One thinks of Baguio when one hears the word “Panagbenga,” so much has the yearly festival of flowers done for the mountain city.
With its launch in February 1996, the Panagbenga, the “season of blooming” in the Kankanaey tongue, pulled in the visitors (and the needed business) when Baguio was in the doldrums, and gradually evolved into the month-long extravaganza that it is now. Predictably, it has also brought in the problems—traffic (both motorized and human) congestion, strained water resources, etc.—that usually come with such a huge project that is now by turns splendid and crass, awesome and overstretched.
But why talk Panagbenga at this late time of the year?
Because it instantly sprang to mind when news broke of the passing on Sept. 15 of its idea man, Damaso Bangaoet Jr., while on vacation in the United States.
The Panagbenga was a bright idea during the dark days when Baguio’s tourism sector was laid low by the devastating 1990 earthquake. Even during peak holidays the city had not been getting enough tourist activity. It needed a revitalizing event, to show tourists both domestic and foreign that the “city of flowers” was alive, well, and there for the visiting. Bangaoet, then vice president of John Hay Poro Point Development Corp., imagined a simple festival celebrating the blooming of flowers. From that seed grew a mighty tree, what is now the Philippines’ longest festival.
Bangaoet, a lawyer, health and wellness advocate, gardener, and art buff, among others, ran the Panagbenga for a time before turning over its management to others. But he remained its devoted cheerleader. Last February’s festival—the 19th staging—is estimated to have drawn more than the previous year’s 2.2 million visitors and helped Baguio generate more than P250 million for the entire year. “Through all these years I think we were able to do what we had to accomplish,” Bangaoet said in an interview with Inquirer Northern Luzon last February. “The festival has helped beautify the city. It made more people more conscious of beautifying their surroundings. Several flower-adorned small parks emerged in the villages, streets and public places.”
Nevertheless, the unfettered growth of the Panagbenga has also given rise to problems such as garbage of alarming proportions and other urban hassles that are, or should be, unworthy of the Philippines’ “summer capital.”
Longtime residents are reportedly unhappy at the wholesale intrusion. It’s said that the private and public sectors are often at loggerheads regarding the administration and management of the festival. Last year, festival chair Frederico Alquiros expressed grave concern about the size of the crowds, and said care should be taken to make sure that the tourist arrivals in the city would not exceed more than 400,000. “Baguio would explode from the overflow,” he warned. A visiting American expert suggested that tickets be sold to limit the crowds wanting to watch the famous flower float parade and the street dancing competition. A local conservationist pointed out that the crowds “compromised the safety and comfort” of everyone in Baguio for the festival.
Through Bangaoet’s initial idea, Baguio became a city in full bloom during the Panagbenga, enough reason for Tourism Secretary Ramon Jimenez to say in 2012 that the festival “is the symbol of the rise of Baguio.” But perhaps the best way to honor Bangaoet’s memory is to go back to the simple idea, and to keep his brainchild from straying too far from the “family-oriented” event that he had envisioned.
And there’s room—and time—to step back and make the necessary nips and tucks before Baguio again pulls out all the stops for next year’s festival. In that interview with Inquirer Northern Luzon last February, Bangaoet talked about his original vision of the Panagbenga: “Personally, I would rather have it shorter. When we started, it was only for nine days. But when the city got involved, officials wanted to make it a whole month. I think it is best to have it in two weeks because we have to consider the fatigue factor. Too much of a good thing sometimes can be tiring.”
In short, small is beautiful.