Señor Nazareno, also known as the Black Nazarene, is venerated by Manila's "masa" in the congested district of Quiapo every ninth of January. To participate in this religious ritual among Manila's tumultuous proletariat is akin to braving the rampaging bulls of Pamplona, Spain. So with some repidation, I joined photographer friend Ben Razon, an avid follower of this fiesta, last January. A veteran of this Quiapo festival, Ben positioned us safely away from the no holds barred, body-contact match in which a turbulent sea of humanity violently push, shove, and struggle mightily for the chance to grasp a few inches of one of four hemp ropes (a symbol of carrying the weight of the cross of the Nazarene) attached to the carriage that carries the statue of the Black Nazarene around the plaza. The tougher, more aggressive, more blessed ones gain the honor of putting shoulder to Señor Nazareno's carroza.

It has to do with the healing powers of the Black Nazarene. To touch his image, or have one's hand towel brush the all-healing Señor Nazareno, is the main point of the suffocatingly physical exercise. The tempestuous throngs are there to fullfill their vow (panata) to escort El Senõr on this special day of His fiesta, in return for favors desired or graces received: a sick child healed, a loved one's wayward ways mended, a school exam hurdled, a job obtained. No less than the nation's Vice President Noli de Castro, a devotee for the past 20 years, was there in the flesh to walk on his knees inside the church and to help pull the ropes of the carroza albeit graciously protected by other devotees against the likely prospect of becoming pressed flesh in the frenzied all male rope-ritual outside.

The wooden statue of the Nazareno allegedly arrived via a Spanish Galleon from Mexico in the 17th century. His black complexion is explained away by a fire in that ship. The Nazarene is depicted carrying his cross in a kneeling position. His maroon velvet robes. embroidered with gold, signal the colors that El Señor's devotees sport, ––maroon and yellow T-shirts, along with white small towels wrapped on their heads.

Because Ben and I stood swallowed within the calmer, outer circle of the raging human sea, El Señor was never within camera range. But His clones were everywhere: on neighborhood carrozas, atop a jeepney hood, on tricycles, perched on a man's head, —- mystical replicas, from life-sized to doll-sized, all paraded within healing touch of the crowd estimated by news reports the following day to be 600,000. Thank El Señor we were away from the real action, because during the Black Nazarene's exodus from the church a wooden manhole cover in the street caved in and one fallen man was trampled to death and dozens injured in the ensuing stampede of feet compulsively drawn to fill a void.

Herewith are images, not of the main event, but of the people and atmosphere of the event, which hopefully captures the excitement and the experience of this traditional Quiapo ritual. Describing the feast of the Black Nazarene of Quiapo, Nick Joaquin wrote back in 1979:

"To Quiapo's fiesta procession speed wave on wave and horde upon horde of all Manila's male-dom: kanto boy and matón, jeep driver and stevedore, the siga and the sikat ––all in classic get-up of the Quiapo panata: towel round the neck, rolled-up trousers, bare feet, and white T-shirt printed with the face of Christ and the text Hijos del Nazareno. And all, from 13 years and up, have come to prove themselves macho in the roughest, rowdiest, ruggedest procession in the city's year. And what a spectacle it is: that rumbling sea of heads in the midst of which, now sinking and now rising, now tottering and now falling, now rushing and now lagging, suddenly appears uplifted over the tumult, dark and dazzling, terrible and triumphant: the Lord of Downtown."(Nick Joaquin. Almanac For Manileños. Mr. & Ms. Publications.1979)

Some notes on the photos:
1. Hand towels are thrown to be caught and given a wipe across a portion of the image and then tossed back indiscriminately to the crowd. There is never a quarrel over ownership of these flying towels.

2. In the photo of the jeepney, I deliberately blurred the crowded background via photoshop. Purists in the photojournalist profession will recoil in horror, but I am comfortable with it, because far from tampering with "reality" the experience of the jeepney Nazareno is placed in perspective. Besides, all photographers create this same effect with their cameras through the simple technique of shooting with wide open lenses resulting in a shallow depth of field.

3. The photo of the casualty carried off in a stretcher by paramedics to be deposited in the safety of Quezon Boulevard was by chance. A paramedic glanced at me taking the photo and said "Plenty more inside!".

4. The devotees of El Señor Nazareno gather in pockets in the side streets of the Quiapo church in preparation for joining the long procession. The event is projected on a large screen from a building in Quiapo's famous Plaza Miranda. Rubbing elbows with legendary aggressive macho men close up, I found them all friendly and considerate. My camera was my passport to happy smiles; "Hey Joe! One shot!"