Monday, December 30, 2013

Economy of the Dulangan Manobo

(Blogger’s note: The following is an excerpt from the book Defending the Land: Lumad and Moro People’s Struggle for Ancestral Domain in Mindanao, specifically pp. 108–9. The publishers welcome and even encourage the reproduction of the book in part or in its entirety, so I am posting this excerpt here without prior permission. To cite the book, please see Webliography.)

As native inhabitants of Mindanao, Manobo communities lived in subsistence. From the lush forests, they hunted for wild animals and gathered wild fruits. The forests also provided them with abundant supply of forest products, including timber for building their settlements.

The Dulangan Manobos of Lebak developed various methods in pangayam or hunting, being proficient hunters. They utilize special contraptions for specific preys: balatik for trapping wild boars and deer, eti for fishing, katupid for catching monkeys, and tukob for rats.

Slash and burn methods of farming has long been a common practice among the Dulangan Manobos of Lebak. They are aware that maintaining soil fertility ensures efficiency in agricultural production, so they maintain several farming grounds. They avoid cultivating the same ground by transferring to another. They grow rice, corn and various root crops in the fertile lands of Abogado, Kibetek, Dulaw and Megaga.

Sawitan or sawit is a bayanihan type of farming endemic to the natives. It is a community practice of communal farming and harvesting. They share all produce equally, even with those who were unable to participate.

In farming, the Dulangan Manobos of Lebak perform rituals to ensure a fruitful harvest. To the deities, they make offerings of rice, chicken, tobacco and betel nut that they place on top of an altar or on holy ground.

In foretelling a planting season, the natives refer to nature, mostly to the singing of the bird Alimukon. It is a bad omen if Alimukon begins to sing before planting. The natives also resort to astrological indications. If and when they see three stars closely linked in the heavens, they immediately start planting.

Kailawan is the ritual for the first harvest. This relates to Namola how fruitful the harvest has been.

Monday, December 23, 2013

The Manobo of Mongkil and Kulaman

(Blogger’s note: The following is an excerpt from the book Defending the Land: Lumad and Moro People’s Struggle for Ancestral Domain in Mindanao, specifically pp. 107–8. The publishers welcome and even encourage the reproduction of the book in part or in its entirety, so I am posting this excerpt here without prior permission. To cite the book, please see Webliography.) 

According to Datu Ismael Sakudal, Datu Talihop Kaf’d and Bise Palawan of Sitio Mongkil, Barangay Basag in Kulaman, the Manobos had always lived in the area as far back as anyone can remember. The area was one huge forest teeming with wild animals. The Visayans arrived sometime in 1960, starting with some 30 Ilonggo families scattering themselves in the vast expanse. More settlers moved in later, with the Ilocanos and Cebuanos joining the migration in the later part of the 70’s, bringing the number of non-Lumads to 200 families. The Christians bought, leased and squatted on some lands tilled by the Manobos. They were able to acquire titles to lands once belonging to the Lumads. Eventually the Lumads realized what was happening to their property but could not do anything, ignorant as they were of the legal processes of land possession.

Lambak became a barangay sometime in 1991. The barangay officials are largely settlers. In time, much of the Manobo culture started to vanish, as they hardly had time to get together to maintain their cultural practices. Antang-antang is now almost a thing of the past. They bury their dead almost immediately, with little more than a sheer box to contain the dead, as there are no more trees to fell for the trunk-coffin. With Christian dominance firmly established in the place, the Manobos are pessimistic that they can still retrieve what they had lost over the years.

Barangay Kulaman, more popularly known as the Manobo Village, is at the edge of the municipality. It is home for the Manobos from different sitios and barangays when they get into town. There are a hundred families in the village, but each of them have [sic] a farm in one of the outlying sitios or barangays. The idea of having a village for the Manobos in the municipality was a brainchild of the late Sultan Tagenek Dakias, and approved by the office of the former PANAMIN. It became a reality sometime in 1978. The village consisted of 178 lots, each with an area of 600 square meters. At the village, government officials, provincial or municipal, meet with the datus and Sultan to discuss various concerns. It also became the residence of the present “sultan” of the Manobos, “Sultan” Rey Dakias. The apostrophe [sic] indicates that the community of datus have not confirmed him yet officially as Sultan. The village also served as a haven of the Manobos, especially those who bring their sick to the municipal clinic. Those taking a break from their hectic farm work or who wish to while away their time between planting and harvesting of their crops also stay at the village.

Monday, December 16, 2013

The Manobo of Nati and Sewod

(Blogger’s note: The following is an excerpt from the book Defending the Land: Lumad and Moro People’s Struggle for Ancestral Domain in Mindanao, specifically pp. 106–7. The publishers welcome and even encourage the reproduction of the book in part or in its entirety, so I am posting this excerpt here without prior permission. To cite the book, please see Webliography.)

Informants Datu Embeng, Colon Manguda and Alberto Dakias of Barangay Nati said the non-Manobos (Ilocanos) started trekking into the place as early as 1952. The fertility of the soil and the prospects of setting up commercial establishments attracted them to the Manobo lands. The Resurreccion, Nacional, Labrador, Narvaez, Marcos, Difuntorum and Paluta families were the first, and their descendants remain here to this day. The Manobos retreated into the hillsides to avoid contact with the new arrivals, who became the dominant and prominent residents in the lowlands.

The sitiobecame a barangay in 1989, with a certain Pepito de Ramos as the appointed baranagy captain. During his tenure, he opened a primary school in the area, though Kulaman is only three kilometers away. The barangay has a total population of 970 families, with the Manobos numbering 200 households. They still largely depend on kaingin for their livelihood, planting rice, corn and coffee. As there are no more forests to hunt, and as the streams have few fish, they learned to irrigate their ricefields.

They still practice most of the Lumad rituals, but the role of the Balian is diminishing as some of the Manobos converted to the Protestant faith. They still adhere to the authority of the datus to settle conflicts among themselves and among members of the family. They look forward to the regular antang-antang where the community discusses important issues.

Barangay Sewod got its name from an old datu named Datu Sewod. He was a renowned and respected leader of the community. He married four women, namely Takong, Hagfa, Langgal and Kadi. The last two wives bear the names of present day barangays in the municipality.

According to the informants Datu Mantiko Watamama, Datu Agiro Sedteng, Datu Ungan Ange and Rumbalay Itang, four Ilonggo families arrived in Baranagay Sewod sometime in 1952 and stayed a while with some Manobo families. At that time, there were only about 12 Manobo households.

Now, Christian settlers in Sewod number more than 2,000 individuals. The newcomers grabbed the parcels of land they once borrowed from the Manobos. Later on they had these parcels of land titled in their favor. They greatly outnumbered and outsmarted the Lumads in the latter’s own stronghold. No Lumad rose to the rank of political leader.

Monday, December 9, 2013

The Manobo of Midpanga and Midtungok

(Blogger’s note: The following is an excerpt from the book Defending the Land: Lumad and Moro People’s Struggle for Ancestral Domain in Mindanao, specifically pp. 105–6. The publishers welcome and even encourage the reproduction of the book in part or in its entirety, so I am posting this excerpt here without prior permission. To cite the book, please see Webliography.)

Sitio Midpanga of Barangay Kuden is two and a half kilometers away from the barangay. The rolling terrain made the place unreachable, except by carabao and horses.

According to Datu Kulap Manguda, he is the oldest person in the community. He came from Landingan, Kulaman and moved here long before the Second World War. They are the only family in the area who lived there for a long time, until other Manobos arrived in the 1960s. The area now has 63 Manobo households or some 90 families.

The Manobos still plant corn, upland rice and coffee, evident in the fields dotting the hillsides. Most of the Manobo residents built their huts on hilltops or on the hillsides, offering a breathtaking view of the slopes below. Christian settlers did not bother them, but they say they will feel more secure if the land is theirs to keep without risk of encroachment.

The Manobos lived in Barangay Midtungok since time immemorial. The place had once been lush forest, with wild animals aplenty for hunting. No Manobo table was without roasted deer or pig or monkey, even birds, as the Manobos were good hunters. Their means of livelihood, in addition to hunting in the forest and fishing in the Kulaman River, was planting rice, corn, camote and camoteng kahoy.

Informants Datu Angkay Omot, Datu Mog Pandim, Kagawad Teb Pangki, Danny Salaya said the Ilocanos started arriving in the early part of the 1950s, the first being led by the Narvaez, Nacional and Erpos families. The Ilonggos followed suit in the 1970s. Shortly after the arrival of the Christians, the sitio opened a primary school. Lately, they added Grade V classes, and there is a plan to open Grade VI classes in 1998.

Many Manobos occupy the central portion of the barangay. There are some fifty Manobo families, with more than 500 registered voters. There are about four hundred Christian families in the area.

The election of two Manobos in the barangay—Teb Pangki and Kapali Sonap implies the Christians’ acceptance and recognition of their leadership. Ted Pangki even emerged as number one kagawad in the last elections. There are also four datus in the community: Datus Angkay Omot, Mog Pandim, Abung Ateng and Dyanon Sasa.

Monday, December 2, 2013

The Manobo of Bagsing and Lagubang

(Blogger’s note: The following is an excerpt from the book Defending the Land: Lumad and Moro People’s Struggle for Ancestral Domain in Mindanao, specifically pp. 104–5. The publishers encourage free reproduction of the book, so I’m posting this excerpt without prior permission. For the complete citation, see Webliography.)

The ancestors of the present Manobos of Sitio Bagsing, Barangay Gapok lived here since time immemorial. They were the first known residents of the area. The name of Sitio Bagsing is both the name of the first known datu and a creek nearby. The sitio used to be virgin forest, teeming with wild animals, deer, wild pigs, monkeys, and wild fowls; the creek also teemed with fishes. The Manobos hunted with bows and arrows, spears, and the luba (pointed bamboo) for wild pig. They also engaged in kaingin system of agriculture, cutting down trees in the process, to plant corn and rice for household consumption.

Informants Datu Samagka Mandaw, Datu Ali Ulan, Datu Langgal Lape and Datu Kafay Gogo said the Ilonggo settlers came in small groups sometime in the 1950’s. Now, they number about 40 families. They worked on the Manobos’ kaingins, promising to leave after harvest. They never did.

The Manobos’ current means of livelihood is planting rice and corn. The excess of their family consumption goes for sale, either at the center or at Kulaman, about 22 kilometers away.

The Manobos of Lagubang have been in the place for as long as anyone can remember. Their early means of livelihood was hunting in the lush forest for wild pigs, deer, monkey, pythons, and monitor lizard (halo). Fishing in the nearby river and planting banana, corn, rice, root crops and sugar cane are their main source of subsistence.

According to Datu Eyet Enggew, Datu Talo Empet, Datu Sakay Salaman, Ernesto Kantim, Ebe Solot and Palot Dangya, the Ilonggos arrived in 1983, in the course of an evacuation. They chanced upon the place and decided to settle there after the evacuation. They secured pieces of land through borrowing or mortgaging some lots from the Manobo residents.

Lagubang became a barangay in 1991, with a certain Leopoldo Deoric as first appointed barangay captain. The next barangay captain was Elmerto Cordero,a nd the latest was Daane Datoon. All three barangay captains were non-Manobos. Buagas Enggew, Mapel Owag and Gomer Ugat are Manobo kagawads in the community. At present, there may be a thousand families in the length and breadth of Lagubang, with the non-Manobo settlers numbering some 70 families and occupying the central portion. The Manobos reside in the periphery of the poblacion and in the hillsides.

Monday, November 25, 2013

The Dulangan Manobo and Their Domain: Kulaman

(Blogger’s note: The following is an excerpt from the book Defending the Land: Lumad and Moro People’s Struggle for Ancestral Domain in Mindanao, specifically pp. 103–4. The publishers welcome and even encourage the reproduction of the book in part or in its entirety, so I am posting this excerpt here. To cite the book, please see Webliography.

Except for inserting a minor correction, enclosed in brackets, I did not change a single word and kept the style of the text as it appears on the source. Note, however, that some descriptions of geographical locations in this excerpt are not accurate. For a disambiguation of the term Kulaman, see the blog page About Kulaman.)

In Kulaman (now Ninoy Aquino), Sultan Kudarat, the names of sitios, barangays and other places were often derived from the names of people such as their ancestors, events or things. For example, Lambak is the other name of a place called Basag, a term used referring to the soil in the middle of the forest. It also referred to the core (ubod) of a Tapican (palm variety) abundant in the vicinity.

According to the informants, Datu Keson Mamo, Eddie Labe and Jessie Andang, at first there were twenty Manobo families in the area. When the Visayans started arriving in 1974, only ten Manobo families stayed in the area. Their means of livelihood consisted of hunting wild animals, which were plentiful in the virgin forest; fishing in the nearby river or stream; and engaging in kaingin agriculture. As with the other Manobos, they subsisted mainly on dagmay (gabi), sugar cane, sweet potatoes, cassava, corn and rice. Later, they also planted coffee.

The barangay officials of the poblacion of Bugso set a reservation for the Manobos comprising 42 hectares. There is also a proposal by the same officials to make the sitio a separate barangay by itself.

The name of Sitio Todog of Barangay Bugso came from the name of a hunter from Malegdeg who rested and died under the shade of a large tree. The sitio is eight kilometers away from the Municipality of Sen. Ninoy Aquino or Kulaman, and three kilometers from the center of Brgy. Bugso. Its view is splendid, with hills similar to Bohol’s Chocolate Hills, though fields dot the hillsides.

Later, a Manobo named Dipunto Kalay, claimed some 1,500 hectares of land for the use of his family, much to the consternation of the other Manobos. The clan numbered about 30 families, with a population of more than a hundred, including children.

The name of Barangay Lagubang is derived from the oldest resident of the area. A nearby sitio also bears the name of his wife Kapatagan.

Barangay Midpanga was named in honor of a certain datu who went hunting in the lush forest one morning and never returned. His family and relatives went searching and found him dead under a big tree, apparently killed by a falling branch (sanga). Since then they called the place where they found him Midpanga.

Barangay Midtungok got its name from a creek where a mother and a child drowned during a [raging] flood. The child rushed to save his mother who was carried downstream by the strong current. Both disappeared in the swirling waters, their bodies found a couple of days later.

Baranagay Nati was named after the first known leader of the community who died by drowning during a devastating flood long before the Spanish and American colonization.

Monday, November 18, 2013

The Dulangan Manobo and Their Domain: Lebak and Kalamansig

(Blogger’s note: The following is an excerpt from the book Defending the Land: Lumad and Moro People’s Struggle for Ancestral Domain in Mindanao, specifically pp. 101–3. The publishers welcome and even encourage the reproduction of the book in part or in its entirety, so I am posting this excerpt here. Except for an editorial insertion, enclosed in brackets and which are necessary to make the meaning of the text clearer, not a single word has been changed and the style of the text as it appears on the source has been preserved. To cite Defending the Land, please see Webliography.)

The Dulangan Manobos have lived in the towns of Lebak and Kalamansig as far as they can remember. They consider these areas in Sultan Kudarat their ancestral territories, where their history and legacies evolved and prospered.

Lebak is one of the 11 municipalities comprising the Province of Sultan Kudarat. It has 27 barangays located in the eastern portion of the province. The Municipality of South Upi is in the North, the Municipality of Kalamansig in the South, Celebes Sea in the West, and the Municipalities of Esperanza and Isulan in the East. It has a total land area of 52,015 hectares. The municipality has hilly and mountainous ranges with an elevation of eight [thousand] feet above sea level. The plains range from level to near level. The uplands are hilly, mountainous and gently rolling slopes suitable for intensive rice and corn farming.

According to the Dulangan Manobo of Lebak, the town’s old name was Meles, referring to a body of water or river, because numerous rivers and creeks traversed the area. One noted river is the Salaman River located in the western portion of the municipality. Other creeks were Mebo, Meles, Bagayan, Megaga, Kadapukan, Mepikong and the Tran River that separated the Municipality of South Upi from Lebak.

The scope of the ancestral domain petition in Lebak focused on seven sitios of Baranagy Poloy-poloy. Initial approximation placed the area coverage at 4,500 hectares in Sitios Mebo, Megaga, Abogado, Bagayan, Kebetek, Balacayon and Bedek. Geographically, the barangays of Regandang, Salangsang, Salaman and the municipality of Kalamansig bound the area being claimed. The boundary to the North is Tran River, Kulaman in the South, Isulan to the East and Celebes Sea to the West.

Compared to their Dulangan counterparts, the Karagatan Manobos had a much greater range of resources to exploit. Aside from farming, they also thrived from the bounties of the marine and coastal resources. With their endemic wisdom, knowledge and familiarity over their ancestral territories, they can well describe how these places evolved and became part of their existence.

Bagayan was a famous hunting spot for early Manobos. Native hunters often pass by a creek (Bagayan Creek) to give offerings and pray for a good hunt to the deity who guards their grounds. Bagayan was the name of a relative of Datu Kadayunan, a generous and kind individual who unselfishly shared his produce to his neighbors. Referring to his deeds, the natives adopted the tradition of communal sharing, later known as Baga-ayan.

Datu Kadayunan, a distinguished hunter, used to pass at Bagayan and performed rites for offerings. The natives believe that the deity endowed him with exceptional skills in hunting during his time.

The introduction of agriculture in the later period of 1800s and the fertile soil turned Sitio Bagayan into hunting grounds of early ancestors. They grew crops such as corn, palay and banana.

A noted place of trade for the natives of Lebak was the Sugod Ibon (trading bird). In ancient times, Manobo and Maguindanaon traders bartered goods ranging from forest products to livestock and ornaments. One of the main commodities these traders bartered were chicken and other game, hence the name of the place.

Sugod Ibon is now called Sitio Abogado. It derived its name from an American lawyer who visited the area during the pre-war period. A prospective treasure hunter, he left the area after spending some time searching for fortune. The Manobos do not know if the lawyer did find treasures, but he certainly left his mark—a place named after him.

Abogado was also the natives’ fishing ground, where they used to catch fresh water catfish and mudfish. Other known fishing grounds were the tributaries of the Salaman River such as the Meles and Megaga Creeks.

Monday, November 11, 2013

The Dulangan Manobo: An Introduction

(Blogger’s note: The following is an excerpt from the book Defending the Land: Lumad and Moro People’s Struggle for Ancestral Domain in Mindanao, specifically pp. 100–1. The publishers welcome and even encourage the reproduction of the book in part or in its entirety, so I am posting this excerpt here. I did not change a single word and preserved the style of the text as it appears on the source. To cite Defending the Land, please see Webliography.)

There are two sub-tribes of Manobo, according to the geographical setting that each occupied. The Karagatan Manobos inhabit the coastal region of Lebak and Kalamansig, essentially adapting their lifestyles to the exigencies of coastal living. The Dulangan Manobos, on the other hand, are native inhabitants of the hinterlands. The rugged terrain accustomed them to the living standards of the remote forests of Lebak and Kalamansig.

According to Manobo traditional accounts, the Dulangan Manobo were descended from a famous chieftain named Dulangan. He was born to a native couple, Timuway and Tapay Lawa, in Dulaw, a mountain slope near Mebo. The term Dulangan means “a high place” referring to the birthplace of Dulangan.

Because of their nomadic nature, the couple left Mebo and looked for another promising place in which to dwell. Already in his mature age, Dulangan opted to stay and established his own settlement in Dulaw. Subsequently, the Dulangans became a sub-tribe of Manobos living in the hinterlands. The evolving Dulangan communities in the mountain areas of Lebak and Kalamansig flourished in the succeeding generations. Their heritage prospered and their birthrights survived even amid several attempts of assimilation and colonization.

Today, the Dulangan Manobos are exerting all possible means to reclaim their ancestral domain. Attempts to recover what is rightfully theirs find them at the crossroad of two conflicting property systems: government-controlled public domain against ancestral land; western-based property law against indigenous law.

Monday, November 4, 2013

The Sultans of Kulaman

More often than not, whenever it is mentioned that the Dulangan Manobo have a sultan, eyebrows are raised. In Mindanao, the title sultan is normally associated with Muslim tribes with a large population, a wide territory, and considerable wealth, such as the Maranaos, the Maguinadanaoans, and the Tausugs in Sulu. In contrast, the Dulangan Manobo is an obscure tribe. They have not been converted to Islam, and for hundreds of years, they have been confined to just one mountainous part of the Cotabato empire.

However, there is enough evidence that the highest-ranking leader of the Dulangan Manobo have been using the title for several generations. The Manobo sultan may not be as well-known and wealthy as his Muslim peers, but he wields considerable power in his community. Kulaman is the most famous of all Manobo sultans. He is believed to have lived in the seventeenth century, and named after him are the following:

  • A river used to be called Matiao, where he died in a flood
  • The central village of the municipality of Senator Ninoy Aquino
  • The municipality of Kalamansig, which means “Kulaman in the river”
  • The Kulaman Plateau, at the heart of which is the Kulaman River

Sultan is Islamic in origin, so it is not surprising if the Manobo copied the title from the Islamized tribes of Mindanao. Marcelino Maceda, an anthropologist from Cebu, stated in a 1964 article in Anthropos magazine, “The titles given to [Manobo sultans] have been borrowed from the Muslims. It may be also mentioned that the present sultan of Kulaman claimed that his position was granted to him by a Muslim ruler from the south.”

Maceda further explained in the footnote: “Informants and Sultan Kalulong Dakyas himself of Kulaman say that the Muslim ruler referred to is Datu de Patuan of Craan, Cotabato.”

More research has to be done on the title. Based on the tradition of many tribes and countries, the first titleholder usually assumes the title or it is bestowed on him by a higher authority, and then he passes it on to his descendants. The claim of Sultan Kalulong Dakyas makes him appear to be the very first sultan. However, Dakyas was probably interviewed in 1960s, and Kulaman, as mentioned, is believed to have reigned in the 1600s.

A local history document, the content of which appears to have been copied in a website on local products, has the genealogy of the sultans of Kulaman. The document states that the following succeeded Kulaman: Sultan Jani, Sultan Ugis, Sultan Tilok, Sultan Kallon, and Sultan Dakias. It also states that Sultan Tagenek Dakias is the first Manobo elected as a councilor in the municipality of Senator Ninoy Aquino.

Note that the information from Maceda and the local history do not match. Maybe Sultan Kalulong Dakyas and Sultan Kallon are the same person, and his son and successor is Sultan Tagenek Dakyas. Being far away from my hometown, and with sources limited to Internet-based, it's difficult for me to ascertain some facts. But at least I'm making progress. Till next post.

Monday, October 28, 2013

Fiction: Road (Part 4 of 4)

(Note: The third part appeared the previous Monday.)

AS IT had been for the past few weeks, Marian found Tony under the tree, waiting for her. They smiled at each other.

Tony joined Marian on the road, and they walked together downhill. “Indeed, it’s just a matter of being used to,” Tony said, “waking up early.”

“I told you,” Marian said. “There is nothing more beautiful than the morning.” She breathed the air. “Everything looks fresh and new. Anything seems possible.”

“You talk weird again,” Tony said. They both chuckled. “But I agree. The leaves look so green and had dew on them. It’s cool to the eyes. I didn’t know what I had been missing until you inspired me to wake up early.”

Both of them fell silent. Marian had heard the word inspired clearly, but she did not want to assume too much. She said, “Well, as much as we should enjoy the view, we should hurry up. We might be late.”

Tony chuckled. “It’s still so early. We would be the first ones in school. Tony’s voice lowered as he finished the sentence. Something caught his attention.

Marian looked ahead, at what Tony was staring, and saw Janice at the fork of the road.

“Just ignore her,” Tony said.

“So it’s true,” Janice said as soon as Tony and Marian were near her. “You come to school together early.”

“Leave us alone, Janice,” Tony said. He and Marian kept on walking, but Janice blocked their way.

“Did you dump me for that Manoba?” Janice told Tony.

“Don’t call her that. She has a name.”

“She’s a Manoba, and I want to call her that. How dare you break up with me because of that filthy girl.”

“Enough, Janice. I left you because of your attitude. It has nothing to do with Marian.”

“So it’s Marian now. You used to call her Manoba when you talked to me about her.”

“Shut up, Janice.”

“Janice,” Marian butted in, “Tony and I are just friends. You have no reason to be mad at me.”

“Friends?” Janice told Marian. “Do you think I’m a fool? You are seducing Tony. You’ve been using some primitive magic of your tribe on him.” Janice reached out to grab Marian, but Tony quickly shielded Marian with his arm.

“Don’t you lay a finger on her,” Tony said. “What she said is true. We’re just friends. She does not want to be in a relationship.”

Janice stared in bewilderment at Tony embracing Marian. “No,” Janice said. “You’re not jut friends. You’ve fallen for her. She has bewitched you.”

“She has not bewitched me,” Tony said. “I truly love her.”

What Tony said surprised them all, probably even Tony himself. Janice was frozen. Marian let Tony lead her away, his arm still around her.

When Tony and Marian were already far, Janice shouted, “We’re not yet over, Manoba! I won’t let you have Tony!” Tony and Marian did not look back, and Janice did not rush at them. Marian stepped away from Tony, and Tony removed his arm from her. They remained close to each other, however, and in silence they walked to school.


MARIAN no longer glanced at Tony’s house, because she knew he wouldn’t be there. He would be waiting for her under the huge tree, and his mother would have no one to nag at. So Marian was surprised when she heard the voice of Tony’s mother, and the woman was addressing her.

Marian was used to hearing the woman shout at Tony in a shrill but affectionate voice, so when she talked to her in a low and cold voice, Marian felt the weight of each word the woman uttered.

“I know what’s going on between you and my son,” the woman said. “Tony’s ex-girlfriend suspects you cast a love spell on Tony, but Tony insists otherwise. I don’t care either way. I want you to stop seeing my son, right away.”

Marian said, “But Tony and I are not doing anything wrong.”

Don’t force me to make things worse for you. We’re living in a small village. I know almost everyone here. I know you. I know you’re engaged to your datu, and the wedding will take place at the first sign of your lack of interest in going to school.”

“Please . . .”

“It’s your decision.” Tony’s mother walked back inside the house.

Confused and afraid, Marian continued on her way to school. When she reached the tree, she found no one waiting for her.


MARIAN and Tony stood in quiet under the tree, the huge trunk between them. The wind was blowing to the west, and Tony was on the east side of the tree, so the rain drenched him up to his knees. He stood still, though, and did not join Marian on the other side.

When the rain abated, Marian walked to the road. Tony called out for her.

She stopped on her track.

“I think of you every morning,” Tony said.

She looked back at him. “Me too,” she said.

“I want to be with you every day. I want to ask you to run away with me. But . . . I’m thinking of the future . . . our future. Together.”

Marian smiled as tears fell from her eyes. “I’m happy to hear that. But it’s going to be a long road, Tony.”

“It is. But I’m used to walking.”

“I’m used to walking, too.”

“I’ll never get tired. If I do, there’s always the morning to remind me that everything can be fresh and new, that anything is possible.”

“You talk weird.”

Their chuckles, hollow and sad, disappeared into the wind.

“I’ve got to go,” Marian said.

Tony nodded.

She walked in a hurry but careful not to slip as Tony watched her from the tree.

Monday, October 21, 2013

Fiction: Road (Part 3 of 4)

(Note: The first part appeared on October 7 and the second part on October 14.)

MARIAN saw Tony’s mother sweeping her yard, but the woman wasn’t her usual nagging self. When Marian saw the huge tree, she found out why. Tony had woken up early and was now waiting for someone under the tree.

Marian thought Tony must be waiting for Janice. Though Janice did not pass by the tree, because her house was farther down the road, Tony probably waited under the tree for Janice to appear in the fork. Marian felt devastated. The tree was supposed to be for Tony and her only.

She walked past the tree without glancing at Tony. So she only noticed that Tony had approached her when he was already walking beside her. “Please bear with Janice,” Tony said.

“What?” Marian said, surprised and confused.

“I know she said not-so-good things to you yesterday. She told me so.”

“It’s nothing,” Marian said.

“It’s all my fault. I wanted to stop her from teasing you about your skirt, so I told her about how you slipped on the mud. But what I did only made things worse. She got the wrong idea. She . . . I’m really sorry.”

“Did you really tell her I repulse you?”

“No!” Tony said with emphasis, as though he found the question objectionable. “Janice is really crazy. She’s so possessive. She creates stories just to make other girls stay away from me.”

“I can’t blame her.”

“What?”

“What she thinks is true. I like you.”

Tony’s mouth fell open.

Marian felt heat rush up her cheeks. Her own boldness surprised her. She had underestimated the depth of her feelings for Tony. He had only shown her a little humility, a little concern for her, and it already drove her to bare her soul to him. Stammering, she said, “W-well, all the girls in school like you, a-and I’m like them. I’m a normal human being.” Tony remained frozen.

Marian forced herself to smile. “You have nothing to worry about, though. I don’t want to be your girlfriend. If my parents know I’m seeing someone, they’ll make me stop going to school and marry me off.” Tony nodded, giving Marian a weirded-out look.

“I’ve got to go.” Marian walked fast ahead of Tony.


IT WAS raining, and Marian was taking shelter under the huge tree. When she heard the footsteps of someone running, her heart fluttered.

The feet stopped and their owner said, “Whew!”

Marian turned and saw Tony, drenched, covering his head with his backpack, and smiling wide at her. She smiled back.

“Thank heavens for this tree,” Tony said, slinging the bag back on his shoulder.

Marian thought of Janice, and she looked at the fork of the road downhill.

Tony seemed to understand her concern. “No, I’m alone,” he said. “We’re no longer together.”

To her surprise, she felt sad for Janice. Marian just nodded to Tony.

“I guess we’ll be stuck here for some time,” Tony said.

“Yes,” Marian said. “The rain is a little heavy.”

They stood quiet just a meter or so apart. After a while, Tony said, “Why do you go to school so early?”

“I have the key to our classroom.”

“What? Many of your classmates live near the school. Why do you have the key?”

“I asked our teacher for it. If I have the key, I would have to go to school every day. My parents could not make me stay at home to take care of my younger siblings or to help my mother weed the farm. Not that I don’t want to help in the chores. It’s just that I want my parents to see that I’m serious with my studies.”

“You don’t want to be married off.”

“Yes, that’s my reason. Many of my friends are already married. They finished first year or second year high school only. You know how it is in our tribe. Young women are often married off to anyone who can pay the dowry. I promised my parents I would go to college.”

“I heard it’s Datu Simtim who wants to marry you.” Marian was surprised that Tony knew about it. “That’s true,” she said.

“Being married to a datu does not seem so bad.”

“Our datu may have more property than other Manobo men, but definitely he’s much poorer than a mayor or a king. It does not matter much if a Manoba is married to a datu or an ordinary Manobo. In our tribe, the men till the soil but it’s the wives who take care of the crop.”

“So you want to escape from that kind of life.”

“No. I want to help change it. I want to be a teacher. I want to help the younger Manobo learn and make their own choices, not to follow only whatever the elders tell them.”

“Wow. You’re still young, but you already think of the future.”

“Why, don’t you?”

“Well, I don’t know.”

They both laughed.

They talked about themselves, about school, and about life until the rain abated. They talked some more as they walked home on the muddy, slippery road.

To be continued next Monday

Monday, October 14, 2013

Fiction: Road (Part 2 of 4)

(Note: The first part appeared the previous Monday.)

MARIAN walked fast. She was running late for school. She felt like crying.

She couldn’t tell what time it was because she didn’t have a watch. But she knew the flag ceremony must have started and she was very late, because when she passed by Tony’s house, it was closed and quiet. His parents must have gone to their farm and he had left for school.

Marian passed by the huge tree where Tony and she had been stuck the day before. She began to think of it as their tree. Tony and hers. But when she thought of what happened on the road—her slipping and telling Tony about her soiled uniform—she felt embarrassed. She didn’t think she could so much as glance at Tony again.

The tree was on a hilly part of the road. While Marian was walking uphill, she could not see the other side. When she was almost in the same line as the tree, she could see the downhill road, where Tony and a girl was walking together. Marian felt as though the tree had crashed down on her.

Tony and the girl did not seem to be in a hurry. They were talking, and the girl laughed every now and then, slapping Tony in the arm. Marian recognized the girl to be Janice, a classmate of Tony. She was fair-skinned, had bleached bangs and fancy bracelets, and liked teasing her Manobo schoolmates. Marian realized that Janice was the reason Tony was always late. Marian realized too that she might not be late yet.

She hesitated to walk faster and go ahead of Tony and Janice, but the need to arrive in school on time got the better of her. Her head bowed down, Marian walked past the couple.

“Hey,” Janice called out.

Marian knew Janice was calling her attention, but she kept on walking.

“Hey, Manoba!” Janice said.

Marian felt as though the world froze, but somehow her legs were able to keep on walking.

“Did you pee on your skirt?” Janice said, laughing.

Marian knew what Janice was talking about. Her skirt was still clammy. She washed the dirt off the skirt the day before and hanged the skirt near the hearth. She waited for it to dry, but when she realized she would be late, she decided to wear it even if it was still wet. Marian ignored Janice and walked faster.

Marian heard Tony saying something to Janice, but Marian was no longer able to understand his words. All she wanted to do was to get away from them.


MARIAN was walking home, and she wondered why Janice and Tony were following close behind her. She had not walked with them before. She would always go home ahead of her schoolmates. She had only been under the tree with Tony because she had to take shelter from the rain.

“Hey, Manoba!” Janice called out.

Marian walked faster, but Janice ran until she caught up with Marian.

“So your skirt has dried,” Janice said. “Why did you wear a wet skirt today? Don’t you have any other skirt?”

Marian did not say anything. She did not want to fight Janice. She just wanted to avoid her.

“I’m asking you, Manoba,” Janice said. “Answer me.”

To Marian’s surprise, Tony said, “That’s enough, Janice.”

Janice ignored Tony. She told Marian, “Do you have only one uniform?”

“Leave her alone,” Tony said.

“Why are you defending her?” Janice told Tony. “Do you like her? Oh, Tony, I didn’t know you have a thing for Manobas.”

“Shut up,” Tony said.

Marian ran away from the two, and they continued arguing.


WHEN Marian passed Tony’s house, everything seemed to have come back to normal. His mother’s voice reached the street, telling him to wake up.

When Marian reached the tree, however, she saw Janice standing some fifty meters away. Janice was beside the road, on the fork leading to a hamlet where she lived. She was already wearing her uniform. Marian thought Janice must have woken up earlier than usual just to wait for her.

“Hey, Manoba,” Janice greeted Marian with her usual taunting. “I want to talk to you.”

Marian stopped walking. “I don’t want any trouble,” she said in an even voice. The bravery in her voice surprised Janice and even Marian herself. Perhaps Tony’s absence made her feel more of herself.

“Now your true attitude shows,” Janice said. “You’re no longer Miss Nice that Tony’s not around.”

“Leave me alone, Janice,” Marian said. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Don’t act innocent. I know you like Tony. You want to take my boyfriend from me.”

“You’re crazy.” Marian resumed walking.

Janice gripped Marian’s arm. “Who do you think you are? You’re just a Manoba. You’re ugly. You smell. Tony will never like you.”

Marian pulled her arm off Janice’s fingers. “I’m not interested in your boyfriend. He’s all yours.”

“Liar! I know you Manobo women want Christian men.”

Marian felt that her tears were about to burst. She walked fast away from Janice.

“Do you think I don’t know what you did?” Janice walked beside her. “You slipped on the road on purpose so that Tony would come and help you. He told me about it. And know what else he told me? You repulse him.”

Marian stopped walking, and her tears fell.

Janice smiled triumphantly. “You should know your place, Manoba. Go away now. I still have to wait for Tony here.”

The third part will appear next Monday.

Monday, October 7, 2013

Fiction: Road (Part 1 of 4)

THE cornfields were still covered in morning mist when Marian passed by Tony’s house. She knew Tony would not be up yet. He often came to school late, and she liked him for it. She liked him more for being blemished in character than for being the most handsome boy in the village.

Marian was an early riser, and being so, she sometimes wondered why she found Tony’s tardiness something to be fond of. Only years later, when she was a little wiser in the ways of the world, did she realize why. It was because Tony’s flaw made him more human, more reachable for her. It meant that Tony could look at her the way she looked at him.

If Tony could not be made to do everything a student should, then maybe he could not also be made to do everything Christian boys did. His eyes might not be set on Christian girls only. He might see Marian not the way Christian settlers usually saw tribal inhabitants but the way a boy would see a girl.

Tony’s mother was in front of the house, sweeping the yard. When she saw Marian on the road, she went to the side of the house and banged the wooden wall with her broom. “Tony!” she shouted. “Get up now. You’ll be late again.”

Marian was a little disappointed to find out that the room facing the road was not Tony’s. Whenever she passed by the house, she would take her time and stare at the windows, hoping the wooden jalousies would slide open and Tony, rubbing the sleep off his eyes, his hair still ruffled, would peek out and see her.

“God, Tony,” his mother continued talking. “Do I always have to wake you up every morning? When will you ever get up on your own!”

Marian was already two houses away, but she could still hear Tony’s mother. The woman was known in the village for having a loud voice and being a nag. “Tony, do you want me to set your butt on fire? What time are you going to wake up? Your Manoba schoolmate has already passed. Are you not ashamed?”

Marian fled the scene. The road was empty, and no one seemed to have witnessed her humiliation, but her cheeks flushed. Now she knew what Tony’s mother thought of tribal people. The woman had said that Tony should be ashamed because a Manobo girl, someone who for her was in the lower rung of the social ladder, showed a greater sense of responsibility than Tony did. The woman would never think high of Marian as a person, much less a daughter-in-law. Marian could not breathe. Tony had broken her heart even before doing anything.


RAIN was lashing down on the crops. Water flowed on the road, turning it slowly into a shallow stream. Beside the road, Marian was taking shelter under a huge tree. She should be shivering because of the temperature, but she felt feverish instead, because on the other side of the tree, Tony was also taking shelter.

Marian had been waiting for this moment all her life. It felt as though only Tony and she were the only persons in the world. But she dared not utter a word to him. She was afraid that if she greeted Tony and he would say something to her in return, she might faint or make a fool of herself in some way and lose her chance forever of being liked by him too. Tony was also acting as though he was alone, so they stood on their respective sides of the world, the huge trunk between them, too near yet too far.

Marian busied herself by taking off her socks and shoes. They were soaking wet. She was on the eastern side of the tree, and the wind was blowing west. She wrapped the socks and shoes with a paper and placed them in her well-worn backpack. When the rain abated for a moment, she took off without so much as glancing at Tony. Barefoot, she plodded along the muddy road.

She felt as though Tony’s eyes were following her. She walked fast. She wanted to disappear from his sight. She was afraid Tony might see something wrong with her backpack, her skirt, or the way she walked and not like her. In her hurry, she was not able to gauge how slippery one part of the road was. Her foot slid. She lost her balance and fell to her backside on the muddy ground. She burst into tears.

She did not stand up right away. She continued crying without a sound, totally forgetting that Tony was just several meters behind her. She was frustrated because her skirt was a mess, and because she had only one uniform, she didn’t know how she could go to school the next day.

“Are you all right?” a voice asked.

She looked up and saw Tony. His eyes seemed filled with genuine worry, and she looked back at those eyes in disbelief. Tony was the first to stare away. “You don’t seem hurt,” he said. “But you’re crying. You’re so weak.”

Marian felt blood rush up her face. She couldn’t let anyone call her weak. She turned to him and said, “I’m not weak. How dare you say that. You don’t know me.”

“If you’re so tough,” Tony said with a frown, “what are those tears for?”

Marian could not understand why Tony was angry with her. She didn’t know that he was really angry at himself because he got worried for her, for someone he wasn’t supposed to care about. “I didn’t cry because I was hurt,” Marian said. “It’s because my uniform is soiled. I have to wear this until—”

She caught herself. She had just told Tony that she did not change her uniform every day. Embarrassed, she turned away and continued walking, not looking back. Tony did not do or say anything.

The second part will be published next week.

Monday, September 30, 2013

Iloilo: A Quest for Burial Jars (Part 2 of 2)

I'll tell you right away what happened in Iloilo: the burial jar in the local museum was from the province itself, not from Kulaman Plateau in Mindanao. To my disappointment, I learned from the guide that all the burial-related artifacts in the museum were discovered in the town of San Joaquin. I got emo for about five minutes, and then I told myself that the journey itself, not the outcome, was my reward.

When I think about it now, though, I realize I really should have not been sad. I should have been ecstatic. If the limestone burial jar came from Panay Island, not from Mindanao, it should be closer to my heart. My grandfathers on both sides were natives of Panay who migrated to Mindanao more  or less fifty years ago. The limestone burial jars in Iloilo could be a handiwork of my ancestors! I could call them my own, while the jars in Kulaman Plateau were carved by the ancestors of the present-day Dulangan Manobo and could never be truly my own no matter how much I cherish them.

In Museo Iloilo, I also learned from the guide that the museum owned more than one limestone jar. The guide said that the other samples were in the stockroom. I asked if I could see them. She said I had to ask permission first from the head of the office. It was morning, and the head would not come to work until noontime, so I had to wait. The guide made me fill out a request form. I left the museum and did not go back, however. I wasn't ready yet to conduct a formal research—the kind that I have to affiliate myself with some serious project or official-sounding agency, set an appointment to interview authorities, and set out my findings in academese. No. For now, I don't want any attention. I just like to write whenever, wherever, and however I can and want, an obscure scribbler, a sneaky researcher.

Monday, September 23, 2013

Iloilo: A Quest for Burial Jars (Part 1 of 2)

I was in Iloilo City on the first and second days of this month, and I went there in search of burial jars. My sudden decision to take the quick vacation was spurred by a mere online photo. While googling for images of "limestone burial jars," I came upon a photo taken inside the provincial museum of Iloilo, and in it was a familiar-looking crudely carved white vessel.

I could have easily missed the photo if I was making random searches only. But I was feeling quite diligent that time, or I simply wanted to go through each and every result so that I wouldn't have to run the same search. The image of interest must have been image no. 395 or thereabouts, at page no. 20. It was from a post in a backpacking blog.

Burial jars in Museo Iloilo. The first photo I found online was similar to this. 
The limestone burial jar, at the right-hand side, is barely noticeable,
but because I've seen photos of limestone jars and actual samples,
I was able to identify the vessel right away.

The limestone jar in the photo was quite tiny. It was on the side, buried in about a dozen similar vessels. It stood out, however, because of its whiteness. The other jars around it were made of clay and thus colored brown or gray. (This sounds racist, but for the record, I'm not. I like my brown, Filipino skin.) The caption, or the text that accompanied the search result, also made me think that I had just stumbled upon what I wanted to stumble upon.

I googled more about that specific jar in Iloilo. I found other results. But aside from similar-looking photos, I did not find any detailed information on the jar. I learned that it was displayed in Museo Iloilo, and that was just it. I had a feeling that the the jar was from Kulaman Plateau, since I had not read about limestone jars discovered in other parts of the Philippines. I decided I had to go to Iloilo and verify it for myself.

It also happened that I was starting to be burnt out at work. I had been staying in Cebu for about four months, and though the city is filled with excitement and overflowing with charm, my routine employee life was starting to take a toll on my sanity. So I had more than one good reason to hie off to Iloilo.

I bought a ship ticket to Iloilo and a plane ticket for my return journey. I was all set. But something bugged me. There was something off with the way the burial jar in the photo looked. It had the similar rectangular body as that of Kulaman jars, but its lid was circular. The lid of a Kulaman jar was usually shaped like a tent or a tiny human head. The lid of the jar in Iloilo looked like a thick pizza and was too wide for the mouth of the jar. I wondered if it is not from Kulaman.

I had doubts, but I had a strong feeling that the Iloilo jar was from Kulaman. I was going to the city to know how it got there, not to know where it came from. It would be an interesting trip for me, fraught with possible disappointment and fulfilling discovery.

Monday, September 16, 2013

Kulaman Burial Jars in San Francisco Museum

I have long known that two of Kulaman burial jars are in the Asian Art Museum of San Francisco, in California. But I could not devote a single post on them due to lack of images and adequate information. Now, though, I can. I've gathered enough materials to fill a post.

I have two closely taken images of the jars, thanks to a certain BrokenSphere who uploaded his photos in Wikimedia Commons. I'm freely using his photos here because he allows blogs, among other free-license publications, to use the materials without any fee or prior permission.

The jars in the Asian Art Museum was "originally procured" by the Richard Gervais Collection. Gervais, an American, traveled in Mindanao in the 1960s. There he discovered that "there were objects in Asia that could fetch a good price in the U.S." After buying some limestone burial jars from Kulaman Plateau, "he began a business that would become his life's passion for the next half century." Today, his collection of artifacts, religious art, and what-not is displayed in two locations and stored in a 15,000-square-foot warehouse. They came from the different parts of the world, primarily Southeast Asia.

It seems that Gervais did not directly sell or donate the two burial jars to Asian Art Museum. One travel site states that the jars are gifts from a certain Marion Greene. I've been trying to search who this philanthropist is, but Google has not given me any relevant results. The travel site also has a good description of the jars' design: "Burial urns generally come in two shapes: circular and square in section. Typically, they are adorned with simple motifs such as zigzag, diamond, and other geometric patterns. A common decoration on the lid is a three-dimensional human head and arms." I think that's a more accurate description compared to mine in my write-ups.

The size of the first jar above is 34 cm x 70 cm x 32 cm. The other's is 71 cm x 33 cm x 33 cm.


Monday, September 9, 2013

Kulaman Burial Jars in Brussels


Good news: I found out through Google that there are Kulaman burial jars in Brussels, Belgium. Bad news: They are for sale, each for 3,500 euros.

I found the Google images a few weeks ago, and I debated with myself for sometime whether I should write about them or not. I believe that by trying to create a comprehensive research on the jars, by coming up with this blog, I've helped the artifacts become popular. I've helped increased their value, making them more attractive to antiques dealers and collectors.

I don't want to be the one leading buyers to the locations of the limestone burial jars, but I also have the duty to inform you readers the real plight of the artifacts. It is also better if I catalog them now so that it will be easier to trace where they will be. Besides, the jars in Brussels are simply overpriced and only an ill-informed collector would buy them at their advertised price.


The jars in Brussels are quite unremarkable compared to the ones in Ayala Museum or the University of San Carlos Museum. Only one of the two is complete. The other is a lid only. Both are dirty and have started to crumble. At nearly 4,700 U.S. dollars or about 200,000 Philippine pesos each, the 1,500-year-old objects will likely stay where they are now for the next 1,500 years.

The objects are in the tastelessly designed catalog of Trocadero, an "online mall" for "authentic antiques and art offered by credible American, European and Asian antiques dealers." The actual location of the jars, however, is Galerie Cecile Kerner, at 19 Rue Lebeau, Brussels. Below is the description of the jars in the Trocadero website. I edited it slightly for easier reading. I could not make sense of some phrases, though.
Several burial caves were found in the southwestern portion of Cotabato province.These caves had a large number of urns and lids carved from limestone. The average size was about 60 cm, which would be too small for primary burial. The lids were various: some of gable form resembling the roof of houses, some conical form extended to vertical elements often carved into human head or the upper part of a human figure.
Conclusions have been made that high-ranking persons had an anthropomorphic lid. I did a surface test on one of the jars with electronic microscope. It shows vegetal growth after decalcification, and many scientific details that I can explain in French but not in English: Usure en feuilletage des parties en quartz, avec les parties les plus dures saillantes. Phase végétale postérieure à la décalcification. (The erosion is not regular as it would have been with an acid artificial forged patina.)

Monday, September 2, 2013

International Journal Has Three Articles on Kulaman

Finally, I'm able to read the three articles of Marcelino Maceda in the international journal Anthropos. For the non-regulars here, Maceda was the first anthropologist who formally studied the limestone burial jars of Kulaman Plateau and published his findings in research journals. He was a faculty member of the University of San Carlos, here in Cebu City.

I'm reading the articles courtesy of JSTOR, an online library known for its digitized old issues of academic publications. JSTOR, short for Journal Storage, offers most of its contents to paying subscribers only, but it allows registered users to read free up to three items at a time. As I write this, I have been registered for barely a week.

An About page of JSTOR states that the website has been allowing free limited access since last year, at around the same time I started doing research on the burial jars of Kulaman Plateau. The three articles of Maceda were the first few sources I found through Google, but I was able to open their first pages only. I must have missed the option to register, or I must have been wary that the registration process would be cumbersome. In any case, the process turned out to be fast and simple, and I'm glad I did register.

I'm still reading the articles thoroughly. Like most academic text, they're not exactly entertaining, but so far, I've discovered plenty of interesting facts. One is that Maceda actually did an excavation, as archaeologists seem to normally do. He and his companions had to dig up inside the caves to find more burial jars. Though I encountered excavation or excavated in the other journal articles on the jars, I avoided using the terms in my own write-ups because I was not sure what exactly the researchers did. The articles I read before focused on the number and features of the finds and not on the process.

I'll be generously quoting Maceda's writings in my next posts, so do drop by. You may also read the articles yourself. I've added their publication details, with links, in the Webliography page of this blog.

Monday, August 26, 2013

Kulaman Burial Jar in Hawaii

I didn't expect that a simple image search in Google for "limestone burial jars" could lead me to precious photographic finds. Most of the results showed images of Egyptian burial jars, but I've become so familiar with the look of Kulaman burial jars that I could pick them out from the rest at first glance.

The photo of the jar, at the left, is from Wikimedia Commons and posted by a certain Hiart. I'm freely posting the image here because the webpage says that the uploader waives "all of his or her rights to the work." The jar is described in the webpage as something from "Southern Mindanao, Palawan." When I read that, I doubted for a while if the artifact is really from Kulaman Plateau, but after doing a little more online research, I became certain of the origin of the jar.

Mindanao and Palawan are two different islands divided by seawater. My hometown and any place in Palawan are a few hundred miles apart. The limestone burial jar could not have come from Palawan. The uploader or his source might have confused the limestone jars of Kulaman for the clay jars of Palawan. Indeed, when it comes to archaeological artifacts, Palawan is probably the most famous site in the Philippines. It's where researchers found the Manunggul Jar, one of the most admired pre-Spanish Philippine artwork, and before I forget, it's also a burial jar.

Another interesting information that goes along with the image is that it was taken sometime in 2011 at the "Honolulu Academy of Arts." That's another inaccurate description. Though such a college or educational department probably exists, the uploader should have specifically identified the Honolulu Museum of Art as the location. I can't determine yet if the burial jar is part of the regular collection of the museum or if it was just displayed there for a certain time. A website on Asian masterpieces states that the Hawaiian museum is affiliated with the Philippines-based Ayala Museum, which has displayed its Kulaman jars in short-term exhibits in many parts of the world.

My initial research does not give me a clear picture, and I have yet to piece the random facts I've gathered. Join me in my journey. Together, hunched on our keyboards for now, let's trace the trails of the burial jars, map their diaspora, and create a route that they can take on their way back home.

Monday, August 19, 2013

Kulaman Burial Jars in Australia



It looks like the limestone burial jars of Kulaman Plateau have also been Down Under. While googling for some information on the artifacts, I came upon the website of the National Gallery of Australia and read an article on one of its exhibits three years ago. The title of the exhibit was "Life, Death and Magic: 2,000 Years of Southeast Asian Ancestral Art," and Kulaman burial jars were among the items displayed.

The exhibit ran from August 31 to October 31, 2010, and as the feature on the Kulaman burial jars states, the artifacts were lent by the Ayala Museum in Makati. The photographed jars seem to be the same objects the museum lent this year for an exhibit in Paris showcasing pre-Spanish Philippine artifacts. Perhaps it is not a bad thing that this group of jars came to the possession of the Ayala Museum. The institution seems to be genuine in its purpose to promote and preserve Philippine arts and culture. I wonder now which other parts of the world the collection has been to. Maybe I should email the museum's curator about this.


Back to the exhibit in Australia, I like the short text accompanying the jar's image. It succinctly states almost everything you need to know about Kulaman burial jars. It mentions in the last sentence that the covers of the jars are "phallic," and I'm wondering if this was done on purpose or not. It's going to be the topic of a future post in this blog. For the meantime, here's the complete text from the website: 
Many ancient limestone jars were discovered in burial caves in the Cotabatu [sic] region of southern Mindanao. Too small to hold a body, they were used for the secondary burial rites still widely practised in Southeast Asian communities. In these rites to honour the dead, the bones are exhumed and ritually cleaned, then laid to rest in superbly crafted vessels. The surfaces of the jars feature geometric and spiral patterns. The lids take human form, with a phallic head or upper torso and extended arms.

Monday, August 12, 2013

Writing about the Burial Jars in the Vernacular

The writing commission from the National Commission on Culture and the Arts has turned out to be more taxing than I expected. My write-up, about the limestone burial jars of Kulaman Plateau, is not much different from the pieces that I have written before. This time, though, I have to write in Hiligaynon and then provide a Tagalog translation.

The article must be in the vernacular because the collection where it will be included will be used locally. The educational material will be used by teachers in the Department of Education–Region XII. I don't know exactly if the complete output is a book or visual aids for teaching. What I know is that one hundred cultural icons of the region will be featured and the project is being implemented for each region of the country.

NCCA will have the copyright of my write-up, so I will only share with you the first paragraph of my draft. Here's the original in Hiligaynon:
Sang mga 1,500 na ka tuig ang nagligad, ang Kulaman Plateau sa South Central Mindanao ginpuy-an sang mga tawo nga may pinasahi nga pamaagi sang paglubong sang ila patay. Wala mahibaloi kung ginalubong nila sa lupa ang ila patay o ginasulod lang sa lungon asta madunot, pero basta madunot na ang unod, ila ibalhin ang tul-an sa banga nga ginhimo halin sa bato nga limestone. Ang mga banga gintago sa sulod sang mga kweba kag mga rock-shelter, o puluy-anan nga bato, amo nga sa sulod sang isa kag tunga ka siglo, napreserba ang mga banga kag tul-an sang tawo kag, sa karon, nagahatag sa aton sang higayon nga masilip ang panginabuhi sang mga sinauna nga tawo sang Mindanao.
As far as I can remember, this is my first time to write nonfiction in my mother tongue, and I wish I don't have to do this again. I prefer writing in English. I'm not being an elitist or a poseur. I like English better because it has a huge vocabulary and it's easier to check online if my spelling and grammar are correct. With Hiligaynon, I can barely find reliable and comprehensive references. For the same reasons, I find writing the Tagalog translation comparatively easier. Here it is:
Mga 1,500 taon na ang nakalipas, ang talampas ng Kulaman sa Gitnang Timog ng Mindanao ay pinaninirahan ng mga tao na may kakaibang pamamaraan ng paglilibing. Hindi nalaman kung nililibing nila sa lupa ang kanilang patay o nilalagay lang nila sa loob ng kabaong hanggang maagnas, ngunit kapag naagnas na ang laman, nililipat nila ang mga buto sa banga na gawa sa batong limestone. Ang mga banga ay tinago sa loob ng mga kuweba at mga rock-shelter, o kanlungang bato, kaya sa loob ng isa’t kalahating siglo, napreserba ang mga banga at buto at, ngayon, nagbibigay sa atin ng pagkakatong masilip ang pamumuhay ng mga sinaunang tao ng Mindanao.

Monday, August 5, 2013

Book: Defending the Land

Even though I’m three hundred miles away, I’m confident I’ll still be able to keep on writing about Kulaman Plateau. One of the reasons is that I’ve taken with me a book about the Dulangan Manobo, the indigenous people of the place. Let me correct that. I've taken with me a copy of the book. And let me correct myself again. I've taken with me a photocopy of the book—the whole book.

I'm blatantly proclaiming that I pirated the reading material because its publishers allow and even encourage it. The book, Defending the Land: Lumad and Moro People's Struggle for Ancestral Domain in Mindanao, was published by a group of non-government organizations, and they included an "anti-copyright" notice at the supposedly copyright page. The notice reads: "Reproduction, citation and other forms of propagation of this book—whether in part or in its entirety—are welcome and encouraged by the author and publishers."

I'm willing to shell out some amount if the book is available in major bookstores, but it's not. The original copy I got my hands on was from Dakyas, a claimant to the sultan title and the tribal chieftain of Manobo Village, Barangay Poblacion, Municipality of Senator Ninoy Aquino. No, I did not borrow the book directly from Sultan Dakyas. I borrowed it from a cousin who was doing her thesis for her master's degree. She's the one who knew Sultan Dakyas personally and borrowed the book.

Defending the Land contains 21 pages of write-up about the Dulangan Manobo, with sub-sections on their domain, history, economy, art and culture, kinship and social ties, beliefs and practices, polity, and status of ancestral domain claim. The book so far is the most comprehensive reference I have on the Dulangan Manobo. The information there, however, was really just an overview. I wish to find—or write!—a more detailed and voluminous study on the tribe. For now, though, I'm happy enough to have the handy resource.

The book contains interesting facts and is insightful, especially on its discussion on how the tribe has been affected by new forces and structures that encroached Kulaman Plateau. I'll be generously quoting the book in the next few weeks, so do drop by. Together let's learn more about the Dulangan Manobo and think of ways how our knowledge can be translated to tangible results.

Monday, July 29, 2013

The 50th Post: July Updates

Time flies so fast, as the cliche goes. This is already my 50th post for this blog! I've been writing about Kulaman Plateau for 9 months and 20 days now, and this blog so far contains at least 15,000 words, more than 20 original images, and 5 original video clips. I'm proud of what I've accomplished. I'm happy to prove to myself that I can write (almost) regularly about a topic, whether inspired or not and whether I have the spare time or not.

I knew from the start that writing about my obscure hometown would be a thankless job. I knew that writing about a remote, impoverished place, a vanishing tribe, undeveloped tourist spots, and ignored archaeological artifacts would not make me an overnight Internet sensation. So far I've been right. I'm no blogger of the year or rockstar journalist. My efforts, however, have gotten some attention. Some unexpected opportunities came knocking on my door, or slipped into my inbox.

When my write-up about the burial jars was published in a youth column of the Philippine Daily Inquirer, the write-up piqued the curiosity of a group of wealthy antique collectors. The group invited me last summer to go to the nation's capital (free plane tickets and all) to give a talk on the archaeological artifacts, but because of my schedule, or lack of it, I was not able to accept the invitation for their desired date. I was also wary of granting the request because the group and I might not have the same interest. I wish the burial jars to be brought back to Kulaman Plateau, while they probably want the artifacts to grace their personal collections.

Yesterday, I received another invitation related to the burial jars. This time, the person who contacted me was asking if I could write about the artifacts for a government-sponsored educational project. My article would be included in a book or some learning materials that would feature the cultural wealth of Region 12. This is one endeavor that I'm willing to be part of. I hope the project will be pushed through.

I assure you that this 50th post is not going to be the last. I will keep on writing until the hundred caves of Kulaman are declared a Unesco world heritage site, Senator Ninoy Aquino becomes a first-class municipality, and the ancestral domain claim of the Dulangan Manobo is granted. From here to there, I'll be your humble scribbler.

Monday, July 22, 2013

The Two Mayors of Senator Ninoy Aquino

I long wanted to write about the local politics in the municipality of Senator Ninoy Aquino. I wanted the first story to be about the 2013 elections, when another set of officials were, at least in theory, chosen by the people. Alas, I could not find the final and official results of the local elections online. Weeks after the elections, the Comelec website had nothing but partial results for Senator Ninoy Aquino, with only 7 percent or so of election returns processed. Now it already has the final results, but it only shows the total number of votes garnered by the winning mayor and vice mayor.

So instead of giving you the list of my hometown's new "public servants," I will just talk about the two men who have been tugging away from each other the municipal hall like kids fighting over a toy truck (or a doll, for that matter). For several elections now, Dante Manganaan and Rafael Flauta Jr. have been clashing against each other for the mayoralty seat. Their rivalry does not end during elections. Manganaan once questioned in court the legitimacy of Flauta's victory, and when the Supreme Court issued its decision, at one point, the two men both declared themselves mayor and marched to the municipal hall with their respective minions.

It all started in the 2004 elections. Flauta, a comparatively old hand in politics, won over Manganaan, a newly retired policeman, by 86 votes. In the 2007 elections, the two met in the battlefield again, and Flauta won again by more than a thousand votes. But here's the catch: in the evening when the votes were being canvassed, a commotion occurred. Explosion, gun fire, or some loud scary noise cut the proceedings short, and the board of canvassers fled to the capital town, Isulan, where the activity resumed. Comelec later declared Flauta the winner, but according to the tally of Namfrel, an election watchdog, Manganaan won over Flauta.

Manganaan brought the issue to an authority of some kind, the higher Comelec office or the courts. Fleshing out the details would take more space here, so you may read instead the Mindanews article and the Supreme Court decision on the case. To cut the story short, Manganaan turned out to be, or eventually declared as, the true winner in 2009. In the 2010 and 2013 elections, Flauta lagged farther and farther behind. But if you were to ask me, I'd say both of them are traditional politicians. Neither of them has elevated the municipality from its fourth-class status.

Monday, July 15, 2013

The Undiscovered Burial Jars (Part 2 of 2)

I missed my weekly deadline again. Though this post is dated July 15, Monday, I'm actually writing this on July 21, Sunday. Thanks to Blogger's scheduling feature; I can pre-schedule, and post-schedule, my posts. But I want to be honest with you, very few constant readers of this blog, and confess that I sometimes neglect my responsibility as a writer. (Yes, I believe I have a responsibility, though some might say this is "just a blog.")

For the past few weeks, I've been having trouble managing my time. To tell you more about my personal life, I've been given more responsibility at work (okay, enough with the humility: I've been promoted) and I enrolled in a master's degree this June here in Cebu. I believe, though, that I have learned to adjust my schedule to accommodate the new challenges, so I might be able to update this blog as promised for the rest of the year.

Now let's proceed to what I should really be talking about—the limestone burial jars left in Kulaman Plateau. As I revealed in the previous post, I found out last summer that not all the jars had been taken away from my hometown. But the ones that were still there had not been properly preserved. I found a burial jar for a baby at the barangay hall of Kuden, left lying in a corner and sometimes used as a trash bin. The barangay chairman said there were more jars at a cave that was still within the territory of the village but two hours away by motorcycle. The jars there, though, the chairman added, had been shattered to pieces.

It so happened that I was in Kuden to visit the White Cave, which had been generating tourism buzz, and the cave where the burial jars were was near the White Cave. I asked the tourist guide if he could let me see the jars cave, and he said yes. Unfortunately, I underestimated the toil from the trip. Going to the White Cave was exhausting, to say the least, so I begged off and told the guide I would just come back some other time to see the jars.

I was sure, though, that the jars were still there because we came across a sample on our way to the White Cave. It was just a cover, but having seen a number of limestone jars, I could tell that it was authentic. Judging by the way it looked, I believe it had been in that spot for several years only. The thin layer of dirt and moss all over it indicated that it had not been exposed to the elements for long.

A cover of a burial jar lying near the footpath to the White Cave.
It must have been taken from a cave several years ago,
perhaps to be sold, but for some reason, the transaction fell through.
 
The cover was lying near the footpath that my companions and I were treading. The reason for its being there was that some people had tried to carry it from the cave to the populated district of the village, probably to be sold. The barangay chairman of Kuden had told me and my companions earlier that a trading had really occurred in the not-so-distant past. He said the indigenous people in the area took some jars from a cave to prospectors who came from the lowlands. However, the buyers allegedly took the jars without paying the natives, so in their anger, the natives went back to the cave and smashed the remaining jars in pieces.

I had no way of verifying the story, so I took it with a grain of salt. Surely, the true story is more complex and less racist than the chairman's version. If it's true, those who took the jars must have not come from the academe. They're probably treasure hunters. Kuden is not one of the locations where formal research on the burial jars have been conducted. Marcelino Maceda of the University of San Carlos in Cebu, in 1960s, studied (and took away) the jars of Menteng, at present a district of Barangay Tinalon, just beside Barangay Kuden. The jars that are now in Silliman University in Negros came from Salangsang, at present a barangay of the municipality of Lebak, a little farther from Kuden.

Although destroyed, the jars in Kuden is in their original location, so they can still be a good subject of an archaeological research. I hope one will be conducted soon, before they disappear at the hands of hungry looters or selfish wealthy collectors.