A "BAILE."
Not long after the arrival of our party at Bacalod we received an
invitation to a "baile" given in our honor by the inhabitants of
Silay, a town some ten or twelve miles up the northern coast and one
noted for its social life. The invitation was accepted with pleasure,
and about the middle of the afternoon on the day appointed we were
clad in the immaculate white of the tropics and steaming away up the
coast on board a launch sent for our conveyance. Twilight was still
lingering on the path of day when we anchored just off shore at the
town. A row-boat containing the officials of the city came out to meet
us and, in due season, we were ushered into a spacious drawing-room
filled almost to overflowing with the élite of the town. The élite of
towns in the Philippines speak Spanish, and, as only one or two of our
party could at that time boast of more than a formal acquaintance with
the Castilian tongue, the exchange of ideas that evening between us
and the Filipinos was of necessity not very rapid.
The necessity of easy communication between us was rendered somewhat
less indispensable by the announcement of supper as soon as we were
rested from our trip. When we had taken our places at the table a
young Filipino about twenty-five years of age arose and gave a lengthy
toast to the recent union of the Philippines with the United States.
But as we Americans were unable to scale the dizzy heights of his
climaxes or sink to the depths of his pathos, we forewent the
pleasures of his oratory and turned our attention to the savory odor
of lamb, chicken, and roast pig that came slyly stealing up our
nostrils to send us nerve dispatches about the gastronomic delights of
our not far distant future.
At last the toast was ended and the world-wide soup ushered in a long
train of things good to eat, served in a style better fitted to the
delights of the appetite than to the formalities of dinners, for, as
soon as the pleasant task of one dish was completed by any one, the
next was served him at once regardless of the progress made by the
others at the table.
The last course was _dulce_. The new-comers to the Philippines will
not be long in making the acquaintance of this dish, and at all
meetings, both public and private, where eatables are served, it
performs an important part. It is anything sweet, and it may vary all
the way from an india-rubber-like black mixture of cocoanut milk and
dirty sugar to a really toothsome and respectable confection. No
matter of what materials a dish is composed, just so long as it is
sweet, it is _dulce_.
After paying our respects to this last course, we arose from the table
and entered a great rectangular room from the center of whose ceiling
hung a large glass chandelier, a mass of shimmering crystals. In the
chairs around the room were the wealth, the youth, and the beauty of
the town.
The first and also the last number of every Filipino dance of any
formality is the "_rigodon_." The dancers are arranged in a square, or
quadrangle according to the number participating, and are then led
through a tangled maze of figures that so utterly bewilders the novice
that he sinks into his chair at the end of the dance wondering how it
all came to pass.
We Americans breathed a sigh of relief when the "rigodon" ended, and
mustered fresh courage for social conquests in the waltz that was now
breathing forth from the trembling strings. My companion in the first
dance had been the young lady by whose side I had sat at dinner. But
it now became necessary to search for another, so I prudently waited
to see how partners were chosen, and made no mistake when a few
moments later I faced one of the most luscious looking señoritas on
the opposite side of the room and offered her my arm. My eyes must
have told the story that my lips could not utter in Spanish, for she
smiled upon me sweetly, arose, and put her hand upon my shoulder. My
arm encircled her waist and I began to waltz. Unfortunately my
companion did not follow, but began to hop up and down in a manner
most distressing. Supposing the attack to be only temporary, I paused
and, much to my relief, she soon showed signs of recovery; and in the
course of time she came to a standstill looking up into my face in an
inquiring sort of way, apparently wondering why St. Vitus had not paid
his respects to me also. A second attempt to follow the music met with
results similar to the first, and during the third attempt, which
seemed to be trembling on the verge of a failure, St. Vitus let go my
companion and seized me with such vigor that she, who was small even
for a Filipino, was gathered up bodily and taken around the room at
such a pace that her toes touched the floor only at far distant
intervals.
At this point my devotion to the shrine of Terpsichore ceased from
force of circumstances and I seated myself in one of the most
comfortable chairs in sight that I might carry out a previously formed
plan to study the Filipino somewhat critically as he appears in
society.
The first thing that impressed me as the dancers passed up and down
the room was the flash of diamonds. Nearly every woman in the room had
on a brooch that flashed the colors of the rainbow at every turn.
Almost all of them wore one or more rings that showed up brilliantly
under the chandelier. Many of the men too, especially the young men,
wore gems that appeared to be exquisite. A closer inspection showed
that some of the gems had flaws and others were of a poor color, but
no one would have denied that, taken as a whole, it was a really
beautiful display.
The dress of the ladies was richly colored. Many of their skirts were
of silk covered with hand embroidered flowers, and their filmy pina
waists and broad collar pieces were rich with needle-work. They all
wore a kind of heelless velvet slipper, very common as a dress shoe in
the Philippines, or high-heeled patent leather shoes with neatly
fitting black stockings.
The men were dressed in white coats and white pantaloons or black
coats and white pantaloons. White shirts and collars, together with
all sorts and styles of cravats and low-cut patent leather shoes with
highly colored socks completed their dress.
It was easy to see that the Filipinos really had a good deal of money;
that they liked to dress was apparent; and that they believed in a
table loaded with good things was a fact to which all of us were
enthusiastic witnesses.