Time, terms, language changes as time passes
>> Friday, August 18, 2023
CULTURAL NOTES
Richard Kinnud
There was this speaker who tried to be creative in his forewords, greeting his audience in the languages he thought they might be speaking saying, “To our Abra participants ‘nabalu a wakas no’; so with those from Apayao, ‘ambalu we bigbigat’; to those from Kalinga, ‘napia un gidgidam”; to our Benguet kababayans, ‘mapteng shi agew’ “kagam-is ay agew’; to our Kalanguya participants ‘pahad ni aghapa’; to those from Bontoc and thereabouts, ‘gawis ay Mountain Province’; and if any one may not have understood the greeting ‘naimbag nga agsapa’, ‘magandang umaga’ to all of you. Of course I did not forget the Ifugaos. In their place they say ‘Good morning!’
It yielded some chuckle from the audience. One said, “Gawis ay Mountain Province ladta uray anya nga oras!” And another would comment, “Apay awan piman aya ti saon ti Ifugao ti ‘Good morning’?”
In the Ifugao Tuwali language, broadly, morning is nawi'it, noontime is nalalgo, afternoon is nahimbatangan and night time is nahdom. In some areas, morning is biggatna and noontime is nal-algo. And like other langauages, there are terms for some specific time: mun-abi-a when daylight starts to emerge; munawiwi'it for the earliest part of daylight; nunggawa when the sun is about above the mountains; nawod when the sun is high above the skies and nearing noontime; naiwil just after noontime, mun-aahom when darkness starts to appear, and gawan di hilong for middle of the night. ***
Old folks
also often make reference to what commonly happens at particular time stretch
as the term for that period. For example in the very early
morning, there is pimminghan or pinghan di talanu for
the first cock's crow, pimmidwa or pidwa(second)
or pitlun (third) di talanu. At dusk, there
is hinnah-hinag, or
simply himminag or hinag with reference to the
colorful strata or light reflecting from the sun below the horizon.
It could
be funny but I would say that the English word for these terms on the time periods
are what’s at the tip of tongue rather than the native words. Thus, when greeting someone, “Good morning”,
“Good afternoon” and the like are more likely to be blurted out than “pahad ni
aghapa” and the many other native way of saying. It is becoming a permanent alteration to our
native languages.
I think “nawod”, “nunggawa” “pimminghan”
“naiwil” are seldom used. The exact time
on a watch or a mobile phone is rather said than use those terms. These are example of words that are on the
way to obsolescence if not yet forgotten.
The
adaptations and words that are becoming obsolete are instances of language
change. Such a phenomenon could be
inevitable considering the many causes that could be some natural course of
things.
Is
language change something for the better, or is it something bad? I have heard an opinion that said
neither. But if it leads to loss of
identity, then it should be managed.
***
The
Buwan ng mga Wika which is celebrated every August is surely a good practice
for the preservation of languages and thus in way manage possible threats of
language decay. In my school days when
it was yet celebrated as Month of the National Language which is of course
referring to Filipino, it was a time to write literary pieces in the language
as part of academic requirements. That
could be a strategy for teachers too in the native languages.
Unfortunately,
in public elementary and secondary schools this time, August is not school days
for the learners. If the current school
calendar will be thought to become permanent, then it might be time to think
about reverting back to March or April as the celebration for Buwan ng mga
Wika.
***
The
archives has it that originally Linggo ng Wika is last days of March to the
first days of April, the dates of which covers
the birthday of Francisco Balagatas, one of the greatest if not the
greatest Filipino literary luminary.
Of
course, literary writing may not have to be during occasion like Buwan mga
Wika. This is encouraged any time. The contests and other programs undertaken
by government agencies such as the
National Commission for Culture and the Arts (NCCA) and the Komisyon sa Wikang
Filipino (KWF) and many non-government organizations and schools could be taken
as an inspiration to write.
(Incidentally,
the National Committee on Literary Arts of the NCCA is currently welcoming
entries of short stories and poems for the 2023 Gawad Bienvenido Lumbera.
Kankanaey,
one of our native languages here in the Cordillera, is one of the featured
languages in this year’s contest.
Deadline for submission is September 30.
Visit their facebook page for the other details.
Richard Kinnud
How active is use of Cordillera indigenous Languages?
According to the Philippine Statistics Authority (PSA) in a 2023 release, citing results of their 2020 Census of Population and Housing, Tagalog is the leading language generally spoken at home in the country with 39.9 % of the more than twenty million households reporting it as such. Rounding up the top ten are Bisaya/Binisaya (16 %), Hiligaynon (7.3 %), Ilocano (7.1 %), Cebuano (6.5 %), Bikol/Bicol (3.9 %), Waray (2.6 %), Kapampangan (2.4 %), Maguindanao (1.4 %), and Pangasinan (1.3 %). Summing them up, these top ten languages are spoken at home by 88.4 % of the total household.
Unless we would consider Ilocano and Pangasinan as native languages of the Cordillera, we note that there are no Cordillera indigenous languages in the top spoken languages.
The statistics reveals that there are at least two hundred fifty local languages in the country and at least ten foreign languages spoken in homes. This means that the more than two hundred languages outside of the top ten, to include those of the Cordillera, spoken at home are divided to only eleven percent of the country’s household.
The languages in Cordillera are thus described as spoken by a minority. And this is understandable as the population of the Cordillera region is just 1.6 % of the total population. Even if we add Cordillera natives who migrated to other regions, it may still be minority.
Ethnologue: Languages of the World , a continuing and active research project owned by the NGO, SIL International which “long to see people flourishing in community using the languages they value most” lists at least thirty four native languages in the Cordillera. In Apayao and thereabouts, these are Isnag, Pudtol Atta; in Kalinga area, the list includes Limos Kalinga, Mabaka Valley Kalinga, Vanaw Kalinga, Lubuagan, Butbut, Tanudan and Southern Kalinga; in Abra and near its bounds are Binongan Itneg, Adasen, Masadiit, Maeng Itneg, Moyadan Itneg, and Inlaud Itneg; in Mt. Province and places near it are Ga’dang, Majukayang Kalinga, Balangao, Eastern Bontok, Southern Bontok, Southwestern Bontok, Central Bontok, Northern Bontok, and Northern Kankanay; in the Ifugao area are Amganad Ifugao, Mayoyao Ifugao, Kelley-I Kallahan, Tuwali Ifugao, Batad Ifugao and Kalanguya; and in Benguet and thereabouts are Ibaloy, Kankanaey, Iwak and Karao.
The most recent edition of Ethnologue has classified three of these languages as endangered. It is explained in the its website that a language becomes endangered when there are only a few speakers, and the users started teaching children with a more dominant language.
The Northern Bontok and the Southwestern Bontok are listed as endangered as it was noted that they are “used as first language by older adults only.”. As for the Iwak, it was thought that there is a “decreasing number of children” using it. It was not also known if these languages are taught in school.
The other languages are profiled as stable. This would not however be a reason to relax. For most, these are not known to be well taught in schools.
In the country’s basic educational system, there is the so-called Mother Tongue Based Multilingual Education (MTB-MLE). One of its aims is to let children develop a “strong foundation” in their native tongue, and that basing on the assumption that it is the language they know best, they can learn well. Its implementation, however, is not without any problem.
Teachers claim there is dearth in instructional materials in the mother tongue. And even some parents complain of having difficulties in assisting their children on certain homework in the mother tongue. But we see here a situation wherein if native languages are not taught in school and eventually abandoned at home, languages will go in peril.
A lot of other factors are also present in the environment causing language change. The internet age, for instance, influences kids to be more conversant in English than in the native language because contents are mostly in that language. If there are no counter measures or at least actions that keep our native language stable, then we might soon be in a situation where our own language die.
The most practicable contribution is to use our indigenous language in daily conversations where and whenever it is possible. And if we can go beyond that like producing appropriate social media contents or maybe literary works that can continue to entice children to the native language, it would be better.
The local singers are doing great sharing their talent in the native language. Anyone can also do the same in other ways he or she can do. It would be best if all adopt as personal mantra the vision of SIL, to see our own “flourishing in community using the languages they value most.”. Let’s keep active our Cordillera languages.
Unless we would consider Ilocano and Pangasinan as native languages of the Cordillera, we note that there are no Cordillera indigenous languages in the top spoken languages.
The statistics reveals that there are at least two hundred fifty local languages in the country and at least ten foreign languages spoken in homes. This means that the more than two hundred languages outside of the top ten, to include those of the Cordillera, spoken at home are divided to only eleven percent of the country’s household.
The languages in Cordillera are thus described as spoken by a minority. And this is understandable as the population of the Cordillera region is just 1.6 % of the total population. Even if we add Cordillera natives who migrated to other regions, it may still be minority.
Ethnologue: Languages of the World , a continuing and active research project owned by the NGO, SIL International which “long to see people flourishing in community using the languages they value most” lists at least thirty four native languages in the Cordillera. In Apayao and thereabouts, these are Isnag, Pudtol Atta; in Kalinga area, the list includes Limos Kalinga, Mabaka Valley Kalinga, Vanaw Kalinga, Lubuagan, Butbut, Tanudan and Southern Kalinga; in Abra and near its bounds are Binongan Itneg, Adasen, Masadiit, Maeng Itneg, Moyadan Itneg, and Inlaud Itneg; in Mt. Province and places near it are Ga’dang, Majukayang Kalinga, Balangao, Eastern Bontok, Southern Bontok, Southwestern Bontok, Central Bontok, Northern Bontok, and Northern Kankanay; in the Ifugao area are Amganad Ifugao, Mayoyao Ifugao, Kelley-I Kallahan, Tuwali Ifugao, Batad Ifugao and Kalanguya; and in Benguet and thereabouts are Ibaloy, Kankanaey, Iwak and Karao.
The most recent edition of Ethnologue has classified three of these languages as endangered. It is explained in the its website that a language becomes endangered when there are only a few speakers, and the users started teaching children with a more dominant language.
The Northern Bontok and the Southwestern Bontok are listed as endangered as it was noted that they are “used as first language by older adults only.”. As for the Iwak, it was thought that there is a “decreasing number of children” using it. It was not also known if these languages are taught in school.
The other languages are profiled as stable. This would not however be a reason to relax. For most, these are not known to be well taught in schools.
In the country’s basic educational system, there is the so-called Mother Tongue Based Multilingual Education (MTB-MLE). One of its aims is to let children develop a “strong foundation” in their native tongue, and that basing on the assumption that it is the language they know best, they can learn well. Its implementation, however, is not without any problem.
Teachers claim there is dearth in instructional materials in the mother tongue. And even some parents complain of having difficulties in assisting their children on certain homework in the mother tongue. But we see here a situation wherein if native languages are not taught in school and eventually abandoned at home, languages will go in peril.
A lot of other factors are also present in the environment causing language change. The internet age, for instance, influences kids to be more conversant in English than in the native language because contents are mostly in that language. If there are no counter measures or at least actions that keep our native language stable, then we might soon be in a situation where our own language die.
The most practicable contribution is to use our indigenous language in daily conversations where and whenever it is possible. And if we can go beyond that like producing appropriate social media contents or maybe literary works that can continue to entice children to the native language, it would be better.
The local singers are doing great sharing their talent in the native language. Anyone can also do the same in other ways he or she can do. It would be best if all adopt as personal mantra the vision of SIL, to see our own “flourishing in community using the languages they value most.”. Let’s keep active our Cordillera languages.
CULTURAL NOTES
Richard Kinnud
Hulu
This is how my native Tuwali calls these setups that are intended to catch ground-dwelling birds and possibly animals that crawl such as lizards. Passing by these in a forest at a recent running workout I had reminded me of those childhood days.
Not that I caught birds using the hulu but because my contemporaries then often tease me for being unable to have a good assembly of the hulu.
I was also reminded of another setup for catching birds – the lingon. It is similar to a hulu but it is intended for birds on the air or on trees. The set up could be on a tree or on a pole that would include a bait to catch the attention of birds and some snaps to actually catch one that takes the bait.
The "lingon" had me humming a familiar tune that we used to sing in our elementary days. "Tudde" has always been ascribed to be the title of that native song.
It tells the story of a spring where a "tude" was placed. A tude is a bamboo stem or banana stalk that is used to extend the flow of water from where it descends so as to give space to take a bath from it or do some washing.
Unable to recall the lyrics of the song, I suddenly missed home. I soon texted home for the lyrics and my mother obliged singing the song, as usual.
***
Here’s the lyrics that she sang:
Tudde mimmappuy-uk/ Tudde mimmattammuy-uk/
An puna-amhan di tektek/ Pun-amhan di Hamuti
An kon mi laninglingnon/ Kon mi anap-appadon
Ya kina mi on tektek/ Kinna mi on hamuti
Ot ihakyat mih boble/ Ikalladang mih boble
Ot kon mi anam-amhon/ Kon mi anig-iggudon
Not that I caught birds using the hulu but because my contemporaries then often tease me for being unable to have a good assembly of the hulu.
I was also reminded of another setup for catching birds – the lingon. It is similar to a hulu but it is intended for birds on the air or on trees. The set up could be on a tree or on a pole that would include a bait to catch the attention of birds and some snaps to actually catch one that takes the bait.
The "lingon" had me humming a familiar tune that we used to sing in our elementary days. "Tudde" has always been ascribed to be the title of that native song.
It tells the story of a spring where a "tude" was placed. A tude is a bamboo stem or banana stalk that is used to extend the flow of water from where it descends so as to give space to take a bath from it or do some washing.
Unable to recall the lyrics of the song, I suddenly missed home. I soon texted home for the lyrics and my mother obliged singing the song, as usual.
***
Here’s the lyrics that she sang:
Tudde mimmappuy-uk/ Tudde mimmattammuy-uk/
An puna-amhan di tektek/ Pun-amhan di Hamuti
An kon mi laninglingnon/ Kon mi anap-appadon
Ya kina mi on tektek/ Kinna mi on hamuti
Ot ihakyat mih boble/ Ikalladang mih boble
Ot kon mi anam-amhon/ Kon mi anig-iggudon
Ya dimmongyay ibukna/ Dimmongyay id-idde na
Yak on ot bokon tektek/ Kon-ot bokon hamuti
Te kon-ot bo bugbuggan/ Kon-ot bo damdamayyon
Ot kon mi toltolgayan/ Kon mi banalbalkowan
Ya dinayyunah dalan/ Dayyunah kitun-udan
***
Roughly translated in English, the song is saying:
The chute of water that is abundant/ the chute that is overflowing
Where the tektek takes a bath/ Where birds wash themselves
Where we often snare them/ we often trap them
Then we caught a tektek/ we thought we caught a good bird
The we brought it home/ We carried it home
We washed it/ we brushed it
Then its hair became shiny/ So with it eyelids
It turned out it wasn’t a tektek/ It wasn’t a bird
Turns out a lady/ A very young lady
And so we put on her a skirt/ We properly wrapped a girdle
Then she went down the pathway/ Looks like I can follow her
***
In sum, the "first person" in the song was telling that they set up some trap near a tude where birds often come to take a bath. One time they caught one, and brought it home where they soon discovered that their catch wasn't a bird but is actually a young lady.
They garbed her with properly and soon the lady run down the spring where she came from, and he was deciding if he should follow her.
It looked like the song is just for entertainment. But maybe the message ingrained in it that indeed in this world, we humans are not the only inhabitants. The things around may not just be things but have life forces in them.
It is like our native languages. Sometimes we see it as inferior to other languages especially those that are internationally renowned. Yet life also flows with it such as feelings, ideas, knowledge, and philosophies.
CULTURAL NOTES
Richard Kinnud
The huhhuwa and what it can echo
Growing up in the barrio, the making of a huhuwwa was one of our simple joy after the rice harvest. Before harvest, it is generally considered “paniyo” or forbidden. The obvious reason is that the growing up rice plant should not be destroyed but others would add that the sound might disturb or call up bad spirits. The huhhuwa is made from the stem of the rice plant crafted to produce sound. At times, it would be devised just like the tungngali (flute) to make it more musical. It is not really intended to last long as the stem is expected to wither. So a huhuwwa is a temporary amusement.
There is a verse that we used to recite while crafting it as if it were a prayer necessary to produce the sound. The verse is as follows:
Dudduk, dudduk! Bayyatuk! / Tumkuk a't umiyag a / Ta donglon nan gayyaman / Ad Dukliggan-igan-igan!
Deyya nan algo'n natulittuliggonggong, / Natulittulippokpok!
Baklung, gumangoh a.
[Translation: I shall pierce in, pierce in, Bayyatuk! / Shout and yell / So you will be heard by the centipede / In Dukligan-igan-igan!
There is the sun that is round, / spherical!
Baklung, sound off now!]
***
The last time my family went for a visit back in my birthplace, the fields were already harvested. In our time at such a setting, you would see groups of kids going to the pond fields to harvest umuk, the new shoots from the rice plant that grow after the harvests.
The umuk can be consumed raw or cooked for viand. Or maybe catch native fishes from the pond fields. It is generally not prohibited to do these activities after the rice harvest. And after having the umuk or the fishes, one would get a stem, then make and sound a huhhuwa.
Once someone began, you would expect others at hearing distance to make and sound their own. And some melodious atmosphere is created. This time, I did not see kids play the huhhuwa let alone in those fields harvesting umuk or catching fishes. There’s an apparent change of how things are.
I called my two youngest kids and a nephew to the field purposely to tell them about the huhhuwwa. I started making one then my nephew, who grew up there and at an age to make already the huhhuwa, claimed that he and his classmates were sounding them. But when I started reciting the verse we used to declaim in the process of making it, his face was blank. Such a verse recitation was really unnecessary to make the toy sound so I believe him when he said they kids are still doing the huhhuwa.
The non-recitation though of such a seemingly meaningless verse is indicative of a general decline or maybe even a disinterest in indigenous literature. In our time, almost every child in the barrio knows “Dudduk! Dudduk! Bayyatuk!” And the general plot of Kamma i Kungnga and other common a’apo (folk tales).
I believe that flowing with the interest for indigenous literature is the instinctive attention for one’s native language. Flowing with the languages is knowledge or even wisdom that can guide everyday living. The simple verse for making the huhhuwa instills in the children’s subconscious that the things around are of great consequence or that they have in them life-forces that should not be ignored.
In past times, oral literature is a thing of the home. But as learning has shifted to formal schools, then it is expected that indigenous literature are also incorporated in. IKSP. MTB-MLE. These are acronyms representing programs in the formal school system promoting attention to what is native. To me, they are laudable programs that hopefully would continue to be sustained and improved. And when so, the huhhuwa continues to play.
As month of August arrives, this corner would like to greet each one a Happy Buwan ng Wika. Let’s continue honoring not just the national language but our respective native languages.
There is a verse that we used to recite while crafting it as if it were a prayer necessary to produce the sound. The verse is as follows:
Dudduk, dudduk! Bayyatuk! / Tumkuk a't umiyag a / Ta donglon nan gayyaman / Ad Dukliggan-igan-igan!
Deyya nan algo'n natulittuliggonggong, / Natulittulippokpok!
Baklung, gumangoh a.
[Translation: I shall pierce in, pierce in, Bayyatuk! / Shout and yell / So you will be heard by the centipede / In Dukligan-igan-igan!
There is the sun that is round, / spherical!
Baklung, sound off now!]
***
The last time my family went for a visit back in my birthplace, the fields were already harvested. In our time at such a setting, you would see groups of kids going to the pond fields to harvest umuk, the new shoots from the rice plant that grow after the harvests.
The umuk can be consumed raw or cooked for viand. Or maybe catch native fishes from the pond fields. It is generally not prohibited to do these activities after the rice harvest. And after having the umuk or the fishes, one would get a stem, then make and sound a huhhuwa.
Once someone began, you would expect others at hearing distance to make and sound their own. And some melodious atmosphere is created. This time, I did not see kids play the huhhuwa let alone in those fields harvesting umuk or catching fishes. There’s an apparent change of how things are.
I called my two youngest kids and a nephew to the field purposely to tell them about the huhhuwwa. I started making one then my nephew, who grew up there and at an age to make already the huhhuwa, claimed that he and his classmates were sounding them. But when I started reciting the verse we used to declaim in the process of making it, his face was blank. Such a verse recitation was really unnecessary to make the toy sound so I believe him when he said they kids are still doing the huhhuwa.
The non-recitation though of such a seemingly meaningless verse is indicative of a general decline or maybe even a disinterest in indigenous literature. In our time, almost every child in the barrio knows “Dudduk! Dudduk! Bayyatuk!” And the general plot of Kamma i Kungnga and other common a’apo (folk tales).
I believe that flowing with the interest for indigenous literature is the instinctive attention for one’s native language. Flowing with the languages is knowledge or even wisdom that can guide everyday living. The simple verse for making the huhhuwa instills in the children’s subconscious that the things around are of great consequence or that they have in them life-forces that should not be ignored.
In past times, oral literature is a thing of the home. But as learning has shifted to formal schools, then it is expected that indigenous literature are also incorporated in. IKSP. MTB-MLE. These are acronyms representing programs in the formal school system promoting attention to what is native. To me, they are laudable programs that hopefully would continue to be sustained and improved. And when so, the huhhuwa continues to play.
As month of August arrives, this corner would like to greet each one a Happy Buwan ng Wika. Let’s continue honoring not just the national language but our respective native languages.
CULTURAL NOTES
Richard Kinnud
Of independence and Cordilleras
Mateo Carino, a Cordilleran, was proclaimed a National Hero in 1998 on the occasion of the Philippines Centennial. A bust in his honor at Luneta Park in Manila has this to say about him – “The Ibaloi chieftain of Benguet who led a successful revolt against the Spanish garrison in La Trinidad in 1898. Aguinaldo made him ‘captain’ of Baguio and head of the Igorot army.”
I believe that Cordillerans are proud of information of this sort - that the Cordilleran forebears had role in gaining Philippine independence. But I doubt if most of the Cordilleras do have such awareness.
One reason for this is the apparent scarcity of resource materials. And if there are, it may not be accessible to all. In a paper entitled The Igorot Struggle for Independence (read before the Cordillera Congress for National Liberation, Mountain Provincial High School, December 26, 1971), William Henry Scott said in the introductory pages, “It is a strange thing that the history textbooks commonly in use in the public and private schools for the Republic of the Philippines never mention the fact that the Igorot peoples of Northern Luzon fought for their liberty against foreign aggressions all during the 350 years that their lowland brethren were being ruled by Spanish invaders.” Scott was describing a situation 1970’s but could still be true up to today. I went to elementary and high school 1980’s and 1990’s and I cannot recall some elaborate lesson on this matter. I was helping my school kids with their assignments and so far the only thing about Igorots they have, I noticed, is “I” for Igorot.
Is there really a lot about Cordillerans and the liberation to merit attention especially of the youth in the place? Scott in the same paper says, “Spanish records make it clear that they (Igorots) fought for their independence with every means at their disposal for three centuries, and that this resistance to invasion was deliberate, self-conscious, and continuous.” He mentions fightbacks of people of the highlands every time there is a Spanish invasion. There were certainly several battles fought. He cites the Battle of Tonglo in 1759 and the Battle of Kiangan in 1767.
In the Battle of Kiangan, Mariano Dumia in the book Ifugao World quotes writing by Scott that said, “The heavy rains of spears and stones accompanied by blood-curdling shouts completely panicked the (Spanish) soldiers and they ran off.” In the conclusion of the 1971 Bontoc paper, Scott seems to lament that while books are highlighting differentiation of Igorots with other Filipinos, there was “never a word about their 350-year resistance to foreign aggression.”
There surely are dissenting opinion. Maria Nela B. Florendo, in the article “Ethnic History (Cordillera)” said that the role of Cordillerans in the liberation is still subject to discourse. She also summarized this contribution to simply the longevity of the resistance to invasion, “a resistance that was ideologically confined to defense of tribal sovereignty rather than a resistance to establish a Filipino independent state.”
Certainly, aside from the Spanish period, there still other important pieces of history on the Igorots and Independence that needs to be known by any Cordilleran. This would include the American Period and those periods after that.
Magnifying the role of Cordillerans to Philippine independence are certainly with meaning. As those rooting for local history would say, it is a way to belong. It is seeing the rocks, grasses, and trees and not just the mountain in a broad spectrum. As may have been was implied by Scott, there is a need for rectification of a big injustice that history books may have had against the Cordillerans.
And, more importantly, knowing history relates to present engagements on independence, for instance, the issue on autonomy for the Cordilleras. Florendo said, “Cordillera people still have to define the substance of that autonomy which would fully put to practice the Cordillera people’s vision of having control over their institutions, their economy and their affairs.”
The good thing is that the education sector is having programs that supports these. In basic education, there is accommodation for learning indigenous people’s perspectives and knowledge. It is good to know that this is supported in higher education institutions. In the Cordilleras, the Commission on Higher Education is promoting Project HERITAGE (Higher Education Regional Integration and Teaching of Appropriate, Genuine, and Exhaustive studies on indigenous peoples). One of its aims is having history and heritage of the Cordilleras be formally in the university curriculum.
Such advocacies in the education sector surely impacts awareness of the present generation of how the past generation fought for independence surely which in turn affects views on contemporary issues. Such views bear upon community/society decisions without having to be coerced by outside powers. Such an ability to decide is foremost in real independence.
I believe that Cordillerans are proud of information of this sort - that the Cordilleran forebears had role in gaining Philippine independence. But I doubt if most of the Cordilleras do have such awareness.
One reason for this is the apparent scarcity of resource materials. And if there are, it may not be accessible to all. In a paper entitled The Igorot Struggle for Independence (read before the Cordillera Congress for National Liberation, Mountain Provincial High School, December 26, 1971), William Henry Scott said in the introductory pages, “It is a strange thing that the history textbooks commonly in use in the public and private schools for the Republic of the Philippines never mention the fact that the Igorot peoples of Northern Luzon fought for their liberty against foreign aggressions all during the 350 years that their lowland brethren were being ruled by Spanish invaders.” Scott was describing a situation 1970’s but could still be true up to today. I went to elementary and high school 1980’s and 1990’s and I cannot recall some elaborate lesson on this matter. I was helping my school kids with their assignments and so far the only thing about Igorots they have, I noticed, is “I” for Igorot.
Is there really a lot about Cordillerans and the liberation to merit attention especially of the youth in the place? Scott in the same paper says, “Spanish records make it clear that they (Igorots) fought for their independence with every means at their disposal for three centuries, and that this resistance to invasion was deliberate, self-conscious, and continuous.” He mentions fightbacks of people of the highlands every time there is a Spanish invasion. There were certainly several battles fought. He cites the Battle of Tonglo in 1759 and the Battle of Kiangan in 1767.
In the Battle of Kiangan, Mariano Dumia in the book Ifugao World quotes writing by Scott that said, “The heavy rains of spears and stones accompanied by blood-curdling shouts completely panicked the (Spanish) soldiers and they ran off.” In the conclusion of the 1971 Bontoc paper, Scott seems to lament that while books are highlighting differentiation of Igorots with other Filipinos, there was “never a word about their 350-year resistance to foreign aggression.”
There surely are dissenting opinion. Maria Nela B. Florendo, in the article “Ethnic History (Cordillera)” said that the role of Cordillerans in the liberation is still subject to discourse. She also summarized this contribution to simply the longevity of the resistance to invasion, “a resistance that was ideologically confined to defense of tribal sovereignty rather than a resistance to establish a Filipino independent state.”
Certainly, aside from the Spanish period, there still other important pieces of history on the Igorots and Independence that needs to be known by any Cordilleran. This would include the American Period and those periods after that.
Magnifying the role of Cordillerans to Philippine independence are certainly with meaning. As those rooting for local history would say, it is a way to belong. It is seeing the rocks, grasses, and trees and not just the mountain in a broad spectrum. As may have been was implied by Scott, there is a need for rectification of a big injustice that history books may have had against the Cordillerans.
And, more importantly, knowing history relates to present engagements on independence, for instance, the issue on autonomy for the Cordilleras. Florendo said, “Cordillera people still have to define the substance of that autonomy which would fully put to practice the Cordillera people’s vision of having control over their institutions, their economy and their affairs.”
The good thing is that the education sector is having programs that supports these. In basic education, there is accommodation for learning indigenous people’s perspectives and knowledge. It is good to know that this is supported in higher education institutions. In the Cordilleras, the Commission on Higher Education is promoting Project HERITAGE (Higher Education Regional Integration and Teaching of Appropriate, Genuine, and Exhaustive studies on indigenous peoples). One of its aims is having history and heritage of the Cordilleras be formally in the university curriculum.
Such advocacies in the education sector surely impacts awareness of the present generation of how the past generation fought for independence surely which in turn affects views on contemporary issues. Such views bear upon community/society decisions without having to be coerced by outside powers. Such an ability to decide is foremost in real independence.
***
SIDENOTE: A tribute to a writer of local culture and history
Dr. Morr Tadeo Pungayan already wrote thirty, the paper to which he writes a column announced.
I do not exactly remember if he was my instructor back in college at the College of Accountancy and Commerce at Saint Louis University. But I became an avid fan of his column, Ethnos Ibaloi et Lengue, which later was shortened to Ethnos Ibaloi. I like his simple writing and of course his local topics.
He once wrote about the meaning of the Ibaloi phrase, Nan bahsos. In his research, the “nan bahsos” is pudnon daki (translated as genuine man or a hero).
I think, Dr. Morr Tadeo Pungayan is a nan bahsos. May his soul rest in peace, and continue to be guardian of heritage and culture of the Cordillera.
CULTURAL NOTES
Richard Kinnud
On Lato-lato
A place where there is no lato-lato is the place where people wanted to go nowadays, according to some memes posted on social media. To be more precise, those who can’t stand the clacking sounds of the latest craze that caught up with schoolchildren these days would really desire that either the lato-latos are vanished or that they be teleported to a place where there is no lato-lato.
How bad really was the noise from lato-lato? My wife who works in a high school told me, “Just imagine a small school compound where several hundreds of students are out for say recess or lunch break, and more than hundred of them playing lato-lato. The ears will surely fold in pain!” I doubt such a scenario as I have heard lato-lato being played in the neighborhood from maybe one or a couple of players and I find it not disturbing. But my high school boy would let me believe it saying some of his friends who would usually play bigger balls such as volleyball or basketball had once shifted to playing lato-lato during their class breaks. Their assertions made me understand why some schools and even local government used banned the toy in their jurisdiction.
The Food and Drug Administration (FDA), an agency of the government mandated to protect and promote health of the people through regulation of health products, has issued a warning to the public from purchasing “unnotified” lato-lato. Health products includes food and drugs, as spelled out in the name of the agency, and devices such as toys that may adversely affect the health of people, thus the lato-lato is clearly under the FDA’s regulatory powers.
According to the advisory, the “unnotified” brand of lato-lato identified by the regulatory body may have as one its components substances “that are not allowed to be part of a toy” as they may lead to health risks such as endocrine disruption, and reproductive or development (ill) effects. Further, the advisory says, it can lead to injury, choking, suffocation due to its small or broken parts.
“Unnotified” meant the manufacturer or distributor was not able to secure a license to operate a business involving household/urban hazardous substances (HUHS) and thus legally were unable to inform the public about product to include description of the toy, its source, the manufacturer or importer, and whoever is responsible for placing the product in the market; and also unable to make declaration of full responsibility for the product including making reports should there be adverse effects encountered later on by consumers.
According to the news, sales of lato-lato have decreased lately following the news about bans on the toy and the warning from the FDA. But even with the decline on the craze, I still bought a couple; one, to satisfy my curiosity, and second, to fulfill my promise to my two grade school kids.
I found out that I do not have the skill to play the toy. It seemed easy but in reality it is hard even to start the rhythm of taka-taka-taka-taka-tak sounds from the slow tak-tak-tak-tak.
When I brought the toys home, my better half’s initial reaction was, “Why did you buy those? They’re noisy. Didn’t you know some schools and barangays banned them? And that there’s a government warning against it?” It was however some delight to see the kids give up for sometime their eyes on the mobile phone games and keep trying on the lato-lato even as they too had a hard time on time, sometimes saying “Aray!” when the ball hit them.
Seeing them with the lato-lato brought me back to my childhood when certain toys were also the in-thing which I see rarely or even unplayed today especially here in urban areas. One is the “bowwot” (top). At those days, it is not a ready-made thing bought in the market. Admittedly, I am not good in it but am usually amazed by my playmates, who made their own top. Sometimes, I would help them find or beg for the plastic cover of the emptied glasses of instant coffee powder. One would be lucky if able to have that brand with orange covers as it gives a distinct cover to the toy.
How bad really was the noise from lato-lato? My wife who works in a high school told me, “Just imagine a small school compound where several hundreds of students are out for say recess or lunch break, and more than hundred of them playing lato-lato. The ears will surely fold in pain!” I doubt such a scenario as I have heard lato-lato being played in the neighborhood from maybe one or a couple of players and I find it not disturbing. But my high school boy would let me believe it saying some of his friends who would usually play bigger balls such as volleyball or basketball had once shifted to playing lato-lato during their class breaks. Their assertions made me understand why some schools and even local government used banned the toy in their jurisdiction.
The Food and Drug Administration (FDA), an agency of the government mandated to protect and promote health of the people through regulation of health products, has issued a warning to the public from purchasing “unnotified” lato-lato. Health products includes food and drugs, as spelled out in the name of the agency, and devices such as toys that may adversely affect the health of people, thus the lato-lato is clearly under the FDA’s regulatory powers.
According to the advisory, the “unnotified” brand of lato-lato identified by the regulatory body may have as one its components substances “that are not allowed to be part of a toy” as they may lead to health risks such as endocrine disruption, and reproductive or development (ill) effects. Further, the advisory says, it can lead to injury, choking, suffocation due to its small or broken parts.
“Unnotified” meant the manufacturer or distributor was not able to secure a license to operate a business involving household/urban hazardous substances (HUHS) and thus legally were unable to inform the public about product to include description of the toy, its source, the manufacturer or importer, and whoever is responsible for placing the product in the market; and also unable to make declaration of full responsibility for the product including making reports should there be adverse effects encountered later on by consumers.
According to the news, sales of lato-lato have decreased lately following the news about bans on the toy and the warning from the FDA. But even with the decline on the craze, I still bought a couple; one, to satisfy my curiosity, and second, to fulfill my promise to my two grade school kids.
I found out that I do not have the skill to play the toy. It seemed easy but in reality it is hard even to start the rhythm of taka-taka-taka-taka-tak sounds from the slow tak-tak-tak-tak.
When I brought the toys home, my better half’s initial reaction was, “Why did you buy those? They’re noisy. Didn’t you know some schools and barangays banned them? And that there’s a government warning against it?” It was however some delight to see the kids give up for sometime their eyes on the mobile phone games and keep trying on the lato-lato even as they too had a hard time on time, sometimes saying “Aray!” when the ball hit them.
Seeing them with the lato-lato brought me back to my childhood when certain toys were also the in-thing which I see rarely or even unplayed today especially here in urban areas. One is the “bowwot” (top). At those days, it is not a ready-made thing bought in the market. Admittedly, I am not good in it but am usually amazed by my playmates, who made their own top. Sometimes, I would help them find or beg for the plastic cover of the emptied glasses of instant coffee powder. One would be lucky if able to have that brand with orange covers as it gives a distinct cover to the toy.
The plastics will be melted on open fire and molded onto a nail. Sometimes, tops are also carved from wood. A game involving tops would be about each player trying to displace opponents’ top or tops from a circle. Sometimes, it involves hitting the tops inside the circle trying to break them. There is a simpler version made from the betel nut or guava fruit. The rules of the game would just be like as described earlier except that on breaking tops as the poles of the top are bamboo sticks.
Another toy then is the siatong. It involves two sticks, a short and a longer one, which we make ourselves from the stem of runo grass or from branches of trees. The game would involve opposing players or teams. One side would be a hitter and the other would be fielder. It has a scoring mechanism and in the end, the loser or losers will be made to shout “siaaaaaatong” uninterruptedly while running the distance from where the winner would hit the shorter stick with the long one to where the stick would land.
The nail tops and the siatong are considered too then as dangerous. I remember our teachers and school officials discouraging us from playing them. Still, my recall is that I have witnessed it played from my grade I to grade VI. If there was a government agency regulating “unnotified” products then, it surely won’t cover such as those toys were not manufactured by factories.
I marvel that if lato-lato were a craze then, some of those plastic covers that became tops were made to clackers. Of course today, the kids even in those rural areas could not make lato-lato like how I remember tops being made from plastic covers of emptied glasses of instant coffees. The glassed instant coffee is no longer an in-thing these days.
In my latest trip back to my hometown, I have rarely seen a lato-lato. I surmise this is true with other rural areas. With the craze declining, the lato-lato might also soon fade away in urban areas. Before long, we will be in the place where the memes on social media would like us to be – a place where there is no lato-lato.
Still, I think, the lato-lato has not been a trend for nothing. The noise could be a reminder for us to elude other noises or hazards that may come for instance in the silence of the computers. Or it could be some alarm for some musings about how it has been and alert us on how it should be. But even as we say some positives about the toy, it is always best to heed authorities’ warnings.
CULTURAL NOTES
Richard Kinnud
Of BIBAK, Igorot and the proposed autonomy
“Did you know that once upon a time, Mountain Province had a seashore?” The question was asked in one casual conversation of a group of friends.
“That is not surprising. You must be referring to the old Mountain Province,” one of those present confidently responded. “All of us know that Abra was part of it and its shoreline should then be coastal line of the old province.”
“You reference to an old Mountain Province is correct,” was the reply. “But Abra is part of the Cordillera Region that was created only in 1987. And besides, Abra does not have a shoreline.”
“But the A in BIBAK is Abra? And BIBAK was the old Mountain Province, is it not?” the one defending about Abra being the shoreline of the Old Mountain Province insisted.
“The A in BIBAK is Apayao,” another friend intervened. “The other letters stand for Bontoc, Ifugao, Benguet and Kalinga. And that is the old Mountain Province. But still quite puzzled too with an Old Mountain Province having a coastal line? Or is that just about the Kiangan joke ‘immali ya imme’?!”
The friends would soon conclude their conversation with the realization that their subject is not some practical joke. They realized that their discussion might just be reflective of reality that their knowledge on their place’s history is wanting. Yet it is certain that these topics are relevant to present day issues.
What most know of the old Mountain Province is that it had five sub-provinces namely Benguet, Ifugao, Bontoc, Apayao, and Kalinga. That old Mountain Province was then divided into four distinct provinces – Benguet, Ifugao, present day Mountain Province, and Kalinga-Apayao – by virtue of Republic Act 4695 enacted on June 18, 1966. It would have been the common birthday for these provinces but at present, only Ifugao is celebrating June 18 as its foundation day. Benguet is celebrating the day when a civil government was established for the province by Act No. 48 during the American rule on Novemeber 22, 1900. Mountain Province is celebrating April 7 as it was on this date in 1967 that the civil government came into operation. Kalinga-Apayao was divided of course into two separate provinces through Republic Act 7878 enacted on February 14, 1995.
But there was an older Mountain Province which was described then as the third largest province of the Philippine Islands.
This was created by virtue of Act No. 1876 dated August 8, 1908 composed of the subprovinces of Benguet, Amburayan, Bontoc, Apayao, Lepanto, Ifugao, and Kalinga. Sub-province Lepanto included some familiar names of places in present-day Benguet (Ampusungan, Mankayan), and of the Ilocos Province (San Emilio, and Cervantes) among others. Sub province Amburayan included some town of present-day La Union such as Santol and Sudipen, and most areas where the Amburayan River flows from some towns of present-day Benguet up to where the river empties in Tagudin of Ilocos Sur.
“That is not surprising. You must be referring to the old Mountain Province,” one of those present confidently responded. “All of us know that Abra was part of it and its shoreline should then be coastal line of the old province.”
“You reference to an old Mountain Province is correct,” was the reply. “But Abra is part of the Cordillera Region that was created only in 1987. And besides, Abra does not have a shoreline.”
“But the A in BIBAK is Abra? And BIBAK was the old Mountain Province, is it not?” the one defending about Abra being the shoreline of the Old Mountain Province insisted.
“The A in BIBAK is Apayao,” another friend intervened. “The other letters stand for Bontoc, Ifugao, Benguet and Kalinga. And that is the old Mountain Province. But still quite puzzled too with an Old Mountain Province having a coastal line? Or is that just about the Kiangan joke ‘immali ya imme’?!”
The friends would soon conclude their conversation with the realization that their subject is not some practical joke. They realized that their discussion might just be reflective of reality that their knowledge on their place’s history is wanting. Yet it is certain that these topics are relevant to present day issues.
What most know of the old Mountain Province is that it had five sub-provinces namely Benguet, Ifugao, Bontoc, Apayao, and Kalinga. That old Mountain Province was then divided into four distinct provinces – Benguet, Ifugao, present day Mountain Province, and Kalinga-Apayao – by virtue of Republic Act 4695 enacted on June 18, 1966. It would have been the common birthday for these provinces but at present, only Ifugao is celebrating June 18 as its foundation day. Benguet is celebrating the day when a civil government was established for the province by Act No. 48 during the American rule on Novemeber 22, 1900. Mountain Province is celebrating April 7 as it was on this date in 1967 that the civil government came into operation. Kalinga-Apayao was divided of course into two separate provinces through Republic Act 7878 enacted on February 14, 1995.
But there was an older Mountain Province which was described then as the third largest province of the Philippine Islands.
This was created by virtue of Act No. 1876 dated August 8, 1908 composed of the subprovinces of Benguet, Amburayan, Bontoc, Apayao, Lepanto, Ifugao, and Kalinga. Sub-province Lepanto included some familiar names of places in present-day Benguet (Ampusungan, Mankayan), and of the Ilocos Province (San Emilio, and Cervantes) among others. Sub province Amburayan included some town of present-day La Union such as Santol and Sudipen, and most areas where the Amburayan River flows from some towns of present-day Benguet up to where the river empties in Tagudin of Ilocos Sur.
The coastal line of Tagudin was then the coastal line of the Mountain Province. A source said that the inclusion of areas in the Ilocos in the Mountain Province is for political and economic reasons such as hastening the opening up of roads for the transport of needed materials for development into the mountains. This older Mountain province was superceded by Act No. 2772 passed on February 4, 1920 reconstituting Mountain Province into five subprovinces.
Even as there was only one province, some people saw the need to make an organization spelling out the sub-provinces. According to a paper by a group of journalism students (which is available online), there was the organization of a BIBKA Association on July 30, 1950.
BIBKA is an acronym for the different sub-provinces. The paper further said that it was a reorganization of a precedent Baguio Mountain Province Native Students Association.
The BIBKA later became BIBAK which had retained the “general purpose of unifying the different tribes in Montañosa.” (Montañosa is the Spanish reference to the Mountain Province.) The need to spell out the names of the places in an organization is reflective of the recognition of distinctions such as in the history of the places and also of commonalities such as on aspirations.
The old Mountain Province and BIBAK seemed to be the basis of many to say that those in these geographical areas, all of which are now part of Cordillera Administrative Region, should all be called Igorots.
BIBAK organizations would later have other nomenclatures that include BIBAAK and BIMAAK. This is obviously an effort to incorporate some recent changes. The Cordillera Administrative Region was formed by virtue of Executive Order 220 signed by then President Aquino on July 15, 1987.
The region now includes the province of Abra apart from the BIBAK provinces. Thus, the other A in the acronym is to represent it. Abra had been a separate province even during the existence of the older Mt. Province. Some sources would say though that Abra’s connection to the old Mountain Province is not first-time as some towns in the present-day Abra were once part of an older political boundary of the subprovince of Lepanto.
BIBAK as an organization of students has since become sparse or even extinct. The paper of the journalism students say this “natural death” of the organization started in the late 1990s. There still however some, mostly community based no longer school based, that adopts BIBAK as the “generic name” of organization of people from the Cordilleras especially those overseas.
While there was the decline of BIBAK organizations, there were similar associations that are on the rise. One is the Igorot Global Organization and another is the Igorot Warriors International.
Common to their aims are preservation or promotion of culture or heritage and the advancement of interests of people. This is a good sign as the organizations are viable avenues to discuss issued affecting these provinces.
One recurring issue is the proposed autonomy which was twice rejected but lawmakers from these provinces are reviving on the basis that it is enshrined in the 1987 Philippine Constitution.
Some elders today are talking of the “glory days of BIBAK.” Those glory days included the time when people from the region protested to that statement that “Igorots are not Filipinos.” Civil society organizations such as BIBAK surely can do those “glory days” as when contributing to the discussion and in understanding what really autonomy is.
A friend said perhaps Igorot or BIBAAK or BIMAAK organizations, can for example propose that instead of calling it “Cordillera Autonomous Region,” why not call it the Igorot Autonomous Region? The name can by itself cause the approval of the autonomy. The name may also trigger other discussions such as expanding the coverage of the autonomy to places adjacent to the present-day CAR where Igorots live like parts La Union, Ilocos Sur and Nueva Vizcaya which were once part of the old Mountain Province or of its component provinces.
On the other hand, would there really be a need for autonomy? As has been illustrated by history, the older Mountain Province which included places in Ilocos Sur was dissolved when the economic and political reason for its being has been served. In similar way, can’t the idea of autonomy be adjourned too as the reason as imagined by the Constitution’s framers may have already been served the present administrative set up? Civil society organizations, especially those with the BIBAK, BIMAAK or Igorot mark, can certainly help in clarifying these things.
CULTURAL NOTES
Richard Kinnud
‘Kaman kanen di Igorot’
I had once a good conversation with a taxi driver about Cordilleran nutrition. While traffic was going slow and we were by a branch of that fastfood chain well-known for grilled chicken, unlimited rice and softdrinks in La Trinidad, the cab driver blurted, “Mayat iman sina yan ta kaman kanen di Igorot di makan ngem nangina. (It was good there because the food is like what Igorots eat but it is expensive.)”
When I asked, he clarified that what he meant by “kaman kanen di Igorot” is that the menu in the restaurant tastes like native chicken. He would concede though that native chicken meat menu of Cordillerans is boiled. Whether it be the ‘pinikpik’ style or the ‘kolo’ style, as long as it is dressed through the fire and mixed with etag, it will surely make a soup so delicious that it would satisfy every single cell in the mouth and the esophagus before finding its place in the stomach. That is the real Cordilleran food, he concluded.
Simply to let the conversation prosper, I asked “Anya pay ngay nga agpaysu ti dadduma nga kanen ti Igorot?” He shared that when he was a growing up in La Trinidad, jojo (dojo loach) still abound the swamp area now better known as the Strawberry Farm. It is usually cooked deep-fried or boiled while wrapped with sugar-cane or banana leaves, he said.
He also recalled that kids then would troop by themselves to the hillsides and forests for edible mushrooms something he laments as in his opinion children nowadays may not be able to distinguish the poisonous from the edible ones.
He also said that watercress abounded then in swampy areas which one can pick free without fear of being poisoned for the creeks and rivers were not so polluted.
His recollection made me remember my own childhood in a barrio in Ifugao. I recall several breakfasts of tinawon (native rice) and broiled dolog (mudfish) or fried yuyu (jojo) which my grandmother caught those same mornings from the payo (rice field) nearby. Dinners were often with boiled native shell foods like battikul, kulippo, aggudung, or tikkam, other insects/animals found in rice farms, or latud (a kind of taro leaves) my grandmother gathered from wherever the rice fields their ububbo (group of farmers helping each other) has worked. My grandmother also maintained a habal (a swidden farm by the mountainside) where she cultivates lapne (sweet potato), balatung (mongo), kuldi (peas) and sometimes gahhilang (corn). She would also often bring to the plates edible mushrooms from and other food from the forests. In special occasions and during harvests, the community would taste native chicken or native pig.
Nowadays, though, many of the native foods could not be tasted by the present generation. For instance, jojo no longer abound at the Strawberry Farm. In Ifugao, the battikul was replaced by the golden kuhol which according to some is edible but most wouldn’t dare because of its horrible look.
The native small clams were replaced by the giant ones which are nnot an indigenous specie. In urban La Trinidad and Baguio City, there are not much backyard poultry for native fowls, if not for lack of space and time to raise, it is because of fear of thieves or because the chickens might be poisoned anyway by the pesticides and insecticides if the house happens to be near a farm. In canaos and similar Cordilleran occasions, it is more often than not that the non-native pigs that are butchered.
I wonder if changes in the region’s biodiversity and culture are leading people to be contented with kaman-kanen-di-Igorot foods. If the trend continues, time will come that we may no longer call ourselves natives. We are what we eat, so it is said!
When I asked, he clarified that what he meant by “kaman kanen di Igorot” is that the menu in the restaurant tastes like native chicken. He would concede though that native chicken meat menu of Cordillerans is boiled. Whether it be the ‘pinikpik’ style or the ‘kolo’ style, as long as it is dressed through the fire and mixed with etag, it will surely make a soup so delicious that it would satisfy every single cell in the mouth and the esophagus before finding its place in the stomach. That is the real Cordilleran food, he concluded.
Simply to let the conversation prosper, I asked “Anya pay ngay nga agpaysu ti dadduma nga kanen ti Igorot?” He shared that when he was a growing up in La Trinidad, jojo (dojo loach) still abound the swamp area now better known as the Strawberry Farm. It is usually cooked deep-fried or boiled while wrapped with sugar-cane or banana leaves, he said.
He also recalled that kids then would troop by themselves to the hillsides and forests for edible mushrooms something he laments as in his opinion children nowadays may not be able to distinguish the poisonous from the edible ones.
He also said that watercress abounded then in swampy areas which one can pick free without fear of being poisoned for the creeks and rivers were not so polluted.
His recollection made me remember my own childhood in a barrio in Ifugao. I recall several breakfasts of tinawon (native rice) and broiled dolog (mudfish) or fried yuyu (jojo) which my grandmother caught those same mornings from the payo (rice field) nearby. Dinners were often with boiled native shell foods like battikul, kulippo, aggudung, or tikkam, other insects/animals found in rice farms, or latud (a kind of taro leaves) my grandmother gathered from wherever the rice fields their ububbo (group of farmers helping each other) has worked. My grandmother also maintained a habal (a swidden farm by the mountainside) where she cultivates lapne (sweet potato), balatung (mongo), kuldi (peas) and sometimes gahhilang (corn). She would also often bring to the plates edible mushrooms from and other food from the forests. In special occasions and during harvests, the community would taste native chicken or native pig.
Nowadays, though, many of the native foods could not be tasted by the present generation. For instance, jojo no longer abound at the Strawberry Farm. In Ifugao, the battikul was replaced by the golden kuhol which according to some is edible but most wouldn’t dare because of its horrible look.
The native small clams were replaced by the giant ones which are nnot an indigenous specie. In urban La Trinidad and Baguio City, there are not much backyard poultry for native fowls, if not for lack of space and time to raise, it is because of fear of thieves or because the chickens might be poisoned anyway by the pesticides and insecticides if the house happens to be near a farm. In canaos and similar Cordilleran occasions, it is more often than not that the non-native pigs that are butchered.
I wonder if changes in the region’s biodiversity and culture are leading people to be contented with kaman-kanen-di-Igorot foods. If the trend continues, time will come that we may no longer call ourselves natives. We are what we eat, so it is said!
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