Panagbenga

Undoubtedly, Baguio city’s Panagbenga is one of the best attended in the country’s many festivals. Every year, during the month of February, thousands of visitors flock to the city to witness the many different activities of the ‘flower festival.’

Visitors are mostly Filipinos from the rest of the country, though it is not uncommon to see many foreign visitors during the activities. Foreign visitors or tourists, whether they purposefully come to attend the Panagbenga or were just coincidentally in Baguio during the festival, are however outnumbered by Filipino local ‘tourists.’

Perhaps a major reason why the Panagbenga is well-attended is the city’s cold climate, with temperatures reaching their lowest during February just before the climate starts warming up in March. The chance to experience the coldest part of the year in the country’s coldest city continues to be a major attraction, in itself, for local tourists.

That the anniversary of EDSA I is on the month of February provides for a convenient holiday for the staging of the more elaborate activities of the Panagebenga, namely the float parade and the street dancing parade.

The annual graduation at the Philippine Military Academy is also in the month of February also contributes to the congregation of visitors to witness the graduation and the Panagbenga.

Even without the cold of Baguio, the EDSA holiday and the PMA graduation, the Panagbenga has over the years developed into a truly spectacular event that would attract many visitors.

And so every February, Baguio expects hundreds of thousands of visitors. It is no boast that during the float and street dancing parades this year, close to half a million people were estimated to have massed in Baguio City’s central business district.

The Panagbenga’s ‘Session in Bloom’ after these parades also provides for a continuation of the festival that draws hundreds of thousands each day to flock to Session. As do the ‘market encounter’ landscaping displays and other activities in the city.

There is no doubt that the Panagbenga gives a big boost to Baguio’s commerce, for each of the visitors, with local Baguio and Benguet residents who join the festival, spend in the City’s many shops, and the hotels and restaurants expect a boost in their revenues during February. The city’s market is also flooded, and it is predictable that prices adjust to the bigger demand.

If such an influx of people is a gauge of the festival’s success, then the people of Baguio are rightfully proud of themselves for the annual Panagbenga extravaganza.

Yet therein also lies the problem, for the Panagbenga is primarily a commercial event, a scheme to make people part with their money in exchange for the beautiful presentations and sights that the city has to offer. It provides opportunities for businesses in the city to earn oodles of money from the hundreds of thousands of visitors that the Panagbenga draws. Such businesses include the hotels and restaurants, souvenir shops, market vendors, store owners, mall shops, and most other businesses in the central business district. The entrepreneurs who set up temporary stalls in the ‘Session in Bloom’ and ‘market encounter’ are included here.

If the half million who attended last weekend’s activities spent just a thousand pesos each, that translates to half a billion pesos each day of revenues for the businesses to divide among themselves. Such a windfall would justify the expenses that the city government shells out to host the event. From a commercial point of view, it is a huge success.

On the downside, the congregation of people puts a severe strain on the City’s facilities. The water problem that besets the city year round worsens many times over the Panagbenga. Aside from the pesos they bring in, the half million extra people also use up millions of liters of water, so that the city’s water district would need to concentrate supply to the central business district, to the detriment of residents in other areas of the city. The deep well water pumps are sure to have been running at full capacity to do this, and even then water is sure to have been at a shortage, with water delivery businesses getting their share of the boon by stepping up their operations and firing up their own pumps to provide the city’s visitors with water.

There is doubt that such stress on the city’s water table was considered at all. There is doubt that the effects of the excessive strain on the water supply was ever thought of.

Another downside is the traffic that plagues Baguio every Panagbenga. Bad enough during regular days, the standstill during the Panagbenga is a spectacle in itself, with chaos a regular occurrence as visitors and locals jockey around the narrow streets in the attempt to get to their destinations.

Perhaps the biggest downside is that residents of Metro Baguio are the minority in the City’s premier event. Statistics are not definite, but it is safe to presume that less than a fourth of those gathered last weekend were from Metro Baguio. So the spectacular shows of the Panagbenga serve not to entertain and awe the local residents themselves, but visitors from out of town.

Much as they would want to witness the world-famous Panagbenga events, locals mostly stay at home to avoid the massive crowds. It is only the more intrepid locals who join visitors as they stake out the better viewing places in the city streets early in the morning before the big events. Many, visitors and locals alike, often wait overnight so they could get the best views.

The less intrepid would have to be content with less-strategic places. Either way, however, the press of the crowd during the big events is also stressful. Many would be disappointed for not having a good view, and many more would be disappointed because they were crushed in the crowd.

Petty crime during Panagbenga also rockets, with pickpockets, bag slashers, and other lumpen characters sould also flock to Baguio, joining the local thieves, but this is another story in itself.

So the Panagbenga is a success, but it is a success more for businesspersons in the central business district.

For the rest of the city’s people, what the Panagbenga means is heavy traffic, lack of water, and higher prices of goods.

Even then, they are proud of the Panagbenga’s success. What is lacking, ultimately, is for the biggest winners to give back to the people a little something to compensate them for their jubilant misery.

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Baguio City National High School contingents perform at the Athletic Oval during the Panagbenga Grand Street dancing competition. Photo by Redjie Melvic Cawis PIA

A Baguio lass poses during the Panagbenga Grand Street dancing. Redjie Melvic Cawis PIA

The University of Perpetual Help from Biñan, Laguna performs a “Baguio Metamophosis-influenced” exhibition during the Panagbenga Street dancing parade. Redjie Melvic Cawis PIA

 

Paintings during the Let A Thousand Flowers Bloom were paraded along the city thoroughfares during the Panagbenga Grand Street dancing parade. Photo by Redjie Melvic Cawis PIA

A Cordillera lass highlights the performance of a high school contingent at the Athletic Oval during the Panagbenga Grand Street dancing competition.Redjie Melvic Cawis PIA

Local Tourist Desiree Lucas admires flowers on display at a booth of Panagbenga’s Session Road in Bloom. Redjie MElvic Cawis PIA

Baguio Metamorphosis dancers led the Baguio Country Club contingent during the Grand Float parade. The group was the finalist in the ABS-CBN’s Pinoy Got Talent last year. Redjie MElvic Cawis PIA

Department of Tourism Secretary Alberto Lim aboard the DOT float during the Panagbenga Float Parade. Redjie MElvic Cawis PIA

Rabbit floats won in the recent Panagbenga Float parade last week. Here, the SM float tied with Samsung float during the Panagbenga Float Parade. Redjie MElvic Cawis PIA

Sam Milby aboard the Samsung Float waves to the crowd during the Panagbenga Float Parade. Samsung tied with SM for the first place in this year’s float parade. Redjie MElvic Cawis PIA

 

In defense of “extravagant” ritual feasts

The indigenous peoples of the Cordilleras invariably perform several rituals in the life cycle of an individual, from pregnancy until death, and most of the time even after death.

These rituals for the most part involve the slaughter of sacrificial animals, or what may be more appropriately called ritual animals. The type and number of ritual animals depends largely on the ritual itself, and the social status of the family for whom the ritual is performed. Thus a single chicken might suffice, or the ritual might involve the slaughter of several pigs. Some communities would require the slaughter of carabaos, cows or bulls, horses, or dogs. Ritual celebrations might last for a few hours, a day, or several days. And because there are several animals butchered, the entire villages, as well as friends and relatives from neighboring villages, are invited to partake of the feast.

(Photo: A carabao is prepared for cutting up prior to a wedding in Baguio.)

(Photo: Butchering one of two carabaos slaughtered.)

(Photo: Separating the meat to be distributed to those who participated during the slaughter.)

There are a variety of reasons for these ritual feasts. One of the most popularly known are celebrations of indigenous weddings. In many parts of Mountain Province, these weddings are scheduled during particular months of the year, mostly when there is a lull in the activities of the rice agricultural cycle. The reason for this schedule is that the village people would not be unduly disturbed when the wedding feasts are performed. For the same reason, the weddings were performed all at once, together. It was not uncommon to have more than a dozen couples wed at the same time, with celebrations on-going at different houses of a village, and gongs-a-plenty being played in melodious cacophony when several couples wed are neighbors.

The number of ritual animals prescribed as necessary for weddings were the same, and it involved feasts before, during and after the actual wedding. And since no animals are butchered for no ritual reason, this number may not be added to, so that the amount of meat may actually not be enough if the guests to the feast are many. However, if the meat cut up into small pieces still do not suffice, the guests would be as content to sip the stew or soup, and would be just as content in their participation. It was not an uncommon occurrence, since the pigs bred in earlier times were really small, and took several years to mature. The chickens were the same. Even if several pigs and chickens were slaughtered according to the rituals performed, there might not be enough for the assembled guests, and thus while it remains a feast, it would not be a feast of unnecessary extravagance, as indeed nothing is wasted, and sometimes the meat is not enough.

In latter times, this might have changed, since the pigs that we have now grow to gigantic sizes, and so the meat from a single pig now would exceed the meat from five pigs of the traditional variety. The number of required ritual animals have however remained the same, so that the amount of meat now available during feasts has significantly increased. Often, therefore, these ritual ceremonies truly satisfy the meaning of a “feast” in the sense that there is abundance of culinary delights. With our absorption of foreign influences, these feasts now include other delicacies as cakes and salads of all kinds, pasta preparations, candy, and many other purchasable whatnots to tickle our discriminating palates.

Many communities have also lifted the prohibition on the slaughter of animals more than those required by the rituals, so that in many cases, the hosts of these ritual feasts would butcher several more animals than ritually required.

These present-day realities might be the reason why there are more and more people who say that the old ritual ceremonies and the requirement of ritual animals are unnecessarily extravagant. Critics of traditional feasts say that these rituals unnecessarily strain the economic resources of those hosting the rituals, that these hosts are better off investing their resources rather than “wasting” these in “extravagant” feasts.

What is conveniently forgotten by these critics is that ritual feasts traditionally were graduated, that is, the number of ritual animals varies according to the social standing of the hosts, and with those relatively well-off expected to slaughter more, according to their status.  In a way, it was the communities’ way of redistributing wealth among the villagers, for the lesser-off are expected to slaughter less animals for the same ritual. Further, these rituals do not happen only at the behest of the hosts, but as an affirmation of the hosts’ belongingness to the community. It becomes their social obligation, and the rest of the community are expected to help in whatever way they can, either by “lending” mature animals, by helping in the preparations, and assisting in the different tasks during the ceremonies. In many rituals, too, people quite naturally help out by donating to the hosts, either in the form of their labor, rice and other foodstuffs, or by donating ritual animals. These donations are regulated only by the villagers’ ability to extend help and certainly not mandatory. Thus the ritual feasts are actually a culmination of the oneness of the community.

The success of a feast is more aptly measured by the cohesion and mutual-help systems of the village, and the number of guests during the feast.

(Photo: Part of the more than a thousand guests at the Baguio wedding.)

In weddings and wakes, guests are allowed to give donations in many forms. Of course, in older times, these were in the form of rice and other food, their physical labor and presence during the festivities, ritual animals, wine, and most anything else that might be needed. It encouraged the mutual-help systems that existed in those times. Family relations also figure prominently, with relatives, no matter how far removed, chipping in whatever they can to help.

Current times have not diminished the feeling of community and family relations in indigenous feasts. Rather, because we have become more affluent as we engaged in non-traditional economic endeavors, the gifts we give during these feasts have also gained affluence. Instead of the traditional rice and foodstuffs we donated to each other, the availability of cash has many of us giving cash donations during special feasts. It is arrogant for any of us to refuse whatever help our guests give us, for these guests are merely affirming their belongingness to the community, or our relations with them, or both. It is their way of saying that they are one with us.

With all the donations that our guests and the members of the family and community readily share, it is but natural that newly-weds, for instance, would not scrimp on the preparations, and provide the community with a feast worthy of their being counted as members of that same community.

The mutual-help systems, while they yet exist, are the reasons why our feasts continue to be relevant and practicable. When we lose these systems, then indeed feasts like the ones we hold now would really strain the economic resources of hosts, and would become truly unnecessarily extravagant.

Of course, critics of indigenous feasts might base their notions on their acquired religious biases, but that is another story.

 

Statement from CHESTCORE on Dr. Leonard Co

COMMUNITY HEALTH EDUCATION, SERVICES AND TRAINING

IN THE CORDILLERA REGION

( C H E S T C O R E )

Resurrection Cathedral Compound, 362 Magsaysay Avenue, Baguio City 2600

Tel. (074) 4422572/ Email: chestcore81@yahoo.com

 

 

 

The Cordilleras cry out with grief over the loss of Leonard Co, a great scientist who devoted a major part of his life to documenting the Region’s medicinal plants and indigenous knowledge about their use in the book Medicinal Plants of the Cordilleras. During the decade of the 1980s, Leonard served as staff of the Community Health Education, Services and Training in the Cordillera Region (CHESTCORE).

Leonard helped build community-based health programs among indigenous peasant communities in the Mountain Province, Ifugao, Benguet, Abra and Kalinga. He endured treacherous rides along rocky mountain roads and trekked up many steep trails on foot to reach communities suffering centuries of government neglect and lack of social services. He trained local health workers on the use of medicinal plants and the practice of acupuncture so they could attend to their community’s health needs.

Leonard was a living example of the practice of ‘science and health for the people’. He refused to be confined to the university or the laboratory. He patiently interviewed elders and traditional healers, learning local culture and traditions. Drawing on his knowledge and skills, he recorded and systematized the people’s collective knowledge and practice on medicinal plants. He did not use this body of work for his own personal career or economic advancement but instead offered it back for the communities’ benefit and use. In fact, his contribution benefits not only the Cordilleran communities but enriches the body of science and health knowledge we can all draw upon.

It is but unfortunate that Leonard’s years of service to the people was suddenly cut short by a few minutes of gunfire.

What happened to Leonard is not an isolated case. Many health professionals working in farflung communities have been accused of aiding or being members of the  New People’s Army or the Communist Party of the Philippines. Instead of being lauded as heroes for choosing to devote their lives to community service and for opting to give up opportunities for career advancement abroad or in private practice, many of them have been harassed, arrested on false pretenses and even killed. Most prominent examples include the killing of Dr. Bobby de la Paz in Samar, the summary execution of Dr. Johnny Escandor who served in Bicol, the attempted assassination of Dr. Chandu Claver in Kalinga and the arrest and continued detention of the Morong 43.

We strongly condemn the killing of Leonard Co and two of his staff at the hands of the Philippine Army’s 19^th IB. We demand that justice be served and those responsible not be allowed to hide behind the guise that Leonard and his companions were “caught in the crossfire”.

We salute Leonard for being a people’s scientist and a health worker for the people. Whenever a community health worker in the Cordilleras prescribes medicinal plants or gives acupuncture treatment, we shall remember Leonard and pay him the highest tribute by continuing his work and his legacy. #