The Sound Hits You First
It’s not the colors — though they’ll get to you eventually. It’s the noise. Somewhere around 6 AM on May 15th, Lucban wakes up to the sound of hammering, laughter, and a radio playing something tinny from a second-floor window. By the time you stumble out of whatever transport brought you here from Lucena, the whole town smells like fresh rice paste and frying longganisa.
The Pahiyas Festival is a harvest thanksgiving for San Isidro Labrador, patron saint of farmers. That’s the official line. In practice, it’s a competition to see who can turn their house into the most ridiculous, beautiful, edible work of art in the Philippines. And the medium of choice is kiping — translucent rice wafers shaped like leaves, dyed in colors that shouldn’t exist in nature but somehow do.
What Kiping Actually Is
I’d read about kiping before going but didn’t really understand it until I watched someone make them. You take glutinous rice dough, press it paper-thin onto a leaf mold, then dip it in food coloring. The finished product looks like stained glass — wafer-thin, translucent, weirdly beautiful for something made from rice flour.
The impressive part isn’t any individual wafer. It’s what people do with thousands of them. Entire house facades get covered in kiping chandeliers, kiping curtains, kiping flowers arranged into patterns that must have taken days to plan. Some houses go for geometric precision; others just pile on as much color as physically possible. The judging happens in the afternoon, and from what I could tell, the criteria lean toward creativity over neatness — which explains the wild variety.
Here’s the part that gets people: all of it is edible. The kiping, the fruits, the vegetables, the longganisa sausages hanging from the eaves. After the judging, the homeowners start pulling decorations down and handing them to whoever’s standing there. It’s not a symbolic gesture. They genuinely want you to take it.
The Procession and Everything Around It
The religious procession carrying San Isidro’s image through the streets is the official center of the festival. It winds through Lucban’s narrow roads, flanked by floats and followed by dancers in costumes that range from traditional to creative interpretations of “traditional.”
But honestly, the procession is one part of a much bigger scene. The streets fill with food stalls, music stages, and kiping-making demonstrations where you can watch artisans work. There’s usually a queue for pancit habhab — noodles served on a banana leaf that you eat by lifting the leaf to your face. No utensils. It sounds awkward and it is, slightly, but that’s the fun of it.
Key things happening throughout the day:
- House decoration judging — afternoon, usually between 2-4 PM, but timing can shift
- Street procession — morning through midday, with the main image carried through town
- Kiping demonstrations — artisans showing the leaf-pressing technique, often near the main route
- Longganisa and pancit habhab stalls — Lucban’s longganisa is garlicky and a bit tangy, not like the sweet Manila versions
- Live music and dancing — stages set up along the route, volume levels that could qualify as structural damage
Getting There Without Losing Your Mind
Lucban is about 130 kilometers southeast of Manila, which translates to roughly 3-4 hours by bus on a normal day. On Pahiyas day, add uncertainty. Buses leave from Cubao and Buendia terminals headed for Lucena City, and from there you transfer to a jeepney for the final stretch to Lucban.
The jeepney leg is where things get interesting. On festival day, traffic into Lucban backs up considerably. I’ve heard of people walking the last kilometer because it was faster than sitting in the jeepney. If that sounds like more adventure than you want, KLOOK and KKday both offer round-trip packages from Manila that handle the logistics. Not the cheapest option, but you avoid the transfer puzzle.
The non-negotiable advice: arrive early. By 7 AM early. The streets aren’t just crowded by mid-morning — they’re impassable in spots. And the morning light does something extraordinary to kiping. The wafers are translucent, so when the sun hits them at a low angle, they glow. By noon, you’re just looking at colored rice wafers. At 7 AM, you’re looking at stained glass.
The Uncomfortable Parts
May in Quezon Province is hot. Not pleasantly warm — genuinely, oppressively hot, with humidity that makes your camera lens fog up every time you step out of shade. Bring water, sunscreen, a hat, and ideally one of those portable handheld fans that seemed ridiculous until you’re standing in a crowd at 11 AM.
Cash is essential. There are ATMs in Lucban, but they’re few and they run out. I’d say bring more than you think you’ll need.
Accommodation in Lucban itself is almost nonexistent for visitors. The practical options are staying in Lucena City (closer, more budget-friendly) or Manila (familiar, but means an early departure). Check Agoda for hotels in Quezon Province — look for free cancellation because plans around Philippine festivals have a way of shifting.
Phone signal gets unreliable when the crowd density peaks. If you’re trying to coordinate with someone, agree on a meeting point beforehand rather than counting on messaging.
After the Judging
This is the part most write-ups skip, and it might be the best part. Once the judging wraps up in the late afternoon, the mood shifts. The competition is over, and now the homeowners start dismantling their creations. But “dismantling” really means “giving it away.”
People walk up to decorated houses and the owners hand them kiping, fruits, whatever’s hanging there. It’s casual — there’s no ceremony about it. You just take what’s offered, say thank you, and maybe end up carrying a translucent pink rice wafer chandelier through the streets like it’s completely normal.
The kiping actually tastes decent fried. Crispy, mildly sweet, a bit like a rice cracker. Not life-changing as a snack, but as a souvenir you can eat on the bus ride back, it beats a refrigerator magnet.
The Bus Ride Back
The return trip is always longer than the arrival. Everyone’s leaving at once, the jeepneys are packed, and you’re probably sunburned and carrying food you didn’t plan on acquiring. The bus back to Manila smells like a combination of longganisa, sweat, and the faint sweetness of kiping dye.
Somewhere around Tayabas, the kid in the seat next to me held up a kiping wafer to the bus window. It caught the late afternoon light and for a second, the whole thing glowed orange. He didn’t seem impressed. I think he was just bored. But it was a good moment anyway.
