HIBALAG… sa sunod na pud?

Dear Journal,

I am new here in Silliman and I am still adjusting to the environment. This school has such a long history and it shares its fair share of memories with the acacia trees that populate the entire campus. It’s still June and not long before August starts, I have already heard about this two-week long celebration where you get to climb on a wall, touch a snake, pet a goat or even get married. I took the opportunity to research this talked about Silliman event as I was interviewing some of my upper-class men in my college. They say Hibalag is where you meet a love that is temporary and doesn’t transcend. It is an old friend that you only get to meet occasionally but you cherish deeply. Our teachers would narrate how they built their own booths in the early days of the booth fest and how it has been a yearly tradition. Some of my relatives who also studied here recalled so much memories during Founders Week. They described Hibalag as if it was something they hold dearly.

Mid-JULY

My curiosity grew bigger for every week that has passed in the early months of the first semester, while most people might say that the old tradition has died down I got so amazed to see how some of the students still help each other to build their booth--- their identity. I am proud that some of them still uphold the decades-long tradition, while it may be unavoidable due to some circumstances others tend to hire carpenters for load management. It has now transformed from the empty field that I pass through as I head to my PE class to a busy area where students gather and help each other.

Early days of AUGUST

Before Hibalag Booth Festival, we still must endure the sleepless nights of studying for our midterm exams and taking them a week before the festivities. I would often daydream inside our classroom and imagine how magical and awesome my first Hibalag would be. I took my exams and went to my organization’s booth to help; we were required to go there. But truth be told I’d still willingly volunteer myself so that I could experience booth building and know what the tradition is all about.

As I was hammering out our booth’s floor, I got to talk with someone from the student government. The person gladly shared to me how Hibalag is not only limited to the eleven days of fun and exciting activities, exhibits, and live music but it has also served its purpose in the community. Hibalag means “to meet”, to catch up with old friends and meet new ones. It is a celebration of cultural diversity and love for Silliman University. Its meaning also applies to the community that they have extended their hand with the help of the student government and university officials. They call it the “11 Days of Sharing”. And I didn’t hesitate to answer yes when I was asked if I could be one of their volunteers.

August 19 and the days ahead

Hundreds of students flood the surrounding area of the West Quadrangle and Amphitheater, wearing with pride their respective organization’s t-shirt. Cars and motorcycles inside the campus that would pass through would find a hard time making their way out. As the clock hits 5:30 PM, the orange skyline signals the students to light up their torch and prepare to walk forward. The parade has started and people around the downtown area await the arrival of the participants forming different contingents. As we were coming nearer to the Hibalag Booth area I can’t help but be amazed at how festive and fun this turned out to be, it went beyond my expectation. There was live music from local artists as well as performers coming from outside Dumaguete, the food stalls whose smoke invites you are filled with customers who were visiting the festivities, the booths were towering among each other as they showcase their pride and achievements as an organization.

I toured around the area and stopped only when the lights on the stage went out and the song “Closing Time” was being played. I sat inside one of the front booths and watched from afar a group of people dancing and singing together to the song. I stood up and finally went home. The rest of the days were history.

“All good things come to an end”, I bid farewell to Hibalag like how the Visayans say it to their friends, “Hibalag… sa sunod na pud”.

 

Al-khaizer Warad
14-1-00710