I went to Quiapo today. I usually attend the Saturday anticipatory mass in our parish but since I was cooped up in the house the whole day trying to finish some artwork that I promised some friends, I thought I would drive all the way to Quiapo to bask in the purity of the devotion to the Black Nazarene that many people display. I caught the 6:30 pm mass; it was perfect time since the procession of Black Nazarene replicas was winding up.

The piety that devotees during the annual Black Nazarene procession has always struck me emotionally. You just have to be there to appreciate it.

It's... raw passion and emotion. The whole thing is like a dance that's always teetering at the brink of complete and total mayhem; but it never does. Somehow, there is method to the madness. There is poetry in the chaos.
Sadly, this year's feast falls on a Monday. I would have gone on leave to be able to join the procession, but I have lots of important meetings. But I am hoping my meetings would end early and that I would still be able to catch the procession as it winds down towards the church. This would probably be around 10:00 pm.

Wish me luck.

And no, I don't really have plans of being able to hold the rope that pulls the image of the Black Nazarene through the sea of people; nor do I have intentions of scampering up the float to be able to touch the image.


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