Talisay Terminal and Fare Rates

I'm not sure if the streets of Barangay Kulaman have names. If they have, nobody seems to use them. Destinations are often referred to by the name of the purok (usually named after a virtue, such as Pag-asa or Pagkakaisa) or by the name of the business establishment (usually named after the owner's family name).

The busiest intersection is often referred to as Talisay, after a tree in the southeastern corner. Under the tree is the terminal for skylabs (public utility motorcycles). When I passed by the spot one early morning, it was almost empty. I looked at the fare rates written on a blackboard and discovered that the skylabs take passengers not only within Senator Ninoy Aquino town but also in some barangays and sitios of Lebak, Kalamansig, Bagumbayan, and Palimbang towns.

The Real Name of Twenty-One Falls

 

With the family, I started 2021 at 21 Falls, here in my hometown. But we actually just went to one waterfall. The others are not easily accessible and, I heard, not as big or beautiful. The fall is at Barangay Lagubang. Its pool is up to my thighs only, so you can't swim. To bathe, you have to stand under the water instead, as you would in a shower.

On our way home, we dropped by the house of Brgy. Chairman Gomer Ugat, a family friend. I asked him the name of the fall, and he said it was "Lufaken," but he didn't know what it meant. The e in Lufaken is pronounced like the e in uncle and tricycle.

From Brgy. Kulaman, the poblacion of the municipality of Senator Ninoy Aquino, you have to travel for about thirty minutes to reach the center of Brgy. Lagubang. The highway is paved, but from the highway to the center of the barangay, you have to travel on a muddy road with large stones. The road, which stretches for about two kilometers, is not passable by bicycle or scooter. Bigger motorcycles and four-wheeled vehicles would be fine. From the center of the barangay, the road is still rough but better. You have to travel by vehicle for four or five kilometers more, and then from the road, you have to walk downhill for about fifteen minutes to reach Lufaken Fall.

Some adventure seekers here say that you can see all twenty-one falls if you go to Lufaken Fall via Brgy. Midtungok. You have to walk uphill along the stream. I have not been to Brgy. Midtungok myself. It is separated from Brgy. Kulaman by Brgy. Kiadsam, and the entire length of the road is unpaved. For now, I think the trail in Brgy. Midtungok is better left to locals. Tourists should head straight to Lufaken Fall via Brgy. Lagubang.

On the way to the fall, one interesting sight is the steep hills in Sitio Benebol. On the foot of them is a Dulangan Manobo community. You can also see the less-seen other face of Ilian Hill and a glimpse downhill of Brgy. Midtungok and Brgy. Kiadsam, the tin roofs of the houses shining under the sun. As someone from here, I'm not impressed with the view, of course, but if you grew up in the plains, especially in an urban area, I'm sure you'll be amazed by the formidable mountains, sloping hills, and how human settlements, and humans as well, look so small amid them.

Fake Burial Jars

I found out a few days ago that the Kulaman Plateau burial jars at the Silahis Gallery in Intramuros in Manila have been sold out, and I have to apologize to the collectors in case they were encouraged to buy the jars after reading this blog. As I have not been posting here for a couple of years now, I wasn’t able to share with the public an important update: fake Kulaman Plateau burial jars do exist, and they probably include the items at the Silahis Gallery.

I learned about the existence of fake jars when I was involved in a tourism-related project at the municipality of Lebak here in the province of Sultan Kudarat. Here’s what I wrote in the report that I had to submit:

“At around 2 PM on July 10, 2018, the writer, together with other members of the research team, dropped by the barangay hall of Keytodac and had a conversation with some local officials who happened to be in the office. The writer heard for the first time the existence of fake burial jars. The informant named the counterfeiter. But names are withheld here because the information has not been confirmed.

“After about an hour, the team proceeded to the barangay hall of Salangsang, where another informant told the team of the existence of fake burial jars. The informant named three counterfeiters, who were in business in the first decade of the twenty-first century. The informant also said that the counterfeiters would soak the fake burial jars in water with urea to speed up the growth of algae and make the jars look old and authentic.

“Apparently, counterfeiting of burial jars and selling them to private collectors is an open secret in the southern mountains of Lebak.

“This writer has strong reasons to believe that there was truth to the statements of the informants. He has seen burial jars that are purportedly from Sultan Kudarat but looks dubious, primarily because their designs stray too much from the typical features of burial jars as scholars noted. In Silahis Gallery, a souvenir shop inside Intramuros in Manila, one cover in the collection has a figure of a carabao head. In contrast, burial jars discovered in the San Carlos and Silliman explorations are mostly anthropomorphic. The scholars believe the figures indicate the sex of the deceased kept in the jar. Applying the theory, the carabao-shaped figure would indicate that the bones inside the jar are that of a carabao’s. This is preposterous, and the burial jar must have been made by an amateur counterfeiter.

“The jars that are on display inside the Tourism Office of the Municipality of Lebak might also be counterfeit because some of them have animal-like instead of anthropomorphic figures.

“Another possible indication of forgery is well-defined and intricate incisions, possible only with the use of modern tools. Authentic burial jars were carved out of blocks of limestones using crude implements, and because the jars have been left in natural surroundings for around 1,500 years, it is natural for their surfaces to have been weathered.

“Lastly, burial jars that are as small as a typical flower vase must be forgery, too. They are too small to contain human bones, even that of an infant’s.

“The existence of fake burial jars make it difficult for anyone to determine the authenticity of all the burial jars. Only the jars that have been recorded by anthropologists in 1960s and properly tracked can be safely declared authentic. On the other hand, the existence of fake burial jars could make black market buyers suspicious of burial jars claimed to be from Sultan Kudarat, and this could discourage trading of the artifacts.”

(In photo: Me with a collection of burial jars at the municipal hall of Lebak, Sultan Kudarat. Some of these jars may be fake. It’s now difficult to determine the authenticity of Kulaman Plateau burial jars because, I found out in a visit at the municipality, counterfeits were made in the aughties.)

The Story of Datu Wasay

I learned from a group of Dulangan Manobos that a chieftain named Wasay once lived in a big hut that his family shared with four other families. I'm talking about five separate families, not a man with five wives. Some of the five men in the house had more than one wives.

The house had no divisions inside, and the hearth was at the center. All the families cooked in the hearth. At night, everyone slept around it, with all their feet near the fire to protect themselves from the cold.

Being the head of five families living in one house means that Datu Wasay was wealthier than most datus in his tribe. He must have a huge track of land, for land was the primary source of income of most Dulangan Manobos. In fact, the village where his hut used to be has been named after him. Datu Wasay is currently a barangay of the municipality of Kalamansig.

The story of Datu Wasay, though, has a sad ending. He sold his property to a Christian man and moved to a more remote area. The price of the property? Seven pieces of pimpong (an explosive device used to kill feeding wild pigs) and one manoso (a bundle of dried tobacco leaves).

A Dulangan Manobo Saying

"I've been wet, so I might as well take a bath." I heard this from a Dulangan Manobo man. He has been through a difficult situation, and he has to face a lot more, and he's determined to fight until everything is over. The expression must be unique to the tribe. I haven't heard this in other languages. The closest to this that we Ilonggos have may be "Salomon ko na lang ni" or "I might as well dive into this."

I think the expression reveals so much about the people who use it. First, Dulangan Manobos have a strong sense of justice. When they feel dishonored, whether by their fellow Manobos or by people from other tribes, they seek reparation or even retribution. They can forgive and forget to a certain extent only. Second, they have a negative view of being wet and of taking a bath. As someone who grew up in the same mountains where they live, I can easily understand this attitude. Taking a bath can be such a chore in a cold climate. It can make you sick instead of making you feel refreshed. Being merely wet may also be a problem, especially for people whose only set of clothes are the ones they are wearing, as it had been for many Manobos until recently.

Kulaman Burial Jars in Laan Magazine

Another important thing that happened last year is that the burial jars of Kulaman Plateau was featured in the maiden issue of Laan, a regional travel and advertising magazine, and the article, of course, was written by this blogger.

The magazine generously gave my article a whole spread and half a page, and copies of the magazine were distributed in government agencies and business establishments, and tucked in the seats of the Executive Class units of Yellow Bus Line, a la Smile magazine of Cebu Pacific airline.

I wasn’t able to attend the launch, so I don’t have my own copy of Laan, and I don’t have my own photos of the article. But below are the cover page and the contributors’ page, which I grabbed from the Facebook account of the magazine. My special thanks to Louie Pacardo, the managing editor and a fellow blogger, for asking me to contribute.

Kulaman Burial Jars in Tau SOX Festival

I’m back, after almost a year of not touching this blog. (My “latest” posts, dated half a year ago, had been prescheduled.) I can’t promise to blog regularly again, but I will post important updates.

I’ve been preoccupied with a lot of other matters, especially literary activities. Other local writers and I, I’m proud to say, have done many things, most of which were firsts. We formed writers associations, albeit informal for now. We created Cotabato Literary Journal, a monthly online publication. And we organized several poetry readings and writing seminars. I was also diagnosed with a mental illness, and I’m still on medication up to now. (But don’t worry, I’ve gotten so much better.)

As to the updates I must share with you, let me start with Tau SOX: Festival of the First Peoples, organized last year by the regional office of the Department of Tourism. The one-week event aimed to highlight SOX (short for SOCCSKSARGEN) as a land where early men (tau) lived. The organizers invited me to give a talk on the limestone burial jars of Kulaman Plateau, in a forum that also included a talk on the clay burial jars of Maitum and a talk on the burial practices of Tedurays.

I wasn’t able to take good photos and extensive notes of the event, so if you want to know more about it, check out the news article on NDBC and the post by local blogger Hajar Kabalu. Truth be told, I had a very small audience, even if the venue was the activity center of a mall. It was past lunchtime when it was my turn to speak, and most attendees had gone somewhere else. Nonetheless, I believe the right people stayed and listened, and I’m glad for the opportunity to spread more awareness of Kulaman burial jars.