12/09/2025
๐บ๐ท๐ฌ๐ช๐ฐ๐จ๐ณ ๐ญ๐ฌ๐จ๐ป๐ผ๐น๐ฌ | ๐๐จ๐ซ๐จ๐ง๐ ๐๐ง ๐๐ข๐ญ๐ฒ ๐
๐ข๐๐ฌ๐ญ๐ ๐๐๐๐
๐๐ก๐ ๐๐ซ๐ญ ๐จ๐ ๐๐ง๐ ๐๐ง๐ฎ๐ข๐ญ๐ฒ
What stirs the crowd more: the music, or the murmurs it leaves behind?
Now that the voices have faded, the lyres have fallen silent, and even the air has grown still, attention shifts once more to the performance of the ESNCHS Marching Band, an act that sparked a chorus of opinions. Not quite the performance the crowd was accustomed to, in the air was something differentโsomething that demanded recognition.
For years, the marching band had carried the same familiar sound. Its routines became tradition, replayed every fiesta until they blurred into memory, comforting, safe, predictable. But this year, the rhythm changed. What the audience heard and saw was a new kind of spectacle, it was smoother, bolder, louder, and unapologetically different. The shift unsettled some. Whispers rippled through the crowd, claiming it strayed too far from the old and what most claimed to be โours.โ Yet beneath those murmurs was a truth harder to swallow, and sometimes, what feels wrong is simply what feels new.
At the heart of this change were Jon and Carisha Peรฑaflorida. Both in their late twenties, both former band members, and both volunteers who receive nothing for their efforts except the sight of the band thriving. โOur role is only as directorsโthe credit should go to the kids,โ Carisha explained. โEvery performance is the result of their hard work.โ Their vision was not to erase tradition, but to expand it, drawing from the show band style rooted in Americaโs Historial Black Colleges and Universities (HBCU) marching bands. It was a choice not of rebellion but of reinvention, meant to bring back the excitement of asking: what will Compre do this year?
The transition was not without struggle. Imagine nearly a hundred young performers unlearning what they knew and stepping into something that felt foreign even to the most seasoned among them. At first, mistakes filled the rehearsals, newbies stumbled, and even the bandโs mavens struggled to adjust. โManaging almost a hundred kids isnโt easy,โ Jon admitted, โbut the challenge has always been worth it. The kids performed beyond our expectations. Weโre proud of them.โ And truly, it was all that mattered.
What stood out most was not only the performance itself, but the way it was built. No punishments. No fear. Just communication, trust, and respect. In a country with a sorry culture where discipline is often confused with punishment, the ESNCHS Marching Band proved that respect given is respect returned. This, in turn, resulted in the members never fearing failure, second chances, and ultimately, growth.
And so, when the day came and the drums thundered across the plaza, the band took the stage carrying not just instruments, hard work and genuine belief in themselves, straight from the heat of the noon practices and the drowsiness of the dawn rehearsals. Some clapped, some shook their heads, but all watched. For no matter how divided the opinions, no one could ignore the fact that something different was unfolding before their very eyes.
Perhaps it wasnโt the performance Borongan City was used to. Perhaps they longed the constant thump of the tambourines to the hips. Perhaps it wasnโt the sound of nostalgia the crowd expected. But maybe it wasnโt meant to be. Because long after the fiesta lights dim and the voices die down, what remains is a memory of a band that dared to change, to grow, to be bold in the face of doubt. The ESNCHS Marching Bandโs performance split the crowdโhalf in admiration, half in oppositionโyet in every heart, it left an echoing beat. And in the end, isnโt that what art is supposed to do?
Feature by Keira Adamas
Layout by Ella Turla and Keira Adamas
