The Wisdom of April’s Fools

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April arrives in the Philippines with all the subtlety of a summer sunburn —relentless, blinding, and impossible to ignore. It is a month of extremes, where we pivot from blistering heat to surprise downpours, from carefree beach trips to quiet dread over the approaching rainy season, from penitence to pranks. It opens, fittingly, with April Fools’ Day, this year landing squarely right before Maundy Thursday.

Semana Santa is supposed to be a week of reflection — solemn and spiritual — yet somehow it is not spared from sham announcements, recycled memes, and “breaking news” that collapses under the slightest scrutiny.

The origins of April Fools’ Day remain murky. There are many theories about when or why it started, but it has evolved into a global excuse for harmless mischief, corporate marketing stunts, and, in the case of social media, an all-day festival of fake news.

April is no joke when it comes to heat. This is the time of year when the sun feels personal, as if it has singled you out for punishment. Pavement temperatures trend on social media, where cookies are allegedly baked in cars (which my daughter has tried and verified as plausible) and eggs fried on the road. Stepping outside at noon feels like an instant heatwave, with sunscreen seeming more like cooking lard than skin protection. I’ve heard foreigners use the expression “smells like the sun” in the same positive way they say “smells like rain” when describing petrichor (alimuong). What we Pinoys know is that there’s nothing fragrant about amoy-araw — just ask anyone raising an active child.

And because of the heat, it’s also the season for creative coping strategies. You see them every day: an army of workers holding rechargeable fans to their faces as if they were in a shampoo commercial.

Some bring along expensive insulated tumblers filled with aggressively iced water, like gym rats in office attire. Others drape “Good Morning” towels around their necks, similar to how tennis players use towels during matches.

Air conditioners are in full use at this time — whether at home, at work, in shopping malls, or during the daily commute. The worst thing that could happen is a power outage in the middle of the day. Wait — having your water cut off is even worse, and it happens a lot during this fiery season. It’s not exactly the Year of the Fire Horse we’re hoping for.

For those who can, salvation comes in the form of running to one of the country’s many shorelines. Meccas like Boracay, Palawan, Siargao, Siquijor, Baler, and Puerto Galera overflow with sunburned pilgrims of all colors searching for that picture-perfect sunset, that Instagrammable fairytale walk, or that perfect wave. Even those who can’t go far can always improvise with quick drives to Batangas or Zambales, or a stroll along Dolomite Beach beside the US Embassy (believe it or not, there was a time when Manila Bay was clean enough to swim in).

But for those who prefer mountains over beaches, there are the summer capitals — of traffic. During long weekends and Holy Week, road warriors turn the scenic roads to Baguio and Tagaytay into virtual parking lots, hoping for fresher air and cooler temperatures with the naïve optimism of toddlers.

Those left behind survive on shade and sugar as they enter eternal debates: soda or coconut water? Ice candy or scrambol? Halo-halo or ice cream? Halo-halo loyalists argue that its glorious chaos of shaved ice, beans, leche flan, sago, macapuno, gulaman, ube, and pinipig is unmatched, while purists defend the elegance of dirty ice cream — on a cone, in a cup, or daringly sandwiched in bread. It’s another busy season for Bebang, Chowking, Mang Inasal, Razon’s, and the rest of the ice-shaving crowd, including all the bingsu joints.

And during Holy Week itself, the country collectively slows down — at least in theory. In the dark ages before cable TV and the internet, neighborhoods stood in silent reverence, the only sound usually emanating from the pabasa of devoted pasyonistas. Kids weren’t allowed to engage in horseplay, with elders reminding them that if they got wounded on Good Friday or Black Saturday, it wouldn’t heal easily because “God is dead” for the time being. Our elders also proscribed —without any plausible explanation — bathing or showering after 3:00 PM.

However, even back then, families simply treated this weeklong holiday as an opportunity for some quality R&R. Nowadays, there are more options, more places to visit, and more things to do besides visiting churches and contemplating one’s place in the cosmos. This contrast between penitence and paradise is stark, yet deeply Filipino. Apparently, reflection can happen anywhere —even under a beach umbrella or a talisay (tropical almond) tree.

This is also a big month for music lovers — or every millennial’s budgeting nightmare, depending on how you look at it. BTS finally returns, launching a massive comeback tour from Goyang to Tokyo and beyond. My Chemical Romance marches on with The Black Parade, while The Weeknd keeps the lights (and pyrotechnics) on across the Americas. April, it turns out, is the season when millennials and Gen Z perfect the art of convincing their financially stable but travel-averse parents that this concert is “once in a lifetime.”

As May approaches, the weather should start to shift. A sudden downpour might cool the air just enough to remind us that nothing lasts— not even suffering. Sporadic rains will be most welcome — a respite from the summer heat — even as we know that storms and floods are just around the corner.

Filipinos are all too familiar with this cycle. And yet, faith teaches us that not every outcome needs to be predicted or controlled; some things are meant to be left to God’s infinite wisdom, as Noah did when he built his ark for the Great Flood.