Chapter 26

It was the eve of the fiesta in the town, and the air was filled with excitement, music, and bustle. Homes were adorned with colorful banners and draperies, and tables were set with sweetmeats and lavish foods. The noise of preparations filled every corner: servants scurried in and out, quarrels broke out over broken dishes, and the town was alive with a restless energy. All this work and celebration were for the stranger and the acquaintance alike, for the fiesta’s true purpose was to entertain everyone, from friends to foreigners, regardless of who they were.

The wealthier families brought out extravagant goods: imported wines, champagne, and European delicacies. Their tables were laid out with hams, stuffed turkeys, and pastries shaped like religious symbols. Fine glassware and decorated jars filled with pickled fruits and vegetables stood alongside piles of tropical fruit, some of which were out of season. The house was decked with flowers and lanterns, and even the saints’ images wore garlands and a festive air. Outside, bamboo arches and canopies were erected, and children played around the church, where the procession would pass.

In the plaza, a stage was set for the Tondo comedians, who would entertain with their dramatic performances, competing with the gods in improbable acts. The Filipino audience, while attentive, rarely applauded or hissed, preferring to watch in silent enjoyment. If displeased, they would simply chew their buyo or leave without disrupting the others. Meanwhile, firecrackers and fireworks filled the air, signaling the skill of the local pyrotechnists. The bands arrived, one by one, playing lively tunes as ragged children followed in tow, eagerly humming the melodies as soon as the music stopped.

Gamblers arrived, bringing their prized game-cocks and money for the cockfights, while the town’s elite prepared for a night of high-stakes gambling. The fiesta was a spectacle where everything was offered in the spirit of hospitality, and even the poorest townsfolk contributed, bringing their best food, fruits, and flowers to share.

The greatest commotion, however, was near Ibarra’s house, where workmen were building a new schoolhouse. Ñor Juan, the architect and foreman, was overseeing every detail, boasting that the school would be a model of European design, complete with gardens, fountains, and spaces for both boys and girls. He was determined to make the building a monument to his own expertise, dreaming of the fame he would gain once it was completed.

The school project had widespread support. The curate had agreed to bless the corner-stone, and donations from all sides flowed in. Even Sister Rufa, always practical, promised to fundraise if necessary, while Ibarra, though appreciative, made clear he would not burden others with the cost. The young students from Manila, impressed by his efforts, began to admire him as a model of leadership, though their admiration often focused more on his appearance than his ideals.

In the midst of the preparations, old Tasio’s gloomy premonitions still lingered, but they seemed distant in the face of the festive mood. As the sun set, events unfolded, shaping the town’s future in ways both expected and unexpected, though some foreboding shadows remained.

Thus, as the festivities neared their peak, everything seemed to be in place, though as the poet Baltazar once wrote, “When your arrival is met with joy and showy greetings, beware—hidden dangers may still lie in wait."