Filipino Christmas Still Comes Early in New Jersey, But With Less Holiday Cheer

By Christine Elaine Marquez

Sophia Dumasig propped open a cardboard cutout of Santa Claus on his sleigh while her sister held down Rudolph. The sisters had already ordered or cooked Filipino vegetable rice noodles named pancit bihon and egg rolls named lumpia. They were preparing lists of people to buy gifts for, and were about to start shopping.

It isn’t even December yet, but for the Dumasigs, it’s been Christmas for months.

The Dumasigs live in New Jersey, but they hail from the Philippines, a country whose population is 80 percent Catholic. Back in their homeland, they used to celebrating the “-ber months.” As soon as the calendar turns to September in Manila, Filipinos start playing holiday music at home and in the streets, especially Jose Mari Chan, the father of Filipino Christmas music. Christmas parades process through small towns, or barangays.

But the Garden State, though, there are no caroling kids, and no goodie bags to give out to them. It doesn’t feel or sound or smell anything like Manila.

“The way we celebrate it here is about the same, but it’s the feeling and craziness of preparing for those days that differs,” Sophia Dumasig said. “Back home, you can feel that everyone is excited, busy and happy. You can feel it in the air.”

Many Filipinos in New Jersey feel the same. According to the Census Bureau, the state’s largest Filipino populations, and indeed half the Filipinos residing in New Jersey, are in Bergen, Hudson, Middlesex and Passaic counties. Within Bergen, the highest concentrations of Filipinos are in Bergenfield, Paramus, Hackensack, New Milford, Dumont, Fair Lawn and Teaneck. Uprooted from their homelands, Filipinos in New Jersey are adjusting their old traditions.

In the Philippines, people start planning months ahead for a feast on Christmas Eve called “Noche Buena.” That’s when most of the gift-giving takes place.

Retired nurse Lydia Ignacio, 79, remembered living in Caloocan City in the Philippines 50 years ago. Her son used to craft Christmas lanterns named parol, symbolizing the victory of light over darkness as well as hope and goodwill. Each Filipino has their own version of parol, but it usually looks like an encircled star with paper mache hanging underneath.

But now Ignacio’s sons cannot find bamboo to make parols anymore.

Similarly, Lorna Torrente, 54, of Hackensack, said she now delays her Christmas decorating under after Thanksgiving, or as late as Dec. 1.

Dumasig said she thought some Filipinos turn away from the traditions in the Philippines to avoid homesickness. “Sometimes that’s our coping mechanism,” she said, “so we don’t feel homesick or missing out with our old lives in the Philippines.”