‘Pailaw, paputok, Goodbye Bading’

Was it the rain that dampened the New Year’s Eve revelry, or the barrage of reminders on the dangers of firecrackers that resulted in the dip in injuries reported by hospital emergency rooms this year?

Firecrackers have been with us longer than we can remember. There are references to them in 18th-century Spanish documents on Intramuros, even in the opening of Chapter 40 of “Noli Me Tangere” where Rizal describes the evening sky lit up by rockets and balloons, with men ready for mishaps with pails of water on the roofs of thatched houses. Rizal also described:

“Many pieces of fireworks of fantastic shapes—wheels, castles, bulls, carabaos— had been set off, surpassing in beauty and grandeur anything ever before seen by the inhabitants of San Diego… Here and there might be seen Bengal lights fantastically illuminating the merry groups while the boys were availing themselves of torches to hunt in the grass for unexploded bombs and other remnants that could still be used.”

Emilio Aguinaldo relates in his memoirs that he came into the world (150 years ago this year) after his father lit a loud firecracker under his mother’s bed to hasten delivery. As an omen of his military future, his first breath of air was accented by the smell of gunpowder.

Ferdinand Marcos, on the other hand, began his second term by bidding goodbye to 1969 and welcoming 1970 by the Malacañang fountain, with his children lighting Bocaue sparklers, joined by US Vice President and Mrs. Agnew who were houseguests for the Marcos inaugural.

We all have fond memories of firecrackers. I remember the various childhood noisemakers, from simple cardboard horns with the onomatopoeic name “torotot” and the “matraca,” a wood clapper, a cultural import from Latin America, to the homemade bamboo cannons or “lantaka” fueled by either kerosene (“gaas”) or the safer hot water and calcium carbide (“kalburo”).

We sourced the following from neighborhood “sari-sari” stores: “watusi,” which came wrapped in red polka-dot foil; rockets known as “kwitis,” the “Mother Rocket” different from the smaller “Baby Rocket”; brown paper firecrackers known by their shape as “trianggulo,” or their exploding sound, “reventador,” mangled in usage as “laventador.” There were small bombs known as “bawang” from their shape, upsized to “Large Bawang,” and the Chinese serpent firecracker that made the loudest racket, known as “Sinturon ni Hudas,” after the traitorous 13th disciple of Jesus.

I recall the “whistlebomb” that made a shrill whistling sound before exploding. Those who wanted to play safe used “luces,” “pailaw,” or lights in the form of handheld sparklers on a wire or torch lighters wrapped in paper. If you preferred to watch from a distance, there were the “Fountain,” “Roman Candle” and “Mabuhay,” which is a bunch of a dozen sparklers. Last but not least were the assorted pinwheels and other shapes known as “trompillo” that gave light, movement and noise.

Republic Act No. 7183, an Act regulating the sale, manufacture, distribution and use of firecrackers and pyrotechnics, categorized everything known in 1992 into nine types of firecrackers: “Baby Rocket,” “Small Trianggulo,” “Pulling of Strings,” “Paper Caps,” “El Diablo,” “Judah’s Belt,” “Skyrocket” (“kwitis”), “bawang,” “watusi”; and 10 pyrotechnics: “Sparklers,” “luces,” “Fountain,” “Jumbo regular and special,” “Mabuhay,” “Roman Candle,” “trompillo,” “Air Wolf,” “Whistle Device” and “Butterfly.” Each is described in detail for the Philippine National Police to recognize, regulate or confiscate.

Passed in 1992, the law has to be updated with new types and names. “El Diablo” (The Devil) is self-explanatory. “Super Lolo” or “Lolo Thunder” makes me wonder if there is a smaller ordinary “Lolo” or “Lola.” “Pillbox” is a name I recall from the student demonstrations of the late 1960s when these were thrown at police together with “Molotov cocktails.” Is “Pla-Pla” named after its wide type, or is it shaped like a broiled tilapia? “Kabasi” is both a firecracker and a fish. “Boga” is an improvised cannon, not from bamboo but from PVC pipe. What is “Coke-in-Can”? “Parachute”? “Bin Laden”? Who cooked up  names such as “Hello Columbia,” “Goodbye World,” “Goodbye Philippines” and “Goodbye Bading”?

It is with wit that the Filipino excels, and with humor that he copes with the promise and dread of 2019.

Comments are welcome at aocampo@ateneo.edu