The monsoon-like rain had retreated just hours before, leaving behind puddles that reflected strings of colorful parols—star-shaped Filipino lanterns—hanging across Bud Miller Park. As I watched families stream into the grounds Saturday afternoon, the aroma of sizzling lumpia and chicken adobo mingled with the fresh post-rain petrichor.
“This is home away from home,” Maricel Sagun told me, gesturing toward the bustling festival grounds where approximately 2,500 people gathered for the annual Filipino Cultural Festival in Lloydminster. The mother of three has lived in the border city for 12 years but says this celebration helps her children connect with their heritage in ways everyday life cannot. “They were born here, but today, they are truly Filipino.”
Now in its ninth year, the festival has grown from a modest community gathering into one of Lloydminster’s largest cultural events, reflecting the rapid growth of the Filipino-Canadian population in this oil-and-gas city straddling the Alberta-Saskatchewan border.
Census data shows the Filipino community in Lloydminster has more than tripled since 2011, now representing nearly 8% of the city’s population. This mirrors broader national trends that have seen the Filipino-Canadian population grow to over 950,000 nationwide, according to Statistics Canada’s latest demographic reports.
“When I first arrived in 2007, you could count the Filipino families on your fingers,” said Roberto Aguilar, president of the Filipino-Canadian Association of Lloydminster. “Now we have our own grocery store, three restaurants, and even Filipino products at Superstore. This festival is how we show our appreciation to the community that welcomed us.”
The festival featured traditional dances including the tinikling—where performers step between moving bamboo poles—and the singkil, a royal dance featuring precise movements between crashing bamboo poles. Young dancers from the Sampaguita Dance Troupe, most born in Canada, performed with remarkable precision.
Fourteen-year-old Sophia Mendoza has been performing with the troupe since she was eight. “At school, I’m just like everyone else. But when I dance, I feel connected to something ancient and special,” she said, adjusting her intricately beaded costume. Her mother, watching from nearby, wiped away tears. “She’s never been to the Philippines, but the Philippines is in her heart.”
The festival’s food pavilion hosted 12 local vendors offering regional specialties, from Ilocos empanadas to Cebuano lechon (roast pig). Many non-Filipino attendees were trying these dishes for the first time, while others had become devoted fans through previous festivals.
“I wait all year for this,” admitted Lloyd Johnson, a retired oil worker who discovered Filipino food three years ago at this same event. “The pancit changed my life. Now my freezer’s full of lumpia my neighbor makes for me.”
Mayor Carolyn MacLean, who opened the ceremonies with a speech delivered partly in Tagalog to enthusiastic applause, emphasized how the Filipino community has strengthened Lloydminster’s economy and culture. “Our healthcare system, our hospitality industry, our schools—all are better because of the contributions of Filipino-Canadians,” she noted.
Indeed, the economic impact of the Filipino community extends beyond the festival. According to a 2023 study by the University of Saskatchewan, Filipino-Canadians in the province’s small to mid-sized communities are more likely to start businesses and provide essential services in healthcare and education compared to other immigrant groups.
Dr. Eleanor Morales, who led that research, attended the festival while continuing her fieldwork. “What we’re seeing in Lloydminster exemplifies how cultural celebration is actually economic development,” she explained. “These festivals build networks, showcase entrepreneurship, and integrate communities.”
The festival wasn’t just about celebrating Filipino heritage but also addressing challenges. A quiet corner hosted representatives from settlement services, immigration consultants, and mental health resources specifically tailored to newcomers.
“Many still struggle with family separation,” explained Jocelyn Reyes, a community health worker who immigrated 15 years ago. “Some have been waiting over a decade to reunite with children or spouses. Behind the smiles today, there’s also pain.”
Reyes coordinates a monthly support group for Filipino caregivers and temporary foreign workers navigating Canada’s complex immigration system. At their booth, visitors could learn about pathways to permanent residency and family reunification.
As the sun began to set, the festival transitioned to its evening program featuring Filipino pop music and contemporary performances. Teenagers who had earlier performed traditional dances now showcased K-pop-influenced routines, representing the cultural fusion many young Filipino-Canadians navigate daily.
“This is the future,” Aguilar told me, watching these performances with obvious pride. “Not just preserving the past, but creating something new that honors both worlds.”
Walking back to my car as the celebrations continued into the evening, I passed an elderly Filipino man teaching a group of non-Filipino children how to play sungka, a traditional mancala game. The children squealed with delight as they learned to move the small shells across the wooden board, their parents watching with interest.
“See you next year?” I heard one of the parents ask the man.
“God willing,” he replied with a gentle smile. “By then, they’ll be experts.”
The Filipino Cultural Festival continues Sunday with church services in Tagalog followed by community sports tournaments at the Servus Sports Centre. Admission is free, with food tickets available for purchase on site.
