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.