Maundy Thursday used to be a solemn day in our town. After the mass of the Lord's Last Supper, we kept vigil of the Blessed Sacrament. The "Visita Iglesia" was a popular tradition where we joined other pilgrims in visiting seven churches as a form of homage to the Lord who died on the Cross. But the blaring videoke from the building fronting our house reminded me that the years of our noble tradition may have ended. The building occupants, who I presumed are migrants, croaked Frank Sinatra songs. I would have forgiven them had they stuck to ballads. But when they belted out songs of Bruno Mars, I bravely went to the Barangay Captain to complain. How dare they disrespect the solemnity of a long held tradition! And most of all, they had no right to invade my private space with their noise pollution. I must remember to recommend to Senator Sonny to file a bill imposing an excise tax on this horrible- negative externality

Good Friday used to be another sacred day. I remember that we were prohibited from having merriment to commiserate with the suffering  Christ. It helped that radio and TV stations went off the air, and the only available program was the airing of the Seven Last Words from churches' pulpits.

Technology saw to it that those days devoted to meditation and prayer are gone. It is mission impossible to wean the young and old from Netflix and computer games during Good Friday.

Good Friday was a procession day. We were clad in black as we lighted our candles in an evening procession. Wheeled "carrozas "which were bedecked with flowers carried images of Saints, most especially the Virgin Mary, depicting the Passion of Christ.   Penitents almost walked in lockstep with the music that was provided by the local band.

How times have changed! While our Mothers strictly prescribed dress codes for those who were joining the procession, I saw several teen- and old-agers clad in summer shorts and gaily chatting instead of praying. Many of the norms that we used to observe are fast disappearing one after the other.  

Once upon a time, brotherhood and sisterhood were alive in our town through religious organizations. They provided genuine opportunities for fellowship and growing together in faith and acts of mercy to serve others. I am afraid that they have become opportunities for "Marites" and "Marisol" to flourish and become sources of fake news. The commandment that "Thou shall not bear false witness against thy neighbor" is forgotten.

Traditions have also been lost in physical structures. Our church must have  been built  during the 16^th century. But the structure has been modernized (and I would say desecrated) with very little sense and respect for history. It is now a cornucopia of medieval, Byzantine, contemporary, and native architecture.

Unfortunately, families who could have helped preserve our history and traditions have all left our towns. My nephew Alan used to say that I am one of the few last Mohicans who have stuck it out despite the onslaught of migrants.

Call me a sentimentalist and old-fashioned. But I truly miss watching the "cenaculos" or Passion Plays. My nephew Angelo could not get over the sadness of being replaced as one of the 12 Apostles. This privilege was passed on to him from his great grandfather. In place of the traditional apostles are young ones who look like contestants with sashes bearing the Apostles' names. I miss the statue of "Ecce Homo" (Behold the Man). Instead,  the carriage is identified with a tarp "Pagputong ng Corona" (Crowning of Thorns).

Without the love for  traditions and  history, are we going for the better or for the worse?