Yum, It’s Marang Season!

Marang’s white flesh is so soft, it melts in your mouth. The seeds

inside the flesh can also be boiled and taste like peanut.

If you don’t like durian because of its smell, marang is the best alternative for you. Like durian, marang thrives well in the fertile soil and temperate climate of Mindanao. Unlike durian, however, marang smells sweet and is easy to open. You only have to pry apart the skin with your fingers.

Marang has the same size and shape as durian, but instead of having hard thorns, marang has hard brown bristles at the surface of its thick skin. The bristles are coarse but won’t hurt you. In fact, to determine if a marang is already ripe, you should push its skin. If the skin recedes, the fruit is ready to be eaten, even if it doesn’t smell yet. Inside, a marang looks like a tiny jackfruit. Only, the flesh that covers each seed is white and much softer. It melts in your mouth.

As far as I know, marang is not available in malls, especially outside Mindanao. That’s because mass production of marang is difficult. Once it has ripen, the fruit will perish in a day or two. Also, it easily gets bruised when transported.

The tree occupies a large space; it normally grows larger than the jackfruit tree. If you fill your farm with marang trees, your yield will probably be not commensurate to the land area that the trees occupy. Thus marang normally is grown just individually or in a small cluster in yards or farms. To enjoy the fruit, you have to come here in Mindanao and visit the home or farm of a friend or relative.

Fruit from our own yard. Marang’s skin is commonly brown, but the variety

that tastes the best for me is the one that stays green even when ripe.

The marang tree can grow as high as forty feet,

but its branches break easily. It starts to bear fruit

when it’s six or seven years old.

Story: At the Faucet

Characters:
Ibyang—a forty-year-old storeowner
Milet—a beautiful woman in her late twenties

At a public faucet shared by several households, the two women are washing clothes without talking to each other. Milet is taking her time and hums a Tagalog love song in Hiligaynon accent. Ibyang is washing her laundry fast, glancing often at Milet and Milet’s laundry. The two women finish soaping their respective laundries, and both reach out for the faucet at the same time to rinse the clothes. They freeze.

Ibyang: Please, Milet, let me do it first. I’m really in a hurry. I’ve still got to open my store.

Milet: But you’ve got more laundry, Ibyang, and I also have something else to do.

Ibyang: I’ll work fast.

Milet: I have fewer clothes to rinse, so it won’t take much time.

Ibyang: No, I assure you. You know me, I work really fast. Next time you know, I’m done. It’s for you too, Milet. I know you want to have time doing things. If you wash your laundry first and I wait, you’ll be pressured to finish it right away.

Milet: It’s all right, Ibyang. I don’t mind working fast. I’ve got something to do, too. I still have to cook lunch, and prepare formula for my youngest.

Ibyang: You’re husband does those things. I mean, your husband can do those things for you.

Milet: My husband helps out, but I do those things. My youngest wants no one but me to feed her. And Nang Ibyang, your husband can also open the store for you.

Ibyang: He can’t. He’s tired from working at the municipal hall from Monday to Friday. He only gets to rest now that today is Saturday.

Milet: But I arrived here first, Nang Ibyang. You should let me finish washing first.

Ibyang: So you’re talking about rights and order now. Well, let me tell you, Milet. I should have top priority in using the faucet since I always pay on time the twenty-peso monthly bill.
Milet: I also pay the water bill.

Ibyang: Oh you do? I know everything, Milet. I’m the collector for this faucet. When was the last time you paid? Three, four months ago?

Milet: That’s too much. I missed paying just for the last two months. And that does not really have something to do on who gets to use the faucet first. I arrived here earlier than you did.

Ibyang: No, Milet. The payment has everything to do with who gets to use first—or who gets to use—the faucet. You’ve been delayed from paying for months, and I paid for you, just so that the barangay wouldn’t cut off our line. If we are all to be really strict, you no longer have the right to use the faucet. I should be using your share.

Milet: That’s not fair. The twenty pesos is just a maintenance fee. The water system is from the government. The water is for everyone. Don’t you worry, I’ll pay you what I owe you.

Ibyang: [Shows her open hand to Milet] Really? Then give it to me now. And while you’re at it, pay me everything that you owe my store. Your list is quite long. It amounts now to three or four hundred.

Milet: [Pauses for a while] All right, I’ll pay you everything and will never get any credit from you.

Ibyang: My hand is waiting.

Milet: I’ll pay you later. I left my purse at home. Now let me finish my laundry.

Ibyang: [Blocks Milet] Hey, hey. We’re not talking about purses here. We’re talking about money. Sure you’ve got a purse at home, but does it contain—

Milet: I’ve got a purse, and it’s got money inside. My husband’s got work, you know.

Ibyang: Work? What kind of work? His working as a laborer at the corn mill? It’s not harvest season yet, and your husband has been holed up in your hut for weeks now.

Milet: Why do you know so much about us? Why are you sneaking on us?
Ibyang: I am not sneaking on you. How dare you accuse me of such a thing. I’m just waiting when you will pay your debts to me. Now you’re really getting into my nerves. Why don’t we have everything settled now? Let’s go to your house and get your money together.
Milet: [Snifling] Why are you like this to me? What have I done to you?

Ibyang: Now don’t you put on that act with me. You won’t convince me. That’s what you’ve been doing to my husband. Don’t you think I don’t notice it? You wait until he’s the only there inside the store and then you put on your act and ask for credit from him.

Thank you for reading up to this point. I have completed this mini play, which I wrote for a playwriting class at Silliman sometime in November last year, but my typewritten copy ends here, and I can’t find the handwritten ending. Here’s how the story concludes, anyway: The two women continues to argue, exchanging six or seven lines more for each, until the argument turns into a catfight. They are either separated by other people or they get tired. Someone turns on the faucet, and the women find out that there’s no water, as what happens often in the village.

This scene was a simple homework, an exercise on how to use stock characters (dumb blondes, potbellied policemen, terror professors, and the like). I must have missed the instructions—it was the first day of class—because my output doesn’t have a stock character, except maybe if you stretch the palengkera or wet-market woman to include any quarrelsome woman, such as Ibyang and Milet.

The scene is inspired, of course, by ordinary village life. Such a conflict happens sometimes between neighbors, although rarely as melodramatic. In many rural areas, Kulaman Plateau included, the community water system is not yet metered per household, and a number of families has to share one water source. It’s a sure recipe for micro disaster, but having a common faucet is much better than fetching water from a well, which I will write about in my next post.

Photos of the Plateau

Tagbak grows naturally in the forests of Kulaman, but this one is planted

inside the campus of Langgal National High School

I have pretensions that this blog is different from those garbage dumps out there that feature tourist spots through repetitive photos and write-ups that skim only the surface and peppered with grammatical errors. Now it looks like I have to jump into the bandwagon. Being back here in Kulaman Plateau, I’ve been taking so many photos of nature that they’re starting to clog up my computer memory. To decongest my drives, I’m posting some of the photos in this blog.

No, I’m not turning this site into a photo blog. My photos are obviously taken by an amateur, mostly in Auto mode of my lowly yet handy Canon PowerShot A2500. (Its shots are blurry in artificial light, but for landscapes and objects in natural light, I’m satisfied with the camera’s performance.) My photo posts won’t replace my regular Monday posts; the photo posts will appear in the next few months every Friday, starting today. I’ll still try to come up with text to go along with the photos, but the text will be noticeably shorter than in my regular posts, and count my captions to have ample (even extra) information.

For this photo post, I’m featuring the plant that is locally known as tagbak. I personally find the plant enchanting even when I was still a kid. It’s the fierce, not frail, kind of beautiful. It does not ask to be tended to in a dainty pot. As a flower of the jungle, it firmly buries its roots into the ground and, with green rodlike stalks, props its large leaves and heart-shaped flowers, forming a natural throne for itself, a queen demanding to be worshipped.

I must admit that the photos in this post have been enhanced using the freeware PhotoScape. The tagbak flower in my photos is paler than it appears in person, and I had time in my hands, so I tinkered with the images. Rest assured, though, that unless stated otherwise, the photos of this blog are not digitally altered. As much as possible, I want you to see Kulaman Plateau as what it really is.

I won’t slow down your computer by dumping here all the photos I could. For every photo post, I will upload five photos only at most. Also, I’ll make sure that each photo is unique, not a photo of the same subject taken at a different angle. Wait. That’s a tall order. Let me change that: If I have to feature the same subject, I’ll use up to two photos only. Lastly, though my posts for this blog are usually written in a hurry, I’ll try to check and recheck my grammar always. Visit this site next week for the second Photo Friday.

At the tip, a stalk may have a cluster of fruit instead of a flower.

The fruit is filled with sour white seeds inside.

Tall stalks of leaves normally cradle the flowers of a tagbak plant.

Unfinished Businesses in the Visayas

The charming Rizal Boulevard of Dumaguete, where I stayed for seven months

Before coming back here in Sultan Kudarat Province, I spent 14 straight months in the Visayas, about half of which was in the big bustling city of Cebu and the other half in the charming little city of Dumaguete. With such a length of time in those places, you’d think I was able to do there everything that I wanted to that was related to the Kulaman burial jars. No, I wasn’t able to. Though I had gathered plenty of materials for this blog, I failed to accomplish a few very important personal missions.

First on the list is conducting research at the Silliman University Library. The library surely has copies of the Silliman Journal, in which Edward B. Kurjack and Craig T. Sheldon published papers on their excavation of limestone burial jars in the village of Salangsang, Lebak town. The excavation took place in 1967 and 1968, and the papers were published in the journal in 1970 and 1971. Here are the complete publication details:

“The archaeology of Seminoho Cave in Lebak, Cotabato.” E. Kurjack, C. Sheldon. Silliman Journal. Volume 17, Issue No. 17. 1970

“The urn burial caves of Southern Cotabato, Mindanao, Philippines.” E. Kurjack, C. Sheldon, M. Keller. Silliman Journal. Volume 18, Issue No. 18. 1971

I had access to Silliman’s library, of course. I drifted to Dumaguete primarily to be a graduate teaching fellow at the university. I was a full-time graduate student and a part-time lecturer, in a manner of speaking. I did not, however, go to the library to research for the classes I was attending or teaching. I relied mostly on online resources, courtesy of the Wi-Fi of the place I was staying in. Plus I had no time to while away the hours inside the library. I was also working as a home-based technical editor for a company in Cebu, and drinking almost every week with my newfound friends, mostly young aspiring poets and fictionists.

In Cebu, I failed to visit the Southwestern University Museum, which also has limestone burial jars in its collection. Though the official website of the school does not contain a page about the museum, a Cebu travel site comprehensively features it, and it is indicated there that the “limestone jar[s]” are from “Sultan Kudarat.”

For three weeks last May, when the regular semester was over, I went back to Cebu form Dumaguete to work full-time again. I’d been making plans to visit Southwestern University—the trip by taxi and the museum tour would not take more than two hours of my time—but the plan was never pushed through. I often felt stressed, and whatever time I didn’t spend working I had to spend sleeping (and Facebooking, I admit).

Again, though, I was able to do a lot, both for this blog and other matters, so I won’t spoil the whole experience by griping about the few kinks. Besides, I believe I will be able to accomplish those self-imposed missions in the future. Cebu and Dumaguete are places I can never say goodbye to with finality. I will go there again and learn more about the Kulaman burial jars.

Justice for Rico Bibanco

(Blogger’s note: Below is a part of a letter dated April 7, 2014, addressed to the provincial prosecutor of the province of Sultan Kudarat. As stated on page 1 of the letter, it is “the result of investigation conducted by Agent GENNADY A. CHIONG of the NBI-Central Mindanao Regional Office, Koronadal City, South Cotabato.” Not included are the contents of pages 1 and 2, which enumerates the names of police officers “recommended for prosecution.” Included are the contents of pages 3 and 4, retyped as they exactly appear in the printed form. In the interest of full disclosure, the victim named in the letter is my second cousin.)

The true cause of death according to the autopsy report

CRIME

Murder, defined and penalized under Article 248 of the Revised Penal Code, as amended.

TIME AND PLACE OF THE COMMISSION OF THE CRIME:

October 30, 2013 inside the municipal police station of Senator Ninoy Aquino, Sultan Kudarat Province;

HOW COMMITTED:

On October 30, 2013 at about 4:00 o’clock in the afternoon victim RICO BIBANCO was arrested and conducted to the municipal police station by a team of policemen led by SPO1 Nicolas Celeste, patrol team leader. The victim was reportedly creating trouble in the poblacion and even resisted arrest. He was under the influence of intoxicating liquor.

At the police station, while his case was being processed by the desk officer, the victim went berserk and assaulted the complainant, ANTONIO MORALES, and attempted to choke him. He was subdued by the policemen and placed inside the lock-up cell. A few minutes later, the victim was found dead.

The policemen alleged that after the victim was placed inside the lock up cell he kept banging his head against the iron grills of his cell. They told him to stop and a few minutes later they heard silence and when they went to check on their prisoner they discovered him hanging on the wall with one end of his shirt anchored against the ventilation grill of his cell and the other end tied around his neck. They then photograph [sic] the victim while still hanging on the wall with his shirt around his neck.

But the evidence gathered by Dr. Ricardo Rodaje, NBI Medico Legal Officer, who conducted the autopsy on the cadaver of the victim tells a different story. Based on the injuries found on the victim’s cadaver Dr. Rodaje theorized that the victim was first struck on the head several times with a blunt object causing him to suffer TRAUMATIC HEAD INJURIES and when he fell unconscious they hanged him using a rope or cord with width ranging from 0.5 cm. to 1.4 cm. and to make it appear that he committed suicide they replaced the cord or rope with his shirt. The victim was still alive when he was hanged, thus the cause of his death is: ASPHYXIA BY HANGING; TRAUMATIC HEAD INJURIES.

In the absence of direct testimony we resorted to circumstantial evidence to determine the author of the crime and their motive in killing the victim.

Circumstantial evidence points to the policemen on duty in the police station, at the time of the incident, as the perpetrator of the crime because the victim was under their custody and detained in the police lock-up cell, and they are the only ones who have access to his cell.

But what drove the policemen to kill the victim?

It can be inferred from the evidence gathered (Police Blotter and Spot Report) that the victim was under the influence of intoxicating liquor and even resisted arrest when he was apprehended by the police team led by SPO1 Nicolas Celeste while causing trouble in the Poblacion. He destroyed the personal property of complainant ANTONIO MORALES and when he was already at the police station he disregarded the presence of the policemen and went berserk and assaulted the complainant right infront of the desk officer. He was subdued and brought inside the lock up cell.

His actions infuriated the policemen that they started beating him by hitting him on the head with a blunt object, he tried to parry the attack causing him to sustain hematoma on his left wrist. His attackers were so strong they held him tightly to prevent him from employing any defense, his attacker’s tight grip caused their finger tips to leave a deep mark (hematoma) on his arms.

Thinking that he was already dead they hanged him using a rope and to make it appear that he committed suicide they replaced the rope with the victim’s shirt.. [sic]

The deep marks (hematoma) found on the victim’s arm indicate that one person was holding him while another was hitting him on the head after he fell unconscious they carried his body and hanged it. This act could not be accomplished without the accent [sic] of all the policemen present.

The policemen above-mentioned were on duty at the time of the incident. they [sic] were issued subpoenae duces tecum to explain their side of the controversy to exclude those who were not present at the time of the incident but they all opted not to submit their counter affidavits until the case is filed in the prosecutor’s office, hence all those listed in the duty detail are recommended for prosecution.

In support of our recommendation are the following eveidences, [sic] to wit:

A – Case Assignment Sheet
B – Sworn Complaint Sheet of Virgilio Bibanco
C – Request for investigation
D – SS of Virgilio S. Bibangco [sic]
E – SS of Erna Capulso
F – Death Certificate
G – Autopsy Report No. SARDO No. 2013-11
H – Memorandum of Atty. Angelito Magno for Sr. Supt. Rex Dela Rosa
I – Letter to Chief of Police of SNA, SK
J – Memorandum of OIC, SNA Police Office, SK for Acting Director NBI

A Father’s Plea

(Blogger’s note: What follows is the content of a letter dated June 25, 2014, addressed to Atty. Leila De Lima, secretary of the Department of Justice. In the interest of full disclosure, the victim named in the letter is my second cousin. His mother and my father are first cousins. I had no part in the creation of this letter, and I retyped the text as it exactly appears in the printed form.)

Dear Madame:

I am writing this letter with the hope that I will be accorded with ultimate justice to the death of my son RICO L. BIBANCO, who suffered torture acts and was summarily executed in his cell after being arrested by a team of policemen from the Municipality of Senator Ninoy Aquino, Province of Sultan Kudarat last October 30, 2013. The incident was investigated by NBI authorities of Region XII based in Koronadal City and has submitted their corresponding findings with conclusion that the victim has been intentionally killed based on autopsy report by the NBI who examined and conducted laboratory test to the dead body of the victim.

The case was already filed in the prosecutor’s office of the Province of Sultan Kudarat and there was no immediate action because all of the suspects who are active policemen presently stationed in the Municipality of Senator Ninoy Aquino, Province of Sultan Kudarat are using delaying tactics to the case and there could be a hidden negotiation for them not to be charged in court.

It is amazing to think that until now the filing of corresponding charges or cases against those involved policemen have not yet been made by the court who has jurisdiction to it and we are now absolutely losing our hope considering the long period of time when the incident happened last year.

In view of the foregoing premise, may I respectfully request for legal assistance from your good office to investigate the case and to charge those involved policemen for the interest of social justice.

Moreover, please allow me to say that I have spent a lot of money and using a lot of efforts believing that I can get a fair justice from the government but there seems to be a lapses [sic] on the part of the court by not speeding the filling [sic] of the case against those involved policemen.

Enclosed herewith are pertinent documents relative to the case.

Praying your favorable action on the matter.

Truly yours,

VIRGELIO S. BIBANCO
Father of the victim

 The lower half of the letter, with the sender’s signature

Treasure Hunting Activities

When I was still in college, I wrote about treasure hunting practices and beliefs, and the piece appeared in the Young Blood column of the Philippine Daily Inquirer. More than eight years since, I found out that some people here in Kulaman Plateau are still as crazy about finding the purportedly lost treasures of General Yamashita. One expedition even has a backhoe at its disposal. Big time! The group must have a wealthy financer.

Let me be blunt about it: I consider such an undertaking foolish, something reasonable people should not do if they care about the future of their family. It’s a big waste of time, money, and even dignity. There is no clear evidence that the Japanese set foot in these boondocks during World War II. Since pre-Spanish time, there was no one here but the indigenous Dulangan Manobo. Outsiders, mostly Ilonggos and Ilocanos, only started to flock here in 1960s and 1970s.

 Treasure hunters use a backhoe to dig a hole. Most diggers in Kulaman
Plateau use shovels, so this particular group probably has a wealthy 
financer. The hole is covered with tarpaulin to hold off gossipmongers.
I’m sorry for the blurry and badly angled photo; I have to take this
covertly because a man in civilian clothes seemed
to be guarding the hole when I passed by.

One illogical thing most of these hunters believe is that the treasure moves. They say that one taboo committed by anyone around could be enough for the chest of gold bars to change location. So the diggers speak in hushed codes, don’t let strangers take a peek at the hole, and walk on tiptoe. OK, I just made up the last one. My point is that excavation is almost like a holy ritual for these people—no dirty jokes and rum drinking at the site. If they know I’m writing this and making light of their life-changing endeavor, they would accuse me of putting a jinx on them. Heck, some of these people might even be homicidal because they’re putting all their resources on the excavation, so I’m not going to specify the locations of existing treasure hunting activities.

Perhaps the only good thing these treasure hunters contribute is that they sometimes stumble on an entirely different kind of treasure. The narrow entrance to the magnificent White Cave of Kuden was first suspected to be a tunnel dug by fleeing Japanese soldiers. A treasure hunter shoveled the dirt and found an immense underground hall of sparkling speleothems. (I wrote a fictional account of discovery in another post.) The clay burial jars of Maitum, Sarangani Province, were also discovered by men searching for treasures in a cave.

My brother and his classmate pose near abandoned holes

by treasure hunters at the top of Ilyan Hill, considered mystical

by the Dulangan Manobo. Many hunters believe that yellow

Chinese bamboos indicate a treasure’s location.

In the same manner, hunters can also destroy valuable archaeological artifacts. In a cave in the village of Tacupis, it is said that there was once a bas-relief of a woman on its wall, and treasure hunters broke the figure to see if the woman had golden internal organs. Kulaman Plateau, having a Karstic topography, is a land of a hundred caves, and who knows what the treasure hunters have been digging or smashing inside them for the past few decades.

And writing this has made me thinking: Perhaps there should be a municipal ordinance banning any form of excavation or at least requiring excavations to seek a permit first. This way, treasure hunters could dig in their backyard or even inside their house to their hearts’ content but caves and other natural treasures—Kulaman’s true treasures—could be protected.