I remember the sheen of the rising sun lighting up an ember at the edge of the hills of sand dunes. It is the first thing I saw from where I laid out on a mattress in the open desert. A few feet away from me, I noticed a black scorpion struggling to crawl away. I look up at our guide with a smile on his face. “Close call” he tells me before breaking into a grin. “They are poisonous but they don’t kill people” he adds. That prevented me from thinking the night we spent at the desert of Jaisalmer was a life-threatening one.

One by one; myself, Aileen and the five other Indian travelers we befriended rose up and marveled at the spectacular sunrise. As what we have witnessed the previous sunset, the rising sun over the desert of Jaisalmer is a picture to behold. It was a rarity finding myself unable to even capture it with my camera. I gazed at it like a lovelorn soul looking at a goddess.

The youngest of our guide–already an expert camel herder–kick started the Holi celebration by yelling Holee Mubaarak (Hindi for Happy Holi) before our other two guides started tossing colored powders on us. Before we knew it, we were smudged with pink, yellow, violet, red and blue colors on our faces.

The Holi Festival is an ancient Hindu Festival known as the "festival of colors". Held predominantly in the Indian subcontinent, it celebrates the victory of good over evil. The manner it is reveled originated from the childhood pranks of Lord Krishna–the reincarnation of Lord Vishnu–of dousing village kids with colored waters.

Occurring every year on the day after the first full moon of March, Holi Festival coincided the morning after our magical experience of sleeping on the sand dunes of Jaisalmer.

Our trek back to the city of Jaisalmer was filled with gaiety episodes bookending with a bittersweet farewell to our camels–who proved to be loveable creatures of the unforgiving terrain of Rajasthan. I patted mine on the head and hear her make a sound as if acknowledging my gesture of goodbye.

Although compared to other cities in India such as Vrindavan, Pushkar, Jaipur and Hampi, the Holi Festival in Jaisalmer appear more laid-back and intimate. There are no mosh-pit type of crowd gatherings on the streets. Rather, locals parade on the streets in waves of varying numbers from a handful to a couple of dozen.

Still, I can’t deny feeling the unique festive vibe of the Holi. After wiping the blotches of color powder on my face, I joined our group on the street of Jaisalmer with a clean slate. The locals seem to notice it because a minute later, we were all blemished again with rainbow colors. I love the fact that the revelers were polite about it. They always ask my permission before flinging powders to my direction. I was like “bring it on, I’m game for this”.

Around early noon, the euphoric vibe turned more chaotic as the crowd started to thicken. Chaotic in a way it should be–otherwise it won't be the Holi I've always wanted to witness.

I wouldn’t have known that in my excitement to book cheap plane tickets to Kolkata would overlap with the Holi Festival. I just picked two random dates 26 days apart in March to pencil my first ever visit to India.

Four years later and after a couple more return journeys to India, and the memory of that Holi Festival remains as crystal clear in my head. I can still hear the laughter of the jubilant merrymakers as we all chuck colored powder in the air, catching it by dancing under it facing the sky and with outstretched arms.

Living up to the original emphasis of the Holi rituals to shy away the demoness Holika, I felt like I've shed my own inner demons as well. My initial trip to India not only opened my eyes to a wider world, I also discovered my good karma–the main mechanism that brought me there. A favorable fate that shall come aplenty, if only we can continue doing things at the pure desire of our heart and soul.

The Araguaney tree blooming with yellow leaves behind me provided a vibrant prelude to what I was about to witness. As the marching drums of the twelve participating contingents in the street dance competitions start to pound foot-stomping beats, I can feel the vibe of Kaamulan Festival becoming more electrifying.

Celebrating the indigenous culture of Bukidnon, the festival highlights the dynamic enactments from the province’s seven ethnic groups; Manobo, Higaonon, Bukidnon, Talaandig, Umayamnon, Matigsalug and the Tigwahanon – into a yearly occurrence showcasing their traditions, rituals and way of life.

First celebrated in 1974, the Kaamulan Festival has now become one of Mindanao’s biggest cultural revelries. Kaamulan comes from the Binukid word “amul”, which translates to “to gather”, therefore ringing true to the festival's constant gathering of the seven ethnic groups of Bukidnon.

This unique setup makes it the only authentic ethnic festival in the Philippines, according to local organizers and cultural heritage advocates.

As the morning sun sheened the stretch of Sayre Highway, where I joined a multitude of people eagerly waiting for the parade to start, I caught a glimpse of the colorful contingents from a distance away. Wanting to probe closely, I walked towards them and came face-to-face with a sundry and vibrant set of performing delegations – all ready to rock the place while adorned in their colorful traditional costumes.

It dawned on me that there is more to the romping, stomping drumbeats and captivating street dances, as the participants are also exhibiting their fine artistry perfected from past generations through the intricate creations of their clothes.

Each aesthetic seen covering their bodies—from headwear to handcrafted clothing designed with flamboyant cross-stitching patterns to the distinctive accessories—you could see the sheer amount of artisanship they applied to showcase their tribal culture through a pomp presentation and visual feast.

With permission from the indigenous elders of the seven ethnic groups of Bukidnon, sacred dances depicting various ways of life, rituals, and cultural practices were performed accompanied by traditional music. The performers soon filled much of Sayre Highway with a sparkling wave of spectacle.

The street parade lasted from sunrise to mid-morning until the twelve contingents reached the stadium grounds of Malaybalay, where they competed for the other category: the best in ground presentation.

The performers from Malaybalay were ultimately adjudged the champions for the Street Dancing category, while the contingent from the municipality of Pangantucan bagged the Ground Presentation trophy.

The Kaamulan Festival is more than just the street dance parade; it is a multi-day folk celebration aiming to promote the deep understanding of diverse cultures. The night before the grand street parade, we watched a cultural presentation depicting an epic folk tale of the Talaandig and Manobo people.

The Ulaging: The Marriage of Agyu and Tagyakuwa recounts the journey to immortality of Bukidnon's cultural hero, Agyu, and his marriage to Tagyakuwa. This fascinating Mindanaoan legend was narrated through the graceful dance choreography of the Bukidnon State University Dance Troupe and a poignant musical performance by the members of the Bukidnon State University Chorale.

After witnessing how some of the festivals all over the Philippines have surrendered to the euphoric pull of commercial mass revelry, I find the Kaamulan Festival as remaining entirely true to its roots: that of highlighting and safeguarding the rich culture of its original indigenous people.

Feeling fortunate to witness the Kaamulan Festival, I not only returned home with poignant memories of enchanting dance performances, but I also amassed a wealth of knowledge about the rich culture, storied history, and ancestral way of life of the magnificent seven ethnic groups of Bukidnon.

This article first appeared on the print pages of the Daily Tribune on June 29, 2018.