Injun Joe

It was in the 1960s and the 1970s that our grandfather, Angel Agpad, was recognized as an indigenous healer.

His prowess as a healer was perhaps better appreciated in villages other than his home village in Sagada, Mountain Province, though even then many of the local folk would approach him for remedies to whatever ailments or discomfort that they might be feeling. Remedies that he prescribed were mostly concoctions from the many herbs that he had, with indigenous prayers and sometimes with the ritual slaughter of chicken.

He was also skilled in a form of reflexology and acupressure, as well as in the mending of dislocated joints or strained muscles. “Mangngilot” was a term used to refer to him to reflect this skill.

These remedies are mostly lost to us now, though we his grandchildren were beneficiaries of his skills, as the odd headache, sprained ankle, diarrhea or other complaints seemed to disappear after we ingested a bitter herb, were massaged by him, or drank chicken soup.

His remedies were primarily traditional, but he was astute enough to recognize the shortcomings of some of his prescriptions, specially in dealing with infections. For this, he also carried with him powerful antibiotics that he mixed with the traditional cures when the complaints involved dangerous infections. In other cases, he would actually recommend that the patient seek the help of medical professionals, if the malady is beyond his prowess.

Our grandfather walked with a limp, with one of his legs always askew, making it necessary for him to carry a cane wherever he went. That he walked with a limp perhaps bolstered his reputation as a healer, for to reach the many villages he ministered to, he had to walk many kilometers. His perseverance in these long treks perhaps added to people’s faith in his abilities, and thus ultimately increased the effectiveness of his cures, as “patients” were psychologically more receptive of the cures.

For one reason or other, our grandfather was referred to as “Injun Joe,” another example of how the people of Sagada bestowed names upon their brethren. The name stuck, and until now, we his grandchildren would occasionally refer to the patriarch as Injun Joe.

Injun Joe visited many villages as a healer, going to Ilocos Sur, Abra, Kalinga and wherever he was called to serve. In these places, he invariably made friends – with the people he healed, and with people in general. It was not uncommon that these friends would give him gifts when he finally left their village. Thus Injun Joe would come home to Sagada laden with goods such as tobacco, dried meat, dried beans, and whatever his “patients” gave him in appreciation of his work.

Up to now, his descendants are not surprised when the descendant of those he healed would visit Sagada and renew friendships with the family, in an enduring appreciation of Injun Joe’s healing abilities. They are manifold, and it is not uncommon that his indigenous name Agpad has become part of the roster of names of those he helped.

One of the more significant friendships that Agpad has developed is with the people of Betwagan, Sadanga, Mountain Province.

He has been to the place several times as a healer, and also as a guest to the many traditional ritual feasts of that village. His continuing interaction with the amiable people of Betwagan further bolstered Agpad’s relations with them.

Yet perhaps what makes his relationship with Betwagan so special is the story of how he performed a seeming miracle as a healer.

In one of his visits to the place, he came upon the people at a wake, watching over one of their kin, apparently dead. Agpad did not believe that the person was dead, and convinced the people that they should first try to revive the “dead” person. Agpad came up with herbal concoctions that they force-fed or otherwise ingested into the person.

The person was revived, and lived a long life.

Perhaps some other person could have noticed that the person being mourned was not yet dead and could be revived, and perhaps that person could have administered a remedy to make it happen. A medical professional most certainly would have been able to, and in the process would have gained the enduring appreciation, and friendship, of the people of Betwagan.

Serendipity however put Injun Joe in the place where he could help, and it was upon him that the people of Betwagan bestowed their generous friendship.

Since then, our extended family in Sagada became the close friends of several large families in Betwagan. Our names, both the indigenous ones and Christian baptismal names, became the names of our friends in Betwagan. Nay, they are more than friends, but brothers, sisters, family.

They come in numbers to join us in our celebrations, or to help us in our hardships. Whenever we visit their place, they treat us like royalty, so that we often are reduced to embarrassed gratitude. Whenever they visit us, they bring with them the usual token gifts of rice, and the ever-present basi or sugarcane wine.

Such relations have endured for several generations already, and we hope that it will continue forever, so long as our lines endure. We hope that eventually one of the descendants of Agpad marry into the families in Betwagan, and so seal a relationship he started by being a healer.

 

 

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.

 

Fiesta in Sagada

It is arguably the coldest time of the year in the Northern hemisphere, though I have not been in other countries during the closing days of January and the beginning of February. If this statement is contradicted by the more traveled of my readers, then I will content myself with arguing that it is the coldest time of the year in Sagada.

Temperatures in that place have always been relatively colder than the surrounding places, owing to its higher altitude than, say, Bontoc. Besao is lower, too, and its temperatures are somewhat tempered by the air from the China Sea, for Besao is on the slopes of the mountains facing the sea.

Sagada, however, is some hundreds of meters above Bontoc, and it is sheltered in a valley of sorts between mountains, and thus the air from the China Sea does not aid in regulating its temperature. Even in Bontoc and Besao, the people regularly complain of the cold at this time of year, though people from these places would agree that indeed Sagada is consistently colder than their hometowns. Perhaps the only colder places in the vicinity are the Bauko villages of Bangnin and Balintuogan, which are located higher than Sagada.

It is coincidental that the feast day of the Anglican Church in Sagada is during this time. Because the church had greater power than government in American colonial times, its celebration of its feast day naturally became a community activity, accompanied by games and general festivities.

In earlier times, other parishes were invited to participate in the activities. Anglican church schools were also invited to the games, to compete with Sagada’s St. Mary’s School.

And so it became a tradition that during the coldest time of year people flock to Sagada to attend its fiesta. The municipal government later on made the occasion its town fiesta, and with the establishment of the many public schools in the municipality and neighboring municipalities, the fiesta became an even bigger occasion with more people participating. Later on, government offices and other local government units as well as private organizations would also want to participate in the games.

As the congregation of people became regular, enterprising vendors would also congregate in the town, so that during the fiesta there is scant space not filled with wares being sold. Such wares include every imaginable article, from cooking pots to clothing, from toys to vegetables, from dried fish to plastic ware. It became a habit of Sagada’s people to wait for the fiesta to buy new clothes and shoes, or bolos and pots, as well as tools like shovels, forks, and hammers.

The games during the occasion have been varied, from the ubiquitous softball, basketball and volleyball, to tug-of-war, breaking the pot, races, and indoor games. It is also undeniable that these more wholesome games are accompanied by the not-so-wholesome, for it is a public secret that for several decades already, the fiesta in Sagada is also the time when gamblers from all over get together to play Monte. There have been stories of gambling patrons losing the money they should have used to buy a new pair of pants, or a new hoe.

Even the youngsters are drawn into gambling, for it is not uncommon that during the fiesta some kids would find a secluded place in Sagada’s valleys and ridges where they imitate their elders by gambling away their lunch money.

Yet the fiesta in Sagada still holds a special allure, for people of all kinds congregate there during this time, whether to watch the ballgames, participate in the more boisterous tug-of-war, compete for prices in the races, or to chance winning in Monte. Earlier generations also took every opportunity to go home to Sagada during the fiesta, for it is also a time to meet old friends and peers.

Going home during the fiesta became so much of a tradition that not attending it was almost a sacrilege.

And so those who could not go would wait for news and stories as to what happens during the fiesta, and somehow share in the jubilation, however whimsically.

As this item comes out, the fiesta in Sagada would be in full blast, and the people actually there would once again be jubilant in their celebrations.

As for the rest of us, our not being there would be magnified by the cold, and the cold weather would be emphasized by our not being there.