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.

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.

The Undiscovered Burial Jars (Part 2 of 2)

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

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

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

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

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

A cover of a burial jar lying near the footpath to the White Cave.

It must have been taken from a cave several years ago,

perhaps to be sold, but for some reason, the transaction fell through.

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

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

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

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.”

Yes, there are still burial jars left in Kulaman

Plateau. The one above is at the barangay hall

of Kuden, Senator Ninoy Aquino.

“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.)

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.

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.

It didn't help that our municipal hall has no artistic value whatsoever. It's as plain as you can get. It has only one floor level and can be easily mistaken for a public primary school. A few days ago, however, I discovered Pixlr, a photo editing site online that can make photos look vintage. I decided to try it on the earlier-mentioned quotidian photos, and to my delight, after editing, the images no longer looked as bad as they had been. Thus, here they are.

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.