A Holy Week showdown: ‘Caridad’ vs. Sharon

This holy Week, a beloved Filipino tradition called Caridad (charity) will be observed in catholic neighborhoods all over the archipelago. Caridad is the practice of distributing free food to participants of religious rituals, particularly during the Good Friday processions. Feeding other people is already inherent among Filipinos. Blowout means a big or lavish meal that allows people to eat a lot. But in the Pinoy context, 
blowout means treating everyone on the occasion of a birthday, a first salary, a 
promotion, or when one is simply feeling generous.


Even in pre-Spanish times, tribal leaders in the north or datus (chiefs) in the
south threw banquets big enough to feed the entire community. The Caridad — 
already Filipinized to “pa-karidad” — was introduced when Spanish friars were 
converting our forefathers to Christianity.


The pa-karidad starts during the “pabasa” (reading) — chanting of the 
“Pasion,” which is based on a book narrating the passion, death and resurrection of Christ. Those who take part in the “pabasa,” of course, have to 
be fed because this religious activity sometimes lasts till way past midnight.


Private owners of statues of Biblical saints that are part of the Holy Week 
procession also sponsor a Caridad for those who help dress up the “carroza” 
(silver float). Pancit (noodles) is served during these occasions. The “pancit” 
though has to be meatless, especially on Good Friday. In place of meat, the 
noodles are topped with vegetables and squid balls.


Guinata’n is the most popular fare served during a pa-karidad. The
guinata’n is a dessert that has camote (sweet potato), gabi (taro), bilo-bilo
(glutinous rice balls) and sago (tapioca pearls) swimming in sweetened
coconut milk.
 Since hundreds have to be fed, some Caridad sponsors opt to serve the 
cheaper guinata’ng munggo or sweetened mung beans. Another guinata’n version that makes its way to the Caridad is guinata’ng mais or sweet corn.


Hosting a Caridad is a form of religious indulgence — a remission of 
punishment for sin. Filipino Catholics call it “indulgencia.” They practice 
it in the hopes that their sins will be forgiven through an act of charity.


Those who do not have religious images that take part in the Holy Week rituals can still hope for some heavenly indulgence through Caridad. All they 
have to do is set up a table along the procession route and distribute suman (steamed rice cake wrapped in banana leaves) to passersby. 


Caridad is still practiced in this modern world during Holy Week. In the city, those who want to do their pa-karidad distribute bottled water during the Good 
Friday procession. The more generous giveaway mamon (sponge cake) — all properly sealed — that are purchased from popular bakeshops.

Caridad is practiced even outside of Lent. But there’s another term 
for it among today’s generation: Feeding program. During the pandemic, they called it a community pantry.



Caridad as a Holy Week tradition slowly fading away is sad. But a new practice among Filipinos seems to be fast emerging — and that is the complete opposite of Caridad: Sharon.


Pinoys call it nag-sha-Sharon. It means bringing home leftovers from a dinner party. 


But why call it Sharon — or nag-sha-Sharon? Blame it on the lyrics of the theme song of the 1985 Sharon Cuneta Valentine movie, Bituing Walang 
Ningning. Composed by the late Willy Cruz, there is a part in the song that goes “balutin mo ako ng hiwaga ng iyong pagmamahal...”
 The operative word here is “balutin” or wrap. Before “nag-sha-Sharon” became a popular term, those who loved to take home leftover party dishes were simply called “nagbabalot.” 


“Nag-sha-Sharon” sounds cuter since there’s humor to it. But are the party hosts amused?


The practice of taking home food after a party had been around for a long 
time. But it wasn’t as widespread as we see it today. 


Do we blame that on the invention of microwavable containers? Yes, that’s one of the major culprits. 


During the Tupperware age, party hosts didn’t part with those plastic containers as easily as they do now with the microwavable kind that are disposable. Tupperware was expensive and usually part of a set. Of course, there was aluminum foil as an alternative to Tupperware. But that
was only for dried food. Imagine taking home kare-kare (oxtail in peanut sauce) in Reynolds Wrap.


After Tupperware came the Ziplock era. But that wasn’t as efficient as the microwavable container when it came to taking home leftovers. 


No thanks to the microwavable container, we now have a whole generation 
of “Sharons.” The song — though an innocent party in this breach of social 
etiquette — may also be blamed for this now ill practice of wrapping food after a 
dinner celebration. It made this bad habit look less offensive.


The nag-sha-Sharon term became popular before the pandemic. Those packing food into containers usually hummed the Sharon Cuneta song as they pillaged through the buffet table. All that looked harmless — even funny. It has 
ceased to be a laughing matter today though — what with everyone doing it.


Sharon Cuneta claims she does it. There is even a video of her stuffing Japanese food into a Styrofoam container at the party of cousin Gian Sotto, the current Quezon City vice mayor and son of Helen Gamboa and Tito Sotto.


Maybe Sharon was just trying to be cute. And surely, that was one entertaining video — Sharon herself doing a “Sharon.”


Unfortunately, this Sharon practice is starting to get out of hand. Dinner 
parties weren’t always this way.



In the past, guests who were invited to a birthday party always brought a gift. At the end of lunch or dinner, everyone just went home. If the party is held in a private home, a guest who is a relative or a close friend can whisper to the host 
for a takeout request. The wrapped food is discreetly handed to the guests at the end of the celebration.


Today, some dinner guests behave like a swarm of locusts over the buffet 
table even before the affair is over — shamelessly wrapping food in containers without the permission of the host. Most Sharons even instruct the house help to 
give them microwavable containers for their loot. 


I remember attending a dinner at a friend’s house where Jose Mari Chan and his wife, the former Mary Ann Ansaldo, made do with guinata’an because the 
other dinner guests had wrapped all the food even before the host called it a 
night. Fortunately, the Chans — oh, bless them — were so polite. Not once did 
they make the host feel embarrassed over the “food shortage.”


Well, at least, Jose Mari Chan didn’t have to sing for his supper. He didn’t 
have to. There was no supper left. 


How have we gone this low? For some, it’s the hard times. For most others, it’s plain and simple gluttony. 


Or does distance have something to do with it? If one is from Alabang and is compelled to attend an event in Quezon City, one may as well make sure the trip 
is worth it. There is a term in the vernacular for it: “sulit.”


Every Holy Thursday, there is a religious ritual called Cordero (lamb). Symbolizing Christ, a figure in the form of a lamb (made out of mashed potato) 
is carried out in a procession to the church during the mid-afternoon. A dinner 
follows at the house of the hermano mayor, who is the sponsor of the 
festivities. 


Since a generous spread will be laid out for the participants of the rituals, heaven forbid there will be Sharons. But expect them to be there.


This Holy Week, images of the Holy Women who were part of the Passion of Christ will be brought out in procession: Mary (as the Sorrowful Mother), Magdalene, Salome, Veronica, Cleofe and Martha. No, there are no statues of 
Caridad and Sharon.


But there will be a Caridad in some communities where free food will be distributed. In the same manner, expect “Sharon” to be around — taking home extra food after the Cordero. 


So, who — or in this case, what — will prevail this Holy Week? It’s going to be Caridad vs. Sharon.