Thirteen years ago, I traveled to the Philippines for the first time. I was immediately struck by the country’s breathtaking beauty, but what left the deepest impression on me was the warmth and kindness of its people. In Manila, I visited families living in incredibly challenging conditions, yet despite their hardships, I was always welcomed with a smile. Their resilience and generosity deeply moved me.

Just three weeks after returning home, I learned that Manila had been hit by severe flooding. My thoughts immediately went to the families I had met—people who already faced so many difficulties, now enduring an even greater struggle. I felt compelled to do something. I decided to write about their stories, share my images, and give others the opportunity to help (Welcome, Bienvenue, Mabuhay). I didn’t realize then that this would be the start of an activity that would become an important part of my life.

That first story, prompted by a natural disaster I had not witnessed, led to many more. Over the years, I have shared 110 stories with images capturing the lives and experiences of people in 35 different countries.  Among them, six stories came from the Philippines—a place that has remained close to my heart.

This past January, I once again returned. I was especially excited to be there during Sinulog, the Philippines’ largest festival, held in Cebu, the country’s second-largest city. The energy, the colors, the devotion—it was a celebration unlike any other.

The Sinulog Festival is one of the Philippines’ most vibrant and significant cultural and religious celebrations. Held annually in Cebu, it honors one of the country’s most cherished religious relics—the Santo Niño de Cebu. This sacred statue of the Christ Child was gifted to Rajah Humabon, the ruler of Cebu, by explorer Ferdinand Magellan in 1521 during a Spanish expedition. This moment marked a pivotal turning point in Philippine history as it introduced Christianity to the islands, shaping the country’s religious and cultural landscape. Today, the Santo Niño remains a powerful symbol of faith and devotion, enshrined at the Basilica Minore del Santo Niño in downtown Cebu City.

“Sinulog” comes from the Cebuano adverb sulog, which means “like the movement of water currents.” This term perfectly describes the graceful, rhythmic dance central to the festival. According to tradition, upon receiving the Santo Niño, Queen Juana, Rajah Humabon’s wife, was so overjoyed that she danced while holding the statue. Inspired by her devotion, the other natives joined in, creating a moment that is said to have inspired the dance still performed during the festival today. The steps consist of two forward movements and one step back, symbolizing a river’s gentle, flowing movement—an elegant representation of faith and perseverance.

While the Sinulog Festival begins in early January, its main events unfold in the third week of the month, leading to the Grand Parade on the third Sunday. The city of Cebu becomes a lively and colorful spectacle, filled with music, dance, and an outpouring of devotion. Everyone seems to carry a replica of the Santo Niño, eager to have it blessed. For those who don’t own one, vendors line the streets around the Basilica, selling Santo Niño statues in various sizes. If you already have one but it is damaged or in need of a new outfit, these vendors are more than happy to restore or dress it for you. Some families take it a step further, dressing their children as “living” Santo Niños, a charming sight reflecting Filipinos’ deep personal connection with the revered figure.

During the festival, I immersed myself in three major processions over two days. The first, Walk with Mary, began at 3:00 AM—an hour that my body thinks is either too early or too late to be anywhere but in my bed! Thousands of devotees walked through the streets of Cebu, praying as they carried their Santo Niño statues, images of the Virgin Mary, or both. The flickering glow of candles illuminated the dark morning, creating a solemn yet deeply moving atmosphere.

The second was the fluvial procession, a reenactment of Santo Niño’s historic arrival by sea. Hundreds of boats joined the procession, while thousands of devotees gathered at the pier to welcome the sacred image. It was a sight to behold—a sea of faith, both literally and figuratively.

The third and final major event was the solemn foot procession. This time, in addition to the usual crowds of devotees, organized groups walked in unison, accompanying the cherished statue through the streets of Cebu. Among them, I noticed many groups of nurses representing various healthcare organizations—a reminder of how deeply the profession is ingrained in Filipino society.

Throughout these days, Masses at the Basilica were held nonstop, with enormous crowds in attendance. For those who couldn’t fit inside, large screens outside projected the ceremonies, ensuring that no one was left out of the sacred experience.

Then came the festival’s grand finale—the Grand Street Parade on Sunday, the highlight of Sinulog. The parade featured dazzling contingents—dance groups representing different cities, towns, and provinces from across the Philippines. Each contingent was led by a “Queen,” symbolizing Queen Juana, the first Christian queen of Cebu. Dressed in magnificent costumes, these young performers moved gracefully through the streets, their intricate dances set to the rhythmic beat of drums and chants. It was breathtaking to witness, but I couldn’t help but feel for the dancers performing for hours under the relentless midday heat of the Philippines.

Alongside the dancers were grand floats, towering puppeteers, and even celebrities, who sent the massive crowds into a frenzy. Though the Grande Parade is dedicated to the Santo Niño, I couldn’t help but notice how its cultural elements have taken on a life of their own. Not that I’m complaining—it was an absolute spectacle to behold!

Revisiting the Philippines after so many years reminded me why I fell in love with it in the first place. It is the spirit of the people that truly makes this country extraordinary. Now that I’ve come full circle, I find myself wondering if perhaps it’s time to step away from the blog.

In the meantime, as I heard a million times throughout the festival,

Viva Pit Señor!

France