Baybayin (Alibata): The Ancient Filipino Alphabet

I am a believer that expats have a moral obligation to learn as much about the country in which they live as they possibly can. The Philippines, like any other nation, has a rich history that dates back thousands of years. Long before the Spanish conquest of these islands, people lived here, thrived, and developed their own civilization, different and distinct from that of their Spanish conquerors. They say that “History is written by the victors”, and most modern Filipino history is what the Spanish, the Americans, and later the early Philippine governments, wished it to be. The modern history is what is commonly taught in schools, and it is an important part of every Filipino’s cultural identity. Yet, the older history, the one more truly Filipino, also exists, and has largely been neglected and forgotten over time. These islands existed long before Magellan stepped on that beach in Cebu. When he arrived, he found an existing civilization, rather than merely “primitive” tribes.

What defines “Civilization”? In my mind, at least, the level of literacy, rather than the use of tools or anything else, determines that a civilized people existed. That definition is not too far off the mark of the official “cultural development” definition given by Webster’s and Oxford. In short, the ability to write one’s history and communicate abstract concepts to others defines a people and is what separates the civilized from the uncivilized and the animal kingdom. There was a civilization in the Philippines.

The national language, Filipino, was derived from Tagalog, and is colloquially different in many ways, but intelligible, to Tagalog speakers. Think of it as similar to the difference between American English and the Queen’s English: Not quite different dialects, but greater differences than merely different accents. Americans and Brits can normally understand each other, but there are slightly different usages based largely on class and other cultural differences.

Why was Tagalog chosen as the basis of Filipino? There were many reasons, but chiefly: The Capitol is Manila, primarily inhabited mostly by Tagalogs; The nation’s founding Fathers were mostly Tagalogs; Most Filipinos at least had a basic understanding of Tagalog at the time of independence (Bisaya was also considered, due to the number of speakers, but because it splintered into many different dialects, it was deemed less suitable than Tagalog as a “national unifier”); and, finally, there were more surviving written records in Tagalog than any other Filipino language (Back to the “civilization” definition). Modern Tagalog is comprised of approximately 40% Spanish “loan” words, and another 10% English “loan” words. The remainder is mostly derivative of native Tagalog words (Which themselves were mostly derived from Bahasa Malaysia or Bahasa Indonesia words, largely derived from ancient Indian Vedic or Sanskrit), many words derived from Arabic, and local words of Philippine origin.

By way of comparison, the modern Filipino alphabet was Latinized, the only difference from the modern English alphabet is the addition of the letters “Ng” (Tagalog) and “Ñ” (Spanish). Ilocano, Bisaya, Tagalog and other native languages were spoken here for centuries, and were each very different, as they are today. However, they all used the same alphabet (script) when they were written, with a few regional variations. The ancient script was called Baybayin (or, sometimes, Alibata). Baybayin was syllabic in nature, meaning that each character represented a complete syllable, rather than a single sound, as represented by a letter in the modern Filipino alphabet. This syllabic writing came to the Philippines from Indonesia, especially Java and Sulawesi, and shared many characteristics with ancient Sanskrit alphabets that are used, to this day, in India.

Baybayin was used primarily in Luzon and the Visayas. People in Mindanao primarily spoke Arabic, after the Islamic conversion, by the time the Spanish arrived, and Baybayin was largely forgotten in Mindanao (If you are a Muslim, you must be able to read the Koran, which is only officially written in Arabic).

The Baybayin alphabet is written below:

Each character represents a syllable that consists of a consonant, followed by the “a” sound (ah).
So, what if a syllable requires a sound that doesn’t have an “a”? A kudlit, or hash mark, is added either above, or below, the symbol, depending on the sound. For the sound, “I” or “E”, the kudlit is placed above the symbol.For the sound “O” or “U”, the kudlit is written below the symbol.

If a syllable doesn’t have a consonant (like “Oo”, or “yes”), then one of three vowel symbols could be used:

There are many syllables that end in a consonant, leaving a slight problem in reading Baybayin: There’s no way to write that consonant, so the reader must guess as to the meaning. The Spanish solved this problem by developing a special kudlit, in the form of a small cross, which was written below character of the ending consonant, thus making Baybayin easier to read. There were no symbols used for numbers.

Words were written bottom to top, and left to right. The early Filipinos usually had more of an oral tradition, rather than a written tradition, but written records of epic poems and religious works were kept.
The early Spanish friars were literally amazed that the people in the Philippines could read and write. They were impressed. They noted that a greater preponderance of women could read, rather than men, and, initially after the conquest, translations of Spanish into Baybayin were made. The Spanish Friars translated Spanish into Baybayin mainly to aid in the conversion of Filipinos to Catholicism. However, by the 19th Century, the use of Baybayin had largely died out, except occasionally as personal signatures on documents. These documents are largely the ones that survived. Many Friars noted with pride their destruction of “pagan” documents written in Baybayin, and most of the documents written by the ancient Filipinos were lost forever. However, as this article noted in the beginning, “History is written by the victors”, and the Spanish used language as a means of control. By forcing the native people to learn and speak Spanish, they minimized the incidences of insurrection: Keep them fed and ignorant, so to speak. By the time of the American colonial period, the Philippines was largely a Spanish-speaking country, with local languages used in the home and colloquially.

It is interesting to note that Rebecca had never heard of Baybayin before… I’m not even certain that it is taught in schools here. The first thing she said when she read this article was, “Wow! It looks similar to Arabic!”. She is fluent in Arabic, and, given Baybayin’s origins, there are many similarities. There is a small movement among young Filipinos trying to resurrect Baybayin as a source of Filipino pride, primarily through the use of tatoos and other means of artistic expression. Hopefully, they succeed in at least showing their fellow countrymen that their history began well before the Spanish ever arrived.

In researching this posting, I found several good overviews on the Net about Baybayin in addition to a lengthy Wikipedia post (and got the pictures).

www.baybayin.com

http://www.mts.net/~pmorrow/bayeng1.htm

http://www.eaglescorner.com/baybayin/

http://www.omniglot.com/writing/tagalog.htm

Tampo (Oh, Lord! Not Again!!!)

I am on the receiving end of tampo today. It is not real pleasant around the Miele household this afternoon. For those who do not know what tampo is, when you marry a Filipina, you will quickly learn the meaning of this word, and it is best not to forget it, for your own sanity and domestic harmony. Tampo is, essentially, sulking or pouting, but with a unique Filipino twist: It starts suddenly and for often no apparent reason. For someone with two American ex-wives, I know the difference… There is no Western equivalent. Tampo time is usually silent. Things go very quiet all of a sudden. Brows scrunch up. Plates and other items start being set down noisily. Angry Filipina voices start being heard, outside doors in Tagalog, on cell phones in Ybanag, and so on. Female neighbors or the maid may raise an eyebrow when they see you. Hey! I’m just a stupid Kano here! My friend, your goose is now, officially, cooked.

The thing about tampo is that it can often creep up on you and surprise you. “What did I do?” “How would I know that?” Well, my friend, whether you know what caused it or not, you had better figure out why, because until you do, and proper penance and contrition on YOUR part has been served, tampo will continue.

So, aside from the obvious crimes, like cheating or coming home drunk, tampo can be caused by a myriad of factors: tone of voice in an innocent conversation, losing face, or even if it is rainy outside and not sunny. My fellow expats, it is just something that you had better learn to deal with, because, eventually, no matter how lovey-dovey your relationship is, it WILL happen. So, how long does it last? Well, in my case, I’m a pretty good boy. I commit very few serious crimes. So, it usually lasts for a day or so, IF, and only IF, I can figure out what I did. Notice I said “I” did… getting defensive will never help and only serves to lengthen your time in tampo purgatory. So, since I normally am good, it can take a while for me to figure out what caused the tampo to occur in the first place. I’ve normally done nothing truly obvious, to me at least.

My longest tampo purgatory has been three days… Not a word spoken, English or Ybanag, from the other side. Please take heed, that tampo can last much longer for serious crimes… MUCH longer. So much for the “submissive Asian female” crap that you read about.

So, how do you deal with something like this? Well, I usually hide in my office for a while and either catch up on work or play video games for a while, all the time running down a mental list of things I MAY have done. Then, I try apologizing for things I’ve mentally selected that I may have done. It is always my fault, such is the nature of tampo: There simply is no defense and you just need to suck it up and be contrite. It is worth noting, however, that if I guess wrong and apologize for the wrong thing, tampo continues and is probably lengthened on account of being so stupid as to not KNOW what I did.

Since my articles appear several weeks after I write them, this tampo time has probably long ended before you read this. See, I already know what my crime was: Speaking disrespectfully last night. I’m already planning my penance. There was an electrical problem at the house, actually quite serious. The main electrical line from the neighbor’s house was arcing into our dirty kitchen with a loud “BOOM” every 30 minutes or so. A big problem, and one which, admittedly, is scary… So, I said, “Our house or not, turn everything off and call an electrician.” Well, soon, the neighbor women and all the surrounding house maids were in our driveway kibbutzing with Rebecca and speculating as to the cause:
“John, could the house catch fire?”
“I don’t know, call an electrician.”
“John, could the washing machine cause this?”
“I don’t know, call an electrician.”
“Could the outlet cause this?”
“I don’t know, call an electrician.”
“The sparks came from the cement.”
“Impossible! Call an electrician.”
The conversation then turned to our white lady or other spirit causing the problem.
“John, do you think the white lady is doing this?”
“Rebecca, for the eighth time, I don’t know! Call an electrician!”

Usher in my time in tampo!
My stay in tampo purgatory should be short. It may take Bob’s flower delivery service to make proper amends. (Which, by the way, is VERY reliable, and a great value for getting out of situations like this! Visit his online store! It has helped me out before, so I speak from personal experience.)

In any event, when this article publishes, and is read by my darling other half, I may spend another night in tampo purgatory… Not certain, but the likelihood is that this situation will occur.

US politics don’t matter when you live in the Philippines

This article may get some of my fellow countrymen a little riled up at me. It is mostly my own opinion, backed up by observation. I normally try and be objective and balanced about what I write, and will continue to do so, but, this article is an opinion: Nothing more.  Bob typically does not want comments about US politics on this site, but this article attempts to answer a very simple question: Should people be concerned about what happens back “home”? The answer is “NO”.

Reading through the articles on LiP over the last few weeks, I noticed a fair number of comments related to political happenings in the United States.  I’ve noticed that there are generally two groups of people who come here to live: Those retiring here on a “fixed income” who do not intend to work, and those who intend to either work here or start their own business to support themselves here. When you become an expat, by default, you are leaving things behind… Your country, your lifestyle, stresses, family, oftentimes material goods. You are starting a new life. That is the reality of it all.

Once you get here, your daily life will be different in many ways: Some good changes and other bad changes. Related to different “Hot” political topics, I’ll address these one by one to try and show why US politics and policy do not matter over here.

1. Information disconnect: When I last lived in California, I had no fewer than 20 stations on my cable system dedicated to “news”. Here, in Quezon City, I get CNN, Bloomberg, and BBC World in English. On ANC there is a one hour daily English local news broadcast, and the two local Tagalog news programs on ABS-CBN and GMA. There is a disconnect from being constantly “in touch” with “breaking news”. When I lived in LA, every car chase with the cops was “breaking news”… The stations interrupted programming to show the chase footage Live, as it was happening. Indeed, there was even a web site that would page you so you could drop what you were doing in order to watch the chase. Very little is shown of actual importance or relevance to most people’s daily lives: Just look at the inordinate amount of time devoted to political scandal, weather, sports, and gossip. That type of media is less prevalent here. During my last visit to the States, the political talking heads were more prevalent than ever. Every news channel has their own experts, babbling on and on about this and that, most of whom are just making wild guesses and glorying in their self-importance… ad nauseum. What do I use for news here? I haven’t put on the TV news for months: I read The Economist once a week and glance at the Yahoo news feed once a day: That’s it, and it suits me fine.
2. Heathcare: Obama may do this. Obama may do that. Congress wants this or that. OMG! They are going to let old people die! When you live here, you will not be covered by most US insurance plans. That is fact, like it or not. Fortunately, medical care here is generally pretty good, and cheap. The state of Philippine health care and your local insurance should now be far more important to you than what is happening with Medicare. As Bob wrote, US policy changes may impact expats through the tax system. That could impact you. HOWEVER, there is little, if anything, other than vote, that you can do about it… I will tell you from experience that your representatives and senators consider you irrelevant now that you are here: There are simply not enough expat votes to matter.
3. The economy: The economy is now global, like it or not. Borders no longer are real barriers, and the old ideas about unions, Buy American, and so on, are truly ancient thinking. The world is changing rapidly, and those who will not change with it will not survive. The US global domination is waning… I do not mean that it is dead. Far from it. The US still represents a gigantic market and has significant economic pull, and will continue to do so for many years. Asia is, however, the future. There are new players in the game: China, Thailand, India, Vietnam. Those countries have huge amounts of human and natural resources. They also have very significant social and economic problems of their own. Economics and trade are NOT the zero-sum game that politicians would lead you to believe. There are no winners or losers. The economy churns along because somebody benefits from the transaction: The Chinese would not make that tennis shoe unless you are willing and able to buy it. The housing bubble occurred because there were people willing to buy property at those prices, regardless of actual value. It is easy to blame politicians or corporations for these messes, but the bottom line is that the problems were self created. As to relevance to the expat, the Philippine economy has weathered the current storm well. Yes, there are still enormous income gaps here and other problems, but the country has weathered the downturn pretty well. The economy here should be far more important to you than the rising unemployment rate in Buffalo, NY. You live here now. Unless your business has customers there, focus on what matters and leave the bickering about politics behind.
4. Pensions: This aspect of politics will impact retirees here more that any other thing. The thing about pensions is this, it is a fixed income, but someone has to pay. On private pensions, you willingly paid into a fund managed by someone with the promise that you would receive “X” amount for a certain period of time. Is it really a politician’s fault if that fund was mismanaged and you are receiving less? With public pensions, like military, anger is justified if the amounts go lower or cease. But I ask you this: Who pays if the costs get out of hand? Everybody who pays taxes. These issues take decades to come to light. They aren’t entirely Obama’s fault, or Bush’s, or Clinton’s. These situations developed over time, resulting from promises made to different groups over the years. Now, the bill comes due. The point of all this is that when you move to the Philippines to “retire”, you must plan to survive in the event that those funds are no longer present. A drop in the value of the dollar can drastically reduce the amount of money you receive once you are here. This is not related to politics: The Federal Reserve has a “hands off” policy as far as exchange rates go. Interest rates and the rate at which it buys dollars are focused on domestic policy. In other words, the Fed doesn’t care if your pension is worth less, and you live outside of the States. There is a reason that the Fed Chairman’s term is 14 years: It removes him from political party affiliation.
5. Foreign policy: Why should you care if the US invades another country? Should the US be the world’s policeman? There are more, different, players on the wold stage now. How have the last several conflicts the US has gotten involved in turned out? Should you wave the flag and sing, proudly, The Star Spangled Banner when you live here? What if Filipinos disagree with your patriotism? Are you going to tell them that they are wrong and risk a one-way ticket home? What if relations between the Philippines and the US deteriorate? Will you still wear that “Old Glory” t-shirt?  The only foreign policy that now matters is the US relationship with the Philippines.
6. Taxes: You will have to pay, and you can’t run away. Up or down, your vote matters very little when you leave the States. You no longer have much clout as a taxpayer, and your representatives simply will not care, with you sitting over here. Why get worked up over something you can’t change?
7. The President: Once you leave US shores (And, I would argue, while you are still there), who the US President is, or which party he belongs to impacts your daily life very little. Living here in Manila, my life is essentially the same with Obama as my “leader” as it was under the Bush administration.

I’ll close this article with the following statement:

Every expat left the United States for a reason, whether economic, for love, work, or whatever. When you made that decision to leave, you decided to leave your old life behind. Those daily political shenanigans in the States impact you to a far lower degree once you are here. Since you can’t vote here, you stay out of Philippine politics. In other words, you become, and should becom, apolitical. The passionate, sometimes angry, responses to those politics are now misdirected from something far more important: Your life here, in the Philippines.

Juanito’s First Birthday and Adoption Update

January 2 was a big day for us! It marked Juanito’s first birthday, and a year that went by way too quickly. Thinking back on that day a year ago, and how Becky and my lives have changed, it really has been such an eventful year. It seems like just yesterday.

If you had asked me a year ago about being a parent, I would have given some smart-alec answer about being one who should not breed, or something similar. It truly is amazing how the moment you hold that small life, that bond develops, without even realizing it. So, fast forward to now: We’ve been very dilligent in making certain that we are doing everything we need to do for his welfare. Everyone tells us he is big (By Filipino standards, I guess), but the doctor actually says he’s a little under weight to normal. Very little belly on him… I think he’s going to turn out tall.’ Perfectly healthy and normal.

Since he is somewhat light-skinned, people assume we are his natural parents. I think he will be smart, since he seems to be highly inquisitive (OK, nosy!). He’s just starting to talk now, Mama, Papa, and HEY!! (Where he got that one, who knows?). Just on the verge of walking…and climbing the stairs to my office to see me when I’m working.

OK, enough of the proud Papa stuff, before I bore everyone to tears (He’s my pride and joy!) Last year, I wrote that adoption in the Philippines, particularly when a foreigner is involved, is a complex process. We are at one year, and the DSWD is guessing that the adoption (Local) will be final in March or April, depending on the judge’s schedule. In June, we both obtained NBI and FBI police clearances, underwent psychiatric evaluations as a couple and individually (four times), and got our required paperwork (Including certified copies of Juanito’s). The attorney drafted and filed a formal adoption request (At which time we became Juanito’s legal guardians, in addition to being his guardians in practice), interviewed Juanito’s birth mother, and we obtained three references each for Rebecca and myself. We submitted 3 years of income tax forms and bank statements, verification of employment, and any land titles. We also submitted about 12 photos: Full body, individual, passport, and as a family. They have regularly checked Juanito’s “baby book” for required medical visits. His baptismal certificate was also required (Are we caring for him spiritually?)

This weekend, we have a home visit from the DSWD case worker to the house in Manila. This is the person responsible, assigned by the Philippine government, to ensure Juanito’s welfare. Let me tell you: They take this job seriously, no matter what anyone tells you. Rebecca and I were interviewed by her for two hours, and she filed a preliminary report to the court. She has already visited the house in Abulug in November and met with everyone in Juanito’s life, including Father Carlos and the birth mother. Keep in mind that Juanito has been in our care since he was 5 days old… We are the only family he has ever known.

What is she looking for?

How we interact with Juan. Is the house clean and sanitary? Do we feed him? Do we play with him? Where will he sleep? Do we clothe him properly?

In essence, are we doing everything we are supposed to do for his welfare?

We had a preliminary hearing in November, and the final hearing will occur after the judge reads the case worker’s report. He will then make a final ruling, we can change Juanito’s name on his birth certificate, and apply for his Philippine passport (So we can apply for a visa for him to visit the States).

At that point, there is a two-year wait to start the US Citizenship process.

What did this cost so far? Well, since we are residing here, and intend to keep residing here, and Juanito is within 4 degrees of sanguinuity to Rebecca, this is considered a local, family adoption. Excluding the cost of caring for him (That isn’t a cost, but a duty and a privelege), we’ve probably spent 150,000 pesos, so far, on documents and attorneys, really not all that much. However, the process is slow. The rules and procedures protect my son, so we do what needs to be done. Remember, we’ve always intended to do this properly, with no shortcuts. So, for those in a similar situation, this is a pretty good guess at the associated expenses solely related to a legal adoption here.

I wish I could give a happy update on Juanito’s birth mother… But I just can’t. She is now pregnant again and about to marry a boy with zero education or future. Juanito really resembles her (You can tell when they are next to each other… We let her see him, supervised, for about 30 minutes. I would post a picture, but wish to protect her privacy), and he seems to sense who she is (He cries when she comes near him). Rebecca and I truly feel sorry for her, and we have tried to help her out in any way we can ( but she is a legal adult now, and we are not her parents).

So, we are just about legal, and are a family.

Our trip to Claveria and Portabaga Falls

Over Christmas, I was starting to get a little stir crazy sitting there in Abulug: I am not one who likes just “sitting around”, and start getting antsy after a few days. So, one day, Rebecca and I decided to take Juanito to the beach in Claveria. The beach in Abulug, by the house, is a “dirty” beach. It is composed partially of volcanic rock, combined with water from the river, that gives it a brownish tinge. Additionally, there is no natural harbor or lagoon at Abulug, and the currents on the Babuyan Straits are notoriously dangerous, so it is not really a good swimming beach.

Claveria, on the other hand, has a natural harbor, with very clear water, and a nice, white, sandy beach. Claveria is located around 40 km West of Abulug, and is at least a 1.5 hour drive, due to road conditions. So, we get Juanito packed up, jump into the truck and head out. There is an old US Military base at Claveria, bombed (flattened) during the war and abandoned… The town was built on the ruins and they provide for some interesting exploring in a truly gorgeous location. Some photos:

After we have stayed at the beach a bit, and Juanito decides it is time for a nap, we still had half the day left, so we decide to head 30 km further West to Santa Praxedes and Portabaga Falls, right on the border with Ilocos Norte. Santa Praxedes is where the Cordillera meets the sea in the North, on the other side of the mountains from Pagudpud. As you start to climb, about 5 km from Ilocos, is Portabaga Falls, one of dozens in the surrounding mountains, but one that is easily accessible and has some brand new facilities. Guess what? The Department of Tourism really should promote this place! A wonderful little facility was built right next to the falls, complete with picnic sheds that rent for only 200 pesos per day, but you needn’t rent one: There are plenty of places to keep your things and a changing area to boot. Grand total for admission? A whopping 20 pesos per carload!

The falls are over 200m tall, and Cagayan Province has built little retaining pools at the base of the falls for swimming. The water is cool, clean, and clear. Water temperature is a crisp 18 – 20 degrees year-round… Really nice when it is hot outside. This facility is brand new, only open for a year or so… Rebecca grew up in Cagayan, and had never been there before (Another story, but, essentially, mountains are scary places: Full of bandits and monsters… Why tempt fate when you don’t need to go?)

This was Juanito’s first time swimming in a waterfall, and he had a ball, splashing around and having a bunch of Filipinas from neighboring tables fawning all over him there. For those contemplating a trip to Pagudpud, drive a little farther East, and stop by for a really inexpensive, fun time. Some photos:

New Year’s Traditions in Abulug: Keeping out the bad juju

This year, I decided to write about everything we did for New Year’s… This posting should appear in February, after everyone is in the winter doldrums, so it will be separated from the other New Year’s articles.

New Year’s Eve is much more important to Abulugenyos than Christmas… It is largely centered around chasing out bad spirits and luck, and inviting in the good luck: A mixture of Catholic and Chinese tradition that is uniquely Filipino, but borrows heavily from other cultures. Indeed, the day ends with a Mass at church, before everyone’s Media Noche celebrations. Generally, the New Year is almost religious in nature, second only to All Soul’s Day or Easter in the liturgical calendar up there.

This year, Media Noche consisted of a pig being slaughtered, cooked into Lechon, along with Pancit, Cagayan style (With livers and both Bihon and Canton noodles). There is a basket of fruit, with 13 different ROUND fruits, one for each Apostle, plus Judas (Since Jesus “would have forgiven him”… Bananas don’t count.) In our basket, we had Pomelo, Calamansi, Mango, Green Mango, Longan, Oranges, Grapes, Watermelon, Cantaloupe, Atis, Santol, Pineapple, and Guava. Each person is given 13 peso coins to carry in their pocket for luck (I was running around to the sari-sari stores trying to get change).

Throughout the day, carollers come to the gate. In Abulug, there are normally two groups of carollers: Kids (5 pesos) or Aeta / Igorot. In particular, we always try to give the Aeta a little “something extra”,  Negritos (NOT considered derogatory), as they are referred to locally. Mama has a very soft spot for the Aeta… They are very gentle, and kind, people, and they nursed her for two months when she caught “fever” in the mountains many decades ago. This year, we intended to give canned sardines (They really appreciate those), but they got flip flops instead. The songs the Aeta sing are traditional, tribal, and sound completely different from normal Filipino carols.

During the day, on New Year’s eve, Becky’s brothers head out to the rice paddies with fireworks to scare away evil spirits (and the carabaos), and to the fish ponds to do the same thing (and stop in the fishing village for a cup or two or three of lambanog.

After Mass, we start with fireworks (Mostly made locally in Bulacan, much more powerful and CHEAP by US standards, if somewhat dubious quality), ending with starting every engine in the house to ensure that they start and run easily over the coming year (Aircon, generator, pump from the well, washing machine, saw, chainsaw, and tractor). Abulug sounds like a battlefield on New Year’s, with some people even setting off dynamite! Finally, we eat, and go to bed at 2:00 AM. Father Carlos helpfully wakes us at 6:00 AM New Year’s day for Mass (for those who didn’t go the night before) by ringing the church bells (I really like you, Father, but why does God have to wake up so early in the morning?).

On New Year’s day, the “bigis” (Little old ladies from the Church) go house to house singing prayers, giving blessings, and bringing the Baby Jesus from the nativity into each house to cleanse it from evil spirits, Aswangs, demons, and any other creatures that may be lurking about. This is also when we make tinubung and chocolate (Both previously written about). New Year’s day closes with a quick visit to the cemetery to offer food, drink, and candles to the family’s ancestors (Hey! Ghosts have to celebrate too!).

Mama had me change my shirt… It was black, and she was afraid that it would bring bad juju into the house… So I changed. She said, “You are in sales… You don’t need any bad luck!” I told my boss this, and we had a good laugh. A couple of hours after changing my shirt, I got a call from California… We just received a nice contract on New Year’s Eve! Mama’s precaution was evidently true! My boss said, “You had better listen to that old woman!)”

Bulala Part II: The fishing village

In my last article, I mentioned that Rebecca got teary-eyed while we were driving to Linao. Well, the fishing village for Bulala is on a tributary from the Cagayan River, situated between Bulala and the Linao ferry dock.

The fishing village is situated around 5 km South of the ghost town, and is the location of Becky’s remaining land holdings that are rice paddies… around 5 hectares each for her and her brother. In fact, when we went out there, Rebecca’s brother had to show her where her land was: It had been over 30 years since she had been out there, and she couldn’t remember where they were!

The fishing village has changed very little over the last 100 years… You can still reach it by banca or a very rugged dirt road: Those are your choices, either of which take a while. Life goes on there according to the sun: People wake up at dawn and go to bed when it gets dark outside. Daily life is focused on getting something to eat for the day, and you stop working when you are finished. Most houses have no electricity, or very limited electricity, and water comes from a well, which normally is fetched with a bucket on the end of a bamboo pole. The closest major town is Aparri, 20 minutes by motorized banca or two hours by paddling.

For those expats who dream of the “Tarzan” existence, this is about as close as you can come and still be within reach of basic civilization. There are many downsides to this rural existence, and it can be a very hard life to survive, but, on the upside, there is no stress, and people have a real sense of family and community. This is what Rebecca remembers fondly from her youth and days of childhood, hence her tears from the fond memories… They still exist in the fishing village. Some pictures to give you an idea:

From Cacao to Chocolate: A centuries-old tradition

Chocolate making came to the Philippines from the Spanish, who brought the cacao plants across the Pacific from Mexico.  With an excellent climate for growing cacao, and rich volcanic soil, certain areas of the Philippines lend themselves to cacao production and Cagayan province is one such area. For hundreds of years, Rebecca’s family has been making their version of native chocolate… a tradition on New Year’s and during Holy Week. As time progresses, this traditional way of manufacturing by hand is slowly being forgotten. The knowledge was passed down from generation to generation. It is a labor-intensive process, and the whole family helps out. Rebecca is the last in her family to know this process: modern machinery and lack of interest by younger generations means that this knowledge may be forgotten someday (Unless Juanito takes an interest).

So, how do you make chocolate?

Well, you start with growing cacao. The trees typically require a tropical climate and grow best on volcanic hillsides. The trees take between 5 and 7 years to mature, depending on the species. One downside to growing cacao is that the pods are a favorite food of rats, which grow quite large on this high-fat food. There is a reason that you always see lots of cats hanging around on cacao plantations.

When the fruit is ripe, the cacao pods are picked and split open with a bolo. The seeds are removed from the pod and laid in the sun for several days to dry, much like rice. After drying, they are collected and can be stored for up to one year before roasting. At this stage, the cacao seeds are only very slightly aromatic, and generally look like raw almonds. The taste at this point is completely tasteless: They are hard and brittle, with no flavor.

The cacao seeds are sorted according to size, for easier, even roasting.

They are placed in a palabok over a wood fire, largest ones first, and continually stirred (Or they will burn) until they turn dark, nearly black, brown. The roasted seeds now smell like chocolate and the neighbors all know what we are making.

The seeds are cooled, and then peeled by hand. To peel the seeds, you simply pinch them. The seeds are very brittle, and tend to crumble. Your hands are also now nearly completely black!

The cacao seeds are placed in a wicker basket and tossed (like threshing), removing most of the peels. Remaining peels need to be removed by hand.

Finally, the seeds are placed back in the palabok and heated, for easier grinding. If you tasted one now, it would taste like very bitter baking chocolate. They are highly aromatic at this point, and you can smell them from 15-20 meters away. This is when the real work begins. They are placed into a whetstone grinder and ground by hand. This grinder is over 30 years old and has a granite stone inside. It takes around 30 pounds of force to turn the handle. As the cacao comes out of the grinder, you can see the cocoa butter beginning to separate from the chocolate solids. It can now be called chocolate, rather than cacao.

The chocolate is in the form of a very thick paste, coated with the cocoa butter. It is mixed with a 2 to 1 ratio of raw, native cane sugar. This sugar still has most of the molasses remaining in it. The chocolate and sugar must be thoroughly mixed, which is done by rubbing the mixture between your hands. This step is really important, so that the chocolate has a smooth texture.

After mixing, the chocolate and sugar mixture is ground a second time by hand using a granite grindstone. This stone is over 200 years old, and was Becky’s grandmother’s grandmother’s stone. The stone has been used for so long that the “stick” looks like a bone from centuries of wear. The Abulug mayor even offered Mama 3,000 pesos for the stone, since it is “antique”. Mama refused. When Rebecca was a child, her and the other kids would be gathered around her grandmother as she added the sugar, trying to take a little taste while she wasn’t looking. This was always followed by a stern, “Wait! It’s not ready yet!”

The second grinding reduces the chocolate into a powdery texture. It is rolled into balls by hand: small, medium, or large. This is where the kids can help… While Becky was growing up, her Nanay told the kids that they got to eat 5 balls for every 100 they rolled. Needless to say, chocolate-making day was a real event in a kid’s life back then.

The balls are then tossed around in an enamelware bowl, “polishing” them. This makes them an even texture, and the cocoa butter solidifies with the sugar, coating the ball in a hard “shell”.

The yield from this batch:

4 kg of raw cacao

8 kg of sugar

400 large balls

The balls sell in the market for 5 pesos each. It takes around 3 balls to flavor a batch of champorada with 250g of rice. Or, a common stomach ache remedy in Cagayan is to drop one large ball into a cup of coffee, making a sort of mocha drink.

Now, this chocolate is referred to as “native” chocolate… It is quite different than Swiss or Belgian confectionery. It tastes like a very sweet, dark chocolate, with a little bitterness. Effectively, the process is the same as making a Hershey bar, though the equipment is quite different and the process is far less “refined” in the province. Most modern chocolatiers buy cocoa powder, cocoa butter, and “chocolate liquor” that is mechanically separated and recombined into their final mixes. This is why Swiss and Belgian chocolates are so “smooth” and rich… The percentage of fat and flavor is altered. Yet, with the proper equipment, the “native” chocolate could be made into a similar product. This chocolate is 100% natural and organic… Only two pure ingredients.

Personally, I think the native chocolate tastes pretty good… It is what it is… Made with care, tradition, and certainly, love.

The Ghost of Bulala: Rebecca’s Ancestral Homeland

(This article should be considered a joint effort by both John and Rebecca. This largely relates to her family history and she contributed and edited the text.)

I was always fascinated by ghost towns in the Western United States. Very seldomly, with a few exceptions (Bodie, Eagle Mountain, Bisbee, Jasper, Mogollon), do they ever even begin to resemble what you see on TV, with playing cards still on the table. Normally, what you see is just some foundations or old mine tailings. When I lived in New Mexico and California, I used to grab my camera and visit these old relics on the weekend, frequently shooting up to ten rolls of film (For you photographers out there, infrared film gives some really creepy effects in these old towns). Indeed, I even have visited ghost towns in places like Tierra del Fuego and Iceland. The fascination is still the same: What makes an entire community just pull up roots and leave? Most of the time, these towns were founded upon a single industry, like a mine, and gradually faded away after the mine played out. Sometimes, a river may be dammed, flooding the entire town. Other times, some form of natural disaster may occur, forcing people to leave. This is what happened in Bulala, more properly referred to as a Ghost Barangay, or semi-ghost town, and Rebecca’s true home.

Becky identifies herself as Ybanag, and she has some Ilocano blood also. The Ybanag people, according to a very rough, family oral history, originally were Igorots who came from the mountains in Kalinga province, down to the coastal plain inhabited by Ilocanos. Ybanags were warriors, and did not particularly get along with the Ilocano farmers, and they established their own towns. This happened hundreds of years ago, and the original participants are long dead and gone, merely ghosts and vague whispers recalled from elderly minds. This is also why people in Abulug speak Ybanag, and only 15 km away in Ballesteros, they speak Ilocano. Tuguegarao was primarily Ybanag, as was Aparri, Linao, and Tumauini and some towns in Isabella province.

Bulala was Ilocano. There is STILL, to this day, some rivalry between the groups. If you haven’t married into a clan there, you would not know it, but as recently as 50 years ago, Rebecca’s aunt was referred to as a “half-breed”, because of her ¼ Ilocano blood. Becky’s Grandfather was from Abulug, and her Grandmother was from a town 20 km east, Bulala. Her great-grandfather, Don Alfonso Laguimun married a half-mestiza, Nanay Paran, and owned a huge tract of land once encompassing thousands of hectares stretching from Ballesteros town proper all the way to the Cagayan River, a distance of about 8 km (Around 64,000 hectares in the Spanish time). At the center of this tract was Bulala, a fishing and farming village that served as a supply station for the rice paddies in the adjacent alluvial plain: rich farmland that had plenty of water and perfect climate. There were large herds of carabaos, cattle, and horses there. In those days, tobacco was a luxury, so her ancestors traded land for tobacco, literally smoking away their heritage.

Fast forward to the 1960’s, when Rebecca was born. The land holdings had been drastically reduced down to a few hundred hectares through land redistribution, tobacco trading, inheritance, and confiscation by government officials. Bulala still thrived, with a few thousand residents, and Rebecca’s Grandmother was one of the town elders. When Rebecca’s father was killed in 1970, she and her brothers were sent to Bulala to live with her Grandmother, and that is where she grew up. It is still home, even though her family is still in Abulug now, and she owns land, including the fish ponds, there.

Today, there is still a town of Bulala, populated, but not particularly thriving. In reality, it is a dying community. It is merely a remote outpost that time seems to have forgotten. The road leading there is still dirt, and people pretty much live the same way they always have. Some of the houses are even similar to the old Ingorot houses in Kalinga: On stilts, with living quarters up top and pigs down below. However, the barangay Bulala Norte, the old town center, is a ghost town. A few people live there, but not many. What happened?

Around 20 years ago, one of the numerous annual typhoons in Cagayan hit Bulala directly. The typhoon was a bad one… Really bad. Bulala sits right on the Babuyan Straits, the epicenter of the Philippines’ typhoon belt. In addition to the wind damage, most of the beach was washed away by the storm surge, right up to the barangay hall’s foundations, and washing away a significant portion of the town cemetery. The barangay Bulala Norte was essentially abandoned and never rebuilt.

The remains in the cemetery that could be recovered were moved to Abulug, since most families had relatives there, and the town died a very abrupt death.

What’s in Bulala Norte today? Well, the remains of the church, barangay hall, gymnasium, and some cement houses are there, abandoned to the elements. Another typhoon washed some of the beach back into place, but there is a sheer drop-off to the water now (This is a volcanic, black sand beach, like portions of Hawaii). Some families, mostly fishermen, have built nipa huts on top of the old ruins, but no cement or cinder block construction. In its’ heyday, at any given time, there would be hundreds of bancas on the beach at Bulala… Now there are only a few that remain. The town essentially shifted 300m South to the main road, but most of the businesses never returned, leaving just some houses along the road, some now saline rice paddies, and a few sari-sari stores as the only commerce in town. The rest of Bulala is a slowly dying little village.

Today is New Year’s Eve, and we were returning to Abulug through Bulala from the Linao banca dock (We had to go to the bank in Aparri). Linao still resembles Bulala when it was in its’ prime. Rebecca always gets a little teary-eyed when going to Linao because very little has changed there… A few more cement houses, and everyone has cell phones, but otherwise unchanged. Kids still swim naked in the river. Every house is made of nipa and has a banca. Children help in the fields after school. People still keep their pigs under the main house. She remembers the carefree existence when her grandparents were alive, before everyone left for overseas and money jealousies crept into the picture. Before the elders all passed away and their children moved on to Manila, or other greener pastures. She remembers Nanay making calamansi juice for them after helping to dry the palay. She remembers Christmas in Abulug at her Grandpa’s family, and New Year’s in Bulala with her Grandma’s family, both celebrations with over 300 people around, simply enjoying each other’s company and being a family. These ghosts are all that remain there… Haunting, yet reassuring in that they were THERE. Rebecca has two Aunts and an uncle remaining there now, and they struggle to keep the old traditions alive, but without much success… What has been, is now gone forever.  However, our son, Juanito, was born there, and shares the same blood. Hopefully, by the time he’s old enough to realize what these traditions mean, there will still be enough there for him to see. The pictures below should give some idea about what is left.

We made snow in Abulug!

I normally wouldn’t write any type of product endorsement, but this was such a hit over Christmas that I thought it deserved its’ own article.

In mid-December, I had to go to a meeting in Central London, right by the London Eye. My meeting let out, and we had a quick dinner in one of the trendy little café’s on the Thames. As we were walking back to the car park, we passed through a rather impromptu Christmas market that was set up right along the river. At one of the stalls, there was a sign, “MAKE YOUR OWN SNOW!!!!”, with a large crowd in front and a hawker demonstrating this trendy new product.

Well, it was around 2 degrees out, and I was freezing my cajones off, but I was thinking, “My wife has never seen snow, and neither have most Filipinos… Perhaps I should take a look?” Well, Make Your Own Snow is a white, powdery substance (It is essentially the desiccant gel you see in certain products that is ground into a powder) that comes in a little plastic test tube. Pour the contents into a bowl, add some ice water, and it puffs up into a substance that really looks and feels like real snow! Wow, I thought. This is kind of neat. I’ll bet Becky and the kids will get a kick out of it at Christmas. So, I bought a couple of tubes, threw them into my suitcase, and promptly forgot about them.

On Christmas Eve, Becky reminded me that these were in the suitcase, so I grabbed them and her nephew, and we started chemistry class.

As soon as the cold water hit the powder, his eyes lit up, he screamed, “SNOW!!!!”, and grabbed the bowl, running outside to show the other kids. Within 10 seconds, there were 30 kids at the house, playing with the snow, throwing it all around… and having a ball. They had never seen anything like it.

So, you can order this stuff online at Make Your Own Snow (editors note: although this is the correct link shown on the package, the link is dead at the time of publication.  Check back later to see if the site returns, if you are interested), and, fair warning, it is a bit pricey. However, it provided the kids a really unique experience and I can say that of all of the items and pasalubong we have ever brought to Abulug, this was, by far, the biggest hit.