Philippines
Metro Manila
For sale and for faith: Vendor finds livelihood and devotion in silver mats laid before the Andas
For sale and for faith: Vendor finds livelihood and devotion in silver mats laid before the Andas
Long before the Andas of Jesus Nazarene rolls through the crowded streets of Manila, thin sheets of silver-colored plastic are already spread across the asphalt, waiting for devotees who believe that lying on the ground as the carriage passes is an act of humility, sacrifice, and deep faith.
For Rogelio, 57, a vendor who has been selling the silver mats since pre-pandemic, the Traslacion is not just a day of business. it is a livelihood tied closely to devotion.
“Nagbebenta ako, pero hindi lang para kumita. Panata rin ito kasi deboto rin po ako.,” he said, arranging neatly folded sheets near the procession route (I sell these not just for earning. This is also a vow as I'm also a devotee).
The silver mats, often made of thin plastic or foil-like material, serve a simple purpose: to shield devotees from the heat, dirt, and rough pavement as they lie flat on the road moments before the Andas passes overhead.
Rogelio said demand peaks just hours before the Traslacion, when devotees rush to buy mats after securing a spot along the route. Some buy one for themselves, others purchase extras to share with fellow devotees.
“May bumibili kahit hindi para sa sarili nila. Ibinibigay nila sa iba, lalo na sa matatanda. (Some buy not for themselves. They give them to others, especially the elderly)," he said.
Each mat sells from P20 to P35, but Rogelio said earnings are never guaranteed. Some years, rain ruins supplies; other times, strict crowd control limits where vendors can stand. Still, he returns every year.
“Kahit mahirap, bumabalik ako (Even if it’s hard, I keep coming back),” he said. “Dito ako pinagpala (This is where I’ve been blessed).”
As the crowd thickens and chants of “Viva!” echo through the streets, Rogelio steps back, watching as devotees carefully lay down the mats he sold, preparing themselves for the moment the Andas passes.
In those brief seconds, commerce disappears, replaced by silence, prayer, and bodies pressed to the ground.
For vendors like Rogelio, the Traslacion is a reminder that in Quiapo, faith and survival walk the same road, sometimes on bare feet, sometimes on silver mats, always toward the same sacred image.