*438. STAN C. CARBUNGCO: The “Rock from Porac” Who Muscled His Way to Mr. Universe

STAN'S THE MAN. 
First Filipino and first Asian bodybuilder to place in Mr. Universe.

The icon of Philippine bodybuilding, Estanislao “Stan” Carbungco was born on 13 Nov. 1931, the youngest of 7 children to Don Ambrosio Ocampo Carbungco with roots in Porac, and Doña Angelina Cuenco. His father, a former chef of Casino Español for 8 years, was a successful restaurateur, founder of the popular Carbungco Restaurant, a renown catering and dining place in pre-war Manila, with a branch in Antipolo.

Though the young Stan was raised in a comfortable household, he learned from his father the value of hard work, who had no qualms washing dishes and doing menial jobs in his own restaurant.

He spent his school years at the Far Eastern University, where he finished high school. He would later finish his Commerce degree at the same university.

Sickly growing up, Stan began doing weight training in a gym. He became so good at it that he was soon immersing himself deeply in physical culture. His parents did not exactly approve of his interest in bodybuilding, which was not a common sport at that time.

There were only a few visible musclemen in the 50s , and one of them was Jesus Ramos, Mr. Philippines of 1951, who became a certified star after appearing in a series of jungle movies, and dubbed as the Philippine Tarzan. Then there was Olympian Rodrigo del Rosario, who, en route to  placing fourth in the 1952 Helsinki Olympics,  set a world and Olympic record in the military press portion of his event.

Hoping to join competitions, Carbungco continued to train in secret. In 1954, he qualified for the Mr. Philippines bodybuilding contest, and to his surprise, won the his first of two national titles. He would duplicate that achievement by winning the Mr. Philippines title yet again in 1959, which would proved to be his most successful year.

It was an exciting time for a 28 year old to fly to Montreal, Canada as the first ever country representative to the 1959 Mr. Universe bodybuilding contest. an event organized by the International Federation of Body Building and Fitness. He traveled alone, without a retinue to assist him, but that did not seem to faze him. He not only made bodybuilding friends from around the world—but also history for Asian sports.

Carbungco placed 1^st as the Most Muscular in the Medium class division, and earned runner-up honors to Mr. Universe Medium class. In the overall class, the unheralded athlete was named second Most Muscular after Eddie Silvestre of the U.S., who went on to become Mr. Universe. To him goes the distinction of being the first Filipino and only Asian to break into the winning circle, a feat unprecedented at that time.

Upon his return, Carbungco made a major shift by concentrating on weightlifting rather than bodybuilding. It was an opportune time as the 1960 Rome Olympics were coming up, and he was hoping to follow the footsteps of the prodigious Rodrigo del Rosario who, 8 years before, had pressed 231 ¼ lbs. , a new Olympic Mark in his featherweight division. He began powerlifting, and at one point, he was lifting weights that would have been good for Olympic bronze or silver.

Indeed, Carbungco was being touted as a sure Olympic bet and medalist in weightlifting, but his Olympic dreams were dashed when, after appearing in a print ad for boat motors, lost his amateur status for being paid as an endorser.

Carbungco was sadly frustrated over this disqualification, but he never looked back. Instead, he stepped up his efforts to promote the sports of bodybuilding like never before.  After his competitive days were over,  he put up a weight and fitness center, ‘Stan Carbungco’s  Gym”, in Quezon City where he personally trained and mentored many young physical culturists.  To meet the growing needs for gym equipment, Carbungco pioneered the local manufacture of weight-training equipment and gear in the Philippines.  The well-patronized gym had a loyal following, and the hallowed institution for bodybuilding has been in operation for over 50 years now.

All his life, Carbungco devoted his time and energy to the fitness sport he loved. For many years he headed the Philippine Federation of Body Builders, an official affiliate of IFBB which fields Filipino bodybuilders to various competitions abroad. He also co-founded the Powerlifting Association of the Philippines (PAP) in 1982.

The legendary bodybuilder, "Mang Stan", as he was called in his later years,  passed away at age 81 on 10 March 2012. He left behind his wife, Edna Oquendo-Carbungco and their children, and a legacy of health and fitness advocacies that he passionately pursued, and which continues to inspire Philippine sports to this day.

SOURCES:

Sibug, Edgardo. “PORAC: A Rancheria at Batiauwan 1594-2004”, © 2003. p. 280

FB Interview with Mr. Tiny Carbungco, son of Stan Carbungco

Tiny Carbungco FB Page

Jeffrey dePadua Panela

Lolo Stan Carbungco Tribute: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ef9a9q9g3f4

Uploaded by Grace Carbungco, published April 3, 2012.

Stan Carbungco tribute: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=n7hqbaut5UI

Uploaded by Beng Gonzales, published 22 March 20102, accessed 2 Nov, 2018.

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bodybuilding_in_the_Philippines

http://www.philippinewatchclub.org/forum/viewtopic.php?f=39&t=13717

Iron Pinoy : https://issuu.com/ironpinoy/docs/ipmag2011may-june/29

https://issuu.com/ironpinoy/docs/ipmag2011may-june/29

https://www.ironpinoy.com/a-short-history-of-philippine-powerlifting/

Special thanks to Mr. Ed Escolito Escobar

*412. SPANISH HACIENDEROS IN PAMPANGA

LORD OF THE LANDS. Spaniard Jose Puig,  a successful owner of  a milling business and a 
 dealer of sugar milling machiinery, owned and operated the vast Hacienda Puig in Pampanga.

In the economic heyday of Pampanga brought about by its lucrative sugar industry, scoress of Kapampangan landowners raked in untold wealth from the fat of their lands. Prominent names like Mariano Pamintuan (Angeles), Jose L. De Leon, Roman Valdes (Bacolor) Augusto Gonzales, Manuel Escaler (Apalit), Jose Maria Panlilio (Mexico) , Vicente Lim-Ongco (Guagua) and Manuel Urquico were top on the list of the province’s richest and most influential hacienderos.

 Joining them were a small group of Spaniards who took residence in Pampanga in the 1800s, after the government lifted a ban against living in the provinces. They acquired lands, became agriculturists and founded viable extensive estates. (The Chinese showed no interest in land speculation, opting to engage in commerce, manufacturing and processing of products.)

 A list of landowning Spaniards from 1887-1888 included about 58 names—fewer than those in Negros, possibly because Pampanga landowners tended to hold fast to their lands, thus creating difficulties to outside investors. Many of these Spaniards also appeared to have leased their property than personally run the affairs of their land. At the turn of the 20th century and into the early years of American regime, the list of prominent Spanish sugarland owners include the following:

The Arrastias. The patriarch of the Arrastias of Lubao was,Valentin Roncal Arrastia, a Basque from Allo, Navarra, Spain, who went to the Philippines to seek his fortune. He, not only found wealth in the country, but also a Kapampangan wife—Francisca Serrano Salgado of Lubao. The couple’s consolidated properties included their vast hacienda planted with sugar and rice, as well as flourishing fish ponds that provided a luxurious life for their 9 children. Befitting their stature, the Arrastias built a magnificent residence sometime in the first two decades of the 1900s, fronting the Lubao municipio. 

The Gils.  In the 1850s, the colonial government allowed the selling of lands to Spaniards and one beneficiary was Spaniard Felino Gil. He turned his land parcel of over 530 hectares into the Hacienda Mamada de Pio. Gil was first of many generations of his family to settle in their Porac hacienda. While other Spaniards sold off their lands to natives who divided them into smaller portions. But Spanish settlers in towns like Lubao, Floridablanca and Porac retained their large estates, some as big as 1000 hectares. The Gils remained in Porac for a long time, including a nephew from Valencia, Spain-Rafael Gil.

The Puigs. Spaniard Jose Puig, who has been accumulating lands for over years, established a profitable sugar milling business and the selling of agricultural equipment back in the 1890s. He became a well-known dealer of steam mill machinery, which he also leased out to farmers. He is credited for the shift into steam milling by many Pampanga farmers. Puig remained a farmer in the province after the arrival of Americans. Other Puigs like Francisco Puig continued the landowning tradition by acquiring 51 hectares of rice and sugarlands. A daughter of Don Honorio Ventura married a Puig and settled in Barcelona.

The Toledos. By 1854, Roberto Toledo had amassed large tracts of agricultural lands in the Porac-Lubao-Floridablanca area, which he rented out. His son, Roberto Jr. managed to increase the landholdings to over 3,000 hectares. He become one of the most progressive sugar planters in Pampanga. The Toledo estate was not spared from the violence in the late 1930s that rocked Pampanga’s sugar areas, which caused landlowners to form an association to protect their interests. The Toledos and their casamacs settled for a 50 centavo increase –raising their pay to 2 pesos per ton, for every cane delivery to Pasumil.

 The Valdeses. Hacienda del Carmen was founded in Floridablanca by Capt. Basilio Valdes of the Spanish Navy, who married a Manileña mestiza, Francisca Salvador. The agricultural lands were later managed by his children, led by Benito Salvador Valdes, a doctor, who was a classmate of Jose Rizal at the Universidad Central de Madrid in 1885. During the Revolution, Valdes was imprisoned in Fort Santiago for charges of complicity. Later, Benito Salvador became the director of San Juan de Dios Hospital in 1900. With first wife, Filomena Pica, he had a son, Dr. Basilio J. Pica Valdes who became the president of Hacienda del Carmen, aside from being Quezon’s Chief of Staff and defense secretary. The place where their tenants lived and work was named Barangay Valdes.

 Other known Spanish landlords included Don Ricardo Herreros (who owned an 81 hectare sugarland), Vicente Borrero, Julian Blanco, Manuel Fernandez, Juan Landaluce, Dolores Lombera and Emilio Borrero.

 The days of those grand Spanish-owned haciendas are now long gone—the properties sold by the original owners’ descendants, subjected to land reform, or redeveloped as residential subdivisions.

Vestiges of Spanish colonial power and presence could still be seen in some parts of Pampanga—the Pio Chapel and the manor of the Gils remain in Porac looked after by caretakers, and barangay Valdes continues to thrive in Floridablanca. The fabulous Arrastia mansion has been sold and relocated to Bataan as part of the Las Casas de Acuzar heritage resort. Finally, Kapampangans could re-claim and live on their lands again.

Sources: 
John Larkin, The Pampangans / Sugar and the Origins of Modern Philippine Society
Sugar News 1925 ed.

*392. THE AUGUSTINIANS AMONG US

FR. SANTIAGO BLANCO, the last Spanish Augustinian priest of Pampanga, as a young priest. He was sent to Pampanga upon his ordination in 1928 and stayed on, long after the Order let go of its parishes. H dies in Bamban in 1993. Courtesy of Monsgr. Gene Reyes. 

No other missionaries had more impact in the creation and development of provinces than the Augustinian frailes that first arrived with Miguel Lopez de Legazpi tour islands in 1565. Just 9 years later, 1575, the Provincia del Santissimo Nombre de Jesus de Filipinas was already in place to manage effectively the affairs of the missionaries in their pastoral turfs.

To their credit, the Augutinians founded 250 parishes—the most by any order, and 22 of these were in Pampanga. Some of these missions include Lubao (1572, founded by Fray Juan Gallegos), Betis (1572, Fray Fernando Pinto), Mexico (1581, with Fr. Bernardino de Quevedo and Fr. Pedro de Abuyoas as the first priests), Guagua (1590, Fray Bernardo de Quevedo), Candaba (1575, Fray Manrique) and Macabebe (1575, Fray Sebastian Molina).

 The product of their missionary zeal resulted in many achievements that contributed to the advancements of Pampanga towns. Great builders all, they designed and constructed some of the most beautiful churches in the country—Betis and its baroque decorations, Mexico and its cimborio, Bacolor—said to be the most beautiful in the province, and Lubao, the biggest of all Pampanga churches. 

From building grand churches, the Augustinians also founded th schools or escuelas—parochial centers of learning—in Bacolor, Betis, Lubao (Estudio Gramatica later Colegio de Lubao, 1596) and Candaba (Estudio Gramatica, 1596). They also became the first mentors of students, as they became more adept at the local language.

 It was the Order that put up the first Augustinian printing press in the country that published pioneering printed materials—from grammar books, dictionaries and novenas. Augustinian friars like Bacolor founder Fray Diego Ochoa, authored the first Arte, Vocabulario y Confesionario en Pampango while Macabebe’s Fray Tallada wrote the first published Kapampangan book--Vida de San Nicolas de Tolentino (1614). 

 Among the Augustinians were erudites like Fray Guillermo Masnou, who made a study and an inventory of the herbal plants in Pampanga. Fray Antonio Llanos was taken by Mount Arayat’s curious shape, its flora and fauna, and the rivers that flowed from its core, inspiring him to study Pampanga’s mythical mountain.

 As a result of their effective evangelical labors, the Augustinians were allowed some autonomy by the Vatican, with little interference from the diocesan bishops in the supervision of the fledgling churches and the administration of the sacraments. Pampanga thus became a showcase of the Augustinians’ missionary work all throughout the Spanish colonial period and beyond.

The parishes of Lubao, Betis, Sasmuan, Porac, Minalin and Sto. Tomas continued to be administered by the Augustinians well into the first half of the 1900s; the last town to go was Floridablanca, whose last Spanish parish priest was Fray Lucino Valles, founder of the St. Augustine Academy in 1951. Other chose to stay here permanently long after their order's duties were over. 

Such was the case of Fr. Santiago Blanco, a true blue Spaniard, fondly called Apung Tiago by his Kapampangan constituents. Ordained in 1928, Fr. Blanco was assigned to various towns in Pampanga, including SantoTomas, Betis and Porac. He was responsible for the repainting of the church interiors of Betis during his 1939-49 term. His next assignment was Porac where he served as parish priest and Spiritual Director from 1950-1959.

When the Augustinians let go of their last remaining parish in Pampanga, Fr. Blanco requested to be left behind. In 1963, his application to become a secular priest was granted by the Holy See. Fr. Blanco moved to the newly created Diocese of Tarlac and became an honorary Monsignor and an Episcopal Vicar.

Fr.Blanco took residence in Bamban until his passing in 1993, his lifeworks in Pampanga a testament to the unflagging Augustinian missionary heart and spirit.

*331. IN THE SWIM OF THINGS

SINK OR SWIM.  Every summer, Kapampangans beat the heat by going to their favorite swimming holes, like this Sta. Rita teen in a period swimsuit posing before a natural pool. Ca. 1920s From the Gosioco Album, CKS copy.

The heat of summer is upon us, and amidst this stifling sizzle, we find ways to fight off the searing temperature. Many find welcome relief in going to air-conditioned malls or theatres, while others choose to cool off with a tall glass of Razon’s halo-halo and maybe, a refreshing iced buco juice or melon shake from a roadside stall. Still, for some, the best way to beat the heat is to find a watering hole or a pool to go swimming in.

 Before the advent of modern water resorts and their fancy swimming pools, Kapampangans living by the banks of the Gran Rio de la Pampanga fended off summer heat by simply take a dip in the shallow portions of the river and swim with the slow current for a kilometer or two. Picnickers, on the other hand, preferred the baños (baths) of Arayat-- swimming holes fed with the cooling spring waters that descended from the mountains.

For many Kapampangan youths in the 20s and 30s, Arayat was the equivalent of Antipolo, its forested slopes offering a shady refuge, dotted with many natural pools believed to contain medicinal properties. The baths of Arayat would soon be expanded and organized into the Mount Arayat National Park, a protected recreational area that continues to operate today.

Magalang benefitted from its proximity to Arayat, as the town too, had many natural swimming pools that were regularly visited by local townsfolk and tourists from nearby provinces. Similarly, in Mabalacat, Mascup River in Barrio Bana was also a favorite camping and swimming spot by excursionists during summer vacations. Entrance was always free.

As far back as the 1900s, the more adventurous American servicemen stationed at Camp Stotsenburg, delighted in the wild, rampaging waters of Bamban River. Whole troops regularly went to swim here to escape the tropical heat, but swimming was always a challenge as the river was crammed with stones and large boulders. In Porac, Mayamit Falls was another option, but the arduous trip to the waterfalls is not for the faint-hearted.

Early swimming pool resorts made their appearance in Angeles in the late 30s. Paradise Resort was a favourite summer haunt. Standard swimswear included bloomers for women and one-piece swimsuit for men. In Abacan, Balibago, the Del Rosario Swimming Pool opened to the public in 1958. It featured an adult pool with a diving board and two kid-sized pools and were always full-packed with families during the summer break.

The housing boom in the 60s also resulted in the establishments of residential villages with their own clubhouses and exclusive pools. Villa Angela was one such subdivision, and I would remember swimming in the village pool along with the fathers of Sacred Heart Seminary. Marlim Mansion, located at Severina Subdivision in Balibago, was one of the first high-rise hotels to feature a swimming pool as part of its modern facilities. By the mid 70s, Olympic size pools were the standard in Forest Park in Angeles and Yap Park in Dau.

Today, of course, water sports facilities abound in Pampanga with dizzying modern features and themes to cool the hot and harried Kapampangan. In Fontana, Clark Field, there are water slides and pools with machine-generated waves. Clearwater offers more than just swimming, but also kayaking. In Apalit and Mexico, I have seen water resort complexes with fantasy themes that are more like amusement parks than swimming places. Why, we even have our own Boracay in Pampanga, aptly named Poracay!

So when the next heat wave strikes, look around—there’s always a body of water near you: a river, a brook, a resort club or a village pool. Get into your swimsuit, grab a rubber tire, and plunge right in!

*307. OF TREES, TOWNS AND TOPONYMS

BUT ONLY GOD CAN MAKE A TREE. A whole forest of balakat trees shade a camping site at sitio Mascup, a favorite resort of domestic tourists in Mabalacat, Pampanga. The tall, hardwood tree gave the town its name. Ca. 1920s.

The names of Pampanga towns are among the most unique in the Philippines—and leading in intrigue and mystery would be, to my mind, Mexico and Sexmoan. Mexico’s name, for instance, has always been a source of puzzlement for toponymists—researchers who study of place-names. One fanciful version has it that Mexicans (Guachinangos of Northern America) actually lived in the town and gave it its name. More controversial is the name of Sexmoan, which has, though the years elicited gasps of disbelief from visitors, due to its seeming sexual overtones.

No wonder, the town has reverted back to the local version of its name—“Sasmuan”—a meeting place—as it was known to be an assembly point for people around the area whenever Chinese insurgents threaten to overrun the region. Of course, there were other ways of naming towns, and the more common would be to name them based on their distinct geographical and natural features, including flora and fauna typical of the place. It was in this manner that many towns in Pampanga got their names.

 Apalit, for instance, got its name from the first class timber called ”apalit” or narra (Pterocarpus indicus Willd.) that grew profusely along the banks of Pampanga River. Betis was named similarly—after a vary large timber tree called “betis”(Bassia betis Merr.) that grew on the very site where the church was constructed. It was said that this particular tree was so tall that it cast its shadow upon Guagua town every morning. Another border town, Mabalacat, derived its name from the abundance of “balakat” trees (Zizyphus talanai Blanco) that grew around the area. The balakat tree is known for its straight and sturdy hardwood trunk that were used as masts for boats and ships of old.

The riverine town of Masantol owes its name to the santol tree (Sandoricum koetjape Merr.) , a third class timber tree. It may be that the place had an abundance of these popular fruit-bearing trees but another story had it that local fishermen bartered part of their catch with the tangy santol fruits carried by Guagua merchants that plied the waters of the town. Santol was the favourite souring ingredient of the locals in the cooking of “sinigang”, and soon, the town was overrun by santol fruits.

A tall rattan plant gave Porac its name, as we know it today. The red Calamus Curag can grow up to 8 feet and is known locally as “Kurag” or “Purag”, later corrupted to Porac. Nearby Angeles City was once known as Culiat (Gnetum indicum Lour. Merr.) , a woody vine with leathery leaves that once grew wild in the vicinity. Not only while towns, but countless barrios and barangays were named after trees, shrubs, hardwoods, plants and vines—Madapdap, Balibago, Cuayan, Pulungbulu, Mabiga, Sampaloc, Baliti, Bulaon, Dau, Lara, Biabas, Alasas, Saguin, Camatchiles, to name just a few.

Some of the trees that grew so thickly in different parts of our province are now a rare sight, with some considered as bound for extinction. For many years, the only balakat tree that could be seen in Mabalacat, were two or three trees planted in the perimeter of the Mabalacat church. Culiat is listed as an endangered plant and a few examples could be found in Palawan and in U.P. Los Baños, Laguna. Sometime in 2003, Holy Angel University in Angeles City made an effort to collect plants and trees that gave their names to Pampanga towns and barrios. Today, these can be seen growing in lush profusion around the school atrium. By saving these trees, we also save histories of towns for the next generation to learn, to value and to appreciate.

*244. YESTERDAYS IN SAPANGBATO

STONEY RIVER. Sapangbato, once a vast frontierland, is today, Angeles City's biggest barangay. Its progress is linked with nearby Camp Stotsenburg, America's largest military installation in the Philippines, which depended on the Sapangbato for supplies and labor force. Ca. 1912. 

Angeles City’s biggest barangay (around 18.8 hectares) , Sapangbato, was once a rugged, unfriendly land, marked by thick forests and cliffs, bisected by a strong stream (sapa) that flowed and brought large stones (bato) down its route, as it made its way to lower Pampanga. Long before the American military came to claim large portions of Sapangbato, Negritos lived and hunted freely here, scrounging for root crops like yams and cassava, and roaming the wilds of nearby Mabalacat, Porac and the mountains of Zambales. 

 There are claims that Sapangbato was the property of Ludovico Narciso, a former town head of Mabalacat, who was said to have registered the place under his name during the Spanish times. In fact, old residents assert that marriages, births and deaths occurring in Sapangbato were registered in the town as well, up to 1892. Unfortunately, all municipal records were burned during the last war and no documents have yet been recovered to validate this claim. 

 One thing was certain though; the arrival of the US 7th Cavalry in 1901 was a turning point in Sapangbato’s history, and their settlement of the place would result in the establishment of Fort Stotsenburg. The population of Sapangbato started to swell beginning on 12 May 1903, when families of those who joined the Philippine Scouts migrated to the said district. 

 Thus, Sapangbato became a melting pot of sorts, a place of convergence for Kapampangans, Tagalogs, Negritos and Americans. Its progress was intertwined with the development of Fort Stotsenburg. Not only were residences built, but also markets, sari-sari stores, a church and schools. In 1918, a teacher, Glaciano Cruz, went to Sapangbato and set up a school in the shop of Mr. Geirge Seltzer. Civilian American families settled in Train Barrio, Hill Barrio and Veterinary Barrio, but they would often venture into the commercial area of Sapangbato to do their marketing and shopping in open-air tiendas that sold fruits, vegetables, meats, dry goods, and domestic products. 

On the other hand, the locals who were employed in Stotsenburg lived at the perimeter of the barrio closest to the camp, called the “civilian line”. In 1931, however, they were required to move further, to the barrio proper. Sapangbato’s proximity to the military camp caused it to be placed under constant surveillance by the U.S. military police, who kept watch on gambling and drinking activities. 

 At the height of the second World War, most of the buildings in Sapangbato were torched by the American military, with the exception of the school, the church and the market. Today, a site called “Grotong Hapon” can be found in Purok 6, near the cemetery, where Japanese soldiers who lost their lives in the last war lie at rest. 

 Several natives of Sapangbato have played crucial parts in the barrio’s long history. Gen. Lucas was the first and only Aeta to be appointed as a military head officer of Negritos by the commanding officer of Stotsenburg, giving him the rank of a general. Don Lorenzo Sanchez, for instance, sheltered Manuel L. Quezon in his home as the American forces pursued Aguinaldo and his party who had earlier sneaked into Angeles. 

 Similarly, Don Segundo Tayag opened his house to battle-weary revolucionarios, supplying them with food and clothes. It was said that Don Segundo gave up his bedroom to sleep on a bench outside, which caused him to fall ill of a respiratory disease that claimed his life. 

Of course, a modern day celebrity from Sapangbato is currently making waves in the U.S.and around the world as a member of the Grammy award winning hip hop group Black Eyed Peas: Apl. De Ap (born Allan Pineda Lindo Jr.). 

 With the re-development of Clark Air Base as a commercial business district with an international airport to match, Sapangbato continues to bustle with activity, as it did when Americans were still around--only this time, the barangay is moving forward with a livelier beat, in keeping with the quicker tempo of progress that the whole of Angeles now enjoys.

*239. THE ART OF THE KURAN

GONE TO POTS! Clay pots sold by street hawkers in a neighborhood market, a common sight in rural villages all over the Philippines, including Pampanga. Utilitarian earthenware vessels were indispensable staples of everyday life, used primarily in cooking and storing food and water. Ca. 1910.

A favorite plaything from our childhood was a set of little clay kitchenware consisting of a small kalang (clay stove), kuran (cooking pot), tapayan (water jar), banga (water pot) and matching clay plates and tumblers. “Kurang-kurangan”, we called these glazed, functional ware—we actually used them to cook rice and simple viands when we played house in my sister’s ‘bale-balayan’. These earthenware toys were found for sale everywhere—in front of the big church after Masses, in public markets. But to my mind, the best ‘kurang-kurangans’ were those sold during fiesta time, which came in all sorts of colored glazes and finished with painted designs. There were more pieces to choose from, and I remember building an extensive set which we kept in the ‘banggera’ of our play house.

Making pottery was an early art adeptly practiced in old Pampanga. Earthenware vessels were known in our pre-colonial history, and shards have been found in Porac, Lubao, Guagua and Candaba that date back to the 13th to 16th centuries, a period of active trade with our Asian neighbors. Some have been dated to the Metal Age of Philippine pre-history. Indeed, places like Balanga (Bataan) and Iba (Zambales) were derived from pottery terms—and at least one barrio in Mabalacat bore the old name of “Iba”—which, according to local history, was the home of many “maniba”, or clay pot makers.

The basic pot that Kapampangans know is called “kuran”, used for cooking rice. Variations of this vessel include the “balanga”, which has a wider mouth and is used for cooking dishes. For storing water or other liquids, the "banga” is used which has a higher rim. There were, of course, other creations of clay that were used for other purposes like the bibingkaan (round clay deep dishes for cooking rice cakes), pasu (flower pots), tuliasi (2-handled pot), tapayan (water dispenser), oya (rimless jars) and lariu (bricks). In all cases, the same ‘kuran’ technology is employed in their manufacture.

The process of making these earthenware vessels is long and tedious, with many steps involved. First, clay (pila) and sand material had to be sourced from swamps (pinac), open clay fields, riverbanks or even termite mounds. The materials are mixed by hand, foot or by machine. A lump of clay is then prepared for molding, which could be done in several ways—by tampi or pukpuk (by paddling, for ordinary kurans), gilingan ( by foot-powered turntable, ideal for tall vessels) and by moldi (by casting, as in the case of bricks).

Finishing involves incising designs, cleaning, smoothening the surface of the pot and slipping, in which a fine solution of clay and sand is applied to the pot to give it a distinct color (e.g. black sand or ‘kapalangan’ mixed with clay will give the inside of pots a desirable black color, while ‘balintawak’-red pottery is a result of using a red-slip solution of fine red earth and water. When the pots are dried, they are ready for final polishing (buli) using a whetstone or a shell. The last step is firing, through an open fire pit (dapugan) or a closed kiln (tamban). The pots are then dried on a bed of hay, away from direct sunlight.

Today, the art and technology of the kuran is slowly vanishing. Gone are the days when you could find pottery stalls practically everywhere in Pampanga—from Calibutbut-Telabastagan to the barrios of Floridablanca, Sasmuan, Lubao and Tabun in Pampanga. Even the ‘kurang-kurangans’ of my childhood past are getting harder to find—the last time I saw a set was in this year’s Mabalacat fiesta, offered by a vendor whose wares came from Pangasinan. The pieces were very crude and garishly painted with lacquer—which meant that you could not possibly cook in them lest your guests die of lead poisoning!

Happily, the town of Santo Tomas still maintains a flourishing pottery industry, unlike nearby Apalit which once had a dominant pottery business. True, there are more decorative pieces of pottery now than kitchen earthenware—made obsolete by metal pots and pans—but the creative mangkukuran of Sto. Tomas should still be given credit, for in their deft hands, the traditional art of the ‘kuran’ survives.

*238. THE GILS OF PORAC: Acting is All in the Family

ROSEMARIE'S BABIES. The Gils, a family of actors led by mother Rosemarie and children Michael, Mark and Cherie Gil, hail from Barrio Pio, Porac. Their Spanish bloodline is courtesy of Don Felino Gil, founder of the first trade school of Asia and a Spanish military man who became a hacendero in Porac. ca. 1963.

Rosemarie Gil, Cherie Gil, Mark Gil, Michael de Mesa, Sid Lucero, Ryan and Geoff Eigenmann---who has not heard of this talented family of Kapampangan artists who left their marks in acclaimed movies and TV serials like “Oro, Plata, Mata", "Gaano Kadalas ang Minsan", "Bituing Walang Ningning", "Grazilda", “Batch ‘81”, "Miss X", "Pasan Ko Ang Daigdig", "Palabra de Honor", "Unfaithful Wife" and "Selda".

Two generations of Gils continue to liven Philippine cinema arts today and credit should be given to the one who started it all—Rosemarie Gil—who traces her Hispanic-Kapampangan roots from Porac. Though Manila-born (b. 9 March 1942), Rosemarie’s family comes from Barrio Pio. She is directly descended from Don Felino Gil (1804-83), a Spanish military man who was assigned to Porac to prepare the area for the coming friar missions as well as to secure the forests which were a chief source of lumber for the projects of the Spanish government. Gil impressed his Spanish superiors and was rewarded with large tracts of lands which he converted into a profitable sugar hacienda.

Don Felino Gil went on to found the Escuela de Artes y Oficios de Bacolor, the oldest vocational school in Far East Asia, now known as Don Honorio Ventura Technological State University. He married Carlota Aguilar, and his great-great grandson would turn out to be Carlos Gil, Rosemarie Gil’s father.

Rosemarie Gil, like her daughter Cherie, was known for her rich socialite-villain roles, but surprisingly, she was introduced in a religious movie in 1958, in the title role of “Santa Rita de Casia (Patrona ng Imposible)”, opposite Lauro Delgado, who portrayed the saint’s wayward husband. This movie turned out to be a hit, but in the 60s, she married Eddie Mesa (Eddie Eigenmann, in real life), putting her stardom on hold, while her husband, known as the Philippines’ Elvis Presley, enjoyed a flourishing career as a singer and actor. The couple would eventually settle in the U.S., separate and then reconcile

Rosemarie went back to make movies for international release in the 1970s, starting with “Manda” (1970), “Night of the Cobra Woman” (1972), “Master Samurai” (1974), and the remake of “Siete Infantes de Lara” (1973). It was in 1977 that she made her presence felt in the 1977 critically-acclaimed “Burlesk Queen”, starring Vilma Santos. For her role as Virgie Nite, Rosemarie earned a Gawad Urian nomination the following year.

In the 80s thru the 90s, Rosemarie continued to appear in dramatic movies such as “Problem Child”, “Dear Heart” (1980), “Bata pa si Sabel” (1981), “Bagets” (1984) and in the HBO-produced mini-series inspired by the 1986 People Power Revolution, “A Dangerous Life” (as Tingting Cojuangco). In 1990s, she was in blockbuster hits like “Anak ni Baby Ama” (1990), “Maging Sino Ka Man” (1991), “Mulanay” (1996) and “Wansapanataym: The Movie” (1999). Rosemarie was also seen in telenovelas such as “Anna Karenina” (1996), “Sa Puso Ko, Iingatan Ka” (2001) and “Hiram” (2004).

Meanwhile, her children were also making their own mark as actors of note in dramatic movies. Cherie Gil (b. 12 May 1965) is undoubtedly one of the best contravidas of Philippine movies, best known for making life miserable for megastar Sharon Cuneta in the movie, “Bituing Walang Ningning” (1985). As the villainess Lavinia Arguelles, she spewed out the often-quoted put-down line, “You are nothing but a second-rate, trying hard copycat!”, while dousing Sharon with a glass of water. Siblings Mark Gil (b. 25 Aug. 1961) and Michael de Mesa (24 May 1960) are also seasoned actors on TV, stage and the silver screen. The next-generation Gils, led by heartthrob Geoff Eigenmann, continue to thrill Filipino fans on TV and Film.

The Gils have since upped and left Porac—only the controversial Pio Chapel—part of the Gil hacienda constructed in 1861, remains of their once vast homestead. This property has since been sold. The Gils may have already uprooted themselves from Pampanga, but in movies, stage and films, they continue to shine and make their presence felt, in the same league as the Dela Rosas and Fernandezes—actors, thespians, singers, dramatists, zarzuela stars, Kapampangan performers all--who once ruled the golden age of Philippine cinema.

*203. DOWN BY THE RIVERSIDE

MASCUP RIVER. Picnickers frolic in the crystal-clear waters of Mascup River in sitio Bana, Dolores, Mabalacat, Pampanga. The river was a popular destination of local tourists since the 1920s, when the Tiglaos, on whose property the river flowed, developed the area as a natural resort. Ca. mid 1920s.

True, the great Pampanga River is one of the more well-known natural resource that defines the Kapampangan landscape. However, there are other bodies of water in Pampanga—rivers, estuaries, creeks and streams—that are no less important though not as known, providing Kapampangans with livelihood and leisure, main sources of nurture for farms and fields, and in the same vein, causes of some of the province’s most devastating tragedies. Snaking across the province “antimong ubingan” (like a snake) and branching “sanga-sanga” through towns and barrios.

The eruption of Mount Pinatubo brought many of these rivers into our consciousness and on national news. At the foot of Kamias Mountain in Porac is a stretch of the Gumain River, a pathway to the lowlands often used by the hardy Aetas. The river’s water source is Mt. Abu in Zambales, where it streams to Floridablanca and converges with Porac River in barangay San Pedro (Floridablanca) and Sta. Rita (Lubao). Torrential rains often caused the Gumain to flood the entire Lubao region. The cataclysmic eruptions of Pinatubo in 1991 buried the river.

Porac River descends from Mt. Dorst and Mt. Cumino, meandering through Porac, Del Carmen and Lubao, until it joins Gumain. The 1991-1997 lahar years brought unspeakable horror to Porac, causing the town’s evacuation as well as damage to property. Mancatian Bridge was washed out, 119 houses were buried and 3 Japanese perished while attempting to cross the swollen Mancatian River.

An often-mentioned name during the Pinatubo years, is the Pasig-Potrero River. With headwaters from Mt. Cumino, the Pasig-Potreo drains the area of Porac-Angeles and Sta. Rita-San Fernando. Its course shifts erratically, bringing along sand and silt deposits to the plain lands.

The capital city of San Fernando has a river of the same name that originates from Pampanga River and which cuts through Mexico where it is known as Sapang Matulid. When San Fernando River crosses Bacolor and Betis, it is called Betis River—merging with the Dalan Bapor River in Guagua that flows through the larger Guagua-Pasak River.

Another river—Kabalasan—is actually a major tributary of Sapang Balen in Angeles. It joins Calulut River and Sindalan River, losing its water as it heads towards Maimpis where it flows as Maimpis River. These rivers, like many others in the region, derived their name from their unique natural characteristics. Similarly named rivers in northwest San Fernando is the Malino River (named after the clarity of the water) and Pandaras River— “daras”, a gouging tool used in boat-making.

Every town it seems, has its own “Sapang Balen”, but the Sapang Balen of Angeles has a history that is intertwined with Taug River. This creek that cuts through the town proper follows the old path of the Taug River . At one point in time, Taug fed into Abacan, and its ancient riverbed is now occupied by the area that includes Brgy. Cuayan and Carmenville subdivision. Sapang Balen is heavily polluted now and currently, there are efforts led by the local church officials to keep it environmentally safe and clean.

Taug River is an offshoot of Ebus River that originates from the foothills of Mount Pinatubo. It joins Abacan River near Bo. Anunas. The river ( actually a creek that comes to life only during the rainy season) scared the city residents during the Pinatubo days when lahar from Pasig-Potrero River threatened to spill into its channel-- too narrow to contain such water volume. Had the worst case scenario happened, Angeles City would have been engulfed by lahar and pyroclastic materials. Taug River has had a history of dangerous overflows. In 1881, as recorded by Angeles historian Mariano Henson, a typhoon caused Taug River “to swell up to a murky clay-ey tone into the Sapang Balen creek, causing the destruction of three bridges”. Three more overflows were recorded in 1885, 1919 and 1961.

Abacan River separates Balibago (once a part of Mabalacat) from Angeles City proper. Abacan means “ early lunch or brunch”, because in the old days, traders from Mexico and other towns would sail on the once-deep waters and reach Culiat by lunch hour. It made national news on 15 June 1991 when the Abacan Bridge collapsed due to the surge of water and pyroclastic materials from the Pinatubo eruption that the shallow river.

The town of many rivers—Lubao—has interestingly-named waterways that evoke the physical nature of the place: Matsin, Mansanitas, Pinanari, Atlu Busbus, Pulung Kamuti, Maubingan, Sapang Pari, Kuwayan, Kulasisi and Sapang Ebun, Sapang Payung, Sapang Balas, Balantacan.

In Mabalacat, a once-famous watering hole and picnic site since the 1920s was the Mascup River in sitio Bana. Large rocks dot the river banks and its crystal-clear waters were perfect for swimming and wading. Sadly, just like the many rivers in the province affected by Pinatubo, the waters of Mascup flow no more.

Rivers may overflow, ebb, dry up, change course, get silted and polluted. But many resilient Kapampangans used to the fickle ways of nature continue to live by the river’s side. Conditioned to the changing seasons, to the cycles of floods and drought, they live, adapt and thrive--by learning to go with the flow.

*158. Shall We Dance?: TERAK KAPAMPANGAN

TAKE THE LEAD. A folk dance presentation by San Simon Elementary children nattily dressed in Maria Clara costumes and barong tagalog. Ca. 1930s.

One of the most horrifying experiences to happen to a student with two left feet is to be picked as one of the folk dancers in a high school day presentation. I not only remember the moment of selection, but also the title of the dance—it was a strangely-named dance called “Pandanggo Buraweño". Thank God, we didn’t have to wear funny costumes like the “Manlalatik” dancers and their ‘coconut bras’ or use unwieldy props like the sticks for “Sakuting”. It was just a simple dance that we practiced after school hours, and our performance was just as simple and forgettable.

Our Philippine dance tradition started long before the Spaniards reached our shores. When Magellan arrived in Cebu, chronicler Antonio de Pigafetta took note of the song-and-dance entertainment provided by the natives. Ritualistic dances such as those done by babaylans and the hunting dances of ethnic tribes are raw expressions of the Filipino soul.

Indeed, there were dances for just about everything—birth, courtship, wedding, religion, death—and the coming of colonizers further enriched the choreography of our dances. From Spain came the jota, pandanggo and habanera while the French contributed the rigodon and the minuete (minuet). In Ilocos, a dance called Ba-Ingles was obviously adapted from Americans.

Kapampangans with their nimble feet and love for music and rhythms have also taken to dancing early on. Our few signature dances have not reached the level of national awareness the way the “tinikling”, “singkil” and even the fairly new “itik-itik” have, which had the benefit of being performed by professional troupes the world over----not yet, anyway. But with the recent exposures of our local festivals on television, Pampanga’s dances are becoming hit attractions.

No other Philippine dance is as frenetic as the kuraldal, a dance originally performed in Sasmuan on Dec. 13 to honor its patron, Santa Lucia. They say it’s Pampanga’s counterpart of the Obando fertility dance—in kuraldal, people dance not only for good health, but barren women also ask for babies. But kuraldal is wilder, characterized by swaying and jumping to the beat of kuraldal music. People dance non-stop, and the infectious beat can sometimes have a hypnotic effect on the participants, who enter a trance-like state while dancing for hours. The kuraldal practice has also spilled over to other Pampanga towns like Betis, in which the 24 handpicked participants are expected to teach the dance to their children.

The origin of kuraldal is not really known; it may have originated from tribal dances that eventually melded into Christian rites. Or the Augustinian missionaries may have introduced it as part of their para-liturgical rituals in bringing the faith from inside the church to the outside community.

Another dance performed in Pampanga is “katlu”, which is also known in nearby Bulacan and Nueva Ecija. When hardworking lads came to help the rural lasses pound their palay on the mortar (asung) and pestle (alung), a new dance was born, with couples moving to the beat of pounding rice. “Katlu” was quickly transformed into a courtship dance ritual.

Then there’s the “sapatya”, originally presented by farmers during the harvest season. Characterized by graceful steps and hand movements, it is believed to have been derived from the Spanish, “zapateado”, or shod with shoes. Sapatya has evolved into many versions, and there is one, performed in Bacolor on the Pasig-Potrero river, where ladies, wearing buri hats, dance precariously on a bangka. In Porac, the dancing of sapatya is accompanied by the singing of pulosa, further living up the moment.

Dancing has come a long way since, and through the years, the influence of global pop culture has changed the way we move on the dancefloor. Through the years, we have waltzed, tangoed, boogied, jerked, shimmied, elephant walked, salsa-ed, and spaghetti-ed our way to fun, fitness and frenzy. That is all very good, but once in a while, when your twinkletoes are in the mood to learn something new—try learning something old. Like the kuraldal. Or the sapatya. Or katlu. It’s a step towards perpetuating our rich tradition for the next generation to appreciate. I can’t think of a better move.

Let’s dance to that!

*157. THE LEISURELY LIFE

POOL PARTY. A cool bath in a Magalang swimming resort was everyone's idea of a week-end leisure activity during the peacetime era. Dated 6 November 1938.

For hyperactive youngsters growing up in the 70s, our idea of weekend leisure was simple enough. All we needed was a swimming hole to do our water sports, and Saturdays often found the family driving to Abacan in nearby Balibago, with our picnic baskets and towels to the Del Rosario Swimming Pool for an hour or two of free swimming. Imang Perling and Tatang Dadong, my mother’s elder brother, happened to own and operate the pool located in their residential compound. Later, a more modern resort, Yap Park opened in Dau, but then we had to pay entrance fees, and so we got stuck swimming at good old Del Rosario for quite awhile.

In the 30s, before the rise of man-made resorts and water parks, Kapampangans spent their leisure hours in places with natural scenic sites and resources. Mount Arayat had always been a favorite haunt, a virtual paradise with rich greeneries natural springs with pristine waters channeled into pools for swimming. When it was transformed into a national park, more amenities were added, making it the province’s top tourist destination.

The areas behind Clark, especially the Pinatubo side, had been explored by American military officers early in their stay in Pampanga, so much so that by the mid-1920s, horse and foot trails, streams and swimming holes had already been identified for use by the adventurous Americans and their families. Magalang, by its sheer proximity to Arayat had its share of natural swimming pools and dipping holes.

In Porac, the Dara and Miyamit Falls were frequent destinations of local excursionists. The wide waterfalls had strong, powerful currents that flowed into a deep basin, perfect for swimming. The highlands had meandering trails and lush environs that offered quiet respite from the madding crowd. In Mabalacat, Mascup River, owned by the Tiglaos, was the choice of local bathers, what with its pristine waters, giant sized boulders and rock walls defining the area.

Mount Pinatubo’s eruption have completely altered these natural wonders, resulting in the obliteration of Mascup River. The falls in Porac are no longer what they used to be, and natives claim that the basin is much shallower even if the water still flows vigorously. But even then, the Dara and Miyamit Falls continue to inspire awe and wonder and are very much part pf Porac’s tourist attractions to this day.

If people had extra money for bus fare, then the Sibul Springs in San Miguel, Bulacan was another excellent excursion choice. The springs, which, like those of Arayat emanated from the mountain, were believed to have medicinal and revitalizing values, ideal for the weary weekday worker. There were other scenic spots conveniently located nearby, like the mysterious Madlum Caves and the Madlum River. Sibul Springs was also a top destination of newlyweds and sweethearts, as there was a chapel within the area, a perfect venue for weddings. Pres. Manuel L. Quezon and his family frequented Sibul Springs and so did other important personalities like the Roxases.

Post-war prosperity saw the beginnings of contemporary resorts, and in Angeles, the pebble-paved Paradise Swimming Pool became a favorite get-together place of young students and their friends. By the 1950s, to service the leisure needs of a growing American populace, new subdivisions always included a swimming pool and a clubhouse in their blueprint.

Then, as now, the Kapampangan leisure seeker is easy to please. One day, he is on a bird tour of the famous Candaba swamps, the next he is relaxing in a factory site-turned-leisure park in Calibutbut with a mini-zoo to match. Whether taking a dip at the Pinatubo crater lake or playing golf at Mimosa, the Kapampangan sure knows how to enjoy himself, taking delight and finding his own adventure, regardless if his playground is natural or man-made.

*149. ON THE SAME BOAT: Cruising Pampanga’s Waterworld

ROW, ROW, ROW YOUR BOAT. Candaba's townsfolk negotiate the flooded waters of their town, using a trustworthy bangka, a necessary mode of transport for those living in low-lying Pampanga towns. Ca. 1927.

Kapampangans, being riverbank dwellers, have taken to water like ducks to a pond. The province’s complex network of river highways, its swamplands and river deltas have shaped the way many Kapampangans lived, traveled, devised their leisure and earned their keep. These bodies of water located all over Pampanga have been creating ripples of history since time immemorial. Through a river, Tarik Soliman and his fleet of boats sailed from Macabebe to Bangkusay to meet his heroic death. When the Grand Duke of Russia, Alexis Alexandrovich visited Apalit, he cruised along Pampanga River all the way to the home of his hosts, the Arnedos, whose mansion had a small pier.

Kapampangan traders from Candaba, Apalit, Bacolor and Guagua used the river channels and tributaries to ferry livestock and farm produce to the canals of Manila. Barrios were named according to their proximity to water: Guagua (from ‘wawa', mouth of a river), Macabebe (“bebe”- bordering the river bank), Sapa Libutad, Sapang Bato and Sapang Balen. Fiesta rites revolved around water as in the “libad” (fluvial procession) of Apalit’s Apu Iru.

Taming the waters was a necessity for riverine residents and those living in low-lying areas. Early Kapampangans, especially those from Candaba and the coastal villages of Sasmuan, mastered boatmaking, fashioning bangkas from hardwood trees like molave, tanguili, or guijo. Balacat trees were preferred for their straight posts that were used as masts.

Boat types included the parau (a large passenger or cargo boat), dunai (a simple boat propelled by a bagse or a paddle), casco (a covered cargo raft) and baluto (canoe). Even steamships were not unknown to Kapampangans as they were seen regularly cruising the waters of Guagua, now known as Dalan Bapor.

Directions were reckoned according to the directional flow of rivers. When one says “Pauli na ku”, he actually means he was riding a boat to go downstream. “Lumaut ku”, means one is going out to sea; today it means to go somewhere distant. “Luslus” means to head south by boat, towards Manila Bay, which, today has been modified to mean long distance travel, even by land.

In the late 19th century, passenger boats set sail every Monday, Wednesday and Friday from Guagua to Manila and back. The fare was $2.50, one way. With our modern and time-saving expressways linking whole towns and provinces to key cities like Manila, travel by bangka has fallen from passenger favor in recent times, being demanded when catastrophic floods occur. But for towns like Candaba, Macabebe, Sasmuan, Minalin, Masantol and Bacolor—where cyclical floodings no longer surprise, bangkas continue to be rowed, sailed and paddled, a practice that has become a way of life for the “pampang” people.

*100. A "SAVAGE" ON DISPLAY

PREJUDICE GOES ON A PICNIC. A group of local Kapampangan tourists on an picnic excursion in Porac gather ‘round for a souvenir picture with an Aeta native. Dated 25 May 1929.

In 1904, the St. Louis World’s Fair unfolded in splendor in Missouri, to celebrate the Louisiana Purchase. At the fairgrounds, America exhibited its colonies and its vassals, the Philippines Islands among them. One of the sensations of the imperialistic fair were the “savages” on display—human exhibits of ethnic people—not as individuals, but as nameless stereotypes. The Filipinos represented the biggest group, and as such bore the ogles, stares and the brunt of unflattering comments from the press. Bagobos, Moros, Visayans, Igorots—and yes, Negritos, came to America to lend interest to the Fair, but instead aroused feelings of racism and prejudice.

A newspaper editor, J.W, Buel, wrote specifically of the Negritos: “These aborigines of the islands are among the lowest order of human beings”. Other accounts described them as “savages”, “primitives” and “monkey-like”, who could not count above 5 and had limited speech. Capitalizing on the prevailing prejudices of the time, another paper, The Post Dispatch, reported that Negritos “attracted attention due to their assumed African ancestry”. American anthropologists were quick to predict that the Negritos were doomed to extinction.

At the Negrito Village, 41 Negritos replicated their lives in the Philippines, going around with their bows and arrows, climbing trees, weaving palm baskets , singing and dancing for the crowds. They posed for souvenir pictures—racist photographs, actually, not unlike the photo above, taken in Porac at a company outing, 25 years after the end of the Fair.

The picture came with a few others from someone who had perhaps worked for Dna. Teodora Salgado Ullmann, a rich sugar planter and a businesswoman from San Fernando, Pampanga. A widow, she had remarried a French-German merchant who had settled in the Philippines, Don Benito Ullmann. The picture shows a naked Negrito, stoic and emotionless, poised to shoot with his rattan bow and arrow, standing on a pile of boulders. He is surrounded by smiling male tourists, some in derisive poses. The man on the left seems ready to throw a bag on the poor Negrito’s face. The kneeling man directly in front holds a hat, as if to catch something from the Negrito’s loincloth. Big Boss has a hand on his shoulder. Behind the group are more people, watching with detached amusement.

We can never find out the circumstances behind this photo shoot. Perhaps, the Negrito, strayed from the forests of Porac and stumbled upon these revelers. Was he paid a few centavos to pose for this shot? A small plate of picnic food? Was he a willing participant? Did he swallow his pride, perform a dance, chant a song or climb a tree for the group’s entertainment—just like what his forebears did at the fair?

But one thing is certain. Prejudice is not the domain of Westerners. Filipinos too are capable of cruelty and racism. We call dark-skinned people “baluga”, while children of mixed Filipino-American Africans, we insultingly call “nog-nog”. In contrast, we praise the beauty of Fil-Am whites as a blessing to our race—“gumanda ang lahi”—a better breed, thanks to white genes.

Close to home, we treat Negritos and other people of color and ethnicity differently. When a Negrito sits next to us on a jeepney, we look the other way. We cringe when a Negrito vendor tugs at our sleeves. We look at them as dirty and diseased, avoid them like the plague. We think that as part of a minority group, they rightfully deserve our minor attention. And then we blame them for not being able to integrate with the rest of Philippine society.

After all these years, there has never been a significant in the improvement of our human kindness quotient. Charity doesn’t begin home, but in the heart.

(*NOTE: Feature titles with asterisks represent other writings of the author that appeared in other publications and are not included in the original book, "Views from the Pampang & Other Scenes")