Arroz from Panay, the “Sicily of the Philippines”

In the island of Panay, legend has it that a grain of palay was once large enough to fill the pot [1]. Man needed not sow and raise the grain because it abounded everywhere, bearing fruit so easily. One day, a man became too tired of the palay’s abundance. Worried that his storage would fill quickly, he pounded the palay hard and tough until the solid grain turned into bits and pieces. Bathala saw what he did and the angry god decided the mere mortal deserves a punishment. “From now on,” the almighty said, “You will toil for every grain of palay!  You will sow and plant and harvest and pound every rice that would make into your stomach! Every drop of sweat for every grain you eat.”  

The quest for rice is often associated with man’s never ending need for sustenance and survival. Rice is the preferred staple and it was grown everywhere in the Philippines, although early Spanish settlers found this grain abundant in Panay Island. Rice comes in various names. The Visayans call it called humay, tipasi, or paray. The Panayanons planted rice following the direction of the stars, the movement of the winds, and the song of the birds. Miguel Lopez de Legaspi observed that the natives would harvest rice every October and November [2]. For the Sulud society, practicing rice rituals is necessary for the success of every phase involved, from marking (panuos) and clearing of the site where rice is to be planted (panabi-tabi, tadag), to planting (paminhi), caring (handugan) and preharvest (luy-ahan) [3]. Every step of the way, the blessings of the spirits would have to be sought to ensure bountiful yield.

The Spaniards, under Legaspi, in Cebu have had a hard time securing provisions. They were so deficient with supplies that Christmas of 1565 and New Year of 1566 were spent eating corn, while relations in Mexico enjoyed sumptuous luncheons amidst merriment. They, on the other hand, amidst their wretched situation an ocean away, would have to endure native hostilities and compete with rats for the pittance of corn and herbs that remained for consumption.

  The drive to search for food led the Spaniards to explore the nearby islands and that was how they learned about the abundance of the archipelago. Legaspi’s maestre de campo (aide-de-camp), Juan de la Isla, reached Araut (later called Dumangas), in Panay Island, where he found 300 fanegas of rice (1 fanegas approximately 25.40 kilogram) [4]. It was then that the Spanish leader learned about this island of plentiful rice and honey. 

With the threat of Portuguese attacks, Legaspi ordered the transfer of their camp to the island of Panay, where, in 1569, they settled by the river of the same name, an “impregnable” place and one that abounds with “everything necessary to resist enemy invasion.” [4]

“… we thought that the river Panae would be a more suitable site," wrote Legaspi to the Marquis de Falcis,  "for it abounds in rice, and no one from the sea could prevent us from going up the river to the mountains.”  [5] Unlike the unwelcoming natives in Cebu, the hospitality showed by the Panayanons impressed the Spaniards. When Legaspi finally arrived in Panay, he was “lovingly received”[4] by the two native leaders, Madidum and Manicabug. 

“The people are populous, with a more docile nature than any of the Pintados,” Fr. Gaspar de San Agustin later wrote. Early Spanish settlers called the Visayans Pintados because of their their tattoed skin. The natives planted rice to such an extent that their “abundance is unbelievable on this island.” It is probably because of its fertile earth that the island was called the Sicily of the Philippines by Fr. de San Agustin. 

The sustenance and the goodwill received by the Spaniards would place them at an advantageous position as they set out to conquer the nearby Mindoro and, eventually, Manila. Panay’s abundance of rice, on the other hand, would linger for generations. ( Image under Creative Commons attribution.)

Reference: 

[1] Amorita C.Rabuco (2006). Hiligaynon Mythological Stories and Folktales: Analysis and Translation. Iloilo City: University of San Agustin Publishing House. 

[2] William Henry Scott (1994). Barangay: Sixteenth Century Philippine Culture and Society. Ateneo de Manila University Press.

[3] F. Landa Jocano (1958). Corn and Rice Rituals among the Sulod of Central Panay, Philippines. Philippine Journal of Science, 87 (4).

[4] Gaspar de San Agustin (1998). Conquistas de las islas de Filipinas (1565-1615), translated by Luis Antonio Maneru. Manila: San Agustin Museum. 

[5] Letter from Miguel Lopez de Legazpi to the Marques de Falces, in E.H. Blair and J.A. Robertson (eds). The Philippine Islands, 1493-1803, Volume 3, 1569-1576. Cleveland: The Arthur H. Clark Co., 1907, 1908.

The White Cross of Dumalag

In the early 1600s, Spanish missionaries in Dumalag observed “beautifully worked stone-crosses that fall with lighting.” [1] The occurrence came in regular frequency on the foot of the hill called Panguilngalon  (another version calls in Pamligaron [2]) (now Mt. Blanco). The hill took its name from the surprise that came with sudden thunder and lightning on its tip. When lightning strikes crosses fall from the sky, the natives claimed.

The mountain hosts a series of caves believed to be the abode of babaylanes. In the middle is an altar where natives from all around Panay Island frequent and place their offerings in exchange for the oracles and visions from the priestesses. Christian missionaries, though, alleged that these babaylanes were talking to the devils.

A certain Fr. Morales, unable to convince the natives of the devils residing in the cave, was already bent to abandon the town. One day he went up to the mountain accompanied by many parishioners. There he celebrated the Holy Sacrifice of the Mass. Hardly had the celebration ended when a furious storm broke out with torrential rainfall, accompanied by lightning and thunder. With the rainfall, many little white crosses fell like what the women used to wear around their neck. Some were light blue, others in darker hues. They were described to be “perfectly crafted, the four arms being in equal size, with four perfect corners throughout it all” [1] and seemed to be cut in diamonds.

Many miracles were associated with the white cross. One native who happened to pick the cross claimed his crops were never plagued by grasshoppers. He would secretly bury the cross in the middle of his rice field and unearth it after harvest. Another was healed from her asthma when she dipped the cross in a glass of water before drinking it. [1]

One cross fell near the Mapanag river and native, upon seeing it, picked it up and gave it to the Prior of Panay who in turn presented it to the convent of Santo Niño de Cebu [2]. The white crosses, however, got lost in time. (Image under Creative Commons license)

 References

 [1] Gaspar de San Agustin (1998). Conquistas de las islas de Filipinas (1565-1615), translated by Luis Antonio Maneru. Manila: San Agustin Museum.

[2] Juan Fernandez . (1921, 1923). Monografias de los Pueblos de la Isla de Panay.

Neglected Cemeteries are Heritage Sites, too

A few steps away from where I live is the Catholic Cemetery of Banica, the oldest and the largest in Capiz, if my conjecture is correct. The burial ground’s megasize, however, has its nucleus in the confines of a Spanish wall. An avenue of coconuts and santan welcomes visitors towards a towering arch entrance. At the center of this niche-lined Spanish wall is the domed chapel, covered by moss and ferns and worn out by the absence of preservation.

Spaniards established cemeteries outside of the poblacion for health and hygiene purposes, and practical reasons, as well. Death by cholera, which came in a decadal cycle in the 1800s, numbered by the thousands and it was impractical to host these bodies inside the church (for the rich) and outside (for the poor). The fear of contamination led the priests to bury the dead away from the population [1].

 By1851, el Pueblo de Capiz already had a cemetery outside the town,  which was “in good condition and is capable and ventilated.” [2] Between 1870s and 1880s, Augustinian priest Apolinar Alvarez, "did the work in the cemetery which with later retouching  was finished by his successor P. Lesmes-Perez [3]. Fr. Alvarez was also responsible for the construction of the cathedral from 1870 until 1885. 

The arch leading to the capilla  adds up to the cemetery's imposing feel.  Surrounding the cemetery chapel are the mausoleums of the landed families of the old el Pueblo de Capiz. Lining the avenue from the old archway to the chapel are prominent names: Eleuterio Acuña, grandfather of President Manuel Roxas, a host of Alvarezes, Acevedos, Aldeas and Altavases. What struck me the most is the pantheon of the Deocampo Family, built in the art deco style following the designs of a sculptor named Justo Abiertas. Pastor Alcazar, the trailblazing presidente municipal of Capiz has his remains placed in the discreet corner of his family's vault. Jovita Fuentes' siblings are laid at the family's resting place. Local leader Mabini Altavas' tomb has a statue of blindfolded Justitia, an allusion to his just character.

Cemeteries used to be art spaces and pre- and postwar resting places were made imposing by statues of angels or women depicted in sorrow. Even in death, the notion of keeping up with the Joneses still applies.  Just like the houses of the living need to be close to the church to claim social prominence, in death, one’s position in the community is affirmed at how close one’s mausoleum is to the capilla. No wonder a Chinese mausoleum stood outside the Spanish walls.  The deprived natives who could not cope up in paying the annual dues for the nichos would expect that the remains of their dead relatives to be “cast ruthlessly” at a bone heap at the back of the cemetery. The emptied nicho would then be leased to tenants capable of paying the yearly fees.  [5]

The cemetery is an important part of every Filipino’s way of life, as much as the souls of the dearly departed hold dear in the heart of their loved ones.  Cemeteries are both sentimental spaces and heritage places. Sentimental because by merely looking at the lapida of our dearly departed, we reminisce our past with them, sometimes leaving the most maudlin, teary eyed. Furthermore, a cemetery’s significance lay beyond serving as a mere “memorial park” because it is, more importantly, a heritage site.  They are “venues where customs and traditions relating to the dead and survivors are played out,” [4] evinced on the material culture (architectural style of the pantion, design of the lapida, wrought-iron works, tiles, etc.) and the more complex intangible heritage associated with the cemetery (such as prayers, lighting of candles, food for the dead, and other beliefs and practices).

Historians also frequent cemeteries because they are reliable source materials as we ascertain the lives of famous personalities, trace our ancestry, and validate whether one has really existed or not. A look at the architectural style of the pantion, tomb, mauseleum, arches, walls, and the capilla reveals the age and significance of the church, a remnant of a bygone era. It is, however, lamentable, that we don’t value cemeteries as much as we value churches and old houses. In Europe and the United States of Gilded Age, enjoying a picnic at the cemetery on any given time was fashionable.  Today, however, cemeteries have become the objects of the growing “cemetery” tourism in these countries. In the Philippines, however, except for November 1 and 2, church-owned cemeteries, in particular, languish and left at the mercy of illegal settlers who call neglected mausoleums and pantions home sweet home. At the Banica Cemetery, balete trees are in a creeping spree at the capilla, their overgrowth haphazardly cut without uprooting the roots that damage the structure's integrity.

I'm sharing with you some pictures I took last year. Enjoy! 

A view of the arch entryway to the Spanish cemetery.

Balete overgrowths threaten the integrity of the capilla. 

The remains of Pastor Alcazar, the Batangas-born presidente muncipal of Capiz, was kept in a corner of the family mausoleum. 

Neglected statues of angels, often noseless and handless, litter around the cemetery. 

The Greek-inspired mausoleum of the Acevedos.

The roots of the balete outgrowths are eating away the bas relief of the archway. 

Another Greek-inspired mausoleum, neatly painted for the occassion. 

A statue of a grieving lady adorns postwar graves. 

Angels, mater doloras, and huge cross are parts of the niches of the well-to-do.

Cadena de amor eat up neglected niches. 

A beautiful grave with blind Justicia guarding the dead. 

This angel used to herald a trumpet. It is now lost. 

This art deco mausoleum was designed by sculptor Justo Abiertas.

This niche is lucky the angel is still in perfect shape. 

A closer look at the statue of an angel in one of the niches. 

The capilla , known to the locals as the kalbaryo is the resting place of infants. It has domed ceilings and it the altar stands the statue of Saint Augustine. Family members remember their dead infants by lighting a candle and saying a prayer before the saint. 

The mausoleum of the Fuentes family. 

A statue of a weeping lady is placed on the niche of Eleuterio Acuna, the grandfather of President Manuel A. Roxas. 

References

[1] Michaelangelo E. Dakudao (1992). THE DEVELOPMENT OF CEMETERIES IN MANILA BEFORE 1941.  Philippine Quarterly of Culture and Society, 20, (2/3), 133-150. http://www.jstor.org/stable/29792084.

 [2]  E. Manuel Buzeta (1850). Diccionario Geografico, Estadistico, Historico de las islas Filipinas. Madrid. Book located at Harvard College Library, digital copy available at Google Books.

[3] R.Morales Maza (1987). The Augustinians in Panay. Iloilo City: University of San Agustin.

[4] Grace Barretto-Tesoro (2012). “Heritage Structures in Two Manila Cemeteries.” ACCU Nara International Correspondent The Ninth Regular Report, 33-36. Nara, Japan: Cultural Heritage Protection Cooperation Office, Asia Pacific Cultural Center for UNESCO (ACCU).

[5] Mary Helen Fee (1912). A Woman’s Impressions of the Philippines. Chicago: A.C. McClurg & Co.