It is said that the Takibo fishermen of Laguna wear hoods not just to protect their their skin from the sun, but also to hide their faces from the fish as they act as executioners as well.
Catalino Bactat. Marcos Mausoleum Caretaker.
(From 2011 prior to more recent events)
The Marcos tale came full circle at his mausoleum in Batac where his remains lay encased in glass in a darkened room. The inevitable question that entered my mind and those of countless others who have come here before me, “Is that the real McCoy?”
“That is the President,” claims Catalino Bactat, the warden. “His body has been coated with wax to preserve it and keep it from decaying.”
He should know, he has been the crypt’s gatekeeper from the time the President’s remains were flown in from Hawaii in 1993. The air-conditioning was not for my benefit, it was to keep the remains cool. The lights dimmed, to minimize the heat. But I still didn’t know what to make of the eerie music piped in from an unknown source.
The caretaker was quite a character and a study in effectiveness Directing crowds with authority and precision. No photos please was his mantra, and he would not hesitate to confiscate your camera if you were caught sneaking a photo.
It had been Marcos’ dying wish to be buried at the Libingan ng mga Bayani. the Libingan ng mga Bayani was “hallowed ground meant for true heroes” and that Marcos did not belong there. And so the impasse continues.
But for it is business as usual. And until the decision makers and the powers that decide such matters relent, he will continue to usher visitors, never tiring of the questions and talk fondly of his ward who lies in state, whom he continues to dutifully serve.
Buntal Hat Maker
Buntal hat weaving using buntal leaves was not just an art form but a cottage industry in Baliuag, Bulacan in the early 1900s. Every household became a production center as housewives contributed their skills and time to make buntal hats. The weavers specialized in different parts of the hat and the assembly was a collective process.
Buntal hat-making is a dying tradition. Most of the weavers are elderly. The tedious process to create buntal hats does not appeal to the young. There is demand for the hats but sadly, not enough people with the skill and interest to produce them.
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Yin-Yang. Mantigue Island Twins.
"Your joy is your sorrow unmasked. And the selfsame well from which your laughter rises was oftentimes filled with your tears." - Kahlil Gibran
While leisurely strolling around Mantigue Island, a lush four-hectare islet fringed by reefs and white sand just off the main Camiguin behemoth, I came upon the twins playing in a beached bangka. The children were part of the 20 families or so that made up the small fishing community that drew its livelihood from the sea. As I approached, one burst into laughter. The other became distraught. Two different reactions to the same situation.
I returned to Mantigue around 2015, 10 years after my visit, with the intent to take an updated photo of the twins, only to discover that several families from the fishing village had been relocated when the entire island was declared a marine sanctuary. I heard that the sisters had moved to Anda in Bohol. They should be in their early 20s by now.
I wonder how life has treated them. I would like to see them again and see how things have turned out. I wish them more reasons for joy than sorrow.
Davao Street Food
Dod's. Touted as the best street food in Davao City.
Panga. Isaw. Sinugba. Usual fare made extraordinary by genuine hospitality and the common touch and comfort reminiscent of lola's kitchen.
Just real food in a no frills setting. Among real people.
Wakeboarder. Mati.
A local wakeboarder who rides the waves of Dahican in Mati, Davao Oriental.
One minute, you're having a chat with them on the shore. In an instant, you find yourself alone as they dart to the sea to catch a wave.
The Marawi Siege
For five months, government troops with the Scout Rangers, Infantry, Light Reaction forces, and the Marines at the forefront, battled violent extremists intent on establishing Marawi as an Isis stronghold in the far East. When it was all over, Marawi was a city in ruins, resembling Raqqa and Mosul.
Waddy, the Irrawaddy Macot and Jona
Waddy the Irrawaddy mascot grins as he watches over World Wildlife Fund (WWF) environmental advocate Jona Miguel finish her report.
Waddy makes the rounds of schools, seminars and events to help educate people about the plight of the critically endangered Irrawaddy dolphins. The number of Irrawaddy dolphins in Malampaya Sound in Taytay Palawan has dropped to less than 20 heads. A few scientists have already projected the inevitable extinction of this species. The late WWF project manager Mavic Matilano refused to concur to the pesimistic assessment and was hopeful that the Irrawaddy could still be saved. Unfortunately, Mavic the primary advocate of the Irrawaddy, passed away in 2020.
Adams. Ilocos Norte.
I had left the shores and the flatlands and ventured up the mountains for Adams, a small highland town, at the rim of the Cordillera backbone, where a postcard view awaited in almost every turn and residents of Igorot decent held to their old ways. Its pastoral seclusion may not last long as word of this secret spot in the hinterland has already gone out. Only the 14-km stretch of rough unpaved track cut off Adams from the outside world. And the prospect of a paved road could facilitate the arrival of the crowds.
They made their own wine in Adams from bugnay fruit, the local berry that grew in the wild. I opened a bottle and sat on a bench outside the slanted house, amongst the flowers, savoring the essence of a lost idyll captured in a half-filled glass. I lost track of time, deep in my own thoughts.
Surrounded by peaks and verdant green city-less horizons, I could sit here and wait for the berries to grow and the wine to age.
2010
Liana Mora. Rock Star.
Ranked number one in women's bouldering in 2015-2016. Women's Open Champion of the 2015 Habagat National Bouldering Competition and the NUS 2015 Bouldering Active Champion in Women's Intermediate category (Singapore).
Beside a running river strewn with rocks and boulder near the border of Cagayan de Oro and the province of Bukidnon is a place where Liana hones her skills.
Liana burst into the scene from nowhere and has been dominating national competitions.
They Call Him Bin-Laden
Aga Khan Sharief's resemblance to Osama is what earned him the monicker. But his exploits are far from nefarious. During the Marawi siege, he negotiated with the Maute/Hapilon group for the release of hundreds of trapped civilians. He went inside the main battle area several times to arrange for short ceasfires so that other residents could be rescued by joint AFP-MILF forces.
Tamarraw Ranger
Rommel, a ranger who watches over the Tamarraw at Iglit-Baco National Park.
Tamarraw count for 2013 --- 345 heads!!
From over 180 a decade ago to almost double the number, steady as she goes. Baby steps still but making progress.
Rommel and other rangers like him risk life protecting these endangered animals. No insurance pay, no overtime pay. Just sheer dedication and sacrifice.
Pen Medina as General Malvar
General Miguel Malvar as portrayed by Karl Medina in the National Historical Commission of the Philippines (NHCP) documentary.
The thirteen months that transpired between the capture of Aguinaldo and the surrender of Miguel Malvar are, without question, the most celebrated period in Batangas’ history. Long after most of the Philippines had been pacified, the Batangueño guerillas held out, sustained by a substantial sector of the non-combatant population. In that period, the province of Batangas came to symbolize the Filipino resistance, and the name Miguel Malvar became synonymous with Filipino defiance. But, as is always the case with lost causes, the price to be paid for valor of this kind was high. To quash the resisters of the southern Tagalog region, the U.S. Army resorted, in the end, to extreme measures. Had the Batangueños been less dogged, they would have suffered less.
- From Battle of Batangas by historian Glenn Anthony May
Man with a fish. Apo Island.
Difficult to believe that over 40 years ago, the reefs of this tiny island off the coast of Dauin, just outside of Dumaguete, were in a state of plunder, ravaged by unhindered dynamite blasting. Rehabilitated through the pioneering efforts of marine biologists from nearby Siliman University in Dumaguete and, equally importantly, participated in by the local community, the place was declared a marine sanctuary. Fishing was prohibited in no take zones and the area was policed against dynamite and cyanide fishers. Now four decades later, coral has regenerated and fish have returned. The reefs have come back from the dead and now teem with life. It serves as a lesson in renewal; its template to be reapplied wherever marine ecosystems are in need of rehabilitation.
Boronggan Surfer
Carlos Aga, one of the best surfers in Borongan. A legend in Eastern Samar surfing folklore.
A pioneer and pillar of the local surfing community, Carlos is a keeper of secrets -- of breaks and surfing spots from the channels to the outer islands, a lifetime of discoveries made by exploring the 100-kilometer stretch of coastline of Eastern Samar since the 1990s.
“There is a need to change the image of the surfer. People used to look down on surfing because they couldn’t see what it was for. They thought we were just being reckless.”
Beauty Queen
To raise awareness of their prized indigenous fabric, the provincial government of Maguindanao celebrated the Inaul festival and invited known personalities to don and showcase different inaul-wear designed by local couturiers. I was presented with a random opportunity to take a spontaneous simple head shot of someone who would eventually represent us in a prestigious global pageant several months later.
Bitatawa Hunter
Love and the Bitatawa hunters of the Sierra Madre
The chances of spotting a bitatawa in the Northern Sierra Madre National Park are very slim. To improve the odds, I employed the services of Mulvie, a forester that British biologist Stephanie Law had relied on to track down the reptile when she was doing her research on the species brought to the world's attention by National Geographic. Mulvie the forester had a scrawny dog named Seksi who aided him.
Seksi would be set loose in the forests. When a bitatawa was spotted, she would chase it up a tree, then stay at the base while continuously barking to alert the other foresters. They were able to capture several bitatawa this way. The bitatawa were released shortly after.
Seksi, along with local teens, was with us on our trip but it had just rained and there were too many monkeys, which probably confused the dog. Our attempt to meet a bitatawa was not successful. Nevertheless, it was a good trek inside the canopy, leeches and thorns aside.
I returned to Maconacon years later to reloop with Mulvie but according to the locals, he had already left the country. He and Stephanie had already hooked up and are now a couple based in the UK.
Bitatawa Hunters
Love and the Bitatawa hunters of the Sierra Madre
The chances of spotting a bitatawa in the Northern Sierra Madre National Park are very slim. To improve the odds, I employed the services of Mulvie, a forester that British biologist Stephanie Law had relied on to track down the reptile when she was doing her research on the species brought to the world's attention by National Geographic. Mulvie the forester had a scrawny dog named Seksi who aided him.
Seksi would be set loose in the forests. When a bitatawa was spotted, she would chase it up a tree, then stay at the base while continuously barking to alert the other foresters. They were able to capture several bitatawa this way. The bitatawa were released shortly after.
Seksi, along with local teens, was with us on our trip but it had just rained and there were too many monkeys, which probably confused the dog. Our attempt to meet a bitatawa was not successful. Nevertheless, it was a good trek inside the canopy, leeches and thorns aside.
I returned to Maconacon years later to reloop with Mulvie but according to the locals, he had already left the country. He and Stephanie had already hooked up and are now a couple based in the UK.
NAVSOG. Flag Laying. Philippine Rise. Independence Day 2017.
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The Philippines owns a 13-million hectare continental shelf, 250-kilometers east of Isabela. This underwater plateau is rich in biodiversity and has been designated as a "protected food supply exclusive zone". It is now called the "Philippine Rise".
In celebration of our independence, the Philippines declared its sovereignty over it by planting our flag underwater. This is the NAVSOG team with its technical divers who executed the mission.
Tikog weaver. Basey.
Top quality mats are displayed in several stores around Basey town. But to see them being made, one must head to a cave in the lethargic barangay of Basiao, at Samar’s southern point, an hour and a half ’s drive from Tacloban. Although just off the main highway, I had difficulty finding the exact location. There were no signboards to point the way. Fortunately, the locals were very helpful.
Under the cool shelter of a low-ceilinged rocky overhang, the womenfolk come together almost daily to weave mats from dried, dyed tikog grass. Tikog grass turns brittle and breaks easily in warm temperatures. For weaving, cooler conditions are therefore required. The shade under the cave furnishes the perfect setting.
Weaving entails patience and attention to detail. The weavers deftly intertwine every strand of grass, following established patterns to craft intricate designs. As the work is repetitive and tiresome, the weavers in all likelihood gather and interact to break the monotony. Indeed, I observe them in conversation as they go about their work, their fingers moving almost instinctively, not missing anything. I found them accommodating, good-naturedly entertaining all my questions.
Banig may not have the same prestigious ring as t’nalak cloth or piña. But make no mistake; neither craftsmanship nor quality is second rate.
At the top of the Giant Balete Tree. Baler.
“Tabi-tabi po. Nakikiraan po.” Excuse me. Just passing through.
The words flowed out continuously as I maneuvered from one exposed appendage to another knot within the hollowed out trunk of the massive balete tree. Making my way to the top of the tree utilizing vines, branches and roots as grips and foothold, I was concurrently seeking the indulgence of its residents -- dwende, engkanto, tikbalang, kapre and other elementals and spirits harbored in the cavities and ancient branches. My superstitious upbringing guaranteed my familiarity with decorum with the infamous tree and its mystical creatures. I was deliberate with my behaviour around their lair, avoiding loud noises, crass words, sudden movements or anything that could be considered a provocation. I knew better than to unwittingly offend them lest some harm, illness or misfortune might befall me. I wasn’t taking any chances. I negotiated the vertical tunnel more preoccupied with supernatural notions than with the climb itself.
I exited the core to an overhang where branches now shot upward along with twisting roots and coiling stems, lending itself to a languid and easy climb the rest of the way to the top.
The balete is known for its menacing nature. It cannot thrive on its own, its survival hinging on a nurturing host it destroys as it grows. Knotted tendrils eventually shrouded and overwhelmed the host, literally strangling the life out of the support tree, a hollow core the only thing that remains.
The type of beings that would inhabit such an ominous habitat would be similar in disposition to the dwelling place. Evil attracts evil, I suppose, comprehending the draw of the balete to malevolent creatures.
But I was not fooled by daylight. I knew the kapre and tikbalang were there, out of sight and hidden among the gnarled tendrils for now, more tolerant perhaps and passively taking in all the activity. Silent. And watching.
Perhaps I should return to climb the tree at night, in total darkness with only the light from a full moon to keep me company. In that less than ideal setting, what creatures may reveal themselves?
Now that would be something else.
The Enriquezes
The grandchildren of Vicente Enriquez, Gregorio Del Pilar's aide-de-camp and one of the eight survivors of Tirad Pass. The two are clutching portraits of Del Pilar and their grandfather.
Photographed at the Enriquez Ancestral House in Bulacan. An image of Marcelo del Pilar (Plaridel) looms in the background.
