Culture Preserves
Per protocol, our group paid a visit to the municipal government, which struck me as being much better organized than its counterpart in Shariff in Aguak. Several of the local officials seemed genuinely interested in improving the lot of their constituents. However it gradually dawned on me that the IPs had little representation or influence over local government. Of the 20 or so officials that I met, no more than three were of tribal origin, and did not participate much in the discussion.
We concluded and headed to Tibi-Tibi, accompanied by a full police escort and coterie of well-off local officials. We were greeted by dozens of men, women and children decked out in full tribal regalia. One of the major initiatives of the local government was to provide permanent housing for the tribesmen. Prior to this the tribe was semi-nomadic, and moved around the area hunting and fishing. The (predominantly non-indigenous) officials felt that the semi-nomadic lifestyle brought the tribe into conflict with other tribes and kept them in poverty, and therefore made them susceptible for recruitment into the communist insurgency. I was curious to know more about the tribe’s experience of being more or less coerced into settling by the local government. My questions along these lines went nowhere, and were inappropriate for such a large gathering. I brought the meeting to a close and moved on to a nearby museum that the local government had set up to preserve and display aspects of the tribe’s cultural heritage.
Once we were in a smaller group several of the tribal elders started to open up. One of the elders, Datu Luis, showed me around the museum and explained how various spears, shields, traps for wild chickens and fish, and other items were produced and used. He suddenly displayed his warrior prowess by grabbing a wooden shield and bobbing and weaving around it as if parrying an attack. An impressive display for someone who was more than 80 years old, and had been shot in the abdomen by a rival tribesman sometime during the Japanese occupation more than 60 years ago. He had elaborate tattoos up and down his arms, and around his nipples, and explained that his tribe believes that the tattoos illuminate the path to heaven after one dies. I learned more about Tibi-Tibi and its people through this brief encounter than in hours of formal meetings.
I left Tibi-Tibi with some sense of satisfaction that I had managed to make a small connection with Datu Luis and a few others who were willing to share some of their culture and history with me, despite the fact that I was accompanied by people who saw this culture as the root of poverty and insecurity. Again I’d been greeted with warmth and hospitality, and felt guilty at not being able to offer much in return. I also felt frustrated at not being able to gain deeper insights as to whether the development efforts of the local government were in the true interest of the tribe, or whether the people of Tibi-Tibi simply had no alternative but to comply with the will of a better organized and resourced majority.
Admittedly, these encounters offered a very limited glimpse into a complex and multi-faceted reality, though my travels provided insights into the contradictions and half-truths found in reports on local empowerment that circulate in the Manila-based policy circles. This contradiction between official rhetoric and local reality is likely to be the most difficult part of my adjustment to life in the Philippines.
For a gallery documenting Wrobel's trip, click here.
