This time, the festival carried the theme “Gimata: Reclaiming People’s Narratives,” which organizers aimed at highlighting the importance of community narratives and promoting a deeper understanding of Bicol’s history and culture, particularly in relation to the May midterm elections. 

“Theater has the power to inspire, to educate, and to challenge our assumptions. It’s a powerful tool for promoting social change, and we’re proud to be part of it,” said Julie DM Vega, the festival director and senior artist of Sining Banwa, one of the 12 participating theater groups.

Pista nin Teatrong Bikolnon featured artists from theater companies based in Naga City, Ateneo de Naga University, and Camarines Sur National High School (all in Camarines Sur), Tabaco National High School, Guinobatan, and the cities of Legazpi and Ligao (all in Albay), Bulan (Sorsogon), Daet (Camarines Norte), Bulacan State University, Cavite City (Cavite), and Alabat Island (Quezon).

Their plays, which focused on environmental, social, and personal issues, were staged on March 27–30 in rural communities throughout Albay, including Joroan, Tiwi, Mabinit, Sogod, Bonga, and Bantayan. 

These included “Tinola” by CNSC Dulayag, a heartwarming exploration of marriage and partnership through the lens of cooking; “Gading Acts 3 and 4” by Dulaang Agaab, a thought-provoking play delving into the story of a miraculous entity; and “Kikay Kit” by Kawa-Kawa Cultural Guild, an introspective one-act play about a middle-aged father’s journey of self-discovery.

Other notable plays were “Posporo” by Marahuyo Production, which tackled the exploitation and commodification of individuals, particularly women; “Siklong Walang Hanggan” by Morms Marcineatro, a visually stunning exploration of humanity’s relationship with nature; and “Da Ipis Kronikels” by Something Creative, a quirky imagining of a world where cockroaches have inherited the earth.

The festival also featured “Gate of Heaven” by Tabsing Kolektib Philippines, a poignant exploration of mortality, morality, and redemption; “Oragon: Sarung Musikal” by Teatro Tabaqueño, a rousing musical celebrating Bicol’s greatest heroes; and “Sinag: Bayanihan” by Art Vox, an uplifting look at social justice, activism, and collective action.

Moreover, there were the haunting “Inara” by Bulsu Entablado, a story of a comfort woman during World War II; the thought-provoking “Yugto ng Santelmo” by Pintakasi, a foray into identity, community, and legend; and the witty “Tao, Bayan, Elektripan” by Sining Banwa Albay Performance Collective, a satire on politics, power, and corruption.

According to Vega, some rural communities have their own narratives that are often misunderstood, making them vulnerable to disinformation and misinformation. 

She said that in the current election campaign, for example, the rural folk are misled into voting for those whose candidacies are pegged only on celebrity and whose supposed advocacies do not align with the communities’ needs. This is not because the rural folk are undiscriminating, but because they may only be familiar with one narrative, she said.

Vega said the festival did not intend to change a community’s narrative but, rather, to offer alternative perspectives. The goal is to provide a platform for diverse stories to emerge and for the community to take ownership of these stories, she said. 

“Let’s discuss and share our current narratives and meet each other halfway,” she added.

The festival organizers deliberately chose the rural areas because the residents seldom have the opportunity to watch theater performances. 

Janela Apon, the Sangguniang Kabataan chair in Barangay Sogod, praised the festival’s activities, particularly the Survive Excel program. “This program provided a platform for the youth to connect with the community’s realities, fostering strong relationships between the youth and community members,” she said, adding:

“It encouraged the youth to step out of their comfort zones, deliver meaningful messages, and inspire others to create positive change.”

Apon cited the theater workshop which, she noted, helped young people develop their potential in theater arts. This, in turn, boosted their confidence to share their talents and interact with diverse people while learning and having fun, she said.

But Apon also acknowledged the challenges in engaging the youth, specifically their active participation. “It’s essential to collaborate with other stakeholders, such as barangay officials, school administrators, and related arts organizations,” she said.

“By meeting with arts teachers within the school community and participating in their classes, more students interested in theater arts can be encouraged to join.” 

To address the inadequate funding for the festival, the organizers earlier launched a “Piso for Pista” campaign on Facebook to seek donations to support the delegates from across Bicol.

The post ‘Pista nin Teatrong Bikolnon’ brings theater (and alternative election perspectives) to rural folk appeared first on CoverStory.

The meeting was held on March 4–7 at the Korean Culture and Information Service in Seoul and at the National Library of Korea in Sejong, KCC Philippines said in a statement. On March 4, Minister Yu In Chon chaired a joint workshop in which the participants shared their experiences in operating KCCs and raising Korea’s cultural standing on the global stage.

KCC Philippines led by its director Kim Myeongjin focused on cooperation to mark the 75th anniversary of bilateral relations between the Philippines and Korea. Its programs last year included an interactive exhibition in collaboration with the National Museum of Korea, a webtoon exhibition with the Korea Creative Content Agency, and a K-drama original soundtrack performance by the Philippine Philharmonic Orchestra.

It also hosted such events as the Korean Film Festival, the Philippines-Korea Culture Exchange Festival, programs on Korean beauty practices, and the Korea Festival, which promoted Korean culture in Manila and Cebu in partnership with the National Commission for Culture and the Arts, the Cultural Center of the Philippines, and the Film Development Council of the Philippines.

Minister Yu took the occasion to call for the continued promotion of Hallyu, or the Korean Wave. “Please actively promote Korean culture on the occasion of the Asia-Pacific Economic Cooperation summit slated in Gyeongju, Gyeongsangbuk-do Province, from October to November,” he said. “We will support KCCs to faithfully play their roles as hubs connecting the world with Hallyu.”

Read more: Popularity of K-Pop and K-Food surging worldwide, says report

The post KCC Philippines named ‘2025 Most Outstanding Korean Cultural Center’ appeared first on CoverStory.

“Pangalay” (also known as “igal” and “pamansak”) is a living heritage that originates from the indigenous peoples of southern Philippines, namely the Sama, Badjao, Jama Mapun, Tausug, and Yakan.

The show, to be held in cooperation with FEU on Oct. 28, starting at 4 p.m., is a rare occasion to witness how the unique and versatile dance form is utilized to choreograph the compositions of National Artists and other iconic musicians, aside from the traditional kulintangan ensemble.

The AlunAlun Dance Circle (ADC) is a nonprofit dance organization dedicated to upholding cultural appreciation of the indigenous people of the southern Philippines through preserving, conserving, and propagating the pangalay.

Careful innovation in the stage presentations of their dance traditions like pangalay and “langka” (martial art dances) are incorporated through the Asian tradition of wearing masks in creating choreography. 

Traditionally, the choreography is integrated into contemporary themes, utilizing pop music and various compositions for the public to appreciate the dance traditions, especially for the new generation.

Ligaya Fernando-Amilbangsa, who founded the ADC, is also the artistic director and master choreographer for the group. Gorn and raised in Marikina in 1943 when it was then a municipality of Rizal province, she graduated with a Bachelor of Arts degree from FEU in 1962. 

Fernando-Amilbangsa is a recipient of FEU’s Most Outstanding Alumna in 2007, the Most Outstanding Artist of Tawi Tawi Award of 2011, and the 2015 Ramon Magsaysay Awardee for safeguarding pangalay as a precious component of Filipino heritage and a living link to other Asian dance cultures. 

In 2019, the Intellectual Property Office of the Philippines gave her the Gawad Yamang Isip award.

Through the decades since 1969, Fernando-Amilbangsa committed her life to patiently documenting the Sulu Archipelago’s dances and their allied expressions, teaching dance with a method she developed, and choreographing performances. 

In 1983, her 13-year research book titled “Pangalay: Traditional Dance and Related Folk Artist Expressions” was adjudged the best art book by the Manila Critics Circle.

Don’t miss out on the opportunity to experience and appreciate this significant component of Philippine heritage as presented by a highly respected cultural icon in the FEU Auditorium, 

The FEU Auditorium, which is celebrating its 75th anniversary this year, is recognized for its cultural and architectural significance, notably its Art Deco design and historical importance. The theater was designed by National Artist for Architecture Pablo Antonio and was the premier cultural center of the Philippines in the 1950s. 

The cultural event is free. Register at https://forms.office.com/r/hkWfHPgRSR

The post ‘Pangalay at Maskara’ returns to historic FEU theater appeared first on CoverStory.

We’ve just celebrated our 126th Independence Day a few days back and, likely so, the euphoric spirit of patriotism and national identity lingers still to the fore.

For my part, I cared badgering myself once again with the thought: What does it take being ‘Filipino’?

My youngest son, my junior or namesake, who’s currently teaching and finishing his doctoral studies in the Netherlands, posed a similar query when he wrote in his FB post: “I grew up being taught that lack of punctuality is Filipino time, procrastination habit is Filipino habit, bahala na or fatalism is Filipino attitude, padrino system or favoritism is Filipino system, etc., and that we are to avoid these negative traits of being a Filipino. But who presumed that this is what it means to be Filipino? Why can’t it just be a lesson on getting rid of these awful traits because being a Filipino is being none of these?”

Hmmm, ‘tis undoubtedly a good point. But who’s the culprit indeed behind such linguistic degradation (read: hegemonic labeling) about “Filipino un-becoming”?

My son continued: “The colonial era played a big role in this linguistic scandal. Besides, the rhetoric of cultural degradation facilitates colonization. The Spaniards’ notion of Filipinos can be summed up in Gaspar de San Agustin’s letter in 1720 with the words: “‘The wretched beings (Filipinos) are of such a nature that they live a purely animal life, intent solely on its preservation and convenience, without the corrective of reason or respect or esteem for reputation.’ And over a period of time, like kids generally demeaned by their parents, Filipinos grew to dislike themselves unconfident and haunted by this glaring self-image.”

Inhuman labels

My son further ventured to postulate that because of such hegemony of inhuman labeling (or “cultural gaslighting,” in modern lingo), Filipinos thus have the impulse to practice the inhumanity embodied in such traits. “Inhuman labels to others allow the self to practice inhumanity. And if the word ‘Filipino’ really has a bad taste to Filipinos themselves, no wonder it is easy for them to escalate simple neighborly confrontation into murder, to allege crime against fellow Filipinos for the sake of ‘quota,’ to steal public funds, or not to work for the best interest of the state. Horrible actions are sometimes desensitized by seeing the other as ‘parasite,’ ‘lazy,’ ‘morally unreliable,’ ‘stupid’ etc.”

Whew! My stomach cringes in agreement with the hard truth propounded by my son.

Inarguably, indeed, language is linked with issues of power and politics. It was English novelist and journalist, Angela Carter, who rightly said, “Language is power, life and the instrument of culture, the instrument of domination and liberation.”

In the same vein, the Italian thinker and political activist Antonio Gramsci suggested an interesting link between hegemony and language. In his seminal work “The Prison Notebooks”, Gramsci refers to civil and political society that make use of discursive and coercive approaches for purposes of hegemony. The impact of these approaches is so effective and subtle that the controlled populace welcome this control by consent. Similarly, thus, according to African novelist Ngugi wa Thiong’o, the “cultural bomb annihilates a people’s belief in their names, in their languages, in their unity, in their capacities and ultimately in themselves.”

Ahh, amid this wrestling conundrum of “what it means to be a Filipino”, I can only share a common aspiration with my son that indeed it’s high time for us to “organically disassociate our Filipino identity from such hegemonic linguistic-cultural labeling.”

For one, on a final note, I find relief in the words of Paolo Freire: “Man, who is an incomplete being, and yet conscious of his incompletion, has the inherent potential for completion.”

Read more: A new path for Southeast Asian civil society engagement with Asean

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Consider this perhaps an extension of Mayflower festivities prevalent in the month of May. No matter, however; even though it’s already June, others may argue this is timeless.

Rain or shine, from January to December, it’s Santacruzan time.

Of course, it is relevant to hold an event that pays homage to a certain point of the cycle in real time. But this is the digital age and we can create any occasion, even in AI fashion, anytime we want to.

No alibis, no excuses.

Santacruzan is a staple, way of life or production. Just look at the many fashion shows mounted in hotels, halls, trade centers, entertainment areas of malls, reception floors of buildings or houses—antique or newly built, sound stages, vast fields, public places, plazas and wherever possible.

Because of its colorful ambience, the event as tribute to Queen Helena (Reyna Elena in colonial Filipino arts and culture) of Constantinople as she discovered the True or Holy Cross with her son Constantine has been a perfect vehicle to showcase the latest collection of gowns of designers. New sartorial creations can best convey the features of a Reyna Emperatriz or any characters from the Bible or their representations in Salvation History.

Reyna Elenas galore

When fashion designer Goullee Gorospe was still alive, he would produce a Maytime fest in October or December. The show would include a Santacruzan with matching models of all shapes and sizes (young and old, pro and upstart, society matrons and nouveau riche businesswomen, and the like) portraying maidens in the procession onstage—makeshift or built-in—of Teatrino, Dusit Hotel or Manila Polo Club.

Goullee would even hold contests of the best Reyna Elena of the runway, even designating and proclaiming as many Reyna Elenas as possible as winning Reyna Elena I, II, III ad nauseum just to please everyone.

In beauty contests held anytime of the year—in the barangay, city and municipal, provincial, regional or national—the concept of Santacruzan in national costumes or production numbers is workable and vibrant.

Not to be outdone are gay beauty contests or male beauty competitions where female aspirants can don frocks for Santacruzan beauties whose escorts are usually good looking or movie star material in traditional or fusion wear of old and new Filipiniana, mostly barong tagalog.

Male pretenders to the throne of a Mr. Philippines or any other titles can echo, portray and display the grown up Constantine look in Westernized suits or indigenized garbs to adapt a Filipino sense of fashion.

In this year’s Mayohan (Tagalog adaptation of practicing artistic and cultural activities and influences in May like fiestas), the Santacruzan corteges were a series of religious processions in different parts of the country—far and near, rural or urban—participated in by Catholics or even Born Again Christians, who couldn’t resist to field their young daughters to play maidens or some Reyna Elenas.

Santacruzan is indeed a spectacle, but to attract more spectators (commercially, gathering advertisers and sponsors or annual pledges and spiritual vows of organizers), movie, television, and theater stars or even social media sensations are invited to play mainly the Reyna Elenas or Reyna Emperatrizes.

Take the case of the mother-daughter team of Zsa Zsa Padilla and Karylle who looked momentarily splendid as Reyna Elenas, while award-winning actress Max Eigenmann portrayed Reyna Emperatriz in an event organized by the Caampued family in Barangay Olimpia in Makati City. Max donned a Maria Clara-inspired Filipiniana cut exclusively designed for her by fashion czar haute couture Albert Figueras.

Sagalahan

In my bucolic town of Lopez, Quezon, there was a distinct way of holding a Santacruzan called Sagalahan (from “sagala” or maiden in a religious procession)—without the typical Reyna Elena or Emperatriz. 

The parade was participated in by diverse biblical figures like Reyna ng Tuwa (Joyous Queen), Reyna ng Luwalhati (Glorious Queen) etc. or the maidens who epitomized the five mysteries of the Holy Rosary (Lopez’s patron saint and parish church being the Most Holy Rosary), Banderada, Reyna de los Angeles, Reyna de las Estrellas etc. They were topped by the Reyna de la Flores (Queen of Flowers) to represent the Blessed Virgin Mary, Queen of Flowers.

Literature wasn’t strange in the Sagalahan after all as most of these sagalas recited a poetry called “lua/luwa” to venerate the Holy Lady. Lua/Luwa originated from Iloilo but has been practiced in Lopez after the Pacific War, according to Lily Villasanta Arriero, an interpreter or a declaimer during one Sagalahan.

To make the lua/luwa transported to other cultures and spaces embodied by local actress Angel Evangelista as Reyna de las Estrellas, we brought it to Dry Brush Gallery at SM North Edsa’s Interior Zone to transition the merriment of May to the scorching heat of June and perhaps go on presenting Mayohan to blend with other seasons all-year round.

The post The Santacruzan as a year-round spectacle appeared first on CoverStory.

Unbelievable? Not if you know the identity of the writer-job seeker: Leonardo da Vinci, creator of the world’s best-known work of art, the Mona Lisa, and designer of the armor tank and various weapons of war. He was also a sculptor, architect, engineer, scientist, anatomist, inventor—considered the greatest genius in history.

Originally written in Italian, the letter is addressed to “my most illustrious lord,” the Duke of Milan, who eventually employed Da Vinci as painter and engineer. That was in 1482, when Da Vinci was 30 and with experience in painting, sculpture, and technical-mechanical arts, gained from apprenticeships under two renowned artists in his native Florence.  

Today, five centuries later, the polymath continues to astound the world.      

The full spectrum of his genius is on show at the ongoing exhibition titled Leonardo da Vinci—500 Years of Genius. Images of his artworks, original drawings, writings, and machine designs are projected in high definition and colossal scale across a 3,000-square-meter, four-story space. The venue is The LUME, the world’s largest digital art gallery, located in this city known as Australia’s arts and culture capital. 

Man of many roles

Da Vinci’s résumé letter is one of the fascinating artifacts on exhibit. Information plaques, exhibition notes, including his famous quotes, are as riveting as the artworks.  

Designed to be an interactive “immersive and multisensory” experience, the exhibition harnesses AI and VR technology to recreate his life and times. It is presented by the WeBuild global construction group and Grande Experiences, the team behind the Van Gogh Alive and Monet and Friends exhibitions.

Entering the gallery, visitors are introduced to the master through a series of panels with pictures representative of his work in his various roles as artist, inventor, engineer, scientist, anatomist. Also in the room are models of some of his inventions, the vertical flying machine, the aerial screw and the open glider hanging above the panels.  

In the cavernous main hall, a picture show of the Mona Lisa, The Last Supper and his other paintings is interspersed with scenery from the places where he lived, worked, and died (Florence, Milan, Venice, and Amboise in France) during the 15^th and 16^th centuries. 

Likewise in the show are works of his contemporaries Michaelangelo (The Creation of Adam, the Sistine Chapel ceiling) and Raphael (The Sistine Madonna) and two portraits of Da Vinci by Melbourne artist Jim Manton. 

Dwarfed in their surroundings, visitors behold the sweeping views while seated on a two-deck circular bench at the center or reclining on bean bags along the sides, while soaking in the music and opera songs of Puccini, Verdi, Vivaldi, et al. Or they can imagine being in the scenery, enjoying a cappuccino in a corner of the gallery transformed into the Renaissance-styled Caffé Medici.

Flying over Florence 

Teasing the imagination further, the exhibition lets visitors share Da Vinci’s lifelong dream to fly via the Florence Flyover virtual reality experience. 

You mount a contraption in prone position with arms spread, and get fitted with a VR headset. You flap your arms to stay airborne, with the sound of the wind keeping pace as you glide across the Florence skyscape dominated by the cathedral dome.

In another ingenious area, you spread your arms as well, this time while standing on a designated spot in front of a huge screen that scans your body, just like in airports. The Vitruvian Man Interactive is a techno interpretation of Da Vinci’s drawing of a male figure in two superimposed positions in a circle and a square.

Inspired by the architect Vitruvius’ measurement theories, the drawing depicts Da Vinci’s own principles of proportions of the human form.  

This writer’s scan results read: height 1.56m, arm span 1.55m, arm .25m, forearm .21m, thigh .36m, shin .35m—for a score of 99.35% perfect proportions.

Beyond proportion, Da Vinci wanted to understand how the body worked, spending years studying the human anatomy by dissecting corpses in a hospital basement. He recorded his observations, with accompanying intricate drawings of bones, muscles, veins, arteries, nerves, even a fetus in the womb of its mother. 

The ambidextrous Da Vinci wrote with a kind of shorthand he invented. He also practiced mirror writing, starting from the right hand of the page to the left. One theory is that it was a way of coding his ideas; another is that he did not want to smudge the paper with ink if he wrote in the usual direction with his left hand.

Secrets 

Around the main hall are several sections featuring specific aspects of Da Vinci’s work. One is where his résumé letter is displayed under the heading “Résumé of a Genius.” He starts the letter by establishing his “purpose of unfolding to you my secrets” and “offering them at your complete disposal.” He then proceeds to present his skills, numbered 1 to 10, with an additional paragraph on his artistic talents. 

More “secrets” are revealed in another section dedicated to the Mona Lisa and the research conducted by French optical engineer Pascal Cotte, a consultant to The Louvre.    

For generations, questions and theories have hounded the world’s most famous painting, from its setting to the identity of the model (Lisa Gherardini, wife of the merchant Francesco Giocondo of Florence). Perhaps the most widely discussed are her facial features, her missing eyebrows and eyelashes, and her smile.  

The “25 Secrets Revealed” panel tells how Cotte got to the bottom of things. He scanned the painting with the 240-megapixel multispectral camera he invented, and for a decade “peeled back layers” of the painting, examining it in exhaustive detail. 

The results of his research “shatter many myths and alter our vision of Leonardo’s masterpiece.” His work revealed, among other things, that the original color of the painting was lighter and brighter, not predominantly gloomy brown and green as it appears. The sky in the background, for instance, is light blue.

The Mona Lisa was painted between 1503 and 1519. In the original, the model’s smile is more expressive, but “probable restoration to cracks on the eyes and lips changed the facial expression.” 

On the missing eyebrows and eyelashes, Cotte theorized that “the fine paint used for the eyebrows and eyelashes—earth mixed with oil—blended with the undercoat and over time became transparent.” 

Cotte’s research debunked the theory that the model suffered from high cholesterol. An Italian academic was reported to have detected signs of fatty acid build-up caused by too much cholesterol under the skin, particularly in the right eye. 

However, Cotte explains that “the blotched mark on the corner of the right eye as well as one discovered on the corner of the chin, is revealed to be a varnish accident.”  Other “revelations” include lace on the dress and a veil, which was painted over the landscape.

‘Patrimony of humankind’

For the first time in Australia, original pages from Da Vinci’s Codex Atlanticus notebooks are on display at The LUME. It is the largest collection of manuscripts and drawings, which is preserved at the Biblioteca Ambrosiana in Milan. 

“It gathers all the knowledge in Da Vinci’s mind,” said Monsignor Alberto Rocca, Biblioteca director, in a TV news interview. While it is in the library’s safekeeping, he said “it is patrimony of humankind.”  

The “ancient sheets,” however, can only be on display for three months at a time, after which they will be returned to Milan where they will be kept in a dark room for three years for conservation.

The writings are on geometry and algebra, physics and natural sciences, architecture and applied arts, tools and machines, and human sciences. 

Rocca said the notebooks reveal amazing insights and ideas that were way ahead of Da Vinci’s time, but because there was no technology then, he was not able to turn all his ideas into actual objects. 

Machines and more

Among these are Da Vinci’s designs of flying machines and weapons of war. But where he failed, artisans at the Museo Leonardo da Vinci in Rome took over, crafting 40 machine inventions from his sketches. These are on loan to the exhibition, including the flying machines in the first section of the gallery.

The entire array is laid out on the mezzanine of the main gallery hall. 

Among the machines are an armor tank, self-propelled car, paddle boat, giant crossbow, emergency bridge, covered cart for attacking fortifications, multidirectional gun-machine, mowing wagon, diving and breathing equipment, lifebuoy, and skis. 

Visitors, including children, are welcome to touch the machines, turn a cog-wheel, or peep into the tank. You can even enter the eight-sided mirror chamber Da Vinci designed to be able to view an object from different sides.

Just when it dawns on you that there is probably only one thing that this man could not do or had no interest in, you discover his little-known accomplishments in yet other art forms. Displayed in a glass case among the machines is an item shaped like a slingshot—his model of the double flute. 

Da Vinci played the flute and lyre, and would listen to music while painting. He had a good voice, and would sing at social gatherings. Among his manuscripts are musical compositions. 

Farther into the section are two mannequins dressed in what look like costumes from Da Vinci’s time. Indeed, they are costumes—designed by Da Vinci for theater. It turns out that he also designed stage sets.

It has been 500 years, and still there is more to learn about the genius. Perhaps more secrets to uncover, too?

Angelina G. Goloy is a former journalist and PR consultant in the Philippines, and frequent Melbourne visitor. The exhibition was a treat from her perennial host, former Manila-based foreign correspondent Emilia Tagaza Bevege.

The post Leonardo da Vinci in overwhelming view appeared first on CoverStory.

Helena was Petty’s Tita (aunt)—a niece of her father, Tomas Benitez—whom she knew to be a shopper and collector. MiraNila is replete with 4, 500 books and more than 2, 000 pieces of original furniture and paintings collected by Helena’s parents, Conrado and Francisca Benitez—respectively an educator and constitutionalist, and a suffragette and cofounder of PWU, the first university for women in Asia established by Asians.

Helena expanded her parents’ collection, adding her Murano glass, Chinese ceramics, Wedgwood, and celadon that she bought during her travels.

This recent afternoon we’re at MiraNila’s dining room after visiting the living room and library. Among the Chinese ceramics in one of the display cases is a stray palayok (pot) that Petty says is the oldest in the collection—think Tabon-cave old—which was gifted to Helena by archaeologist Robert Fox. Tellingly, the room holds other treasures, namely the Lalique chandelier and two Sheraton-style altar tables appraised by Leon Gallery as “the most valuable [objects] in the room because of [their] good condition.”

A tour of the heritage house is part of the press conference organized by the Alice Reyes Dance Philippines (ARDP) to announce its performance of “Carmina Burana” on June 14 and 15 in the Samsung Performing Arts Theater at Circuit Makati.

How are MiraNila, choreographer Alice Reyes, and her ballet piece “Carmina Burana” connected? It may appear tenuous at first glance, but MiraNila’s history throws light on the strong, nostalgic link binding the three.

No demolition

It was foresight on Helena’s part when she established the Benitez-Tirona MiraNila Foundation. She saved her own house from demolition, which seems to be the default modus operandi of the government vis-à-vis heritage buildings. The foundation also gave access to scholars, tourists, the curious, and those simply wanting to bask in the ambience of serenity and history of a Commonwealth-era home.

Together with MiraNila’s loyal household staff and experts, Petty and kin have kept their aunt’s house in order. In an interview with Inquirer.net in 2019, Petty said she and her sister Bebet (McClelland) “culled down the contents of the house to about 2,000 objects” from July to December 2018.

Per Inquirer.net, the heritage buildings that were unable to dodge the wrecking ball include the Avenue Theater by Juan F. Nakpil, the Mandarin Oriental hotel by Leandro V. Locsin, and the Jai- Alai building. The 104-year-old Sta. Mesa Fire House on Magsaysay Boulevard is next on the chopping block, but its demolition has been suspended. The National Historical Commission of the Philippines (NHCP) is looking into whether the Manila government acquired the proper permits despite the building being more than 50 years old.

Under Republic Act No. 10066, or the National Cultural Heritage Act of 2009, structures dating at least 50 years old should be conserved and protected from any modification or demolition.

MiraNila is demolition-proof, having been declared a heritage house on April 7, 2011, by the NHCP. However, Petty explains, any changes to the property cannot exceed 30% except for the garden, which is not covered by the citation.

Back stories

The main house is a stone’s throw from the chapel, which was constructed in 2006 and emerges at the end of the path from the main gate. Religious or not, one is drawn to the stained-glass depiction of the Holy Family made by the German manufacturer of art glass, Robert Kraut.

Walking towards the house, Petty points to a himbabao tree and tells us that Ferdinand Marcos Sr. was “happy to see it in Manila.” It’s one of two on the property. Cuisine-wise, himbabao is an ingredient in the Ilocano dish dinengdeng, Historically, the tree was where Conrado Benitez and Dr. Y.C James Yen of Taiwan discussed establishing the Philippine Rural Reconstruction Movement (PRRM), the first nongovernment organization in the country, at the height of the Hukbalahap movement in 1952.

“PRRM aimed to develop self-reliance and self-government at the barrio level, explains Petty. “Its original board members included Conrado Benitez, Gil Puyat, Salvador Araneta, then secretary of commerce, Paul R. Parrette of Philippine Manufacturing Corp. and Albino Z. SyCip of China Bank Corp, and, later on, Horacio ‘Boy’ Morales and the ‘doctor to the barrios’ Juan Flavier. Helena was its board chair until her demise.”

Petty urges us to go up the tower before heading to the press conference. Keeping one’s hands free is prudent so one can grasp both handrails of the three flights of stairs from the second floor. For the steep climb, one is rewarded with a vista of the sprawling garden, a cool breeze, and a furnished tower room that’s a good nook to read in or to hide from the world.

“To keep the house alive,” as Petty puts it, MiraNila partnered with The Blue Leaf, which operates The Gallery MiraNila that does events catering, and the boutique luxury accommodation The Henry MiraNila Suites. Patisserie Bizu has also opened Bizu MiraNila Café on the premises.

Art Deco house

MiraNila was built in 1929 by Cornelio Pineda, master foreman of Pedro Siochi & Co that also worked on the Manila Metropolitan Theater, Rizal Memorial Sports Coliseum, and Manila Post Office. Gregorio Melchor Paredes, painter-sculptor and Francisca Benitez’s cousin, was the architect-consultant who oversaw the house’s sculpture and design of architectural details.

The bucolic hilltop of San Juan overlooking Manila was MiraNila’s original location. It got its name, as the story goes, when someone from the tower exclaimed, “Mirar Manila!” (Look, Manila!) while viewing the city’s landscape. Eventually, the Spanish phrase was whittled down to MiraNila, and it became the name of Conrado Benitez’s house.

“MiraNila is an Art Deco house because of the transoms, but it’s a conservative house,” says Petty.

Its library specializes in reading materials from the Commonwealth era up to the end of martial law and books on culture and the arts. Archival books are on the first floor; the main stack and request area are in the reading room on the second. On the first floor of the library are paintings of the three constitutionalists—Higinio Benitez (1898 Malolos Congress), his son Conrado (one of the “seven wise men” of the 1935 Congress), and Conrado’s son, Tomas (1971 Congress)—and photographs, such as Conrado’s group picture with his teammates and coach Oscar Knudson circa 1906-1911. Conrado was captain of the University of Chicago’s water polo team, a considerable feat for a comparatively diminutive athlete back then.

The furniture in the library is likewise historic, having been “made by the prisoners of Old Bilibid prison on Oroquieta Street,” according to Petty.

She adds: “José Abad Santos, [a former chief justice of the Philippines] and Conrado’s best friend, encouraged prisoners to do craft work. He also had the women prisoners in Old Bilibid transferred to Mandaluyong.”

At home in MiraNila 

Petty makes it known at the press conference held in the pavilion that Alice Reyes is no stranger to MiraNila: “Alice has had a long history with MiraNila. She was a pioneer dancer of the Bayaniban troupe [and] danced the tinikling with her father when she was 16.”

My imagination goes into overdrive: The teenager Alice is running up the winding staircase to see Helena—Tita Helen to her—and, coming down, stops midway at the oil portrait of Francisca by Eli Gajo.

She’s relaxing underneath the himbabao tree in the side garden. Did she know the story of MiraNila’s gardener being a Japanese sleeper agent in the Benitez household?

“After the RCA Tower was bombed, the gardener told Francisca to move out because they were going to take over the house,” narrates Petty. “Francisca refused and moved into the garage. The Japanese planted 16 mines around the house [which] didn’t go off. The US infantry decommissioned them. But the house of Abad Santos was blown up.”

Petty says that the Abad Santos house was rebuilt in the 1950s and that the entire family lives in the five-hectare property near MiraNila today.

I imagine Alice in Helena’s bedroom on the second floor looking at Helena’s pastel-on-graphite-paper portrait by Anita Cruz Magsaysay (later Magsaysay-Ho) before gazing out the window.

“Anita and Helena were high school classmates at PWU. The portrait has been in Helena’s bedroom since the time she received it,” says Petty.

Did Alice look at the Abad Santos house back then, which was visible from the second floor? Did she know that the Benitez family named my old high school, Jose Abad Santos Memorial School (aka JASMS), in honor of him? A picture of Abad Santos circa 1930s is displayed at the Quezon Corner outside the master bedroom that, Petty says, “Fernando Amorsolo used,” or “a copy of it as a guide for his portrait of Abad Santos [displayed] at PWU.”

Homecoming

By no stretch of the imagination can Alice Reyes not be into dancing. It’s in her blood. Her parents. according to my research, were a musician and an artist, and her aunt founded a dance company. Although Helena is gone, Alice is back at MiraNila, reintroducing one of her major ballet pieces, “Carmina Burana.”

“This is a sort of a homecoming,” Alice says at the press conference. “MiraNila was magical. I used to come visit Tita Helen. It’s nice to see that the staff is taking care of the house.”

“Carmina Burana” is ARDP’s second show for the season after “Rama Hari. It’s set to the cantata of German composer Carl Orff with the same name that’s based on a compilation of poems by the Goliards called Codex Burana. The poems, written from the 11th to the 13th century, touched on worldly pleasures, i.e., drinking, gambling, lust, and love-making, says performingarts.nd.edu.

The ballet is about a community experiencing the joys of life, drinking, and love through the exuberant, erotic, and pagan movements of the dancers. The show will also feature the Philippine Philharmonic Orchestra, the Philippine Madrigal Singers, and soloist Lara Maigue.

Forming the program’s first part before the main ballet are “Dugso” (The Offering); “Summer’s End,” and “After Whom.” “Dugso” is “a remounting not done in ages,” Alice says of her collaborative piece with National Artist for Music Ramon Santos that premiered in 1972, and that drew inspiration from a dance with the same name performed by the tribes of Bukidnon in Mindanao.

“Summer’s End” is a piece by Alice’s friend Norman Walker that premiered in 1980. ARDP president Tats Manahan describes it as a sweet, whimsical pas de deux about a couple who fall in love in the summer.

Augustus “Bam” Damian III’s 2005 piece “After Whom” is, quips Manahan, “a strong, energetic piece.”

Adds Alice: “Everyone’s on pointe shoes, women wear shorts, and men wear skirts.”

Preservation mode

Petty and Alice are clearly on the side of art preservation as against demolition and oblivion. MiraNila has been thriving under Petty’s administration, and she’s steadily looking at how to get the heritage house firmly onto the people’s radar. For now, there are the MiraNila guided tours—available by appointment—and a concert scheduled in November at the music alcove underneath the winding staircase.

“It’ll be a small event because the first floor can only hold a number of people. The Steinway piano is under restoration at the moment,” says Petty.

On Alice’s part, her company has been staging classic ballet pieces that serve two purposes. The first is to showcase her dancers who, in her assessment, are “well-rounded and can tackle everything and anything.”

“We’re a company that has repertoire [and] the ability to stage Filipino classics,” she declares.

Regarding the second purpose, Alice hopes that staging the classics will catch the attention of the government enough for it to invest in ARDP and other companies, to help preserve those very classics. Her perennial bugbear, as she points out, is that when a performance is done, it’s done.

“No one can [restage] Agnes Locsin’s ‘Engkantada’ or Bam’s ‘After Whom!'” she exclaims.

Comparatively, preserving ballet performances isn’t a problem in America and Europe—”they’re better at it,” Alice says, so much so that young Russian dancers, for example, can watch old ballet productions.

That heritage buildings and works of Filipino choreographers are constantly teetering on the line between survival and permanent cessation is a misfortune. Old buildings and classic dances are historical testimonies to a country’s past lives and achievements that serve as guides for future generations to map out their course. To banish them into oblivion leaves everyone, particularly the youth, who are already bereft of history lessons in school, truly bereft. 

Fortunately, Petty Benitez-Johannot and Alice Reyes are maintaining the balance between preservation and development by keeping the past abreast with the times: MiraNila serves as a lesson in Philippine history, and “Carmina Burana” provides a glimpse of timeless Filipino grace, versatility and creativity.

*******************

For tickets to “Carmina Burana, call TicketWorld (0917 550 699710999 954 5922), CCP Box Office (tel. 8832 3704), and ARDP (Viber: 0967 153 6173 | e-mail: [email protected]).

To tour MiraNila, contact Delia Pineda at tel. 8722 0243 | 0945 487 6827 or e-mail: [email protected].

Read more: ‘Namit!’ highlights the tastes and aromas of Iloilo food

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We were approaching the Red Center of the Northern Territory, a vast region of outback desert plains, rare species of flora and native wildlife, and ancient Aboriginal culture. It is referred to as the heart of Australia, where the earth is indeed red, owing to oxidized iron, or rust.   

Three hours away from Sydney, we had also traveled back in time.  The region dates back 550 million years, or 250 million years older than the dinosaurs. Geoscience attributes its topography to all those years of erosion and redistribution of soil, rocks, mud, and other sediments from high areas and sunken surfaces.

Uluru is a remnant of eroded sediments that were buried and compacted. So is Kata Tjuta (pronounced ka-tah chuta), the nearby cluster of 36 domes. The former is a sandstone rock, the latter a conglomerate of mostly granite and basalt rocks. 

The local Anangu Aboriginal people believe that the landscape was formed by the movements of ancestral beings across the land in the beginning of time. As their descendants, they are responsible for its protection. 

Sacred land

The place is sacred to the Anangu. It has been their home for 60,000 years. As archaeological evidence attests, theirs is the world’s oldest continuous living culture. To them, Uluru and the surrounding land are alive with the marks of creation and the knowledge passed on through generations.    

As we drove to the Uluru-Kata Tjuta National Park the next day, Uluru, looming in the distance, struck me as deceptively still. In a split-second, I imagined the rock heave, as though to breathe. The desert stretching as far as the eye could see—nowhere to run, nowhere to hide—tempered my excitement.  

Giselle’s presence kept the anxiety at bay. Having visited the Red Center twice before, she drew on previous guided tours in working out a short but informative excursion for me. 

First things first. No, we didn’t camp out in the desert (although it is an option for adventurous visitors). From the modest airport, we were shuttled to our accommodation 10 minutes away at Ayers Rock Resort in Yulara, an isolated and relatively new town (pop.: about 1,000).  

The resort is an Aboriginal-owned complex with five hotels, cafes, restaurants, a supermarket, an amphitheater, art galleries, shops, clinic, a tourist information station, and gardens, all a stroll from one another around a town square. 

It carries Uluru’s non-Aboriginal name (given by a European explorer in the 1800s), but it is clearly Aboriginal country. Aboriginal artistry is on full display not only in the art galleries but also in facilities and amenities. Iconic dots, concentric circles, and swirl patterns in strong earth tones are featured in signage, murals, carpets, upholstery, and beddings. 

“Palya,” the traditional Anangu greeting, is spelled out in larger-than-life wooden blocks atop a flight of steps facing the highway. Inscribed on the “P” is the multiple meaning of the word: hello, goodbye, thank you, welcome.   

In our room, the Anangu welcome video from the Indigenous TV station provided interesting information. Outside, the town square pulsated with the rhythm of piped-in music played on the didgeridoo, the Aboriginal wind instrument.   

On the side of a shop, I passed an Aboriginal woman peddling artworks on the pavement. Sensing that I might take a snapshot, she motioned to say no, then pointed to one of the smaller pieces, saying “forty dollars” (about P1,500).  

Two other women had more pieces spread out on the lawn. Nearby, tourists seated on stone benches were listening to a talk about the Anangu way of life. Other activities in the gardens were guided walks and dot painting workshops.  

The Lost Camel

A stone’s throw from the gardens is the Kulata Academy Café where, Giselle mentioned, food and hospitality students at the National Indigenous Training Academy made up the staff. Nearly half of resort employees are Indigenous; the rest are from all over the world. They live within the resort. (A woman behind the counter in a shop caught our attention. She was chatting animatedly on the phone, in Tagalog.)  

The hotels have names that denote location–Sails in the Desert, Outback, Emu Walk, Desert Gardens. Ours was The Lost Camel. Although drawn from an Indian folktale, it is a reference to the resort’s camel farm, which offers camel rides.    

(Camels were brought in by British explorers in the mid-1800s for transportation in the desert. There are now more feral camels in Australia than in Egypt, I am told.)

The Uluru-Kata Tjuta National Park is outside Yulara, a 20-minute drive from the resort. It is a dual World Heritage park managed by the government in collaboration with the Anangu, who own the land.  

Besides appropriate shoes, visitors are advised to bring a hat or beanie, light jacket or scarf, depending on the time of year, and, most important, a fly net. The flies in the Red Center are smaller, paler, and flimsier than the houseflies back home, but they can be annoying. They swarm your back and your face, and if you’re exposed, you could swallow or inhale them! 

‘Many heads’

Our first stop was Kata Tjuta, which means “many heads.” Covering 20 kilometers, the 36 domes are also called The Olgas, after Mount Olga, the highest at 546 meters. 

Viewing the domes from the car, I remembered Bohol’s Chocolate Hills and the unnerving, surreal feeling they set off. The Olgas were more awesome than alarming up close, as we navigated the first of two walks, Valley of the Winds. 

The welcome sign at the starting point comes with polite reminders to “walk quietly, tread lightly” as a sign of respect for the sacred place. The park’s website gives practical advice: “Be reasonably fit…be careful,” the path being “steep, rocky, and difficult in places.”

Minding my step while gazing at the panorama was initially manageable, with my feet secure on level ground or cobblestone paths. A walk in the park, I thought, as I exchanged greetings with other hikers, including seniors like me and families with children.   

Half an hour into it, however, the path did indeed become steep and rocky. As though upping the difficulty level, swooshing and whistling winds constantly threatened to blow me away, literally. I stopped looking up at the domes and focused on my feet instead. 

Upon reaching the first lookout, Giselle and I agreed we would not proceed to the second one. The directional sign alone was intimidating: “steep track on rough terrain with loose rocks.” 

Between two domes

We drove instead to the other end of the dome cluster four minutes away to do the Walpa Gorge Walk. This is a moderate-grade walk along generally level path, with a gentle swell midway then a downward slope at the penultimate section approaching the gorge. The reward at the end of the hourlong hike is finding yourself right between the two highest domes. 

We met only a handful of hikers, none by the time we were halfway. 

Neither of us completed the walk, although Giselle made headway toward the final stretch. Around three-fourths of the way after the downward slope, I turned back. I was not tired, I felt claustrophobic. As the path narrowed, the two domes appeared larger, higher, closer, as though about to wall me in.  

Back at the top of the swell, I settled on the solitary bench where we had earlier rested. From there I watched Giselle disappear far below to my right. 

It was high noon. There was not a soul in sight. The majestic vista was otherworldly. In that rarified moment, the stillness soon stirred a sense of one’s smallness and vulnerability. 

The thought of Giselle, herself alone and out of reach somewhere I would not even venture, sent me feeling for the rosary in my pocket. It must have been 15 minutes before a speck of her image became visible in the distance.  

In the afternoon we finally made our way to Uluru, starting at the Cultural Center, which looked like an irregularly shaped thatched hut. Displays familiarize visitors with Anangu culture and the traditional spiritual law, Tjukurpa (pronounced choo-koor-pa). Uluru’s history, geography, how people should behave and look after country are all laid down in the law and handed down to the next generation through stories, songs, art, and rituals.  

One display tells the story of two creation beings, a python woman and a venomous snake man. They killed each other in battle, leaving their mark on Uluru—the python as the black curving line on the eastern wall of the rock and the snake’s head as a large boulder. 

Uluru, the name Aboriginals gave the rock, has no English meaning.

Walking around its base, visitors pass the caves, or rock shelters, where ancestors camped or performed traditional ceremonies. Markers explain their significance. 

‘Sensitive’ sites

The full walk around the rock’s 11-km circumference takes three to four hours. Giselle and I covered the sections along moderate tracks that pass some caves and fascinating spots.  

Certain sites marked “sensitive” are sacred spaces for rituals specific to one gender. One is where designated senior women orally pass on important stories to young girls as a cultural inheritance. The writings on the cave wall are considered sacred scripture. Taking pictures is prohibited in sensitive sites.   

The kitchen cave is where women and young girls prepared food they gathered from the bush. To this day women continue to teach girls the preparation process.   

Boys became men in the teaching cave. Separated from their families, sometimes for years, they were taught discipline and self-reliance by grandfathers. The elders painted pictures on the cave to teach them how to hunt. 

In the family cave we mingled with a tour group and caught snippets of the guide’s spiel. He likened the large open area to the living room where the father is watching TV after a day of hunting and the children are romping around while the mother is in the back cooking.

Knock on rock 

Generations of Anangu families camped there, shared food and stories, and made pictures, paintings, symbols on the rock to teach children. Rock artworks feature outlines of animals, figures representing animal tracks, and concentric circles. 

Somewhere in the vicinity, I got up close and personal with Uluru. Giselle called me to a spot that the guide from her previous tour pointed out was hollow underneath the surface. She invited me to knock on it, like beating on a bongo drum, as the guide had suggested. I did, producing a thumping sound. 

Uluru is 348 meters high (taller than the Eiffel Tower), but its bulk is underground, 2.5 km deep.

In a cordoned-off stretch we passed a sign, ‘’Permanent Closure October 26, 2019.” That was the day climbing Uluru was banned. The act is disrespectful to the Anangu, who had been campaigning for the ban for decades, even after the government handed back the title deeds to the land in 1985, acknowledging them as the traditional owners.

Our last stop was tucked in a clearing behind lush greenery. It was the Mutitjulu Waterhole, one of the few permanent water sources in the arid landscape. And what a refreshing surprise it was, in every sense of the word! 

Shower of blessings

The sound, like gentle night rain in harmony with a soft breeze, provided the perfect atmosphere for heightened senses to calm down after a day of adventure. Giselle and I basked in the peace and tranquility, as we were fortunate to have the place all to ourselves for a few minutes. You could say we had saved the best for last!

It was the highlight of the tour for me, I later told my Melburnian friend, who has traveled through the Northern Territory. Water is life, and it is widely depicted in Aboriginal art, she said. A recurring theme is the search for water, and the iconic concentric circles are a representation of waterholes and campsites. 

Rainfall is erratic in the arid region. We happened to be around when it got a good drenching—overnight, hours after we toured Uluru-Kata Tjuta Park. We agreed with another hotel guest that it was a blessing. 

On our last full day, intermittent showers rain confined us to the resort, allowing only two windows to view Uluru from a distance, at sunrise and sunset. On that cloudy morning the rock wore a misty veil. 

In the late afternoon, we trod an uphill dirt path across the highway from the resort to an elevated viewing deck. As the setting sun swathed the earth in vibrant orange, a steady stream of people filled the path to the deck. 

Perhaps because it was Holy Tuesday, they conjured up an image of a village procession to a hilltop chapel preceding Vespers. This was, after all, a sacred place, and Uluru has been likened to a church. 

The trip to the Red Center was a gift from Giselle for my 70th birthday. We arrived on the day itself and I got my first glimpse of Uluru at sundown over cocktails and canapes on a viewing deck. We went around the park the next day, winding up at the waterhole. 

It was a rejuvenating start to the eighth decade of my life.      

Angelina G. Goloy is a former journalist and PR consultant in the Philippines. She regularly visits her daughter Giselle, a geologist-environmental scientist, in Sydney.

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“Pangalay,” aka “igal” and “pamansak,” is one such rich dance form of the Sama, the Badjaw, the Tausug, the Jama Mapun and the Yakan of the Sulu Archipelago. 

But a living artifact such as the pangalay must be danced constantly, or it dies. Auspiciously, in the first quarter of 2024, the Year of the Wood Dragon, a dream came true: “Pangalay at Maskara 2024,” which I had conceptualized in 2003. 

This production of the AlunAlun Dance Circle, undertaken in cooperation with the National Commission for Culture and the Arts, proved challenging for the fresh batch of pangalay/igal dancers trained in the Amilbangsa Instruction Method. The young dancers are from the Marikina Dance Guild and the Philippine Barangay Folk Dance Troupe.

“Pangalay at Maskara 2024” demonstrated how the ancient pangalay connects past and present in new choreographies set to traditional percussion, pop, and selected music works of National Artists. Utilizing the compositions of National Artists Lucrecia Kasilag, Antonio Molina, Felipe de Leon, Francisco Feliciano and Antonino Buenaventura in pangalay choreographies paid tribute to their artistic genius and enriched pangalay’s significance as a living heritage. With the use of Asian devices such as masks, puppets, and other properties, the AlunAlun Dance Circle’s new choreographers created innovative steps and movements that are appealing to various audiences, especially the youth.  

The young audiences, generally unfamiliar with the pangalay/igal tradition, experienced the spellbinding quality of traditional postures and gestures ingeniously choreographed to the varied musical selection. The innovative choreographies were presented in disparate stage facilities from Feb. 2 to March 7: the De La Salle University Manila’s Teresa Yuchengco Auditorium, the Miriam College Nuvali Covered Court in Laguna, the Marian Auditorium of Miriam College Loyola Heights, and the Manila Metropolitan Theater. 

It was delightful to see the enthusiastic response of the throngs of young people regaled by the provocative fusion of tradition and innovation. Importantly, “Pangalay at Maskara 2024” marked significant milestones: the 24^th anniversary of the AlunAlun Dance Circle; the culmination of the National Arts Month in February; and the observance of the International Women’s Month in March.

Mabuhay! Something good is always a joy to remember.

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While there is an array of international cuisines to satisfy visitors, the island’s rich culinary history is generally overlooked. In response, a group of residents, cooks and farmers initiated the Slow Food Community in 2023, aiming to develop Boracay’s food system and culinary identity.

Beginnings

Kate Tagua, owner of Meninas Oven, has always had a passion for cooking since she was a child. Her culinary studies in Enderun Colleges took her to France, where she underwent a rigorous internship in a restaurant with two Michelin stars. 

Her course mates eventually pursued further training in international fine-dining restaurants after graduation, but Kate bought a plane ticket home to explore the flavors of her childhood, the cuisine of the province of Aklan. But before she could figure out where to start, the Covid-19 pandemic took hold and she and the other 40,000 residents had to face a troubling reality: Their fragile food system that could feed over 1 million tourists a year could not support them when they needed it most.

As the pandemic wore on, the wet markets sold less fresh and more expensive produce. Homes and establishments began to rely heavily on grocery stores like Boracay Mini Mart, which is owned by Kate’s family. 

But Kate recalled that her mother had “a hard time,” and had to sell “mostly canned goods and store-bought items to customers because it was hard importing fruits and vegetables from around the Philippines.” She said her mother bought “most of the fresh produce from Luzon and Mindanao, and it would arrive on the island a bit spoiled already.”

The residents tried to return to the old ways, venturing out to sea for food. Unfortunately, the new generation of fishers was not taught sustainable practices, and the fish population dwindled dangerously. Even Wetland #3 became a food source. Along the edge of this small lake across from D’mall, people knelt with their makeshift fishing lines. But the fish caught there were small and thin, barely enough to feed a child.

It was during these challenging times that Slow Food International took its first steps. Its goals are to promote good, clean and fair food, with its model providing a platform to empower local communities like Boracay.

Kate described her “dream”: “to have a local food system on the island, to utilize our own local produce in which we can lessen our carbon footprint, and to support the farmers in our region.” She called it “a big step” necessary “to achieve sustainability in our local food system.” 

She is not alone in that dream. The other core members are Desiree Segovia (Boracay Women Producers Cooperative, also known as Pinay Boracay), Shria and Patrick Florencio and Chef Derrick (Nonie’s Group), Tumandok tribe members including myself and Gil de los Santos, and local Leonae Graf, and content creators Janna Lejano and Toni Gonzales (Tara Boracay).

Going with the flow

With revenge travel gaining traction, local establishments rushed to bounce back from the setbacks posed by the pandemic and the prolonged closure of Boracay. But the new efforts were building upon the unsteady sands of the island’s food system and cultural identity. 

Reflecting on his experience since 2013, Chef Derrick, head chef of Nonie’s Group, said: “The island is more focused on what is ‘trendy,’ while sometimes forgetting the food history of the region.” 

With the continuing popularity of chain restaurants, local establishments are at risk of being neglected. One way they are offsetting that risk is to adapt whatever is popular in their restaurants as well, often cutting corners and even changing the menu. A common lament: “We are living in a fast-paced world in which the fast-food industry is [dominant], and includes premixes and ingredients that are less nutritious but more enticing to consumers as they appear more affordable for the masses and more convenient for restaurants and households. We naturally tend to lean towards what is easier and faster, and sometimes neglect the essence and value of food that is made out of love, effort, time, and its natural source or roots.” 

Serving what is trendy and appealing to the masses is not the most effective way to attract more tourists. With its heavy reliance on outside sources, Boracay is at the mercy of suppliers. If even such essentials as chicken eggs are not immune to extreme price fluctuations, items like lettuce and avocado that can only be produced in certain areas and in certain seasons, are at risk of short supply. The result: higher prices. 

This is something Boracay cannot afford; with the Philippines’ interisland tourism becoming more and more competitive, “trendy” tastes can now be found elsewhere at lower costs.

Rediscovering Aklan’s flavors

Being the first official Slow Food Community in Aklan, the members embarked on a journey to explore the culinary landscape of the province through data mapping, covering the municipalities of Malay, Ibajay, Tangalan, New Washington, Libacao, Madalag and Batan.

We noticed that even in other towns in Aklan, consumer demand heavily drives the behavior of rural producers. For example, Batan is lined with rows upon rows of nipa palms but households much prefer tuba over coconut due to its comparative longevity over nipa; thus, the practice of utilizing nipa is dying away.

New Washington is famous for talaba (oyster) and even holds festivals for it. But its residents also want to be known for the wide variety of seafood it can offer. A local fisherman brought us around the brackish waters that make the talaba so tasty and showed us the many different types of fish abundant in the area, including what’s called the snake fish that looks exactly like its name. We were surprised to learn that it was not being sold in the market. When prodded, the fisherman said the snake fish tastes like fish but no one is buying it. “So we just have it for our meals,” he said.  

Slow Food Community has identified more than 90 plant, animal, and processed products. It has also uncovered a culinary thread common to 99% of the mapped food products: the use of gata (coconut milk).  In remote communities, gata, along with gawod (young coconut meat), is used to enhance the flavor of every dish. 

A campaign was launched to declare Aklan the “Ginataang Capital of the Philippines” at the first ever Terra Madre Visayas, a project of Slow Food Community in Negros in collaboration with Senate President Pro Tempore Loren Legarda, the National Commission for Culture and the Arts, the Department of Tourism, the provincial government of Negros Occidental led by Gov. Bong Lacson, Rep. Kiko Benitez, Mayor Albee Benitez, and Slow Food International.

During the event, we featured some of the mapped plant produce as well as various heirloom rice grains, courtesy of Ibajay. We also featured and sold a different ginataan dish daily, such as “Inubarang Manok,” or chicken cooked with banana pith (see recipe); “Ginataang Buhay-Buhay,” a plant that grows along bodies of freshwater in Boracay cooked in coconut milk; and “Ginataang Adobong Manok,”  or the famous chicken adobo cooked in coconut milk.

The campaign was intended to draw attention to the undiscovered richness of Aklanon cuisine, a melting pot of ginataan dishes. The dishes received high praise from the attendees, local government officials across the Visayas, members of Slow Food International, and even the event’s special guest, Erwan Heusaff.

Slow Food principles

Collaboration with local government projects, such as the Malay Food Systems Innovation Initiative, is integral to the Slow Food Community’s efforts. The focus is on creating connections among farmers, producers, and consumers to build a local food system that supports regional products and promotes organic farming.

All the farmers are certified but they are hesitant to try organic farming. They are not used to it, said Dienes Cabular, an officer at the Cooperatives Development Office. “They need more push and training.” 

Cabular, too, takes an interest in organic farming and wants to start the practice in his own farm as an example. 

The Slow Food Community in Boracay is planning to help by providing training and identifying the local plants for Aklan’s farms.

The group’s core members, including Pinay Boracay and Nonie’s Group, are now practicing Slow Food principles. advocating for organic practices and promoting healthy, locally sourced food.

Said Nonie’s Chef Derrick: “It has always been part of our mission to give customers good, clean, fair and honest food sourced locally … including in our other restaurants of different concepts—Little Taj (Indian cuisine), Muchos (Latin American cuisine), and Island Izakaya (Japanese cuisine).”

Since its inception in 2013, Pinay Boracay has been advocating for “an Organic Boracay” through its “communal gardens,” said Desiree Segovia, its founder. “We envision uniting the community for a green, organic, healthy Boracay!”

Tumandok Gil de los Santos also has plans in the works to build a hub where the Slow Food Community can feature ginataan dishes. 

The Slow Food Cooks Alliance Philippines, launched in December 2023, seeks the involvement of more chefs, home cooks, and food lovers in exchanging information and highlighting the nature and potential of local ingredients. Chef Derrick, who heads the alliance in Boracay along with Kate Tagua, said it aims “to reach out to the restaurants and establishments to highlight Boracay’s local dishes for tourists and other visitors.” 

He added: “Restaurants and hotels should also ideally embrace the seasonality of endemic ingredients which would help improve the level and capacity of the skills, techniques and imagination of our local culinary community.”

The Slow Food Community envisions continued data mapping, exploring more municipalities in Aklan, and nominating products with market potential for recognition by the Ark of Taste of Slow Food International. 

Here’s an easy recipe for “Inubarang Manok, prepared by the Slow Food Community in Boracay and served at Terra Madre.

Ingredients

1 kilo native chicken, cut up

1 kilo ubod (banana pith)

1 big coconut

1 teaspoon ground pepper

2 pieces of tanglad (lemongrass)

1 onion

4 cloves garlic

1 piece ginger

water

chili peppers

salt to taste

Directions

1. Combine chicken pieces, coconut milk, garlic, ginger, banana pith, pepper, and salt in a pot. Bring the mixture to a boil.

2. Reduce the heat to medium, cover the pot, and simmer for 30 minutes. Drain and set the sauce aside.

3. Heat oil in a pan and sauté the chicken pieces until golden brown. Remove excess oil from the pan.

4. Pour in the saved sauce and let simmer for about 10 minutes.

5. Add chili peppers and continue to simmer for an additional 3 minutes, stirring continuously. Add ginger to the mixture.

6. Serve with steamed rice.

Wynken Gelito, a Tumandok storyteller and the secretary of the Slow Food Community in Boracay, is currently developing No Space 4 Waste (NS4W) Boracay, a social enterprise fighting to reduce plastic and glass pollution on the island. She has worked in nongovernment organizations for four years with a focus on protecting the environment. Check out @slowfood.boracay on Instagram and Slow Food Boracay on Facebook.

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