Inside a Saskatoon community hall, the rhythmic sounds of Filipino folk music fill the air as dancers move in practiced synchronicity. Their vibrant costumes—handwoven barongs, embroidered butterfly sleeves, and colorful skirts—tell stories of traditions that stretch across oceans to the Philippine archipelago.
“We’re not just performing. We’re keeping our culture alive,” explains Maria Santos, the artistic director of Kayumanggi Filipino Folk Ensemble, which has become a cultural anchor for Saskatoon’s growing Filipino community over the past 15 years.
The ensemble, whose name means “brown-skinned” in Tagalog, includes dancers ranging from children to seniors. Their repertoire spans dozens of traditional dances representing various regions of the Philippines—from the Muslim-influenced movements of Mindanao to the Spanish-flavored dances of Luzon.
During a recent Saturday practice, I watched as twelve dancers balanced candles on their heads while performing the Pandanggo sa Ilaw, a dance that originated in Mindoro province. The precision required reflected months of dedicated practice.
“My parents came to Saskatoon in 1995, but I was born here,” says Jasmine Reyes, 19, who has danced with the group since childhood. “These dances connect me to a homeland I’ve only visited twice. When I perform, I feel my grandparents’ stories coming alive.”
Saskatchewan’s Filipino community has grown substantially, with Statistics Canada reporting over 33,000 residents of Filipino descent in the province as of 2021. This growth parallels the national trend, with Filipinos representing one of Canada’s fastest-growing immigrant populations.
For many new arrivals, the dance ensemble provides more than entertainment—it offers a sense of belonging. “When I first moved to Saskatoon three years ago, I knew nobody,” says Carlos Mendoza, who works as a healthcare aide. “Finding this group was like discovering family. We share not just dance, but our lives.”
The ensemble performs at multicultural festivals, community events, and private celebrations throughout Saskatchewan. Their appearances at Folkfest, Saskatoon’s largest cultural festival, have become a beloved tradition for many city residents.
“These performances build bridges,” notes Dr. Elena Vargas, a cultural anthropologist at the University of Saskatchewan who studies diasporic traditions. “They allow the wider community to appreciate Filipino heritage while giving the performers a chance to maintain connections to their cultural identity.”
Those connections manifest in fascinating details. Dancers perform the Tinikling—the national dance of the Philippines—by nimbly stepping between bamboo poles that are rhythmically tapped together. The dance mimics the movements of the tikling bird evading bamboo traps set by farmers.
“Each dance has a story,” explains Santos. “The Singkil tells of a Muslim princess rescued from an earthquake. The Binasuan showcases the balance and grace needed to dance with glasses of rice wine without spilling a drop.”
Behind every performance lies months of preparation. The ensemble meets twice weekly in a rented community space, where older members teach newcomers. Traditional costumes are either imported from the Philippines or painstakingly handmade by community volunteers.
“Last year, my mother spent three months embroidering butterfly sleeves for our Maria Clara dresses,” says dancer Teresa Villanueva. “She learned this skill from her mother in Cebu. Now she’s teaching me.”
The group faces challenges, particularly financial ones. Costume materials, venue rentals, and performance transportation costs add up quickly. A modest grant from SaskCulture helps, but most funding comes from community donations and performance honorariums.
“We’re applying for more sustainable funding,” says ensemble treasurer David Ocampo. “But regardless of what happens, we’ll find a way to continue. This isn’t just a hobby—it’s our heritage.”
Beyond preserving traditions, the ensemble has become an intergenerational community hub. During practice breaks, older members share Filipino snacks like bibingka (rice cakes) and stories about life back home, while younger dancers teach their elders Canadian slang.
“My grandmother barely speaks English, and my kids barely speak Tagalog, but they connect through dance,” says Teresa Villanueva. “When they’re practicing together, the generation gap disappears.”
The ensemble’s work feels increasingly urgent as second and third-generation Filipino-Canadians grow up with fewer connections to their ancestral culture. A 2022 study by the Philippine Studies Association of Canada found that language retention among Filipino-Canadian youth is declining, with just 37% of third-generation youth able to speak any Filipino language.
“Dance becomes even more important when language fades,” notes Santos. “These movements carry our history in ways words sometimes cannot.”
The group’s recent adaptation of traditional dances for contemporary settings demonstrates their evolution. For Filipino Heritage Month last June, dancers performed a fusion piece combining traditional Pandanggo movements with modern music, which resonated particularly with younger audiences at Saskatoon’s River Landing.
Looking ahead, Kayumanggi plans to expand their community outreach through school workshops and collaborate with other cultural dance groups in Saskatchewan. They’ve already begun conversations with Ukrainian and Indigenous dance ensembles about a joint performance exploring themes of migration and belonging.
“We’re not museum pieces,” Santos emphasizes. “Filipino culture is living and breathing. It changes as we do, here in our new home of Saskatoon, while keeping its heart intact.”
As practice ends, the dancers gather in a circle, arms around each other’s shoulders. They finish with a traditional blessing in Tagalog before switching to English conversations about weekend plans and upcoming exams—a perfect illustration of the cultural duality they navigate daily.
In a world where global connections often seem to dilute cultural distinctiveness, these dancers remind us that traditions don’t have to disappear with distance. Through dedicated practice and joyful performance, Saskatoon’s Filipino dancers are ensuring their heritage continues to move forward, one graceful step at a time.
