CROSS PURPOSES
The last thing I see before blood splatters my camera lens is Angelito Manansala falling to the ground. My instinct is to help him, but as I try I am ushered back by three or four men dressed in loin cloths, ropes tied to their wrists and ankles, their backs bleeding profusely. Angelito lies still, blood pouring from raw wounds, his face contorted with pain. 'God have mercy on me,' he whispers in Kapampangan, the local dialect.
This could be a war and Angelito a victim, his colleagues courageous brothers-in-arms. But it isn't and they're not. The injuries are self-inflicted and their agony is voluntary. This is Good Friday in the village of San Pedro Cutud, San Fernando, in the Pampanga region of the Philippines, about an-hour-and-a-half north of Manila by car, and we are witnessing a surreal demon-stration of Christian fundamentalism.
Angelito is a faith-healer from nearby Bulaon resettlement site, and he and his comrades are flagellants, a handful among the 150 or so Catholics here today who believe that by inflicting pain on themselves they can get closer to God by experiencing the agony of Jesus, even though the Vatican does not approve of their actions.
Angelito said he dreamed of the crucified Christ on the cross the night before, Maundy Thursday. 'It was a sign. God was encouraging me to follow the sacrifice,' he said.
And it can easily be the ultimate sacrifice. A local couple said they knew of at least two flagellants who had died, and although there are no official figures available, it is believed many more have perished from loss of blood or septicaemia at this and other ceremonies across the country. These are men of simple faith, villagers who are convinced that by suffering they can bring good fortune on themselves and their family by atoning for their sins or those of a loved one.
If it is difficult enough to watch the flagellants as they start their bloody Easter procession in blazing heat watched by villagers who clamber onto shanty corrugated roofs for a better view. But it is nothing compared to what comes next. The stars of this bizarre show are 17 believers who will be nailed to crosses at the town's 'Golgotha', a mound of earth two kilometres away.
Village officials estimate that about 20,000 people have gathered at the two-hectare site to watch as the kristos - believers emulating the agony of Jesus on the cross - have nails driven through their hands and feet, three at a time. Village leader Zoilo Castro said the 17 crucifixions was a record. 'The most we had until now was 15,' he said, adding that seven of the kristos were first-timers.