Aeta Mangansi Chronicles

February 15, 2013

Prologue

After the last part of our comprehensive examination which was followed by our quick lunch, at around 12:00 noon, we left the San Carlos Seminary, Makati City via bus courtesy of the Holy Spirit Academy through the generosity of our professor, Fr. Eric Aldoviso.  This day, we headed to Capas, Tarlac where the Aeta-mangansi Tribe dwells. This three-day immersion was a part of our activities in our subject in Pastoral Sociology. As a class, we were hopeful that after weeks of tensions due to our preparation for our oral and written comprehensive examinations, we will be having a great break. It is not only to entice ourselves after the pressures we've encountered in our studies but to empower ourselves with newer insights about life  as we build connections with our Aeta-mangansi brethren up there somewhere on the mountain range in Central Luzon. 

Makikipamuhay kami-- it is immersion. Makikibabad kami panandali sa buhay-buhay nila upang matikman namin kung paano maging sila. This time hindi kami ang gagawa ng schedule... kami ang susunod sa schedule nila. This time, Hindi kami ang bida, kundi sila. We will try to follow the old path they walked on, we will listen to their story, we will try to reach the core of their soul... we will dance to the beat of their hearts.

12:00 Noon

Epifanio delos Santos Avenue, formerly known as Hi-way 54 which is widely known today as Edsa Avenue was 'bumper to bumper' that afternoon. Upon leaving the San Carlos Seminary, we were caught by the traffic immediately. Our bus driver opted to reroute to avoid the traffic jam. Instead of  pursuing our travel via Edsa, we made a turn to Pandacan area instead until we reached the North Express way. Upon passing through North Luzon Express Way (Nlex) at 2:30pm, only then that we had a smooth journey. But, there were still another few hours to travel.

Upon reaching Capas, Tarlac, we stop for a while in the palengke, a market place, to buy some supplies and food. Brothers Joseph and Renoir of the SSS congregation bought some pasalubong. Pasalubong are valuable items to be given away to those whom we will visit. This is a Filipino tradition that we keep. 

Joseph and Renoir distributed those pasalubong among us, SSS brothers, each of us will share those pasalubong to our respective foster families. This is our contribution to the food of our foster families while we stay with them,at least, for us not to be a burdensome for them: there's coffee, sugar, few canned foods and noodles. Our group, SSS brothers, brought also a cavan of rice, also to be given to our foster families.

It was already 5:00 in the afternoon when we reached the first part of our destination-- the SSpS sister who was our contact to bridge us with the tribe. They, the nuns, have been there for quite a long time for now since the eruption of Mount Pinatubo helping the several Aeta tribes who were once displaced to settle once more in their native land.

According to our original plan, we will be trekking the route going to the Aeta-mangansi Tribe. Aeta-mangansi Tribe is just one of the several tribes that you could find there in Capas, Tarlac. According to the SSpS sister, in Capas Tarlac there are about seven tribes living in different 'sitios' or places. Today, we are going to visit 'Sitio Caoayan' (Place of Bamboo) where the Aeta-mangansi Tribe dwells.

To go there by foot, usually, it will take about five hours of walk if there would be no stopovers. But for us, who are not professional mountaineers, maybe... in their rough estimation, we will be able to reach our destination in eleven hours. Gosh! It's already 6:00 pm when I wrote this, and most probably, if this plan will pursue, we will arrive there by the next morning without a good night sleep at all.

                                    

Luckily, the sister was so kind enough. She arranged a trip for us. She tried to contact her friend who live nearby to lift us up to the mountain. Her friend provided us with two 4x4 vans with trailers. Of course, we pay Php 4,000 for a back and forth trip, at least, to contribute for the gas expense.

See the picture below, there were almost 30 of us with our bags, packs and all. Imagine all of us being squeezed together just to fit into these vans.

                                     


6:30 PM

We start leaving the hut of SSpS sister. It's already getting darker. The first few minutes of our travel were smooth. We conveyed the dusty road. We were teasing and cracking jokes until the big bang just surprised us all. The wheel of the vehicle just touched the starting line of the rough road which shook us terribly. The driver told us, "our expedition has just begun." In the pale light of the headlight, he smiled. We shouted!

It's like a roller coaster ride on a very rough and dusty road. The path was too dark and the ride was always filled with surprises. Water literally splashed inside the trailer every time we crossed a river. We've encountered several channels of rivers, I think there were seven of them. I've been shouting on the tip of my lungs and so excitable that we always burst into laughter.


7:00 PM

Thirty agonizing minutes had passed and the van where I was in stopped. The driver went off the van and checked the radiator with a flash light. Later, he watered it. This was a routine to spare the engine from over heating.

For few minutes, we lift ourselves from the van and took some stretching. The place was too eerie. Everywhere, where ever I point my flashlight, my own eyes would reached barren arid land filled with sand and boulders. Beyond where I stand, there's always silence. It was the ambiance of a barren forest. It was summer, the water in the river was almost still. What I can only hear were our own murmurs. We were asking if this place was still a part of our country. We can't believe that the Aetas can survive all these.

Darkness totally succumb us and we need to hurry up. They are now waiting for us.The journey continued. I really enjoyed it. We've been shouting every time the car would run over a crevasse. I almost lose my voice. But the bumping, the splashing of water and the biting of unknown insects did not stop.

We are now in the middle of nowhere. What I can only see were the countless stars above us. The sky was so clear, the moon had shone brightly that night. Our trek, were guided by the ancient god, Orion; and by the small bear, the little dipper, who look at us below from the heaven above with their fellow constellations.

We've been trekking the path of Mt. Pinatubo's lahar (pyroplastic material) and the debris still lurks in the place. Now, there were more boulders as big as houses that were rushed down by the past volcanic eruption that hit this place. And we also went through a cogon (tall grasses) area where our vehicles passed through. It seems that two hour jouney was almost a glimpse of eternity. I feel that it's almost endless. Maybe because of the discomfort at my back and my butt was really aching so terribly. Imagine, being seated on a two iron parallel bars and being shaken by the rough road and your butt keeps on bumping to the iron rails every time. Golly! That really hurts.

                                     

8:00 PM

Halfway, about more than an hour of our journey, Father Art, a priest from the diocese of Capas met us along our way. We already reached the sitio where he have his chapel. He's been driving a 4x4 Hummer. He was so worried because it's already late in the evening. Aetas usually accept visitors before the sun sets. It was already 8:00 pm and we still need to travel for another hour. There's no celfon signal to transmit our message to confirm our arrival for our stay for the night; nor message to say that we can't make it for now. So definitely, a celfon, for now, was useless. He courteously invited us to spend the night in his little chapel. Our guide, Kuya Reynan, respectfully told him that he was so sure, deriving from his past experience with the Aetas, that the natives were already waiting for us. After the consultation, Fr. Art was relieved, he finally gave us his blessings and his assurance that he will be assisting us if in case that there's no available place for us to sleep for the night. He instructed our drivers to do him a favor, to drive us back to him if problem regarding our accommodation would arise. From there, we  continued our journey.

We passed through a burning mountain. It was a bizarre sight. The burning mountain was like hell... it was burning endlesslly and it was devouring everything what its fang-like blazing fires had reached. The diver told us that kaingeros usually do this so that young grass would start growing again. But the damage extended up to burning young looking trees and other crops. There were rumors that has been circulating, there were enkgwentros, battle between the government army and other leftist forces. But amid the razing of the forest fire, it seems that there were no trace of these. Despite the terror it brought us, it was a serene scene of oblivion... of moving forward in hope of greener pasture.

9:00 PM

We finally made it.

Well, 9:00 pm was too dark and too late already for the Aetas. But still, upon entering their sitio, we heard continuous hand claps and there were bonfires around the place. Their place was astounding from afar. They are really waiting for us. They stayed and knew that we are coming.

The moment we alight from the vehicle they welcome us with their hand woven necklace, a lei made of seeds, as a gesture of friendship. Children were lined into two, and they continuously clap their hands as we enter the gathering place.

The woman in light blue sleeve is the preparatory teacher of the children. She's been helping the community for a long time since she went up to Sitio Caoayan some years ago. She stayed there to teach the kids during weekdays and went home during weekends, but during the rainy days where the river rises and when its current gets ferocious, she usually stays and waits patiently until the time she can get home by walking, or when able, by a van which seldom visits the isolated place. Usually, she stays for months until the rainy season ceased.  
                                    

As soon as we gathered around the bon fire, as part of welcoming us, they immediately taught us their native dance. For first timers like us, we were glad to know that the dance is their ritual of driving away bad spirits and to protect us from illness. Their tribal dance reflects their tribal culture.

The children held our hands. With their smiles, we realized that they want us to draw nearer to the bon fire. All of us heeded to their invitation. We gather around the fire. The elders had shown to us some basic steps. We follow, and tried to dance to their beat. Even it was hard at first, we danced and clapped with them. After some time of trials and errors we found ourselves enjoying the night with them. The bonfire was warm. It was as warm as their hearts. Instantly, we felt  a connection between them and us.

That same night, the lady teacher, introduced us to our foster parent. Everyone of us was so excited. I almost forgot my aching back and butt. Still wet and covered with dust we-- I, myself and Robert, were accompanied by our foster father, Tatay Felipe, to his home. With his flashlight we headed to their hut and we met there his family.

Brother Robert, SSS was with me. Together, we will be staying with Tatay Felipe's family. Well, his hut was still on the process of being constructed. There's no roof yet on the half part of the house so you can see the moonlight shining above us. Robert handed to him our pasalubong. He was so gracious. The family was so very happy.

Our foster mother started to fix the plates. The entire family invited us for a late dinner. Robert and I accepted the invitation. They told us that they've been waiting for us since the morning. The served rice already smells like its been starting to be overcooked. They gave each of us a plate of rice and they serve boiled  'cardis' or in tagalog 'kadyos.' Cardis was boiled and some salt were added to taste. They were so delicious.

I was so touched to know that that they've been waiting for us since that early morning. They were so happy to see us. After our meal, we listened to their stories until we finally run-out of kerosene. With a flashlight, Br. Robert and I went to our bed. It was made of strips of kawayan (bamboo). It's been so good to stretch my aching back there. After a while, Robert was already snoring. It took me a little while to find my most comfortable position. Before I closed my eyes, I still heard them murmuring. I pretend to be asleep already, our foster father and mother, Tatay Felipe and Nanay, carefully put mosquito net over us. Then everything went into silence.



February 16, 2013

4:00 AM

I jerked! I was awaken by this fat pig who roams around the place as free as a dog. She licked my foot which I stretched unknowingly over the sawali wall while sleeping.  She sounded, 'oink, oink' and I almost kicked her face as I felt her cold tongue licking my exposed foot. I thought it was the aswang from the Philippine horror movies who was in the guise of a black swine, but obviously it's not. It made me grin.

I looked into my watch, its only four o'clock in the morning but I could already hear the sound of someone who was sweeping outside our hut. I can already hear that someone was already preparing something in the paminggalan (kitchen). And later, I could already smell the cooked rice. It was cold that morning so I still linger for a while on the papag (bed). Beside me was Robert who was still snoring by that time. Later, I already heard voices outside so I decided to stood up and meet them. They were gathered around the cooking area. They have been extending their hands to warm themselves.

                              
5:00 AM

Later, Br. Robert already woke up. They served us sweetened coffee. It was so sweet that you would remember the arnibal of taho (soya milk) which I also love to eat since my childhood. We realized that in the morning, they just have coffee and no bread. In times that there's no supply, they just have nothing.
Br. Robert run to the nearby sari-sari store, he bought some bread for us to share together. He also bought chichiria (junk foods) for the little boys and girls. That morning, since I did not have a share of the limited bread that we had, I just ate junkfoods together with the children. We just prefer to give the bread to our foster family.

                                      

6:00 AM

It was our first day so Robert and I went around the place with the children. They toured us around. Outside, we also met our classmates touring around with their foster brothers and sisters.

Some of the Aetas were farmers. With their carabao, they leave early as they go to their farm. Usually, they  tilt a part of the mountain area which they among themselves agreed to be divided among them. Their entire ancestral domain is so vast that tribes of Aetas share this according to each specific tribes who claim specific territory. Aeta mangansi have different ways of earning a living. Some, aside from farming, they also alternate catching fish in the river banks surrounding the entire area. Their farm area and fishing area are somewhat a little distance away from the community. Everyone knew each of the household's territory. There were harvest everyday of banana blossoms, but this bountiful harvest last only during dry seasons.

That early morning, the farmers still managed to talked with us. By the way, they can speak Tagalog also. Other languages that they can use  aside from their native tongue which is Zambal are Ilokano,  and Capampangan. Men usually learn to speak these languages from doing business with the unat (Tagalog and other low land dwellers). They usually, in their tribe, still practices barter trading. A sack of banana blossom could be traded with a kilo of rice.

How much it cost for them to afford a kilo of rice? It's Php 100.00 pesos per kilo. They usually exchange their crops such as banana blossoms which only cost for Php 8.00 pesos a kilo for this. There were already buyers who usually pick up their crops. They visit the place during dry seasons from time to time. 

                                     

My morning walk has led me to visit my classmates with their foster families. The Saint Paul Brothers, Lawrence and Bryan were staying to a hut near to us. Br. Rey, also an SSP, with a child that morning who happens to be her foster sister on the pic below, was also visiting other houses. Bryan and Lawrence were so busy cooking for their family. That morning, they prepared, I think, noodles with corned beef.

Br. Rey was so happy taking care of his foster sister. The other siblings were also following him. I saw him that morning with his foster brothers and sisters near a poso, a water artillery where he treated them a very nice bath. They played with the soap suds and make bubbles out of the shampoo. And after the good bath the children ran immediately and played again on the dry sand. I saw how Br. Ray scratched his head at the sight.

ON AETA MARRIAGE: 

Usually, the Aetas get married early. When a man, usually 14 of age already know how to till the soil and farm by himself, then he is already capable of finding the woman of his dreams. The woman who usually of the same age, when she already starts to menstruate, she's already considered capable of bearing a child and a candidate for every unmarried young man Aeta of any tribe.

They have a very different way of courtship. An adorer, a young man, would just throw a small stone to the breast of the young woman. This would catch the attention of the woman. Usually the woman would stop and then the man would embrace her. That's it. With that simple gesture, they were considered married. The act of throwing stone and embracing the woman is the way of showing man's affection to the not expecting young woman. The young woman can not resist because the tribe's culture already embraced that action as a tradition from their ancestors. For them, a woman being thrown with a small stone is considered married already. There's no long courtship like in the Tagalogs. What follows is the settlement. The elders of the tribes with the parents of the suitor and the young woman deliberate the amount of the dowry. The young man can take the young woman with him as her lawful wife upon the giving of the dowry to the parent of the woman. Dowry usually depends on the class of the Aeta. If the aeta belongs to the elders of the community, the man usually gives a higher dowry.

For the Aeta-mangansi tribe, a dowry may include a carabao, goats, a hut to live in, chickens, pigs and they do not forget coffee and sugar. For this tribe, coffee and sugar were so important. Well, they just love to sip it every now and then. My foster father, Tatay Felipe, told us that they started to love coffee during their stay in the resettlement called area, a place called Kalangitan upon the outbreak of Mount Pinatubo eruption. About the sardines, they hardly eat it because they are not more on fish.

FAMILY LIFE

Brother Robert also make friends with some of our neighboring families . Usually, each family have eight children. Infants are common in the sitio we visited. This Aeta community in Sitio Caoayan is composed of seventy (70) families. The Unat,  the lowland dwellers like the Capampangan called this Aeta community as Aeta-mangansi because of  their way of speaking. They usually utter a 'z' sound when speaking. Mangansi is thus pronounced as ManganZi. They are not nomadic like the Dumagats, another clan of Aetas which I usually visited in the Sierra Madre mountain ranges. The Aeta Mangansi stays in a specific sitio like the other Aetas of the Central Luzon. Sitio Caoayan, Capas, Tarlac is situated in the area of Mount Pinatubo.

8:00 AM

Well, coffee and bread does not traditionally go together in the breakfast of any Aeta-mangansi. When we got back to the our foster family's hut, brunch was already served. The rice was already cooked and the Payless noodles (a brand of instant noodles) with  cardiz were already boiled. That morning, Robert and I decided to eat whatever food they will served us. Indeed, we had a very organic nutritious food. To spice up the breakfast, I bought from the nearby sari-sari store (a variety store) a bottle of bagoong (fish sauce) from Pangasinan. Robert, helped our foster mother to prepare the meal. Our foster father lead us into a prayer, then, we ate the sumptuous food.

To reciprocate their act of generosity, Robert and I volunteered to wash the soiled dishes. I fetched a pail of water from the nearby pozo and start pouring water over the dishes and used utensils while Robert scrub them clean. Brother Felix, our nearby neighbor, in one of our kwentuhan (talk) noticed how this tribe managed to keenly keep their cooking utensils. He praised them for their diligence. His foster mother, a mother of three, was for him, a good house keeper.

9:00 AM 


Today, our foster father wanted to bring us along to their farmland. But before that, our foster brother taught us first how to use bow and arrow. This is in case that we could find a herd of baboy damo (wild boar) which usually roams the place. Before we came last night, we heard that one of the tribesmen hunted down two baboy damo. Some part were sold to the Unat and the rest were distributed evenly to the rest of the community. In their small community, they still practice the spirit of bayanihan (volunteerism) and the spirit of sharing. They treat one another as family. If you would noticed, there's no fence surrounding every houses. The dingding (wall) were only made of sawali (wooven bamboo). The dogs, the swines, cats, chickens and and piglets  of their neighbors, no matter how nuisance they were sometimes, they just let it roaming. I noticed that they don't hurt small creatures. They know how to respect each family's property and nature.

Well, this was a sort of review of my arrow marksmanship in Scouting. Since this arrow set was a handmaid, my foster brother taught me how to position my hand. I noticed that they use a multi-pointed arrow head. He said that its good for hunting birds. After some trials, I finally hit the target. 

9:30 AM

GASAK

By this time, each of our foster fathers were already bringing us to their farmland. They asked us to help in their gasak. Gasak means harvesting. This time, they ensure that we already ate our merienda before going to their area. But in normal days, they usually go to their farmlands before the break of dawn.

The sun was shining so brightly. You can already feel the scorching heat when we started walking. Robert and I were together with Bryan and Lawrence. Since my foster father was related to their foster family they have the same farmland. Along the way, we met some of our classmates also with their foster fathers, foster brothers and foster sisters. All of us were going out from the community and were heading to different directions.

To help them out, I brought the ax plus my camera which usually hangs with me. My foster father and brother brought along the bow and arrow and the rice that we would be cooking on the mountain. Lawrence and Bryan have a good time walking. They just came from a climb. Last week they reached Pico de Loro. Well, even before they have a good exercise and training so this hike was a piece of cake for them. While for me and Robert, it was a little bit terrible. My last mountain climb at the Sierra Madre was already two years ago. Robert, even though he hails from Lucban, Quezon and living right at the foot Mt. Banahaw is not a mountain boy at all. But still, we tried to persevere. We were inspired by our little foster sisters who went with us.

It was a very long walk. We traversed the mountains, the rivers and the arid grassland as if we were tracing the path of Mount Pinatubo's volcanic remnants. Along the way, we heard from our foster father's so many beautiful stories about their ancestral land. Before the Mount Pinatubo eruption, their land was so fertile. Everything grew abundantly. The mountains were densely covered with green wild forest. There were different kinds of birds. There were different kinds of plants with their very exotic flowers. There were different kinds of animals. But they were all long gone by now. Today, everywhere you go, you can see nothing but Mt. Pinatubo's ashes. The once  forest densed mountains were now covered only with wild grasses. The rivers are now filled with volcanic stones. It will take another more centuries before this land will become fertile again. These were his good memories. In the rustic tone of his voice, I heard hope.

Since it's summer time, the river water was low. You can walk through it. I remember the Montalban river where you can hop into as you trek the range of Sierra Madre. But the Montalban river is now a murky and already polluted because of the piggeries which surround the river channels of Montalban. Unlike the Montalban river, this river is clearer and more refreshing. I could hardly leave the river to wash my self again and again against the scorching heat of the sun. Little fishes like biya swims freely. The children, our foster sisters and brothers, who accompanied us like to catch the small fishes we usually saw swimming in the clear river. They have been playing with this little fresh water creatures but when our foster father said to drop them to the river, they obeyed without complaining.

Their farmland is on the top of the mountain. At first, I was a little bit wondering why. My foster father told us that by maintaining a farm in a rugged and high terrain protects the crops from the damages that would cause by roaming herd of crop eating goats, wild boar and birds of prey. Their farm is in the middle of the mountain range, in the center of a caldera, that somehow protects their harvest from devastating typhoon which usually hit Central Luzon.


11:00 AM

On the top of the mountain which we climbed, they build a hut where clouds passes by. There, they usually gather their harvest. One of our foster brothers started to gather dry twigs. My foster father started collecting bamboo shoots, later he cut and fashioned it accordingly. Into it, he inserted a rolled bamboo leave and then carefully place the washed rice inside. Then he put some water. This is how they cook rice traditionally inside a bamboo without utensil.

During the World War II, when the Japanese soldiers invaded the Central Luzon their tribe were also forced to vacate their respective areas. They were forced to leave their homes and they went hiding into the jungle. What they brought only with them were some of their handful of crops and some rice.  As a clan, they went into the deep of the forest. They traversed the mountain to escape the eyes of the Japanese. They cooked rice this way so that could easily escape and leave without a trace of their tracks. They were afraid of the Japanese soldiers because they heard that they were ruthlessly killing people with their gun and ensuring that whom they shoot down dead with another swing from their sharp bayoneta (the blade on the tip of their guns).

We were all thirsty. It's so nice that our foster brother brought also with him a canister of cold clean water from a nearby bukal, a spring; aside from bringing in some dry twigs. Our little foster sisters gathers some of the cardiz also known as kadyos and boiled them inside the bamboo. Later we have our cardiz snack.

12:00 Noon

Lunch time. Together we have delicious rice roll. Well, this was the rice that was cooked inside the bamboo. Cardiz was boiled together with some noodles for our viand. Both the rice and the boiled cardiz with noodles tasted and smelled sweet because of the aromatic characteristic of the bamboo shoot and the banana leaves.

The hut was on the top of the mountain. You can hear the wind blowing. The cloud literally caressed the hut. It's so inviting to sleep. Lawrence, Bryan and Robert took a nap... besides, we had a very long walk. Our poster father insist that we should rest for while for we'll be having another long walk back to our hut in the community center.

I was a little bit excited to see where they get their crops. I followed them bringing with me my treasured ax. It was another 30 minutes walk and another mountain to climb. After that struggling half an hour trail, I finally reached the summit where they gather their crops. They are now preparing the mountain for the planting season. They are now starting to dry the seeds of corns which they harvested last planting season. Corn, as they say, withstand the barrenness of the mountain. It survives even without rain. The morning dew would water it until it bears fruit.

Then they took from me the ax which I treasured most in this journey. My foster father started to tear  into smaller pieces a log which was previously cut by my foster brother. I tried it to boast my axmanship in Scouting but my exhaustion almost failed me. I chopped a piece but, unluckily, it went directly to the cliff. Another one, I bolted with my full force, sadly that one went down into the drain. And the last sway, the arrowhead almost threw itself from the handle. Tatay Felipe and my foster brothers and sisters boasted into laughter. I also laughed. My foster father took the ax from me. He patiently fixed it by pushing some kindlings to tighten the ax's head so that he could fix it to the ax's handle. With total control, he started to chop the solid plank. And into my amazement, his small efforts took into effect. So there's the technique. I called it gentleness and consistency.

My little foster sisters gathered some fresh flowers. They asked me to offer these to their sacred place. For Aetas, a sacred place honors their ancestral deities. They also have a strong believe in God. God for them, as I understood, is in nature. With this little children, I learn from them to honor the God in nature. They told me that their mountains are not their mountains... it is the mountains of God. The mountains of God is for all. When you are hungry and went to pass by any of their farmland, you can get food to refresh yourself. You can get even without asking but by making sure that you will leave some for others. I then realized why they do not get all the fruits in the trees, or all the cardiz in their garden. They leave some for others.

It is the same reason my foster father leave a sack of panggatong, wood fuel. He told me, it is for somebody who would be needing this who will pass by. I just nod, it's clear to me that nobody could easily move that log where we chunk our wood fuel and at the same time, it would be impossible to chunk it down without an ax because we will bring it down with us as we go home. I nod again, I silently admire his goodness. He had just shown care for others.

4:00 PM

It was already 4:00 pm when we arrived in the community center. We have a very long walk down from that high mountain. We were all exhausted. We heard that Br. Joseph Casiao, SSS, fainted before reaching their destination while Ronald, SSS, had been throwing up badly. Their foster father, who is a Bethel Church pastor, decided to cancel their flight for Brs. Joseph and Ronald to rest. 

Brs. Leo, myself, and Robert, already in the community center, still managed to mingle with the people who are now returning from their farmlands. Many among them were carrying sacks of banana blossoms. We've seen how they transact with the buyer.

BARTER TRADING

The buyer usually weigh all the sacks of crops. Banana blossoms were bought for Php 8.00 per kilo. Some sacks were above ten kilos. Mostly, between 12 and 13 kilos. An Aeta murmured to me that the buyer will be only paying 10 kilos per sack, the rest, the other two or three kilos would be free. It signalled to me that the weighing was only to ensure that each sacks amounts to 10 kilos of harvests. He was so sad. I did not react right away.
When the banana blossoms were gathered together, the buyer will start to clean it. He will remove the non-edible saps and stalks. Then after undergoing some little quality control, he will lift it to the market. In the market, the merchant will drop the harvested banana blossoms to another merchant who would distribute the harvests to other vegetable stall as far as Divisoria, Manila. The price of banana blossoms would compete with other harvests of the same kind coming from different areas of Central Luzon. That season, there were many supply of banana blossoms, there's only an average demand for it. In order for the merchant to sell it in a low price, he also needed to buy it in a low price for him to profit from it.



THE MERCHANT

The one who owns the sari-sari store, the two trailer vans, and the buyer are all of the same person, he is Kuya Nuk. Aside from the two sari-sari stores, he also owns a nipa hut for his two unat caretakers who tend his goats. Kuya Nuk, owns a house and a junkshop business in the lowland area. He usually go up to the mountain only during dry season. He paid in advance his caretakers, Php 1,000.00 pesos per month, if in case that he could not make a climb when rainy season comes in.

Rainy season is a little bit problem with the Aetas. They cannot cross the current of running waters to bring down their kalakal, their crops. There's no other place to trade their kalakal so they rot in the mountain. They don't have rice so they resort only to root crops. Children going down for studies usually were trapped by the high ridged river water. The parish priest, Fr. Art, usually take care of the children who cannot go home because of the bad weather. He tends them in a shanty which he established for them. Now, school children are being taken care there during school days. At the start of the school week, their parents send food with them for three days, from Monday to Wednesday. Fr. Art, filled the rest of the two days. He helps in feeding them during Thursdays and Fridays.


FR. ART, THE GREAT PRIEST

One Aeta told us the greatness of this priest. He's been so instrumental in organizing the Aeta communities. Now, he's been planning of establishing a small scale cottage industry. They are planning to start with banana chips since there are many bananas around the vicinity that would be a great idea to start with. Aetas were supportive about his proposal. They have been starting contributing in building the edifice for that small scale business for all. I asked about what they did contributed, some answered: pawid to be used as walls, bamboos for the structure, cogon grasses as roofing materials-- all of these were materials for building the working hut for banana chipping. They are now praying for the acquiring of the machine and everybody was so hopeful about it. It will somehow ensure their daily living during wet season.

5:00 PM

Brother Felix and Leo promised that they will cook for our foster families. From the mountain, Br. Felix harvested some vegetables for his ingredients. We ask Kuya Nuk to buy us some pork from the market that morning which was delivered to us that same afternoon. Br. Felix cooked a very delicious viand which we generously shared with our foster families.

7:00 PM

CULTURAL NIGHT

The Aetas-mangansi invited all of us to a cultural night. Since this is the last night that we will be staying, they set a program for all of us students. Together we shared our stories. We laugh, we cry, and we were all touched by the parting words of their chairman. In a very fluent Tagalog, he uttered this:

"Magkakaiba man tayo ng kulay, kulot man ang aking buhok at unat naman ang sa iyo, pare-pareho tayong nilikha ng Diyos. Iisa lang ang dugong nananalaytay sa iyong pagkatao. Iyon ay ang dugo ng Diyos na sumasaiyo at sumasaakin din. Dahil doon tayo ay iisang dugo... dahil doon tayo ay magkakapatid... "

"Even though we have different colors, my hair being curly while yours being straight, still we are all created by the same God which you worship and I worship. We only have one blood running in the vein of our humanity. That is the blood of God that dwells within you and dwells within me. Because of that, together, we only have one blood... because of that, together, we are brothers and sisters..."

Children were with us. They called us from our houses and have brought us to where the bon fire was.

Br. Clyde was asked to tell a story. He can't helped but amused the children with the story of St. Pedro Calungsod. The entire community listened attentively. He even made the audience participated. We clapped and say the name of Pedro Calungsod.

The elders taught us how to dance. They did it elegantly. The steps were a little bit hard to follow because their dance steps focus on the knee. You need to lower your body by bending your knees. Then in 4/4 beat you need to lift yourself up and down again and again.

It was a night of culture where the old inspires the young with their beats and steps. The young tenderly love their elders. They listen to them. They follow them They give them the highest honor by acknowledging their contributions to the community. No Aeta-mangansi would do his stuff without the consent of the elders.

The children watched seriously their elders. They could be a batch of new generation-- no more bahag (g-strings) but they are still the same loving Aeta youth that the elders boast about. I agree that we can not hamper their development. They were just some 50 years behind us but they are, as I observed, gearing also toward a lift to the next century. They are so receptive, they can easily adopt. They can appreciate everything that was brought by the modern world. They want to learn how to take pictures, they want to listen to MP3s being played on a celfon, they want to be accurate in knowing time and the current date with a digital watch. There were so many questions from these youth that we diligently answered. There were so many hopes that we saw in their bare eyes that could only be answered when they reached the place where we are going back, but they cannot leave their families yet. They were still young, but the young boys and girls were already dreaming of finishing their studies in the big cities or land for a job where opportunities would give them a chance. The young girls were also afraid of getting married early and be a mother of many children.  Perhaps, I could not understand them totally but I am praying that their natural goodness to all God's creation would not be destroyed by their sincere desire for cultural change.

We also grab the opportunity to bid farewell and say thank you to our foster families. Br. Bryan, using Br. Clyde's camera capture perfectly this last bonding moment. How I wish that we could send these pictures to them. They said, they are really dying to see themselves being photographed with us. They were so happy to have us as their visitors. I admit that I really learned from them.

Brs. Joseph and Ronald

Brs. Clyde and Rey

Br. Renoir

Brs. Bryan and Lawrence

I, myself, and Br. Robert

Crying moment?

Young generation of Aeta-Mangansi
performing a song.

Brs. Franz Joseph and Jonathan

Brs. Renoir and Marco Divine

Br. Jake and the ever missing-in-action Jaylord! 

Brs. Robert Leus and Aldrin

Brs. Tiboy and Jober

Brs. Frankie and Ruben

Brs. Dean Jerome and one of the Narvasa Brothers

Dancing time again.

See, were improving.

10:00 PM

That was the best night we ever had with the Aeta Mangantsi. Most of us still lingered for a while and have nice chat over coffee with our foster parents. Tomorrow, Brother Robert and I decided to cook for our foster family. We will try to imitate their noodles and rice.


February 17, 2013

12:00 AM

I was awaken by a commotion from the hut of our neighbor. The foster father of Brs. Felix and Leo was holding furiously his bow and arrow. They were whispering. The man was so angry and the woman was lighting where the man was facing his arrow. The were talking in their native language. It seems that they were looking for a certain dog. The woman was complaining about the lost sugar.I closed my eyes and smiled. Tomorrow, I will know from Brs. Felix and Leo.


4:00 AM

I was awaken by the extreme cold not by the notorious snoring of my dear brother Robert. Since I can't sleep anymore, I just went out and see the the entire resting community under the faint light cast by the moon. Above me, there were countless numbers of stars. I can see the black pigs-- the mother swine with her babies resting silently under our bed. One dog barked at me and upon recognizing me, wagged his tail and came nearer to me. Each hut were glimmering under the moonlit. They were all so simple. Some even do not have doors. Aeta mangansi were so simple. They were hard working people. They cancelled all their activities just to accommodate all of us. They were so humble that they gave to us the best sleeping beds, the most comfortable mats and even their very precious mosquito nets.




5:30

Me and Robert started to cook. We were assisted by our foster mother. She made a fire for us. From the sari-sari store, I bought some instant noodles which they like and I also bought a can of meatloaf. I gathered the past night's cardiz that we left over. Mix it together and we had our boiled noodles. She cooked the rice for us. Well, this is now the last morning that we will be staying with our foster family. For the last time, we prayed together. This time it's quite touching. I know, the children, our foster brothers and sisters, knew that we were about to leave.


7:00

I sat near the open fireplace. This would be the last moment where I can chat with the Aetas. Some neighbors of my foster father were dropping by to see us. They were farmers with their carabao on their way later to their farmlands.

Robert was already at the poso to take his bath. I decided to stay with my foster father. I want to listen to their conversations. They were speaking in their native dialect. Somewhat, I could understand them through their gestures. They've been talking about the incoming election. That somebody would do the campaign in few days time.

My foster father explained to me that politicians usually make vain promises to them every election season but none among those promises became a reality.  Some years ago, one politician promised them a concrete high way passing their area. They were so hopeful about it because their products could be traveled easier going to the city centers but until now they are still hoping.

"What we want brother is equality. That they would buy our crops in just price. Kasi naman, binabarat lagi kami. Buong maghapon kami sa bukid, tapos bibilhin lang ng palugi ang aming mga produkto. Pero wala kaming magawa... kumakapit na lang kami sa patalim."


8:00 AM

Robert and I were already packing our things. Robert and I could not help but to decide to leave our things that could be useful to them behind. Robert leave his shirts to our foster brothers, his junk foods to the children, and his favorite jacket to our foster father. As if he was announcing and giving his final testament to each and everyone. I also did the same, since that was already on my plan. I also left my jacket to our nursing foster sister, my favorite hiking watch to my foster father, my bedsheet to my foster mother, my stuffs to my little brothers and sisters. At the end, we have a bag so light to carry with us.
Sharing to others was a feeling of self-emptying. We leave almost everything behind and we filled ourselves with joyful memories of our foster families. Before we leave our foster family's hut, we hugged each one of them. Our foster mother was crying. Our foster sisters and brothers were so silent. No one among them say a word. Our foster father, wearing the jacket of Robert and my watch on his left arm was handling to us their patani seeds which they harvested yesterday as their pasalubong for us to be given to our community way back in Manila. Both of us were so thankful. We know how much important to them those seeds were.Our foster father and brothers already carried our bags for us. The entire family were waving their hand as we look back to see them from afar. We had a good picture taking since yesterday and up to this morning but this moment, seeing them waving their goodbye, struck my heart more. I wish I could come back to deliver to them personally the pictures they always wanted to see.


9:00 AM

End of the line. We are now all on board. It's time to bid our final goodbye for now.The engine of the two 4x4 trailer vans were already started. For the last time our foster father hugged me. It was so warm and so sincere. I almost cry.

"Bumalik lang kayo, aantayin namin kayo..."

"Please be back, we will be waiting for you..." Those words still linger inside my mind up to now. The pictures... as I stare each of them again and again bring me back to those sweet and colorful encounter. Those were the last few words of our foster father. I really missed him. I really missed my foster family. I know I left a part of my heart to them. I know I'll be coming back in days or even years to come.

Till we meet again!


Den Mar