A Good Friday

In the Philippines, Good Friday is the second largest national holiday, next to Christmas. Fortunately, though, it is not quite as annoying because of the lack of crucifixion carols. (Another year, I will take the few remaining readers of this blog to San Fernando where people actually nail themselves to crosses. Still, as far as I know there's no singing, so I'd still call it an improvement over the "-ber" months.)

Anyway, unlike in the U.S., Easter takes a distant second to the role of Good Friday during Holy Week. Everything is shut down on Friday, while most malls, restaurants, and stores are wide open on Sunday. Stephen thinks it's because the Bible spends a lot more time talking about the Passion than the resurrection, but I think it's just that Filipinos love the drama.

Our Good Friday was fantastically mellow and spent with good friends, Nonoy, Edith, another Nonoy, and his lovely wife Marita. Edith was recovering from recent surgery, hence being housebound on this normally Church-intensive day for her. We sat around their kitchen table for about six hours, eating, drinking, and playing guitar. Yeah, there was singing, but (the second) Nonoy is a professional singer, songwriter, and producer in the Philippines, so we're talking quality here. And everyone just pretended that they couldn't hear Stephen or me, so there's your Easter miracle.
After I had stuffed myself with spaghetti, prosciutto, tiramisu, and peanuts, Edith threw us out of the dining room briefly so that the helpers could set up for the real meal. What, more food? That's so typical of the hospitality here in the Philippines--what I might normally serve interlopers as dinner is just a warm up for the actual full course banquet. When will I ever learn? A surprisingly lovely Catholic holiday for this secular skeptic.