The Talaandigs: Chanting, dancing and waking the earth

To quote Dr. Carmen Unabia, an anthropologist, "They spread from the bulan-bulan, the center of the world (which they believe to this day), but when the Bisayans came in waves, the Talaandig moved to the interior. Hence, they were called the Bukidnon (people in the mountain) by the Bisayans, and Monteses by the Spaniards."

This Holy Week, I met Bukidnon’s former governor Boy Tabios, Carmen and Gening Unabia, Shirlene Sario, Tony Sumbalan and Rex Dagawasaan, Jonally Santoninio, Valla Labaria – who are all history lovers – and Datu Migketay "Victorino" Saway. Saway is a Siliman University graduate of anthropology and manages the School of Living Tradition.

Arriving in the Saway’s two-storey nipa hut that serves as a school in Songko, Lantapan, one finds minorities (who were once the majority being the founding tribe of the peoples of Bukidnon) called the Talaandig, who trace their origin to Saulana, the lone male survivor of a tremendous deluge. In Datu Vic’s school, everyone is encouraged to learn their forefathers’ chants, myths, dances and music to "wake up the beavers and shake the ants below the earth."

Vic and his wife Lisa teach both children and adults to speak their dialect, the Binukid, in its original and pure form. The expressive ceremonial dance dugso from the more elaborate Kaliga rites is performed to rouse the heavens with a loud clap after raising the hands in supplication.

The stomp of the dancers’ feet, all women now on the bamboo floor, is meant to drive away the evil spirits of the underworld. The children keep on dancing uninhibitedly at one command, they’re teens with an inborn sophistication.

I enjoyed the monkey dance best, performed by two boys who hopped around, pulled lice out from each other’s hair, made funny faces, crossed their eyes, scratched their bodies, shook their heads dizzy. I’m laughing to this day.

The Talaandig religious fervor lies on a Being, Magbabaya, who wills everything like the Moros’ Allah and our God. Their history is in the Gugud, an ancient prose narrative relating their beginnings and that "of the universe, man, spirit beings, beliefs, socio-economic and political institutions fashioned in the course of man’s development. Specifically, Gugud recounts the primordial events which the Bukidnons view as their sacred origin," Dr. Unabia added.

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In this hut’s barehall, an altar table was covered with a white table cloth signifying goodness. A smaller red cloth was laid over it, as well as another white cloth. A plate was on top with 40 small betel nuts or nganga, the food of the spirits, formed in a circle which stood for the peoples of the world. In the middle were three betel nuts grouped together, one in the center, one facing east, one west. These stood for the three spirits, guardians of all that it is good. Bagani (the brave), Alimaong (the fierce) and Bagalad (the defender), are all spirits of justice.

In front of the plate were 15 coins in semi-circle and laid face up – gifts to the spirits for peace. These coins, the Talaandigs prayed, were so "our bodies would not be blown by the wind but held firm on the earth with the coins’ weight." In front of the plate was a miniature bolo. By the handle were 19 pieces of ginger cut into small pieces. According to Dr. Unabia and Datu Vic’s translation of the Gugud, the ginger’s pungent taste which permeates the chicken, is meant to weaken all bad spirits, particularly the spirit of nuisance called Manektek Dawang-Dawan Maladpalad that causes disturbances in humans. On the right side of the altar was another red cloth and on top of it, a white fabric. This white cloth would be cut in little pieces to give to the guests to cherish and bring them enlightenment and truth.

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It was time to begin the ritual of reconciliation with Magbabaya. The Saway couple sat on a chair on the left side of the altar facing the congregation, predominated by women, children and a few men, who sat on banigs woven by the women. The Saways individually held white chickens. On the right side of the altar on the floor sat Waway Saway, the drummer and flutist, who has performed in Belgium, America and The Netherlands. So far away from this mountainous place of Bukidnon! Waway with his four musicians would tap on four different sizes of drums made from felled trees around their village to accompany the dancing. But right now, he held a brown chicken with four other men. I counted three whites and four browns in all. The more colors, the better as they symbolized the gracious holy spirits. The seven chickens stood for the earth, water, wood, sun, fire, the spirits and the power of speech. The chickens were offered in exchange for our earthly bodies’ good health. The chickens’ death would bring us life.

To start the ritual, an old crumpled female singer chanted the traditional sala, a song called Pananghid, to prepare the spirits to receive us so they would not be taken by surprise at our presence or requests. Prayers followed. The white chicken’s neck was then placed on top of a white plate. The miniature bolo from the altar was unsheathed and this was used to cut the chicken’s neck, its blood dripping on the plate. The other chickens suffered the same fate.

That done, Datu removed two feathers from his white chicken. Dipping the tips of two feathers on the plate, he swiped it over the chicken’s blood. He blessed us all with a swish of the bloodied feather on our hands – palms up and then palms down – to cleanse and protect us from bad influences. The drip of the blood would be the "thread to lengthen our lives."

We sat listening to the drums and flutes, enjoying the dances while the chickens and rice were steamed in preparation for eating. Datu Saway explained that every part of the chicken carries a blessing depending on what the person chooses to eat. "The chicken’s heart symbolizes compassion," Datu said. "If he chooses the head he will be a good leader and will keep his leadership. The wings will bring happiness through safe journeys."

Eating the chicken legs meant that one would not tire in his voyages. To pick on the eyes would mean the person would not be deceived. The tail of the chicken would entice followers to adhere to their leader. The neck would make the person who ate it see everything even from afar. The chest would bring love and brotherhood.

This offering would not be complete without the cleansing element of water that symbolizes clean lives, a clear environment in a friendly neighborhood. (I picked the skin on the neck with my right hand and the chest with my left. Did I disturb their Magbabaya’s trend of thought? I hope not.) Now that we had all eaten, we sat on our mats and prayed that the spirits would watch "our growth" as we flourished with great vitality.

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This Gugud has been told a trillion times, but each time its myths and rituals affirm a people’s early enlightenment and even their recent cultural, economic, social patterns of existence and their coping mechanisms.

One reads in the Gugud that Agbibilin and Ginamayon had eight children. Their four boys married their four sisters in intervals to prevent the curse of an incestuous marriage. As the years went by, Alauya, one of their four sons, had grandchildren who settled westward and became the ancestors of the Maranaos. Saguntuan’s children flourished in the south, and they became the ancestors of the Maguindanaw; Sabuntung’s spread in the east and they became the forefathers of the Manobo. Saulana’s people, the Talaandig survivors of the flood myth remained in Bukidnon and thrived in Bulan-bulan mainly and spread over the north central area up to the northern seacoast of Central Mindanao. There, one notes the origin of the tribes of Mindanao and that peace, yes, peace, reigned in the South before Islam and Christianity reached our shores. An example is that of Datu Malengmeng who initiated peace by knotting four rattan strips loosely. The four Sultans of these tribes mentioned each tightly knotted rattan with the promise to respect territorial boundaries. Consequently, the Lantings or boundary guards came to be, which meant, that without their permission, no one had the right to pass through the other’s domain. Another significant Talaandig ritual was the relinquishing of power from a Sultan or Datu to the next leader by handing over a jar of sacred oil.

In Maguindanao, it is the ceremony of stepping over white sand that makes a Sultan, legitimizing the inheritance of leadership, honor and title from one Sultan to another.

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Our ethnographic research brought us to the Benedictine Monastery where the dark-complexioned Lady of Monserrat reigns over Bukidnon sitting high above on top of a tiny white stone proportionate to her modest size. It was brought by the Bishop of Monserrat from Spain for her enthronement in Bukidnon. Oils, white sand, white stone, interesting, isn’t it? All three signifying authority and blessedness.

The altar at this new Benedictine chapel built by Lindy Locsin is a huge volcanic rock with silver leaves and flowers protruding from the front of this multi-porous gray stone. The podium is made of a curved weather-beaten tree trunk from the Benedictine’s garden. A cool breeze floated from the mountains and clear blue skies on both sides of the church. Its marble floor shone with the sun’s reflection. The high ceiling cooled us.

I couldn’t possibly end this without mentioning Gang Gomez who is now Dom, as the brothers are called in the Benedictine order. Gang is Dom Martin de Jesus Gomez and has lived with other Benedictine monks for 12 years. He has designed priests’ vestments in indigenous materials and of delicate piña embroidered with flowers, leaves, scallops, so worthy to wear for the holy sacrifice of the Mass. Every vestment is on display in America.

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Yes, we were a time-honored, educated race way before the coming of Muslim traders or sharifs and Christian conquerors. Our forefathers through legends, epics and myths made contact with the sublime as a self-explanation for being and to understand his universe. Some of the myths have led me to the affirmation of primary sources, identical locations in today’s existing people, towns, valleys, mountain ranges, streams and rivers. I wouldn’t have discovered this if not for my being – as Architect Conrad Onglao calls me – a female Indiana Jones.