Filipinos, despite being dubbed as mere \"pancit eaters,\" are fond of lavish celebrations. This fondness has turned to a \"festival phenomenon\" with almost every city and town in the country having its own festival. Batac is no exemption with its Empanada Festival, staged for the first time last year in celebration of its first cityhood anniversary. At that time, Batac was exultant at its transformed status, posed towards the promise of progress.

Like other festivals, it featured a dance parade, culminating with dance presentations featuring the ingredients and processes in the making of empanada. The presentations were \"folk,\" incorporating the formal elements of Philippine folk dance from movements to costumes.

This year, Batac staged a \"transformed\" Empanada Festival. The National Commission for Culture and the Arts (NCCA) was invited to oversee the festival. In May, a training of choreographers was conducted by the acclaimed Halili-Cruz School of Ballet. I have learned that in the training, NCCA suggested that innovations should be made: first, by contemporizing the folksy empanada dances, and second, by crafting the \"empanada story\" with emphasis on a conflict, an essential in any narrative. To bring out the best among the participants, the organizers announced that this year would be a competition with large amounts of prizes for winners, and indeed, the desire to win triggered creative outflow.

Curious about the outcome of the month-long preparations, I braved the crowded streets of centro to find the best spot to see the first part of the festivities, the dance parade.

What I witnessed made me forget that Batac’s cityhood is being challenged by the Supreme Court. I was able to feel the binding spirit of dance being a societal art form. It was not entirely a parade of trained dancers that we often see in similar events but of a community-school children, baranggay officials, men and women of all ages, school teachers, and of course the city officials. I must say that this was the first time I saw a dance parade with such range of involvement. It was awe-inspiring. The long lines of dancers clearly painted a strong picture of Batac as a community.

Of course, fiestas are political events. And fiestas, being the best among the limited avenues for artistic expression in the provinces, subject \"art\" to the machinations of politics.

Before every performance, a storyline was read. According to the first group, the empanada was made popular by a beggar who asked for alms from Bataquenos attending mass. But instead of giving him alms, the church goers taught the beggar how to make empanada and eventually, the beggar became self-sustaining by venturing into the empanada business.

I found the first story plausible for it suggests the entrepreneurial spirit obviously present along the Riverside where empanada, miki,and other delicacies are sold today. It also suggests an answer to the question on the origin of the empanada—that Bataqueños did not invent the empanada but making it has been previously known, perhaps adapted from other cultures (empanada is of Spanish origin).

The first group, with their clean and graceful movements, set a high benchmark of what to expect next.

The most dominant theme was scarcity of resources, particularly food, caused by either World War II or by natural calamities. This external conflict, at least according to some of the presentations, led to the invention of the empanada.

And then came a more peculiar story about a commercial conflict between a man who was a successful balut vendor and a woman who sold empanada. The woman outshined the balot vendor, who, with the intent of revenge, accused the empanada vendor of poisoning him. The balut vendor eventually admitted that the accusation was a lie, and like a Pinoy melodrama, the two characters ended up marrying each other. And they lived happily ever after.

In yet another group, the creation of the Empanada was portrayed as a solution to food scarcity after the war. But weren’t dinengdeng and lugaw cheaper and easier to prepare?

The balut/empanada story won the competition. Their routine was well executed. With its excellent choreography, it had the elements of conflict, humor, and romance—a formula for mass entertainment. And, as fiestas go, the Emapanada Festival was one big, lavish form of mass entertainment—live and performed right under our noses.

It was difficult to battle with the visual spectacle because, oftentimes, what we visually perceive cloud critical perception. Yet, in the midst of awe with the spectacles unfolding one after another, I began to ask: Where did these stories come from? Am I watching stories by and of the people of Batac? Is this Ilocano culture, history, tradition? Or, am I watching loose, misguided offshoots of the \"creative\" mind?

What is the empanada story? Who invented it?

Innovation is not at all wrong. But training artists to be sensitive, respectful, and knowledgeable about the dance forms, and the stories they stage, will significantly contribute to the celebrations of fiestas, making the audience appreciate culture and history in their rightful contexts.

This stage in Batac’s history will surely have a deep impression on the future. The NCCA and the government of Batac should safeguard cultural integrity in the representation of Ilocano culture and history.

More than the quest for cityhood, the search for identity, a place in the cultural diaspora, is of greater necessity. We should struggle to represent ourselves in ways fair and loyal to our own truths.