(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 30, 2013
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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:
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.
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, September 30, 2013
Iloilo: A Quest for Burial Jars (Part 2 of 2)
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.
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.
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 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.
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
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 Hiligaynon
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:
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
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.
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.
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.
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.
Monday, July 8, 2013
The Undiscovered Burial Jars (Part 1 of 2)
I thought all the burial jars of Kulaman Plateau had been taken away. To my surprise, when I visited a village at the plateau last summer, I found out that one cave there still contains limestone jars that are about 1,500 years old. That’s the good news. The bad news is that the jars have not been properly preserved.
No, I was not able to go inside the cave, but I was able to see a limestone jar within the premises of the village. I think you’ll understand the story better if I narrate it in chronological order.
I was with the family. We were in Barangay Kuden to see its getting-famous White Cave. In the barangay hall, while the elected chairman was proudly telling us how beautiful his village was, he suddenly said something like, “We also have burial jars here.” In an almost comical manner, our jaws dropped. My mother, my younger brother, and I stared at one another. The two both knew how interested I’d been with the artifacts; they were avid readers of this blog and they were proud of my article on the burial jars that was published in the Philippine Daily Inquirer.
“There,” Mr. Chairman added, pointing at the corner of the barangay hall. When I turned my head, I could not believe what I saw. On the floor was a tiny limestone burial jar, left standing near the wall like an everyday object. “A burial jar,” I said. “I’ve been looking for these.”
“We now keep that here inside,” Mr. Chairman said, sneering. “We used to display that outside the barangay hall, but a drunk once defecated on it and broke the cover.”
I was appalled, to say the least, but I said calmly, “Burial jars are valuable. They’re even more special than caves.” I stood up and looked at the jar closely. It was small, not higher than my knees. The edge of the cover had broken off, and the cover no longer fit snugly with the lid. When I peeped down, I saw some plastic materials inside the jar. I took off the cover. Sounding ashamed and amused, Mr. Chairman said, “Some kids here have been using it as a trash can.”
The burial jar was half-filled with wrappers of P1 junk foods. “These jars are very expensive,” I said. “Some of the jars here in Kulaman have been taken to America, and they’re now being sold in the Internet. The price of each one ranges from one hundred thousand to four hundred thousand pesos.” I was referring to the jars in the collection of the Ricky Gervais Museum, in San Francisco.
Mr. Chairman seemed surprised with the figures. “We have more jars,” he said.
(Drop by next Monday for the second part.)
No, I was not able to go inside the cave, but I was able to see a limestone jar within the premises of the village. I think you’ll understand the story better if I narrate it in chronological order.
I was with the family. We were in Barangay Kuden to see its getting-famous White Cave. In the barangay hall, while the elected chairman was proudly telling us how beautiful his village was, he suddenly said something like, “We also have burial jars here.” In an almost comical manner, our jaws dropped. My mother, my younger brother, and I stared at one another. The two both knew how interested I’d been with the artifacts; they were avid readers of this blog and they were proud of my article on the burial jars that was published in the Philippine Daily Inquirer.
“There,” Mr. Chairman added, pointing at the corner of the barangay hall. When I turned my head, I could not believe what I saw. On the floor was a tiny limestone burial jar, left standing near the wall like an everyday object. “A burial jar,” I said. “I’ve been looking for these.”
Yes, there are still burial jars left in Kulaman
Plateau. The one above is at the barangay hall
of Kuden, Senator Ninoy Aquino.
I was appalled, to say the least, but I said calmly, “Burial jars are valuable. They’re even more special than caves.” I stood up and looked at the jar closely. It was small, not higher than my knees. The edge of the cover had broken off, and the cover no longer fit snugly with the lid. When I peeped down, I saw some plastic materials inside the jar. I took off the cover. Sounding ashamed and amused, Mr. Chairman said, “Some kids here have been using it as a trash can.”
The burial jar was half-filled with wrappers of P1 junk foods. “These jars are very expensive,” I said. “Some of the jars here in Kulaman have been taken to America, and they’re now being sold in the Internet. The price of each one ranges from one hundred thousand to four hundred thousand pesos.” I was referring to the jars in the collection of the Ricky Gervais Museum, in San Francisco.
Mr. Chairman seemed surprised with the figures. “We have more jars,” he said.
(Drop by next Monday for the second part.)
A cousin of mine holds a burial jar in Barangay
Kuden. The size of the
jar indicates that it must have
been used to contain the bones of a baby.
Monday, July 1, 2013
Municipal Hall of Senator Ninoy Aquino
I have discussed several times in this blog the differences between the Municipality of Senator Ninoy Aquino, Barangay Kulaman, and Kulaman Plateau. So if you are wondering why the title of this post is not "Municipal Hall of Kulaman," I won't explain why here. Check instead "Kulaman in Brief," the page in this blog where I compared and contrasted the closely related and slightly confusing terms.
As the title says, this post is a feature on the municipal hall of my hometown. You must be wondering why it has taken me months to post photos of the structure. As we all know, when one is writing about or visiting a locality, one of the first few things one usually does is take a photo of the municipal hall or the city hall. I followed that unspoken tradition actually. I long have these photos (though it's my brother, not I, who took them during a fiesta). I just didn't post them because they looked quotidian.
However, the bust of Senator Ninoy Aquino in front of the building still looks creepy after editing. The sculpture, and the municipal hall, are testaments of my hometown's poverty. The local government cannot afford to commission a full-size statue of the hero. I'm not whining about that, though. I like inornate municipal halls and provincial capitols. In the Philippines, there seems to be a competition among local governments as to who could build the biggest and most ostentatious administrative building. I get uneasy with the idea that public officials and government employees "work" in a palace-like building when many people in their locality live in rundown homes.
Monday, June 24, 2013
The Hidden Treasure of Kulaman (Part 2 of 2)
(The first part of this post appeared on May 13, last month.)
Something was telling Santiago not to walk straight ahead into the darkness. He groped at the wall of the cave and treaded on the muddy slope. He climbed down for about thirty meters before his flashlight shone on even ground. He stared back at where he had come from, and was horrified at the sight of a steep cliff a dozen times his height. If he did not keep close to the wall, he would be digging his grave instead of gold. The cave was a fully enclosed cathedral. It did not have a huge doorway in front. The only opening it had was a small window on top of the bell tower.
He continued exploring the cave. In a short while, the beam of light from his flashlight hit something lightly colored. He examined it closely. It was an oddly shaped column that stood taller than he. It looked like a very tall coral, but its surface was smooth and as white as milk. It looked soft and even edible, but when Santiago touched it, his finger curled at the hardness of the stone. It felt much more compact than concrete.
Santiago wondered if he could sell the thing, if it would fetch as high as the price of gold. He thought right away, though, that cutting the oddly shaped column is much more difficult than digging a hole. He walked on—and found hundreds of similar stone formations, competing with one another in size and grandeur and strangeness. Santiago trembled in awe. God seemed to have coated the whole interior of the cave with thick, divine white paint. It was his secret playground. Santiago fell to his knees. At last, he found the treasure he had been looking for. It was not in the form of gold, and it was something he would not want to sell.
Now, eight years since, Santiago visits the cave regularly, taking along with him tourists, spelunkers, and speleologists. The tourists usually whine on the long and torturous trip. Santiago assists them with their needs and just smiles to himself. He witnesses such a situation often. He knows that when the visitors reach the cave, they will utter one pleasant interjection after another and say all the hardship is worth it. He receives a modest commission from the fee that visitors pay the local government. It's just enough to get by, but he's not complaining. He's happy. He's got something more precious than gold, something priceless. In the cave, people tell him they have not seen anything more beautiful.
Something was telling Santiago not to walk straight ahead into the darkness. He groped at the wall of the cave and treaded on the muddy slope. He climbed down for about thirty meters before his flashlight shone on even ground. He stared back at where he had come from, and was horrified at the sight of a steep cliff a dozen times his height. If he did not keep close to the wall, he would be digging his grave instead of gold. The cave was a fully enclosed cathedral. It did not have a huge doorway in front. The only opening it had was a small window on top of the bell tower.
He continued exploring the cave. In a short while, the beam of light from his flashlight hit something lightly colored. He examined it closely. It was an oddly shaped column that stood taller than he. It looked like a very tall coral, but its surface was smooth and as white as milk. It looked soft and even edible, but when Santiago touched it, his finger curled at the hardness of the stone. It felt much more compact than concrete.
Santiago wondered if he could sell the thing, if it would fetch as high as the price of gold. He thought right away, though, that cutting the oddly shaped column is much more difficult than digging a hole. He walked on—and found hundreds of similar stone formations, competing with one another in size and grandeur and strangeness. Santiago trembled in awe. God seemed to have coated the whole interior of the cave with thick, divine white paint. It was his secret playground. Santiago fell to his knees. At last, he found the treasure he had been looking for. It was not in the form of gold, and it was something he would not want to sell.
Now, eight years since, Santiago visits the cave regularly, taking along with him tourists, spelunkers, and speleologists. The tourists usually whine on the long and torturous trip. Santiago assists them with their needs and just smiles to himself. He witnesses such a situation often. He knows that when the visitors reach the cave, they will utter one pleasant interjection after another and say all the hardship is worth it. He receives a modest commission from the fee that visitors pay the local government. It's just enough to get by, but he's not complaining. He's happy. He's got something more precious than gold, something priceless. In the cave, people tell him they have not seen anything more beautiful.
Monday, June 10, 2013
Kulaman Burial Jars in Paris Exhibit
From Kulaman Plateau, the limestone burial jars have been taken to Cebu, Dumaguete, Manila, and San Francisco. Now the jars have also reached Europe, particularly the famous city of Paris.
The jars are included in an exhibit entitled "Philippines: Archipel des échanges (An Archipelago of Exchange)" in Quai Branly Museum. The exhibit opened on April 9 and runs until July 14, 2013.
I learned of the event through an article in the Philippine Daily Inquirer. When I found out that the items on display were pre-Hispanic artifacts from all over the country, I thought right away that burial jars from Kulaman must be part of the collection. Alas, there was no mention or photo of the jars in the article.
I searched for more online articles about the exhibit, and I found one at the website of the embassy of France in Manila and another in the Philippine Star. To my dismay, only the more famous objects are featured in these sites. I remained undaunted, though, and continued googling. Finally, I stumbled upon an article in a French website. I cannot understand most of the text, but I nearly leaped in delight upon seeing the photo at the bottom of the page.
Upon further googling, I found another wonderful write-up. This time, it's from the national TV station GMA. I'm glad to discover that the limestone burial jars, like the rice-god figures of Ifugao and Maranao brass musical instruments, are catching the eyes of some photographers.
Both photos from the French website and GMA indicate that the jars belong to the collection of the Ayala Museum. If you want to know more about the exhibit, you may check out the short and beautiful video the Quai Branly Museum posted in Youtube. The video, however, is in French and does not mention or show the Kulaman burial jars.
The jars are included in an exhibit entitled "Philippines: Archipel des échanges (An Archipelago of Exchange)" in Quai Branly Museum. The exhibit opened on April 9 and runs until July 14, 2013.
I learned of the event through an article in the Philippine Daily Inquirer. When I found out that the items on display were pre-Hispanic artifacts from all over the country, I thought right away that burial jars from Kulaman must be part of the collection. Alas, there was no mention or photo of the jars in the article.
I searched for more online articles about the exhibit, and I found one at the website of the embassy of France in Manila and another in the Philippine Star. To my dismay, only the more famous objects are featured in these sites. I remained undaunted, though, and continued googling. Finally, I stumbled upon an article in a French website. I cannot understand most of the text, but I nearly leaped in delight upon seeing the photo at the bottom of the page.
 |
| A screenshot of a French website |
Upon further googling, I found another wonderful write-up. This time, it's from the national TV station GMA. I'm glad to discover that the limestone burial jars, like the rice-god figures of Ifugao and Maranao brass musical instruments, are catching the eyes of some photographers.
Both photos from the French website and GMA indicate that the jars belong to the collection of the Ayala Museum. If you want to know more about the exhibit, you may check out the short and beautiful video the Quai Branly Museum posted in Youtube. The video, however, is in French and does not mention or show the Kulaman burial jars.
 |
| Cropped screenshot from GMA Network |
Saturday, May 18, 2013
May Updates
I made a little change in the description of this blog. It now reads, "A Guide to Kulaman Plateau and Its Manobo People, Lost Burial Jars, and Hundred Caves." Before, it was "A Research Guide to Kulaman, Its Manobo People, and the Lost Burial Jars." I dropped the word research because, lately, I've been posting more travel write-ups than academic texts, and I added the phrase about caves because I realized that Kulaman means caves mean Kulaman. The natural wonders are probably what's going to put the plateau in the Philippine tourism map. As I've said before, this blog will never stop evolving.
With the changes mentioned above, I felt that the page "About This Blog" had become unnecessary, so I deleted it. For nostalgic and record-keeping reasons, I'm keeping here a copy of its short content:
Starting this month, I'm including original fiction in this blog. The first such story is "Gods of Yore." It's composed of more than four thousand words, so I decided to divide it in three parts. The installments will run on May 20, May 27, and June 3. So Portal to the Plateau can also be categorized now as a literary blog.
Meanwhile, I'm not sure how to classify my May 13 post, "The Hidden Treasure of Kulaman." The main character, Charito Santiago, is an actual person, and he only told me the barest of facts about the events narrated in the article. I just made up the rest. I guess I can call it semifiction. I want to post the second part next week, but recently I can't find enough time to write. I've been employed again, and I'm on adjustment period. By June, hopefully, I will be able to continue writing and finally reveal to you what really the hidden treasure is.
Thank you, friends and readers! My stats shows Portal to the Plateau has been visited for more than 1,900 times. I think it's not a bad performance, considering that, aside from occasionally posting on my Facebook timeline, I don't promote this blog. Don't get me wrong. I don't practice SEO and stuff not because I don't know how to but because I want to keep this blog low-profile. All I want is for this blog to serve a special, specific community.
With the changes mentioned above, I felt that the page "About This Blog" had become unnecessary, so I deleted it. For nostalgic and record-keeping reasons, I'm keeping here a copy of its short content:
If you are conducting a research on the Manobo people of the Cotabato Region, this is probably the best place to start. This not-for-profit site provides links to available resources online, downloadable documents gathered by the author (none yet), and some original write-ups. Feel free to use materials and data provided in this blog, but kindly observe proper citation of sources. Furthermore, check with the original source for copyright concerns. For your comments and corrections, or if you want to contribute relevant information, contact rj2ortega@gmail.com.Furthermore, "News" is now "Kulaman in the News," and "Bibliography" is now "Webliography." The latter, though, still has five items only, and the latest title is dated 2002. Sultan Kudarat State University has quite a number of theses on the Dulangan Manobo, conducted just for the past few years, but copies are not available online.
Starting this month, I'm including original fiction in this blog. The first such story is "Gods of Yore." It's composed of more than four thousand words, so I decided to divide it in three parts. The installments will run on May 20, May 27, and June 3. So Portal to the Plateau can also be categorized now as a literary blog.
Meanwhile, I'm not sure how to classify my May 13 post, "The Hidden Treasure of Kulaman." The main character, Charito Santiago, is an actual person, and he only told me the barest of facts about the events narrated in the article. I just made up the rest. I guess I can call it semifiction. I want to post the second part next week, but recently I can't find enough time to write. I've been employed again, and I'm on adjustment period. By June, hopefully, I will be able to continue writing and finally reveal to you what really the hidden treasure is.
Thank you, friends and readers! My stats shows Portal to the Plateau has been visited for more than 1,900 times. I think it's not a bad performance, considering that, aside from occasionally posting on my Facebook timeline, I don't promote this blog. Don't get me wrong. I don't practice SEO and stuff not because I don't know how to but because I want to keep this blog low-profile. All I want is for this blog to serve a special, specific community.
Monday, May 13, 2013
The Hidden Treasure of Kulaman (Part 1 of 2)
Charito Santiago had spent all his life looking for hidden treasures left by fleeing Japanese soldiers in World War II. With fellow prospectors and wanderers, he had dug many a hole around Kulaman (official name: Senator Ninoy Aquino), a town in Sultan Kudarat situated some 800 meters above sea level. He didn’t know that the Japanese could not have set foot in his hometown. The invaders had occupied major cities and towns, such as Davao and Koronadal, and Kulaman in 1940s was a dense jungle populated only by loosely organized Manobo people.
Santiago had become a senior citizen—his missing teeth had made him look as though he was sucking in his cheeks; his bronze skin had turned gray, like fresh-from-the-sack cement—and the hidden Japanese treasure still remained hidden from him. His family was only able to make both ends meet because he farmed and did some odd jobs when not digging holes. In 2005, with a string of failures behind him and the clock ticking, Santiago had almost given up his dream of finding the elusive treasure, when a Manobo friend of his told him of something that brought vigor to his veins. He felt as though he was young again, and endless possibilities—bottomless wealth!—were waiting for him. Kampo Dapat, a tribal chieftain, told Santiago that he had discovered a “tunnel.”
Like his Ilocano friend Santiago, Datu Dapat was nearing the end of his life. He was younger than Santiago, but he would die much sooner, as Manobo people had shorter life-spans and were more susceptible to diseases than the Christian settlers, who started flocking to Kulaman in search of fertile soil in 1970s.
The tunnel was near the top of a mountain, about 900 meters above sea level, and the mountain was not distinct from the other peaks around it—filled with towering trees and weeds that were taller than human beings. At first what Dapat saw was a mere groove on a wall of rock and not a tunnel. He did not even notice the opening until a bird flew past him and disappeared into it. The hole was large enough for a puny man like Dapat to crawl in, but he did not dare venture in. He had a suspicion that the tunnel would lead him into a lair of pythons, but much more than the huge snakes, he was afraid of a busaw, or evil spirit, that might be inhabiting in the hole.
No python or busaw could get in Santiago’s way to his last chance at finding a chest filled with gold bars or a gilded statue of Buddha. Armed with a spade and four flashlights, he inched his way through the tunnel. The spade was almost useless. He could barely budge, and he had to crawl like a python. His hand pushed and scooped aside the sticky mud as he moved forward. He could barely breathe, and he could not tell if it was because of excitement of being so close to a treasure or because of decreased amount of oxygen in the air.
About seven meters from the entrance, as Santiago was about to lose his breath, he felt cold air caress his face. He had reached the end of the tunnel. But instead of bumping into a metallic chest inscribed with Japanese characters, he was ushered into an immense space. He pointed his flashlight straight ahead, and the ray of light dispersed in the darkness. Something screeched, and the sound brought disappointment instead of fear in Santiago’s heart. He instantly recognized the sound as that of a bat—just a bat. It meant he had discovered a cave—just a cave, not necessarily a hideaway for stolen treasures.
As Santiago stood up and stared at the nothingness in front of him, he wondered if all his efforts were worth it. The cave was in Siokong, a sitio, or hamlet, of Barangay Kuden. Though Santiago was living in the same village, Siokong was quite far from his home at the center of the village. From the barangay hall, he had traveled by motorcycle on rough road for nearly two hours to reach Datu Dapat’s home in Sitio Siokong. Datu Dapat and he then climbed the mountain on foot for about forty minutes. He wondered if he should continue exploring the cave or if he should go out to the mouth, where Datu Dapat waited for him.
Cave exploration did not excite Santiago much. Kulaman, a plateau with Karstic topography, had more than a hundred caves scattered all over—or under—it, each boasting of its own magnificence. While he could appreciate the beauty of nature, leisure was not Santiago’s priority. He wanted to spend the years left in him searching furiously for the gold that could be measured in karats, not like someone on pension basking at the sight of golden grains at the tip of stalactites that no pawnshop would accept.
Despite the failure that just hit him, Santiago’s spirit had not been dampened enough to make him abandon the quest. He had the indomitable spirit of a treasure hunter. After all, though the tunnel did not lead to the chest of gold, the chest might be buried somewhere inside the cave. He plodded along.
(The second part will be posted next month.)
Santiago had become a senior citizen—his missing teeth had made him look as though he was sucking in his cheeks; his bronze skin had turned gray, like fresh-from-the-sack cement—and the hidden Japanese treasure still remained hidden from him. His family was only able to make both ends meet because he farmed and did some odd jobs when not digging holes. In 2005, with a string of failures behind him and the clock ticking, Santiago had almost given up his dream of finding the elusive treasure, when a Manobo friend of his told him of something that brought vigor to his veins. He felt as though he was young again, and endless possibilities—bottomless wealth!—were waiting for him. Kampo Dapat, a tribal chieftain, told Santiago that he had discovered a “tunnel.”
Like his Ilocano friend Santiago, Datu Dapat was nearing the end of his life. He was younger than Santiago, but he would die much sooner, as Manobo people had shorter life-spans and were more susceptible to diseases than the Christian settlers, who started flocking to Kulaman in search of fertile soil in 1970s.
The tunnel was near the top of a mountain, about 900 meters above sea level, and the mountain was not distinct from the other peaks around it—filled with towering trees and weeds that were taller than human beings. At first what Dapat saw was a mere groove on a wall of rock and not a tunnel. He did not even notice the opening until a bird flew past him and disappeared into it. The hole was large enough for a puny man like Dapat to crawl in, but he did not dare venture in. He had a suspicion that the tunnel would lead him into a lair of pythons, but much more than the huge snakes, he was afraid of a busaw, or evil spirit, that might be inhabiting in the hole.
No python or busaw could get in Santiago’s way to his last chance at finding a chest filled with gold bars or a gilded statue of Buddha. Armed with a spade and four flashlights, he inched his way through the tunnel. The spade was almost useless. He could barely budge, and he had to crawl like a python. His hand pushed and scooped aside the sticky mud as he moved forward. He could barely breathe, and he could not tell if it was because of excitement of being so close to a treasure or because of decreased amount of oxygen in the air.
About seven meters from the entrance, as Santiago was about to lose his breath, he felt cold air caress his face. He had reached the end of the tunnel. But instead of bumping into a metallic chest inscribed with Japanese characters, he was ushered into an immense space. He pointed his flashlight straight ahead, and the ray of light dispersed in the darkness. Something screeched, and the sound brought disappointment instead of fear in Santiago’s heart. He instantly recognized the sound as that of a bat—just a bat. It meant he had discovered a cave—just a cave, not necessarily a hideaway for stolen treasures.
As Santiago stood up and stared at the nothingness in front of him, he wondered if all his efforts were worth it. The cave was in Siokong, a sitio, or hamlet, of Barangay Kuden. Though Santiago was living in the same village, Siokong was quite far from his home at the center of the village. From the barangay hall, he had traveled by motorcycle on rough road for nearly two hours to reach Datu Dapat’s home in Sitio Siokong. Datu Dapat and he then climbed the mountain on foot for about forty minutes. He wondered if he should continue exploring the cave or if he should go out to the mouth, where Datu Dapat waited for him.
Cave exploration did not excite Santiago much. Kulaman, a plateau with Karstic topography, had more than a hundred caves scattered all over—or under—it, each boasting of its own magnificence. While he could appreciate the beauty of nature, leisure was not Santiago’s priority. He wanted to spend the years left in him searching furiously for the gold that could be measured in karats, not like someone on pension basking at the sight of golden grains at the tip of stalactites that no pawnshop would accept.
Despite the failure that just hit him, Santiago’s spirit had not been dampened enough to make him abandon the quest. He had the indomitable spirit of a treasure hunter. After all, though the tunnel did not lead to the chest of gold, the chest might be buried somewhere inside the cave. He plodded along.
(The second part will be posted next month.)
Monday, May 6, 2013
Five YouTube Videos on Kulaman
I'm back in Cebu, but rest assured that I will maintain this blog. I'll continue posting here at least one write-up per week. For the first week of May, I'm featuring five videos I created recently. They're all about Kulaman Plateau, and they're uploaded on Youtube.
They're the very first videos I've ever created. I wanted to expand a little the reach of this blog, so I decided to capture some scenes in a digital camera, download Windows Movie Maker, and create a Youtube account. The product was five very short videos, each running for just one minute or less. Two of them are merely slideshows of related photos.
The first video shows a raft taking a motorcycle across the Kulaman River. People traveling from the east usually ride the bamboo raft instead of crossing the concrete bridge to save some mileage. The bridge is a few kilometers away, while the part of the river featured in the video is a shortcut. It leads travelers directly to the public market. The fee is P5 for every motorcycle regardless of the number of people riding it. For those who are not riding a motorcycle, the fee is P2 per person.
In the video, you can hear my brother's and my mother's voices. My brother is bantering with the three teenage boys in the raft, his schoolmates. My mother, in Karay-a and at the top of her lungs, is greeting the "driver" of the raft, Tiyoy Tony, a relative of ours. The two nearly naked boys are either sons or grandsons of Tiyoy Tony. The passengers of the raft are on their way to the poblacion, while my companions and I were leaving the place.
The second video was taken at the top of Ilyan Hill, in Barangay Buenaflores. I went up there with my brother (singing off-key) and his classmate (in red jacket) last month. From the peak, we could see at least five barangays. The course of Kulaman River was also a sight to behold. The water winded through the mountains and flattened the earth on both its sides. The snakelike plain the river formed had become a fertile ground for rice paddies.
The next video shows how corn is ground the traditional way. My companions and I were on our way to the White Cave of Kuden when the video was taken. We were resting in a house in Sitio Siokong when I saw the crude yet intricate machine. I asked how it was used, and my two cousins and my mother, all public high school teachers and aspiring Youtube sensations, demonstrated for me.
The last two videos are each a compilation of related photos. One is on the Kulaman limestone burial jars at a museum in Cebu, and the other is on the White Cave of Kuden, also known as Lagbasan Cave. I've featured the jars in this blog quite a number of times, while the White Cave will be a subject of my future posts.
Enjoy the videos. I know they're never going to be phenomenal, but I'm sure they will be helpful to those who want to know more about Kulaman.
They're the very first videos I've ever created. I wanted to expand a little the reach of this blog, so I decided to capture some scenes in a digital camera, download Windows Movie Maker, and create a Youtube account. The product was five very short videos, each running for just one minute or less. Two of them are merely slideshows of related photos.
The first video shows a raft taking a motorcycle across the Kulaman River. People traveling from the east usually ride the bamboo raft instead of crossing the concrete bridge to save some mileage. The bridge is a few kilometers away, while the part of the river featured in the video is a shortcut. It leads travelers directly to the public market. The fee is P5 for every motorcycle regardless of the number of people riding it. For those who are not riding a motorcycle, the fee is P2 per person.
In the video, you can hear my brother's and my mother's voices. My brother is bantering with the three teenage boys in the raft, his schoolmates. My mother, in Karay-a and at the top of her lungs, is greeting the "driver" of the raft, Tiyoy Tony, a relative of ours. The two nearly naked boys are either sons or grandsons of Tiyoy Tony. The passengers of the raft are on their way to the poblacion, while my companions and I were leaving the place.
The second video was taken at the top of Ilyan Hill, in Barangay Buenaflores. I went up there with my brother (singing off-key) and his classmate (in red jacket) last month. From the peak, we could see at least five barangays. The course of Kulaman River was also a sight to behold. The water winded through the mountains and flattened the earth on both its sides. The snakelike plain the river formed had become a fertile ground for rice paddies.
The next video shows how corn is ground the traditional way. My companions and I were on our way to the White Cave of Kuden when the video was taken. We were resting in a house in Sitio Siokong when I saw the crude yet intricate machine. I asked how it was used, and my two cousins and my mother, all public high school teachers and aspiring Youtube sensations, demonstrated for me.
The last two videos are each a compilation of related photos. One is on the Kulaman limestone burial jars at a museum in Cebu, and the other is on the White Cave of Kuden, also known as Lagbasan Cave. I've featured the jars in this blog quite a number of times, while the White Cave will be a subject of my future posts.
Enjoy the videos. I know they're never going to be phenomenal, but I'm sure they will be helpful to those who want to know more about Kulaman.
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