THE FESTIVAL REINVENTED
By: Iris P. Concepcion

I took a leisure time yesterday for less than an hour walking to Yala's fruit festival. I am simply assuming that it is a fruit festival as I am not familiar with Thai alphabets announcing the event. I do recognize its splashes of colorful fruits and pageantry though.

This is an approach adopted by Philippine fiestas too, only with finer twists. The venue for this year's festivity is well-secured as uniformed men litter the area. Bags are checked  for inspection at the main entrance. I surrendered mine with the inspector obviously baffled by the emergence of  my three perfume containers inside. My armory to foul smell.

The festival is  located near the beauteous, manmade lake I had written as a subject entry in this blog. The fruits sold are genuinely humongous; even the plants look like giants. It has an array of goods sold, from cooking oil (very, very affordable in clear containers) to dried fish. The durian seeds look like big rocks. Even the banana chips are tremendously large like anahaw leaves.

I am using hyperbole but these people are showcasing what they can do with their products and how they may be improved on. They are, moreover, meticulously packed. I have seen Mediterranean dates that are neatly wrapped in biodegradable cartons. Three hundred baht can go a long, long, long way here.

The food strip crosses all racial boundaries. I bought my Japanese maki at roughly 40 baht. I swear to Vishnu, this is one of the best tasting Japanese fare I have tasted in years. It carries wider varieties and comes in colorful variations. The vendor provides plates in blue and pink for the maki buffet in appetizing, marching circles. It includes a free wasabi. The festival likewise sold an Indian-inspired, sweetened roti  that tastes like barquillos, wrapped in a recycled paper. This paragraph is a multi-cultural annex of writing fusion. One must remember that Thailand is similar to India in the field of arts. Hence, finding Yamamoto here is a delectable surprise.

The fruits are not usual. Aside from the big, big santols,  durians, plums, passion fruit and mangosteens,  rambutans and pink-colored thorny balls (called grenade fruits by some) are likewise sold.  I had observed that underneath the King's picture, kids and adults alike can gather the fruits for free as they can friskly roam around the area with a nearby built-in playground. The more affluent  Filipinos back in Manila pay for these privileges in the malls.

There likewise sell pillow cases similar to our markets in the Philippines.

More than five performing stages are built for on-the-spot programs. The one fronting the maki store is the most opulent. It is like a set for a variety show. I have seen spa and massage stalls too.

The grapes are deliciously low priced. There are no tents for ukay ukays as special places are reserved for these in the other areas of Yala.


I do wonder before the raison-de-etre  of these festivals in shaping our economic destiny. I now have a full grasp of its terrain. It can be carnival-like without outshadowing the limitless products that Nature has given us. It is a showcase for people who could not afford highly-priced tags of fruits and food to have them. They are very confident about their products as they give out free samples of their fare to the public.

I came out fulfilled and my mind, off from crankiness as I read this in front of one stall:  Yala Technical College Food Industry Incubator.

Even the appearance of  signages rock.

I need to eat my santol now which is the size of my baby avatar's face as carried in my Facebook account. It is really, really, BIG. Better other knows how to distribute discounts to poor people like me. Sniggers. And the mangosteens are free at the foot of the King's picture.

To drift away from my usual musings, I have this ode to my non-participative role in nation building:

"I have not met the most successful businessmen in the Philippines nor have I seen their works outside their offices. I have not met Bill Gates nor his ultra hip, gadget bag. I have not discussed fiscal belt tightening measures with President Aquino. I have not met real agriculturists and I am naive about farming. I have not met Tom Cruise nor Brad Pitt nor Angelina Jolie. I have not been trained by a top-prized Thai boxer.  I have not been humored by Black Jack. I have not unnerved Liaam Neeson although I would love to borrow his twang. I have not been  taught  commodity pricing by a Harvard graduate nor its attendant remunerative repercussions to the economy. I have not swapped balls with either Matt Damon or Ben Affleck. I have not seen Robert de Niro either and his critique work on the nutritional value of Big Sheet, a Japanese junk food sold at 7-11. I have not been explained  on travel notices by Robin Williams. Keith Richards never knocked on that door. In short, I am clueless about the world and I never influence anybody in my line of work. I do the dishes, wash clothes, accompany my family with their grocery shopping that I adore so much.  I do know something about "good" maki when I taste one. I am sure never to meet John Updike nor Barrack Obama. And I do know how to be comfortable around galactical elephants whenever I pose with them with a big smile."