Mathoms, etc.

Holy Week here in the U. S. is just like any other week. Except my co-workers with children work themselves up to a frenzy trying to shop for Easter basket stuff, paint eggs, hide eggs, prepare for their Easter meals. Our Holy Weeks in the Philippines were spent quietly, more of a religious holiday which is what it should be. Sometimes we'd stay in Manila, where the streets are deserted as everyone else has gone away for a mini vacation. We'd go up to Baguio City other times, not eat meat the whole weekend, watch The 10 Commandments on TV, participate in the Stations of the Cross or Visita Iglesia, and try not to make too much noise. Our Mum would reprimand us if we ever gave the impression that we were having fun. "Patay ang Diyos." would be her chilling reminder. I was always afraid that on Good Friday evenings, without God's protection, we'd fall prey to all sorts of mischievous or even evil spirits running loose on earth. Especially in Baguio where I always suspected manananggals were abroad . Easter Sunday couldn't come fast enough.