was when we still attended the choir of the Cute Monkey parish.
We belong to the M.U.S.I.C. (Ministry of the United Students in Christ) Choral group of the parish. Since most of the parishioners are student transients who return to their provinces on Christmas Break, it was up to our group to sing the Christmas dawn masses for 9 days straight. Usually, the student transient members would attend the first 2 or 3 masses because it's their prelim week before the Christmas break. The night before they return to their province, the choir usually holds its Christmas party where we eat (potluck, in times of drought - which was very rare), play parlor games and of course, exchange gifts. After that, we would go to the carnival along Roxas Boulevard and stay there until it's time for Simbang Gabi. We would get on scary rides and shout our lungs out of excitement and anticipation (to the dismay of our choir master!). We would take lots of pictures to cherish when they've gone to their families in the provinces.
Most of us left for the holidays are teenagers who dreaded walking to church on a chilly dark December morning. The Misa de Gallo also involved hours of practice at the back chapel (which also served as a mortuary for the faithful departed) and nightly rehearsals at the darkened closed church. To sing for the dawn masses also meant that you will not be seated with your relatives or friends or sleep in between songs because the choir sits very near the pulpit where the priest gives his homily. Although we would have like to sleep a little longer during the chilly nights and be late, we think about the lengthy scoldings we will definitely get from the priest, the choir master and of course, the lectors AFTER the mass.
Despite the consequences, my sister and I never fail to miss any of the Misa de Gallo we had during those times. Many people believe that if one completes the Simbang Gabi, their petitions will come true. So far, so good...we've never missed a Simbang Gabi when we were still with the choir. We pitied the people who had to stand the whole hour for the mass while we are seated comfortably near the altar. Church devotees sponsor delicious breakfasts after the mass like hot porridge with boiled eggs and cold orange juice, rice cakes and ginger ale, or hot chocolate with suman. Charitable priests would often share with us fruits or sweets given to them during offertory. We could chat animatedly with our choir mates until the 6AM bell from the high school rang. We also enjoy the privilege of receiving the Eucharist before the entire laity lines up in front of the priest. My sister fondly remembers how traditional Philippine Christmas carols will play an hour before the mass. We would sing along and if we're in a jolly mood, deliver a full choral rendition of the song - to the delight of the early church goers and our choir master.
Our routine during the Christmas break would typically start after the mass. My sister and I would go home (as stealthily as we could)and raid the fridge before our brothers wake up for breakfast. My mum usually has a hidden stash from their office commissary: cartons of imported Australian chocolate milk, danish cookies and Swiss chocolates. Later on, after eating our fill, we would go back to bed and sleep until it's lunch time. One of us would do mundane household chores (doing the dishes or the laundry) or tend the family store. We prefer the latter but it depends on who wakes up first. Around 6PM, our choir mates will fetch us from the store for choir practice. If the mass sponsors are extravagant, our dinner would be in between practice. Dinner would consist of a cup of rice, some meat and vegetables and juice. If the sponsor is a cheapskate, no dinner until choir practice is finished. We would eat at home, digest our meals while watching some holiday TV show and sleep early after we've set the alarm clock at 3AM. We would wake up around 3AM and wash our face (we cannot take a bath...water is freezing cold!). We would grab a bite of chocolate and wash it down with a little water. We change our clothes and rush out of the house in the dark streets of Ermita. Before, we would get scared walking by ourselves. Eventually, since we would meet our choir mates along the way, we were comforted by the thought that we will meet them before we get to church. Our choir master would have us vocalize before the mass before, but eventually, he would just practice the song line-up and of course, the responsorial psalm soloist for the day. Then there would be the mass, where we usually fight the urge to sleep, and after we hear the priest's final blessing - our stomachs are already grumbling. Then there is eating and socializing time. Lilith and I will get to stare openly at the cute altar boy who assisted father or we get to small talk the handsome lector of the first reading or we would just talk about the food we're eating.
A day before the high mass, we would practice the whole day at the back chapel. Food and drinks would be supplied abundantly. By the time we get home, it's already dark and almost everybody in our house would have been asleep. Although tired, we look forward for the last Simbang Gabi. It meant no more waking up in the wee hours of the night to get to church on time but that also meant less fridge raiding.
Catholic church high masses are full of glamor and splendor. It gives me the goosebumps just to witness it. Christmas masses are not as spectacular as the Easter mass but nevertheless more joyful. You get to see people wearing their newest, most fabulous clothes that they could buy/been given/got for free. Children, as small as dolls, tag along with their parents sleepily. Teenagers fashionably grunge, stand with their fellows at the aisles or teeter close to the church doors for a quick smoke. Families come in complete attendance (which makes me wonder, who gets to guard the dining table laden with Noche Buena?). Although the high mass is longer than the usual mass, you'll be impressed with the devotion that people in the parish show in singing along with the choir, responding to the psalms and interacting with the priests and lectors.
Hohum...(Sniffle!)
It'll be 4 days before Christmas Eve in the Philippines. The choir has long been disbanded. Our choir master has migrated to Italy. My sister and I won't have any fridge to raid. We have missed too many Simbang Gabi to ever have any of the wishes come true. The priests from the Cute Monkey congregation are not the ones we grew up with. Some of our choir mates have gone abroad. One had already died of cancer. Many were already married with families and friends of their own - the MUSIC Ministry, a dream from the past.
Here I am, typing away at the still of this chilly December night. Christmas, I guess, will never be as fun as it was when we still attended the choir of the Cute Monkey parish.