I was a U.P. student for eight years – four as an undergrad and another four as a law student. I have experienced the lantern parade both as a participant and as a mere observer. But last December 18 was the first time I attended the annual event with my family – the first time that everyone was free from school and work.

We made plans well ahead of time. As a former student, I was well aware that the academic oval would be off limits to vehicles a few hours before the parade started so I checked. I wanted to make sure that we could get in so I called up the U.P. Police Force to ask what time traffic would be rerouted. Two o’clock, I was told. A little after noon, we were on our way.

We entered the campus a little after one o’clock. We hadn’t had lunch so I figured why not make the most of the day by visiting old haunts? We had lunch at Chateau Verde; coffee and dessert afterward at Chocolate Kiss. Then, we found a convenient parking space. It was time for a first view of the lanterns that were starting to be transported to the assembly area.

We walked. And it was a long walk. And the feeling is indescribable. To walk under the same old trees. To step on the same pavements. To see the same buildings and some new ones too… Because we wanted a vantage point for taking photos, we positioned ourselves right behind the administration building where the lanterns would stop for the judging.

I’m not one to get affected by the blast of Christmas carols in department stores and supermarkets. I’m not one to feel the Christmas spirit by listening to newscasters make the daily countdown to the big day. But when the U.P. administration building suddenly seemed to float amid the choral rendition of traditional Christmas carols, it really felt like Christmas.

After two hours, the first lantern came into view. It was marvelous.

Not only because of the visual feast but for the overwhelming nostalgia that only a U.P. alumnus can feel. The lanterns were paraded, one after the other, amid cheers and much heckling, and the only thing I could think of was how the lantern parade was my idea of a real festival. The competitive spirit was there, all right, but the desire to win remained untainted by the all-too convenient strategy of seeking sponsors to raise enough funds to come up with drop-dead gorgeous lanterns.

That thought took me back to 2007. In Baguio City. At the Panagbenga Festival. We went there for the same reason that we went to the U.P. Lantern parade last December 18 – to experience the event as a family and to take photos, a family obsession. We expected to see flower-laden floats and we saw a lot of them. But we saw more than flower-decked floats. At the Panagbenga, floats are sponsored by corporate businesses. In the parade, not only are the floats preceded by streamers bearing the name of the sponsor, the corporate logo of the sponsor often figured prominently in the float too. And something really jarred.

Of course, the goal of the Panagbenga is entirely different from that of the U.P. Lantern Parade. The Panagbenga is not only about competition but also about marketing the city to tourists, local and foreign. But what is often forgotten is that marketing a city to tourists means capitalizing on the natural attractions of the place. It is the soul of a place, after all, that makes it unique. And when the soul vanishes to give way to the presence of corporate businesses, then, something is wrong. And that was how I felt while watching and photographing the floats during the 2007 Panagbenga Festival – that they were more of a showcase for big business than a representation of Baguio as a city of flowers.

But that was not the worst part. Because 2007 was an election year, there was a float for senatorial candidates. Tessie Oreta and Ed Angara were throwing down t-shirts and candies to the crowd that jumped and elbowed and jostled to catch a few items. And the scene made me think of lords and ladies, señors and señoras, throwing crumbs and alms to the poor. And there was Mike Defensor in a pink shirt on horseback. I wanted to barf.

Last December 18 in U.P. while watching the lantern parade, I thought about all that. And I felt proud that the same kind of corporate and political trash has not marred the annual Christmas festivities (we didn’t stay for the announcement of winners but up until the last set of lanterns from the College of Fine Arts, I didn’t see business logos nor candidates for the 2010 elections). And I felt even more proud that, true to its traditions, the idea of a beautiful lantern in U.P. in not merely about its visual appeal but, more so, the social relevance that it represents.

Many of the lanterns had environmental concerns…

… and political issues for their themes.

The delegation of the U.P. Babaylan, a gay, lesbian, bisexual and transgendered (lgbt) students’ organization, with the flamboyant costumes was especially memorable.

How much longer before the U.P. Lantern parade is polluted by the kind of garbage that has spoiled the Panagbenga Festival? Forever, I hope. But state funding, essential to maintain high academic standards, has been a perennial issue in U.P. Most are aware that the university has signed a contract with Ayala Land for the development of a techno park in what used to be a sprawling idle land, owned by the University, along Commonwealth Avenue. What the long-term effects of U.P.’s business ventures will be, no one knows.

When my friend Mabel called on June 28 and asked if I would like to join her and two of her girl friends, Osang and Cynthia, on a Southeast Asian cruise on November, it took me all of two seconds to decide. We’d fly to Singapore, board the ship there then cruise to Malaysia and Thailand then sail back to Singapore. Mabel and Cynthia would fly back to Manila but on the same day, Osang and I would board the ship again for the second cruise. Mabel e-mailed the dates, ports of call and rates to me an hour later, and it was a go.

The five-month wait was nerve-wracking but on November 19, we finally flew to Singapore where we stayed overnight before boarding the ship the next day. Then, the feasting began. Feast for the tummy, feast for the senses, feast for the mind. The ship is named Legend of the Seas in the fleet of the Royal Caribbean – ten decks, 867-foot long with a gross tonnage of 70,000 and a passenger capacity of 2,067.

We boarded the ship at noon on November 20 and a scrumptious buffet lunch was awaiting us at the Windjammer Cafe on Deck 9. Between lunch and the 5.00 p.m. sailing time, we whiled the hours beside the pool, glasses of Singapore Sling and cognac in hand. By sundown, we were at sea.

As the ship pulled out of port, I barely had time to take photos of the sunset as it was time to get ready for dinner. Unlike the casual buffet set-up at the Windjammer Cafe, dinner at the Romeo & Juliet dining room was a sit-down affair. It was hard to choose which appetizer was best, the waiter suggested we leave everything to him and I must say it was a wise decision. He brought us plates of escargot swimming in pesto and cheese for starters, grilled fish for the main entree and a souffle which he pierced to pour in some custard for dessert.

The thing about cruising is how the food parade never seems to end and you don’t pay for anything extra because, except for the alcoholic beverages and the soda, everything is included in the package. You can have an early breakfast at the Windjammer Cafe and a second breakfast at the main dining room, and do the same thing for every meal, and live the life of a glutton if you can manage to digest everything before the next meal. Pizza, burgers and hotdogs are served all day until around midnight at Deck 10, coffee and tea are free-flowing, and there is a frozen yogurt dispenser near the pool. If you still feel hungry after all that, there’s room service.

But enough about the food. Let’s talk about the musical entertainment.

While a Mexican duo performed at the poolside during the afternoons, the real action was at the center of the ship (aptly called the Centrum) after dinner.

One of the performing bands, Vicki and the Holding Company, was made up entirely of Filipinos. Vicki did the vocals, her husband Cris played the guitar, Ike was on the drums and Boy on the keyboard.

They played dance music and we had a blast dancing most nights away.

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According to the news, the price of Christmas ham will probably go up by another seven per cent next week. The announcement was made by the president of the supermarket association who did not clarify whether the organization was imposing the price increase arbitrarily to mercilessly jack up its members’ profits or whether it is the result of the law of supply and demand.

The law of supply and demand says that the higher the demand and the lower the supply, the higher the prices. But it doesn’t look like there is any shortage of Christmas ham. Just go to the supermarkets – the shelves are filled to the brim. And I am quite sure that, like last year, excess inventory of Christmas ham will be sold at bargain prices after the holidays. Less profit is still better than no profit, after all. But what happens to those that are nearing their expiration dates? There is this interesting story about how hotdogs are always tastier after the holidays because they are made with unsold ham. True or not? Search me. Told you it’s a story.

Not that the rising price of ham is a personal concern. I consciously refrain from buying traditional Christmas food items precisely because it makes me feel like a victim of swift and incisive robbery. But for those who feel that no Noche Buena meal can be complete without the Christmas ham, I wonder… do you even know how ham first figured on the Christmas Eve meal? It has nothing to do with the birth of Jesus, I tell you. It may, however, have everything to do with paganism.

Don’t faint. I’ll explain as best as I can.

Today’s youngster’s know Ragnarok as a highly addictive multi-player role playing online game that originated from the South Korean manhwa (comics; cartoons) by Lee Myung-jin. Ragnarok, however, predates online gaming by many, many centuries. In Norse mythology, Ragnarok refers to a series of events, including a prophecy and the concurrence of natural disasters, that led to global inundation.

And just what has that to do with the Christmas ham? Patience, patience… I’ll get to that.

One of the Norse gods that figures prominently in the Ragnarok is Freyr, twin brother of the beautiful Freyja. Freyr was associated with farming, harvest and boars. Serving a boar’s head with an apple in it mouth on a gold or silver platter during the midwinter festival, the Scandinavian Jul, was a traditional offering to invoke the good graces of Freyr all throughout the coming year. Interestingly, the boar offering is uncannily similar to the way we serve a whole lechon, another dish associated with festivities.

Jul is the Scandinavian term for Yule. If you’re wondering where the term Yule season and Yule log and Yule singing came from, well, it comes from that pagan midwinter festival called Jul.

If you’re familiar with the history of Christianity, or at least one version of it, you would know that to convert people from paganism to Christianity, the Christian church authorities found it convenient, and best, to successfully assimilate the old pagan customs with new Christian traditions. For instance, let’s be reminded that the singing of Christmas carols was not originally part of Christian traditions as they were frowned upon as a segment of pagan festivities. In fact, hymns in church service were forbidden until in 1223 Saint Francis of Assisi introduced Nativity hymns during Christmas Midnight Mass and the practice caught on.

In her book “Gods and Myths of Northern Europe”, Dr. Hilda Roderick Ellis Davidson, English antiquarian and academic, says that by the 12th century, Christianity was well-entrenched in Europe although many pagan legends and practices survived. Christmas on December 25 and the midwinter festivities, well, it isn’t hard to imagine how the practice of serving ham transcended the assimilation of practices.

In “The Goddess Obscured: Transformation of the Grain Protectress from Goddess to Saint,” Pamela Berger goes farther by saying that Saint Stephen may have inherited the Christmas ham tradition from the old Norse pagan practices. As an aside, Saint Stephen, the first martyr of the Christian Church, was stoned to death after having been found guilty of blasphemy by the Sanhedrin (Jewish council) and Saint Paul figures prominently in his stoning. Paul, a Jew prior to his conversion to Christianity, watched the stoning with approval as written in Acts 22:20.

Saint’s Stephen’s day is December 26 (December 27 in Eastern Christianity). In Western Christian art, he is often depicted being stones by a crowd or as a young man carrying three stones and a palm. In old Swedish art, however, he is said to have been depicted bearing a boar’s head to a Yule banquet. I don’t think I need to spell it out but, just to be clear, Scandinavia, a term coined in the 1800s to designate countries with common Nordic linguistic and literary origins, refers to a region in northern Europe and is comprised principally of Denmark, Norway and Sweden (Finland and Iceland are sometimes included).

So, if anyone accuses you of paganism for serving ham with the Noche Buena meal, don’t take offense. It just might be true.