Before the bright masks and drums, long before all the flash, Ati-Atihan in Kalibo was about indigenous Ati people, simple thanksgiving, and devotion to Santo Niño. It is often called the “Mother of All Philippine Festivals.” Every third Sunday of January, Kalibo comes alive in a week of build-up: people painting their faces black, dancing in the streets, beating drums, wearing tribal inspired costumes, giving thanks, remembering myths of Malay settlers, Ati resistance and community. There’s no precise, reliable annual number for attendees, but it draws thousands of locals, hundreds if not thousands of tourists, both domestic and foreign, in recent years. Ancient in memory (local tradition puts origins centuries back, sometimes as early as the 13th century), its organised religious and performative features were intensified during the 20th century. For many visitors, Ati-Atihan feels raw and immersive, less polished in some ways than other festivals but deeply alive.