BY REX C. CATUBIG
Bangus smoke gets in your heart
Note: Battling a 2-hour human traffic in the attempt to go home from the Bangusan, my mind wandered: It was the eve of election year, and that year the Bangus Fest Kalutan was held on competing fronts: Downtown and the CSI grounds. This was my POV account.
On one hand, it’s promoted as Kalutan ed Dalan, a hark back to the Guinness record of being the longest grill at the time. On the other, it’s celebrated as CSI Arts and Music Festival, a throwback to the crowd drawing concerts of previous years.
But presumptuously wrong on both counts. Ernesto Go claims proprietary rights over the date and can rightfully claim the simultaneous events of April 30th as his birthday bash.
So with the help of a handful of fellow Jayceeken hardy enough to brave the madding crowd, he staked his claim on booths 66 and 67 at the CSI venue and there set up court for his blockbuster party ever.
The gracious Mayor Belen Fernandez hosted our group. She has always been a close ally in our cultural heritage advocacy and a friend.
As the festivities started, political legend former Speaker Joe de V, wife Gina, and son Cong Toff de Venecia, were taken around by the former Mayor and the revelers were just too eager and happy for the photo ops. The candidates for the local elections soon followed suit with their individual courtship dance.
When the merriment reached fever pitch, the noise decibel rose to supersonic level. Yet above the din of the binge drinkers, there was a wave of screams that got me curious.
Zigzagging my way towards where the mob euphoria was emanating, my wobbly gait led me close to the concert stage. I caught a glimpse of long haired performers through cracks in a forest of heads. At the same time, I was amused at the sight of nimble kids wedged in branches of trees to have a better view.
The audience interacted in sync with the musicians, singing along and acting out as told on cue.
I was left envious when they were urged to jump and jumped they did to the cadence of the music. I should probably have swung my cane up in the air!
The band was Ben and Ben, I found out, and they were singing Ride Home, a romantic tale of homing heart: “When I’m with you, home is never too far
And my weary heart has come to rest in yours
I found my way home”.
In an instant, I was transported back in time and got to thinking where I was going, where my heart was headed. And it struck me, the point of all these competing festivities is to light the fire of our being and give rest to our weary souls–maybe, just maybe, to find our way home–to self realization, to where our heart really lies.
“So many questions I’ve thrown to the skies
And all of the answers, I’ve found in your eyes…I found my way home”.
And when in midst of the yelling, the jumping, and the explosion of energy, torrential rain poured without let up, many were saying it’s a blessing. But I thought it was a heavenly bath, so that washed of pride and egotism, we can be rid of hubris that weighs us down and creates the barrier for harmony.
And thus having been drenched, we can again sing along, jump with joy, fan the flames feverishly as we grill bangus, such that the fishy smoke wafts up to heaven in prayerful supplication, then lovingly drifts towards the heart of Dagupan that is our beloved home.