Category Archives: culture

Lake Sebu: Home of the peace-loving T’bolis

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The cool breeze of the night tickled me to sleep like a baby making me feel at home at the tribal house of the T’bolis of Lake Sebu, South Cotabato. The moon then bade farewell. The sun’s rays woke me up hugging me with its warmth. I peeked through the window and I saw serenity.

Lake Sebu South Cotabato

The Cultureight adventurers got up and fixed the pillows and blankets that were lent to us during the night.

The Teacher

Oyog “Maria” Todi, our host, greeted us with a warm smile. Maria is a mom, a teacher, and a leader in her community. She passes the traditions that she inherited from their ancestors through the School of Living Traditions.

The teacherI was overjoyed when the kids performed their unique dances to the beat of the t’nonggong and the rhythm of the hegelung. Thank God that their rich culture is still alive even in this age of digitization. Here’s a video which I took and reported as a feature on Inquirer.net back in 2009:

The Living Treasure

Aside from Maria, we met another T’boli whose life was dedicated in weaving dreams resulting to exotic designs of the T’nalak (T’boli cloth). Lang Dulay earned the National Commission for Culture and the Arts’ Gawad sa Manlilikha ng Bayan (National Living Treasure Award) in 1998 due to her unwavering service to her community.

We felt privileged to meet her in her hut where her students were weaving. Biologically, she’s old but her dedication makes her young. I asked her a few questions which her grandson translated. She spoke firmly and clearly in her native tongue. It may be foreign to me but I saw her sincerity. Here’s a transcript of my chat with her:

Trip@dora: Gaano kahalaga ang T’nalak sa buhay po ninyo? (How significant is T’nalak weaving in your life?)

Lang Dulay (as translated by her grandson): Walang saysay ang buhay ng isang babaeng T’boli kung hindi sila gumawa ng T’nalak mula noon hanggang ngayon. (Life has no meaning for a T’boli woman if she’s not weaving T’nalak. T’nalak weaving gives meaning to her life since then until now).

Her answer was short yet powerful. Indeed, their lives were weaved in preserving their culture and arts.

The Last Princess

What goes around, comes around. The good you do comes back to you. And this was what happened to Boi (Princess) Diwa Ofong, the T’boli princess who lives in Brgy. Lamdalag, Lake Sebu.

Despite being bedridden, the princess was still in her regal form adorned with gold trinkets. Her bed with canopy showed her royalty. She’s under the care of the 67 year-old Dway Lumen.

“She and the other people around me take care of me because of what I’ve done when I was still strong,” said the 76 year-old Boi Diwa as translated by Myrna Pula, the T’boli cluster head of the NCCA who assisted us.

We were surprised when Pula disclosed that Dway Lumen was the second wife of the Datu. It’s not telenovela but real life: The second wife takes care of the first wife. Wow! How selfless. Boundaries were broken. Boi Diwa didn’t say, “Ako legal wife!”

Pula related to us that Boi Diwa is a heroine of women and a champion of peace.

“She used to be a peacemaker and a community advisor when she was still strong. She settled disputes in the community,” shared Pula.

Lake Sebu was so rich not only with its natural resources but also with its culture. The stories of these women were inspiring. My immersion with the T’bolis totally changed my perspective about Mindanao as a war-torn area as mistakenly mentioned by some journalists in the media. Generalizing the whole island was so wrong.

Serenity lives in Lake Sebu, South Cotabato, the home of the peace-loving T’bolis.

***

This is my entry to the 13th Pinoy Travel Bloggers’ Blog Carnival this November, entitled, “Mindanao Bliss” and hosted by Olan Emboscado of TheTravelTeller.

Special thanks to Ms. Charisse Aquino Tugade of Cultureight.com for inviting us to experience a different side of Mindanao. 

Vietnam: Where motorcycles rule!

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Photo by Izah Morales

In the Philippines, the jeepney is considered as the king of the road. But in Vietnam, the two-wheeled outnumbers the four-wheeled vehicle. Motorcycles rule the streets.

Prior to our arrival, I’ve anticipated the numerous motorcycles on the road as other blogs told. Seeing them for real was surreal.

Most Vietnamese prefer owning a motorbike rather than a car due to limited space in their homes. Only big hotels or companies have car parks.

Price is also a factor. Our tour guide related that one can buy the cheapest motorbike at $250 (Php 10,500) or VND5 million. He also said that, one can tell whether a Vietnamese is rich or poor just by looking at the motorbike.

Photo by Izah Morales

Since majority of the residents own a motorbike, they rarely use public transportation. Public buses are few. We didn’t even experience riding one since we just explored Ho Chi Minh City by foot. That’s where the excitement was—Street Crossing.

Photo by Izah Morales

It was like saying hello to death with one wrong step. I think I’d die if I weren’t with my folks. I would not have anyone to hold onto. I had to squeeze Mama or Papa’s arm whenever we’re crossing the streets. Death defying! In every direction, in a blink of an eye, motorcycles were everywhere.

Nonetheless, crossing the street and observing the motorcycles are a must-do/ must-experience when in Vietnam. Why? It’s free. And what do you get by observing them? You’d get to know their lifestyle and culture.

One example was a woman driving a motorbike in skirt and in heels. Too bad, my camera didn’t capture the shot. But what did it tell me: Women empowerment. Equality. Some may raise an eyebrow. Meanings and contexts are subjective. And for me, that’s how I see it.

Here are other photos that show how Vietnamese rely on their motorbikes:

  It’s simply amazing how they can carry the sacks without dropping them.
Photo by Izah Morales

Waiting for their turn.

Crackers, anyone?

Photo by Izah Morales

Be Vegan. A Xe Loi or a Motorcart carries sacks of vegetables.

I almost forgot but remembered after publishing this: Of course, I didn’t let the chance pass to experience riding a motorbike in Vietnam. It was an exhilarating ride from Can Tho City to our homestay in Cai Rang Village. I’d reserve that story for another post.

Travel Notes:

To cross successfully, you have to walk straight. Don’t stop in the middle of the road even if they’re coming to your direction. The drivers will be the one to avoid you. Or if you still have the fears, you can ask the guards to guide you.

Best Spot: Sit in the park near Ben Thanh Market. The rotonda is a very busy area especially in the afternoon.

Hire a motorbike: You can experience riding a motorbike too. In Ho Chi Minh City, there are motorbikes for rent. You can ask help from your hostel/ hotel’s receptionist.

Covering Festivals: MassKara Festival 2010

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Smiling faces that would greet you like you’re friends, striking colors that would brighten up your day, groovy music that would make you dance, food that would make you salivate (chicken inasal, napoleones, and the cakes of Calea’s) —these are just some of the reasons that would make you visit the City of Smiles—Bacolod City.

That’s what made me come to Bacolod last year. But this year, I’m back home reminiscing and missing the festival. I would love to return to Bacolod. It’s one of the cities where you’d like to walk around, eat, walk, and eat again. hahaha. Bacolod is a food haven. I’ve yet to post the restaurants where I ate last year.

But for now, check out my shots of the colorful MassKara Festival in 2010.

Here’s a short background about the festival: 

MassKara is a fusion of two words: Mass (which means multitude or many) and Kara (a Spanish word for “face”). Hence, MassKara means a mass or multitude of smiling faces.

And why the smiling masks?

“As a people, we have this fantastic ability to hide our feelings. We can smile through adversity,” said festival director Eli Tajanlangit.

Unlike other Philippine festivals, the MassKara festival is celebrated not because of religion or legend. Tajanlangit related that the festival was born because of a depression that befell the sugar industry in the 1980s.

“Looking back at how it started, we celebrate (the festival) as a collective declaration of hope against all odds. MassKara is very Bacolod because for no reason, we celebrate, we party. That’s us as a people. Whatever happens, we will survive as a people,” said Tajanlangit, who has organized the yearly festival since 2004.

MassKara Festival is celebrated every October.

Hunting, Hunted & Haunted at Diplomat Hotel

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Three years had passed and the memories still reside in my head. We didn’t see anything but yes, we heard whistling sounds, clattering of iron roof, and the unexplained.

October 2008. My colleagues and I headed to Baguio City to shoot and document what’s inside the Diplomat Hotel for a halloween feature. Ghost hunting, it was but we ended up being hunted at the haunted hotel.

Diplomat Hotel, which sits atop of the Dominican Hill, was a dilapidated and abandoned hotel since the owner died in 1987. Before it became a hotel, history tells us that this hotel was a vacation house of the Dominicans. It was built in 1913 and was finished by 1915. World War II happened. When there’s war, there were deaths.

At around seven in the evening, the spirit questors of Baguio City: Dion Fernandez, Me An Billones and Maria Elena Catajan gathered us in a circle to pray before we enter the building. Armed with flashlights and cameras, we followed the questors as they guided us from the ground floor up to the rooftop. Mr. Fernandez flipped a tarot card as we made our way inside the hotel.

At the rooftop, my colleague interviewed the questors. Mr. Fernandez revealed that someone has been following us since we entered the hotel. The two ladies said that they were absorbing the negative energies so we won’t be affected. But the simple message that they just want to send was this: “Respect. This is their sacred ground. So don’t do anything that would desecrate their place.”

A vandalized fireplace at Diplomat Hotel

We returned outside. While one of our colleagues was narrating what he felt inside the hotel, we suddenly heard clattering sounds. It’s more like a tantrum being thrown at an iron roof. We just looked at each other. Everyone heard the sound but only two were brave enough to stand up and follow the sound with the camera. Guards passed by with their routine inspection. We asked them if they heard the sound, and they said, “No.”

We’re not going to any lodging but we’re spending the night at the hotel. We didn’t have any booking, though. But the questors warned us to camp just near the entrance so we can get out immediately.

The fountain where spirits "congregate"

Cameras were put on record near the fountain, which was said to be the place where the spirits congregate. From 12 Midnight up to 6 am, each of us alternately sleep and report about our observations. At 12 Midnight, I stood up infront of the fountain and reported what I observed. I saw nothing but felt the chilly wind and a whistling sound (Check out the video of my report at 5:45-6:04. The video has a total running time of 12:04).

Note: During the recording of the video and the interview at the rooftop, silence enveloped the night. The only noise were the voices of the questors recounting the experience. But when the video was played back for editing, various sounds were recorded and picked up. That’s the mystery which was left unanswered.

It was freezing cold. I barely couldn’t sleep but I shut my eyes to rest. Early in the morning, light came in to the shattered windows of the hotel. We went up to the rooftop. To our surprise, the pieces of iron roof that we heard were neatly piled up. The view from the top took our breath away. The fog and a glimpse of light covered the City of Pines. The breeze of the morning was refreshing. We were reminded that darkness doesn’t remain forever. The light will shine and make the day bright. It’s another brand new day.

The view from the rooftop, the morning after

At daytime, the Diplomat Hotel didn’t look haunted. It embodied a grandeur of the past. And you would think someone was taking good care of the plants and flowers blossoming in its surroundings.

BlogCarnival*This is Tripadora‘s entry to the 12th Pinoy Travel Bloggers Blog Carnival, entitled, “Dark Tourism: Philippines in Focus” hosted by The PinaySoloBackpacker Gael Hilotin.

Strolling in Dumaguete’s Rizal Boulevard

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With all the lights around, night time becomes daytime as the music entertains the ears and the eyes feast on watching people at Rizal Boulevard in Dumaguete City.

It was fun to watch the night life at the boulevard. Here are the reasons why:

1. URBAN FEEL. Rizal Boulevard has a resemblance of Roxas Boulevard in Manila minus the traffic and the pollution. It is where people jog, play, eat, chat, kill time and feel the breeze coming from the Dumaguete City Bay.

2. STORIES ABOUND. Killing time meant observing the people and creating stories out of their actions. The boulevard has been a witness to the sweetness of couples, joy of friends, and to the gloom of people in soliloquy.

3. EAT, DRINK, and BE MERRY. If you feel like eating and drinking, you can find numerous bars and restos overlooking the bay. We went to Coco Amigos, where there’s a live band.

Even locals watch and listen to the band across the street. For them, that’s entertainment.

4. RELAX. When you’re tired of walking, then get a foot massage by the bay.

5. TAKE HOME A PIECE of DUMAGUETE. You can bring home personalized key chains, which you can find along the path walk in the boulevard.