But, as all things must, the meeting came to an end and, stretching our weary bodies, we accepted an invitation to view the town. Our progress was triumphal. In our flower-decked Victoria, with the municipal presidente on the little seat in front of us, Mr. Taft and I moved slowly along, one band in front of us blaring out “A Hot Time in the Old Town” with all the force of its lungs, and the other behind us doing its best to make itself heard and appreciated in a wholly original rendition of “Ta-ra-ra-ra-boom-de-ay.” Then came the other members of our party in nondescript vehicles which jolted and creaked.
Speaking of Filipino bands, it may be thought that my partial description of those in Lucena is exaggerated. Not at all. There are more bands in the Philippines, perhaps, than any other one thing. The Filipinos as a people are extremely musical and, in many instances, have proved themselves capable of reaching a high point of musical proficiency, but in the early days of American occupation a vast majority of the musicians were the rankest amateurs who played “by ear” only. They had never been taught, but they could play, after a fashion, anything that anybody could whistle, sing or pick out for them on any instrument. They had listened to the American regimental bands and they had made selection for their own repertoires of such pieces as were easiest to play, hence the popularity of “A Hot Time in the Old Town,” “Ta-ra-ra-ra-boom-de-ay,” “Won’t You Come Home, Bill Bailey” and things of like character. They did not know the words, or the “sentiment” of the songs; they knew only the tunes, and these they played at all times, for occasions either solemn or gay. Of my own experience I can testify that “A Hot Time in the Old Town” makes a perfectly good funeral march when reduced to a measure sufficiently lugubrious.
It didn’t take us long to see the town and when my ears could endure the discords no longer I explained to the pleasant little presidente that I thought it was necessary for the ladies to return to the transport for a rest before it was time to dress for the evening festivities. He protested that the town was ours, that his house and everything in it belonged solely to us, but I was backed up by my husband and the ladies finally were permitted to go out to the Sumner for a short respite. No such luck for the men. They had to attend a prodigious luncheon, an afternoon banquete really, and then continue, for the rest of the day, their interviews with Lucena citizens and American Army officers. And, be it remembered, it was insufferably hot.
The banquete and baile that evening were typical Filipino entertainments, novelties to me then and intensely interesting. It was a procession, a meeting, a banquete and a baile every day for nearly seven weeks unless by a happy turn of events it became necessary for us to sail for our next port in the afternoon instead of at midnight as we generally did. Under such circumstances, if any special entertainments had been prepared for the evening, such as torchlight processions, illuminations, or fireworks, they were duly produced in broad daylight, thereby losing much in general effect no doubt, but nothing in their proof of friendly intentions.
Processions and meetings may be just processions and meetings, but banquetes and bailes are not just banquets and balls, and that is why I always refer to them by their Spanish names.
We arrived at the banquete in Lucena at seven o’clock and found, in a great open room in a public building of some sort, a long table laden with mysteries. In the centre was a tremendous ornament, made entirely of toothpicks, built up to represent a flower garden. Whoever made it was a genius with both imagination and delicacy of touch. All along both sides of the table were strange, highly ornamental and formidable looking dishes which were evidently meant to be eaten. I didn’t know what they were, but having acquired a cosmopolitan attitude toward food I was not at all dismayed. My chief concern related to the fact that a Filipino host expects one to eat at least a little of everything that is served and through endless courses of elaborately prepared meats one’s appetite naturally becomes jaded.
The most important and distinguished Filipinos did not sit down at table with us. It is el costumbre del pais for the Filipino host to wait on his guests, to hover about and see that he enjoys what is given him, and until one gets used to it it is most disconcerting. The presidentes and fiscals and generals and other illustrados were not as skilful as trained servants and I found myself leaning this way and that in momentary expectation that one of them, in his excitement, would accidentally slip some sticky mixture down my back. There were speeches of course; there always are; and then more speeches, but we had to get to the baile, so they were not too long drawn out.
The baile was given in the Municipal Building where the meeting of the morning was held, and when we arrived we found the hall quite filled with guests. The Filipino women didn’t display so many jewels and fine garments in those days as now because, in certain quarters, the insurrectos were still levying tribute, but the girls and women, many of them quite pretty, were very gay in long, trailing calico skirts and jusi, sinamay or pina camisas, while the men were attired in all manner of garments from calico and
