Conserving watersheds also justice issue

Conserving watersheds also justice issue

December 02, 2008 23:53:00
Maurice Malanes
Philippine Daily Inquirer

BAGUIO CITY – When Ifugao Gov. Teodoro Baguilat Jr. argued in a recent watershed summit that upland communities must be justly compensated for maintaining the headwaters and watersheds for the lowlands, he articulated the ecological principle that all ecosystems are interconnected.

Unfortunately, government policies on watersheds and ecosystems remain disjointed. Thus communities or provinces that host watersheds, which supply the dams that produce electricity and irrigate lowland farms, are not part of the “host communities” or “host LGUs (local government units)” as defined by the Department of Energy, said Baguilat.

As a result, provinces with watersheds have long been deprived of a just share from national wealth taxes, lamented Baguilat, who spoke during an inter-agency watershed summit in Baguio City in October.

To the Ifugao governor, it is time to give justice to Cordillera’s watershed communities, whose abundant natural resources have been conserved and managed through indigenous systems “passed on to us by our ancestors.”

He said the one centavo per kilowatt-hour set aside for host communities for the DOE’s development programs is limited only to communities where the dam reservoir is located. This, he said, is stipulated in the implementing rules and regulations of the Electric Power Industry Reform Act (Epira) of 2001.

Trickles

“Only trickles from the programs for the corporate social responsibility of the operating company reach the communities where water is sourced out, one of which is sponsoring cultural events,” Baguilat said.

He cited the Magat Dam, one of Asia’s biggest dams in Ramon, Isabela, which produces 360 megawatts (MW) of electricity and irrigates 85,000 hectares of farmland in Isabela and Nueva Vizcaya.

To Baguilat, Magat is Ifugao. Isabela claims otherwise.

Ifugao and Isabela officials are locked in a court battle over the jurisdiction of Magat Dam.

But while the case has yet to be resolved, the two provinces negotiated in March for an equal sharing scheme on the transfer tax accrued from the facility’s sale from the National Power Corp. to SN Aboitiz, said Baguilat.

For many years since the Magat Dam began operating, Isabela has been getting the bigger share of the 70-30 percent sharing from the dam’s franchise tax. In 2001, Ifugao officials had to haggle with then Isabela Gov. Faustino Dy Jr. for a 50-50 percent sharing of the franchise tax.

Struggle

Ifugao since then has been getting its share from the tax. “But we had to struggle for it,” said Baguilat. “Still, the share from the tax is unjustified as the true beneficiaries – the watershed keepers – are not yet justly indemnified.”

“The share we have received is only the fees from the dam operators for doing business, but communities which have kept the watersheds have yet to be compensated,” he said. “Without the watersheds, there would be no dams and no business.”

Baguilat attributes the remaining forests of Ifugao to ancestors, who have taught the way of the “muyong,” a clan or community-managed woodlot, which can still be found above clusters of rice terraces in the province.

Under the “muyong” tradition, only clan members are allowed to harvest wood from the woodlot and that whatever wood is harvested must be for the family’s needs only (such as for housing) and not for commercial purposes.

The irony, however, is that while Ifugao has a rich resource, which is primarily water, the province remains the 10th poorest in the country and its people remain “cash-poor,” said Baguilat.

Many Ifugao residents were forced by poverty to migrate elsewhere while some have followed the example of Benguet vegetable growers who would clear forests to grow commercial vegetables such as cabbages and potatoes. This is particularly happening in the forested town of Tinoc bordering Benguet.

Baguilat is leading Ifugao officials in helping push for what he calls a “pro-watershed cradle program,” which is being coordinated with civil society groups.

One of the program’s concerns is educating residents to rethink their commercial vegetable farming approach and shift to organic farming and agro-forestry such as integrating coffee, fruit trees with hardwood and other tree species.

Under the program, the Ifugao government also helps cooperatives, community associations and family enterprises how to process, package and market their products.

Baguio's oldest credit co-op soldiers on

Baguio's oldest credit co-op soldiers on
Unaffected by slowdown
By Maurice Malanes
Northern Luzon Bureau
Posted date: November 23, 2008

BAGUIO CITY--While some business sectors are feeling the pinch of the global economic meltdown or slowdown, this city's oldest credit cooperative servicing almost 20,000 members remains robust and kicking.

"Thank God, we are hardly affected by the global economic meltdown so we continue to help uplift the lives of ordinary folk," says lawyer Jesus Cendaña, board chair of the Baguio-Benguet Community Credit Cooperative or BBCCC.

Cendaña attributes the cooperative's strength and stability to what he calls the "power of the ‘we'" or the cooperative principle of "relying on our collective initiative and collective self-reliance."

"Ever since our cooperative was founded, we never borrowed money from outside sources, but we completely relied on the capital shares of members," he says.
Cendaña also credits the cooperative's success to its "service above profit philosophy anchored on self-responsibility, self-discipline, teamwork, solidarity, respect, industry, democracy and good governance."

Founded in 1958 by 15 members, most of them teachers of Saint Louis College (now Saint Louis University), what was then known as the Baguio Teachers Credit Union started with only a P250 capital.

In 1976, the credit union amended its by-laws, transformed itself into what is now the BBCCC, and opened its membership to all residents of Baguio and Benguet.
The cooperative now has more than 19,000 members and has P940 million in total assets, including a seven-story building, which houses the cooperative's offices, a grocery store, a 200-seat conference hall, and three workshop rooms.

The BBCCC celebrated its 50th founding anniversary in October and "we're still counting and growing," says Cendaña.

It has come a long way so much so that it is now "extending our blessings to the community" through the BBCCC Foundation, says Amparo Rimas, the foundation's chief executive officer.

The foundation has adopted a barangay (village) in nearby La Trinidad town, helping build a water system and providing facilities such as a sound system for the village's daycare center.

It has also adopted one of Baguio's parks for it to maintain and improve and has offered scholarships to needy but deserving students.

The cooperative counts among its members lowly folk such as car-wash boys and vegetable vendors and prominent people such as the late Justice Romeo Brawner.
For ordinary folk, the cooperative, which offers various loans, has become a takbuhan (fallback) during emergencies such as when members had to pay tuition or when one had to pay a placement fee for an overseas job.

"One time I had to buy milk formula and I had no money so I had to run to the co-op grocery store," businesswoman Golden Guevarra, a co-op member, says. "I would also loan from the co-op to repaint or repair our passenger jeepney."

Besides tuition for her children, government office worker Glea Lagon says loans from the cooperative helped build their house and helped them procure a vehicle.

"Without a scholarship from the BBCCC, I wouldn't have been a registered nurse by now," says Rachelle Ann Coquia, a co-op associate member who passed the nursing board in 2007.

It is these various services which continue to attract members to the cooperative, Cendaña says and BBCCC continues to campaign for more people to join.

He says some 50 to 80 new members are added each month. "We are targeting to draw 100 members each month through our advocacy drive," he says, noting that the cooperative's current membership is still a small fraction of Baguio's population of 350,000 and Benguet's more than 330,000.

The ‘spirits’ of the Cordilleras

The ‘spirits’ of the Cordilleras
Maurice Malanes
Philippine Daily Inquirer

November 01, 2008

BAGUIO CITY – Many Cordillera upland folk are practically spirit-filled each day of their lives and not only shortly before or during Halloween.

So it’s not surprising to see an elder whispering a prayer and pouring a drop of native wine or liquor before he and others partake of their drink in someone’s house or at the neighborhood variety store.

In Kibungan town in Benguet, this practice, called petik, is for spirits, which include those of soldiers who fought and died in World War II and other members of the community who had gone ahead.

It is believed that the petik helps assure that nothing untoward will happen to those partaking of the wine and liquor.

With the petik, the discussion and the exchange of ideas and stories of men in the community will run smoothly as the spirits are not only watching over but guiding and inspiring them.

On the other hand, failure to perform the petik or missing out some important names of dead ancestors while performing the rite will be suspected as the cause of some troubles such as violence that may mar the drinking session and discussions.

There are also spirits in the mountains, forests, rivers and caves.

The Kankanaey believe that the kakading and pinad-ing live in the mountains and forests. A favorite abode of these spirits is a water-bearing tree much like the balete.

A tree believed occupied by these spirits, therefore, cannot be cut. Otherwise, something untoward such as sickness or even death can befall a person who dares to cut the tree.

If a tree has to be cut because a road has to be built, for example, the spirits have to be appeased through a ritual, which involves sacrificing and butchering an animal such as a pig or chicken.

The rivers also have spirit guardians called pinten.

A person has to first seek the consent of these spirits before he goes swimming or fishing. To get consent, one should first throw a pebble in a river pool and utter a short prayer offered to the pinten.

A no-no for the pinten is dirtying the river. It is believed that a person who dirties the river can get sick, a belief common among upland folk who take their indigenous spirituality seriously.

Expanding political arenas for indigenous peoples

Inquirer Northern Luzon : Expanding political arenas for tribes

By Maurice Malanes
Philippine Daily Inquirer

Posted date: October 15, 2008

BAGUIO CITY – Times have changed a lot since the 1970s when celebrating what was then called “Tribal Filipino Month” was mainly another form of protest against a dictatorship that killed and made martyrs of the likes of Kalinga chieftain Macli-ing Dulag.

Under the late President Ferdinand Marcos’ iron-fist rule, the Church and other religious organizations had instituted “Tribal Filipino Sunday” every second Sunday of October. Special Masses or ecumenical worship services were held to honor tribal Filipinos. Celebrants paid tribute to them and credited them for their wisdom in protecting and managing their lands and resources.

Tribal Filipinos, for instance, had been hailed for hunting, gathering and mining (or panning) from the forests only what they needed. Such appreciation of wise thinking was made in contrast to what their leaders and activists considered the corporate greed behind large-scale logging, mining and other extractive industries.

In the Cordillera, the celebrants lamented and spoke strongly against the “militarization” of tribal communities, which had protested against these industries, along with the Marcos regime’s “development projects” such as the proposed series of World Bank-funded dams along the Chico River in Mt. Province and Kalinga.

Marcos’ soldiers killed Dulag on April 24, 1980, but not the philosophy on land stewardship he articulated and the protests against the dams he helped lead. Among other things, he had said nobody could appropriate for himself the land because “only the race owns the land.”

“How can you own what outlives you?” Dulag once said.

Indigenous culture

In every tribal Filipino celebration, participants would not only pay homage to martyrs like Dulag but would also celebrate whatever aspects of indigenous culture had survived colonization. These included a strong sense of community, cooperation, restorative (as opposed to punitive) justice and holistic spirituality (as opposed to the dualistic religious world-view that colonizers introduced).

The celebration was, in a way, driving across an important message: Even before almost 400 years of convent culture under the Spaniards and more than 50 years of American influence, a flourishing culture existed in this archipelago.

In Marcos’ time, the event was limited to tribal leaders, activists, church leaders and other advocates. As a form of protest against the regime, it was usually held in churches, school gymnasiums or auditoriums or in public parks after a street march – which revealed the constricted space or arena for indigenous voices.

Changing political arena

The political arenas have changed, particularly after a new Constitution was put in place in 1987. After the lobby efforts of tribal Filipino leaders and representatives themselves, the Constitution has finally recognized the rights of “indigenous cultural communities,” including the rights to their ancestral lands and domains and to govern themselves according to their customary laws and practices.

These constitutional rights ushered in an enabling law – the Indigenous Peoples’ Rights Act (Ipra) of 1997. At the United Nations, the Philippines is often cited as a model of some sort because of the Ipra.

The act created a separate bureaucracy, the National Commission on Indigenous Peoples, which has employed mostly indigenous professionals.

During the Marcos regime, the political arenas for indigenous peoples were the streets, and, in some extreme cases, the hills.

Despite what some indigenous peoples’ leaders consider its flaws, the Ipra has helped provide a venue for indigenous peoples to engage the government. For example, indigenous communities can use Ipra’s free and prior informed consent (FPIC) process in evaluating and assessing and finally accepting or rejecting a development project, such as a mine or a dam.

Critics, however, cite some instances in which the FPIC process had been subverted. Their common issue was that only a few elders or local government leaders were involved. Some indigenous leaders had alleged that cases of bribery and corruption had tainted it.

Still, the FPIC process, if combined with indigenous peoples’ own vigilance, offers an arena where they can get a better bargain or register their sentiments.

Global arenas

Many of the issues of indigenous peoples, such as those related to land and resources, still persist. But the political arenas through which they could ventilate these issues have expanded even to the global front.

At the UN, indigenous peoples lobbied and strengthened their own ranks and networks and pushed for the creation of an arena through which they could be heard.

One of these arenas is the UN Permanent Forum on Indigenous Issues, which has been chaired since 2006 by Victoria Tauli-Corpuz, a Kankanaey from Besao, Mt. Province. An activist since the First Quarter Storm, Tauli-Corpuz had immersed herself in the local indigenous peoples’ movement before working with the UN.

Other arenas, which needed more indigenous voices, include the UN Convention on Biological Diversity and the UN Framework Convention on Climate Change.

One of the good news for indigenous peoples is the UN Declaration on the Rights of Indigenous Peoples, which the UN General Assembly approved on Sept. 13, 2007.

Along with the Ipra, the declaration, says Tauli-Corpuz, can also be invoked by indigenous peoples in asserting their rights to their traditional knowledge, culture, land and resources, and their right to determine how best to govern themselves.

But unless it is put to good use, the declaration is just another document. The challenge, says indigenous peoples’ advocate and lawyer Elpidio Peria, is how to apply this by continually invoking it so it becomes a living document.

Love in action in the midst of war

Inquirer Northern Luzon
Love in action in the midst of war

By Maurice Malanes
Northern Luzon Bureau
First Posted 04:27:00 10/01/2008

BAGUIO CITY – An Army officer calls it “Project I.S.L.A.M.” or I Sincerely Love All Muslims. Having seen killings and sufferings, he conceived the project amid an all-out war that then President Joseph Estrada waged against the Moro Islamic Liberation Front in 2000.

Like the recent armed clashes ignited by controversies over a proposed government-MILF agreement on an expanded Bangsamoro homeland, the war of March-July 2000 exacted heavy collateral damage. Scores of innocent civilians, including women and children, were killed and thousands of others were left homeless, hungry and in despair.

Survivors – both Christians and Muslims – couldn’t help feeling bitter at a conflict that left widows and orphans. Their situation worried Lt. Col. Johnny Macanas, who was then assigned to help rehabilitate 100,000 Christian and Muslim evacuees in Marawi City. First-hand, he noted the “prejudice against our Muslim brethren.”

Now camp commander of the Philippine Military Academy in Baguio City, Macanas cites an incident when he and his troops went to give out medicines to the Muslim evacuees, but they refused.

“I asked why, and a Muslim elder told me, ‘What can we do with these medicines when we haven’t eaten for three days,’” he recalls. “This broke my heart because I learned that the government personnel in charge of relief operation gave food items only to Christian evacuees.”

Macanas, a Roman Catholic, says he prayed, “asking the Lord what I can do to serve our Muslim brothers and sisters and help bring peace.”

Reach out with love

Suddenly, he remembered Pastor Florentino de Jesus of the Christian Missionary Alliance who, before he died in September 1999, had advocated that Christians should reach out to Muslims with love.

The late pastor from Zamboanga City inspired Macanas to help establish Project Islam. At that time, many Muslim evacuees decided to return to and die in their home villages rather than remain at the cramped evacuation centers.

Among the Muslims that Project Islam first served were 30 families – the first batch of over 300 families – who sought to return to their village of Delabayan in Kauswagan, Lanao del Norte.

Macanas mobilized Christian leaders to explore how they could help rebuild the lives of the Delabayan villagers.

A church leader, Pastor Alex Eduave of a Pentecostal group, first approached Macanas to help in the project. The pastor and his congregation in no time collected rice and other food items, and gave these to the residents.

As they handed out two kilograms of rice for each Muslim family, Eduave and his members were apologetic for not being able to bring more. But Macanas says Delabayan leader Kamlun Moner told Eduave and his members: “It’s not the quantity of rice you gave that matters most but your big hearts.”

Macanas planted camote (sweet potato) in his family’s idle lot in Cagayan de Oro City and was able to harvest and donate several kilograms to Delabayan.

The next concern of Macanas and his supporters was how to help rebuild the houses of the returning villagers (the first batch had to stay first at a bullet-riddled school building).

The houses were razed after a military shelling and air bombardment in 2000. This was the fourth time since the 1970s, Macanas says, when Delabayan became a battlefield between the military and the Moro National Liberation Front.

From funds raised through special offerings of church members and contributions from donors, some coming from as far as Hong Kong, Macanas built 12 seven-meter by nine-meter houses, which were inaugurated in April 2001. An imam (Muslim cleric) and Eduave prayed and blessed the first batch of houses.

Having seen the success of Project Islam’s housing project, the National Housing Authority coursed P6 million through its leaders to build more. With this amount, houses for more than 300 families were put up.

Their secret: All the labor was done by volunteers and the villagers themselves so they spent only P50,000 for each house.

Macanas and his volunteers also built a water system for the community.

Despite the efforts of Macanas and his church supporters, the Delabayan villagers still had one fear – that they will be converted to Christianity.

To dispel their apprehension, Macanas proposed to his supporters that they help rebuild the community’s mosque. This would prove that they were just out to reach out with love and with no conditions.

Citing doctrinal reasons, half of the 100 pastors who helped build the houses declined to help. But Macanas and the other pastors pursued the plan, sought donations again from donors, and built a mosque bigger than the damaged one.

This finally earned the full trust of the community, prompting Moner to declare that they have become “born-again Muslims, who have renounced rebellion,” says Macanas.

Delabayan is now known as Islam Village, where more people from other places have also settled.

Waging peace via information technology

Waging peace via information technology

By Maurice Malanes
Philippine Daily Inquirer
First Posted 00:18:00 09/10/2008

BAGUIO CITY – Through two movie house-size screens installed at the Baguio Convention Center, over 1,000 high school students played a scissor-paper-rock game, held workshops, exchanged testimonies and ideas, and prayed and sang with their fellow students in Cotabato City.

The theme of the three-hour Internet-based video conference on Aug. 29 revolved around building peace and mutual understanding through dialogue between and among Christian, Muslim and even non-Christian and non-Muslim youth.

The virtual conference’s theme struck a relevant chord with the conflict and violence in a few areas in Mindanao, which were ignited by a scuttled proposed agreement based on an expanded Bangsamoro territory.

Organized by PeaceTech, the video conference enabled students of Baguio and Cotabato, who were grouped into 10 to 12, to reflect during a 25-minute workshop on how ignorance breeds prejudice, which eventually leads to conflict.

PeaceTech is a nongovernment organization holding peace-building-geared video dialogue series among Muslim and non-Muslim youths in various countries. Among its supporters is Queen Rania al Abdullah of Jordan.

In the same workshop, the students pondered upon how they could benefit if Filipinos were united and how they would envision the future of their country.

In another workshop, the students were asked about what they loved in their faith, what three steps they could take to promote better Muslim-Christian understanding, and what they could do to help promote peace.

Battling ignorance

Volunteer facilitators synthesized the reflections of each of the workshop groups and two representatives from Baguio and one from Cotabato were chosen to report a summary of what transpired in both workshops.

The representatives recognized ignorance as the root of prejudice, which, in turn, leads to stereotyping and generalization that create distrust and hatred and ultimately conflict. Both underscored the need for more education and enlightenment to fight and overcome ignorance.

“For our part as youth, we can no longer afford to be apathetic. We should get involved and seek to deepen and broaden our knowledge and understanding about our Muslim brothers and sisters if we are to overcome our ignorance and prejudice,” said the Baguio representative.

The Cotabato representative noted that both Christianity and Islam are religions of love and peace so conflict, he said, could be resolved only through dialogue.

“We love our own faith and we are committed to understand each other’s faith even as we have to remind one another to appreciate and work with what is good in each of us,” he said.

Rahana Ganda, an Office of Muslim Affairs staffer who moderated the video conference in Cotabato City, said the youth of Baguio and Cotabato were united in their vision to achieve peace as they stressed the need for open minds and tolerance.

The activity also enabled two women to share their experiences of prejudice and violence under the hands of some Filipinos from both Christian and Islamic faiths.

A girl introduced only as Jeryl said she, her family and relatives were abducted in July while traveling in Mindanao. An armed gang flagged down a van, in which Jeryl and her relatives were riding, and demanded all Christians to alight.

“We, girls and women, were sent home, but the gang members mercilessly killed my two uncles,” Jeryl said.

She said she had difficulty overcoming a feeling of hatred against Muslims after what happened.

“But as a born-again Christian, I had to open my heart and mind to forgiveness,” she said, noting the incident was not the fault of all Muslims.

Theater actor Bart Guingona, the PeaceTech video conference moderator in Baguio, and Ganda in Cotabato appreciated Jeryl’s boldness and strength in moving toward healing through forgiveness despite her experience.

In Cotabato, a Muslim girl, Yas, also shared her experience during an evacuation of civilians in Kauswagan, Lanao del Norte, who were fleeing an all-out war against the Moro Islamic Liberation Front in 2000.

“Would you believe, only Christians were being rescued [and allowed to board the boats]?” said Yas. “So I was crying, pitying myself for the misfortune of being a Muslim.”

Like Jeryl, it took Yas some time before she overcame the bitterness she felt after that experience. And like Jeryl, Yas leaned on one important teaching from her faith – making room in her heart for forgiveness.

Asked about how she perceives Christians now after the experience, Yas said: “I realized it would be unfair to regard all Christians to be the same [as those who refused us to board the boat]. I also realized that we can have inner peace only if we are able to forgive.”

Common humanity

Speakers for the video conference stressed that all religions, if unmasked of all their external trappings, essentially talk about how all human beings are interconnected. They also said Christianity, Islam and other religions all advocate peace and harmony.

Fr. Rene Oliveros, a Jesuit priest who also specializes in Islamic studies, said Christianity’s ideal core teaching on peace could be summarized by the Beatitudes, a passage from the Sermon on the Mount declaring what makes a man blessed.

He said the Beatitudes, among other things, talks about how “blessed are the peacemakers for they are children of God.”

Oliveros lamented, however, that Christianity today has become “far removed from the teachings of Christ.” He traced this to “institutionalized Christianity, which became a tool for colonization.”

“The kind of Christianity brought by our colonizers already had a prejudice against Muslims. We need to liberate ourselves from this,” he said.

Prof. Moner Bajunaid, Marawi State University chancellor, said Islam is a religion of peace and peacemaking and its followers have to continuously work and struggle for peace.

Former Bukidnon Rep. Nereus Acosta, who attended the Baguio event, reiterated Albert Einstein’s edict on peace and asked the students from Baguio and Cotabato to remember this passage: “Peace cannot be kept by force; it can only be achieved through understanding.”

As war continues to be waged in some villages in Mindanao, PeaceTech has embarked on waging peace via information technology, primarily banking on the youth who are going to inherit the country.

And why wage peace?

“It is in the minds of men that war begins, so it is also in the minds of people where peace must be waged,” said Imam Bedejim Abdullah, one of the event’s organizers.

Einstein gives vital clue for Filipino inventor

Einstein provides vital clue for inventor

By Maurice Malanes
Northern Luzon Bureau
First Posted 21:40:00 09/14/2008

BAGUIO CITY -- THE CURRENT fuel crisis does not worry Victor G. Ayco at all.

A scientist and inventor, Ayco sees the crisis as an opportunity for the country to tap the inexhaustible potentials that science can offer in finding alternatives to fossil fuel.

“Many seem to anticipate a bleak future because of the prospect that one day the world’s fossil fuel deposits will finally run dry,” says Ayco, 70. “But fossil fuel is not the only source of energy that can run engines of cars and other machines. There are other inexhaustible alternatives [to fossil fuel].”

He based his radical optimism on what he regards as a vital clue from one of the geniuses of the 20th century -- Albert Einstein. That clue is the theory of relativity, or E=mc², where E is energy, m is mass, and c is the velocity of light.

The Mandaluyong-based chemical engineer says Einstein’s theory helped him perfect his gas-saving product, which he demonstrated recently before Baguio City motorists.

Essentially, Einstein’s relativity theory, says Ayco, states that “from matter we can produce energy.”

His invention called “aero-nitro power injector” took 15 years of research and experiment. Patented on Dec. 11, 1985, the device has been marketed only recently through Energy Philippines Inc., a private firm, which Ayco co-owns with other partners.

The inventor says his device “converts ordinary nitrogen (a noncombustible substance) in the atmosphere into combustible nitro-gas, and serves as gasoline and diesel additive in gaseous form for efficient engine combustion.”

With efficient engine combustion, a vehicle can run more kilometers with less fuel and emits almost zero toxic pollutants.

Like a science teacher

In introducing his product, Ayco explains like a science teacher how an internal combustion engine performs two processes. One is the chemical process, which involves combustion or burning. The other is mechanical, which involves motion.

The combustion process for gasoline or diesel involves burning hydrogen and carbon. Incompletely burned fuel leads to the formation of three chemicals -- hydrocarbons, carbon monoxide, and oxides of nitrogen, all of which have been proven hazardous to health and the environment.

Incompletely burned or unburned fuel can also cause other harm. This is because carbon gets stuck inside the engine and can lead to “spark knock” or detonation, which can destroy an internal combustion engine.

Detonation occurs when, after spark fires, it creates a small fireball that spreads across the cylinder.

Unburned carbon sticks to the engine chamber walls and are emitted from the exhaust pipes as carbon dioxide and carbon monoxide.

With unburned carbon, a car engine runs roughly, fuel easily runs out, power gets lost during acceleration, toxic black smoke gets emitted, and carbon deposits are formed within the combustion area and intake valve.

Saving fuel

Noxious wastes, Ayco says, deprive a vehicle of fuel economy and performance, leading to costly repairs.

Ayco’s “aero-nitro power injector” is encased in a stainless steel cylinder, measuring five inches long and two inches in diameter, which can be attached to the intake manifold of any diesel or gas engine.

He says the gadget enhances engine performance, eliminates smoke-belching, provides stronger engine power, and saves on fuel.

Activated chemically during fuel and air intake, the invention harnesses the air’s potential elements by producing up to 99.5 percent burning efficiency of fuel in the combustion chamber of an engine.

Ayco says he is processing how to get credits through what is called carbon trading because his invention prevents by 30 to 40 percent the formation of carbon dioxide, carbon monoxide, and nitrogen oxides -- substances that are ruining the ozone layer.

Using a chemical catalyst, which Ayco has refused to identify calling it a trade secret, the gadget converts unwanted carbons and other volatile elements present in the atmosphere into combustible gaseous form.

Since the invention helps a car attain perfect fuel burn with near-zero nitrous oxide emission, which gives more power to a vehicle, using the gadget is like converting low octane fuel into high octane gasoline, he says.

The gadget also increases engine power by a maximum of 25 horsepower and increases torque by a maximum of 1,000 RPM (revolutions per minute).

Torque, also called moment of a force in physics, is the tendency of a force to rotate the body to which it is applied.

Ayco says his invention is “like a catalytic cracking reactor using a catalyst material that assists in a chemical reaction but does not take part in it, thus giving greater gasoline yield.”

Increasing mileage

Based on tests by government agencies, including the departments of energy, science and technology and environment and natural resources, Ayco’s invention can increase engine power by 35 to 60 percent, mileage by two to four kilometers to a liter, and engine life span by six to 10 years.

The tests also show that the gadget can cut down maintenance costs by up to 50 percent, can prolong life span of spark plugs and glow plugs, can decrease frequency of tune-ups and oil changes, and can reduce carbon dioxide and carbon monoxide emissions by 99.5 percent.

Ayco also says his gadget is not bulky and easy to install without having to alter engine as it can just be attached to the engine air intake manifold.

Suitable to most types of stationary and mobile combustion engines, the gadget can also last six to eight years and can be recharged after maximum use.

Ayco says that two important substances used in his gas-saving gadget are carbon and hydrogen derived from limestone.

Synthetic fuel

If taken a step farther, these limestone-derived substances combined with water plus a catalyst, which again he will not disclose, can produce synthetic fuel, which is much cleaner and more efficient than fossil fuels.

“My car actually runs on this synthetic fuel,” he says.

He invented his synthetic fuel in the 1980s and had sought government help to protect and mass produce it. But government agencies were lukewarm to his invention.

“This is understandable because Ayco has invented something which can change the course of civilization,” says Bob Roldan, one of the marketing executives of Ayco. “You can just imagine the implication over those who control the oil industry.”

In the meantime, Ayco and his business partners are busy marketing the aero-nitro power injector not only locally but also in Canada, Belgium and other countries.

At P9,000 per unit and with a 10-year warranty, where payments may be returned if one is not satisfied with the performance, Ayco’s invention is making brisk sales in urban communities seeking to reduce air pollution.

Unsung hero helps tell Benguet history

	INQUIRER NORTHERN LUZON Unsung hero helps tell Benguet history
	By Maurice Malanes Philippine Daily Inquirer
	Posted date: August 19, 2008
	MANKAYAN, Benguet – Then First Lady Esperanza Osmeña, wife of President Sergio Osmeña Sr., had baptized an Igorot soldier “Robin Hood,” not because of what the hero stood for but because of his height (almost six feet) and agility as he helped evacuate the First Family during World War II. “It was not clear to me now why the First Lady would call me Robin Hood,” says Amando Bolislis, now 88. “But I remember the First Lady suggesting that in case of promotion, ‘Robin Hood’ should be included.” Bolislis was one of those nameless, if not faceless, soldiers who helped rescue the Osmeñas in September 1943. From the Presidential Mansion in Baguio City, Bolislis and other soldiers took the First Family, as well as eight maids and two nurses, to safety in what was known as Camp Shangrila in the village of Sarat in Kapangan, Benguet. “From time to time, we had to carry on our backs or on stretchers the First Lady and other members of the family if we had to cross rivers or pass through muddy trails,” says Bolislis, who was then only 23. Now with gray hair and some teeth missing, Bolislis and his wife, Esther, would travel from their house in Cervantes, Ilocos Sur, to visit some of their children in Mankayan, Benguet, where he retired in 1980 as a security chief at Lepanto Consolidated Mining Co. A native of Kibungan town, Bolislis was among the young Igorot people who enlisted to fight the invading Japanese Imperial Army in the last war. In the jungles between Kapangan in Benguet and Bagulin in La Union, he was inducted on Oct. 9, 1942, as a rifleman of B Company, 43rd Infantry of the Philippine Scouts under Capt. Parker Calvert. Dangerous mission After training for six months on military tactics under Guilabo Caday-as of Kibungan and Sgt. Emilio Velasco of Mt. Province, Bolislis engaged in intelligence gathering and ambuscades against the Japanese along what used to be called Mountain Trail (now Halsema Highway) and in Baguio and La Trinidad. Bolislis did his first most dangerous mission in March 1943: To deliver an important letter to an Igorot sergeant in Bontoc, Mt. Province. The sergeant, in turn, would relay the message to Col. Donald Blackburn, an American officer of the 11th Infantry Regiment who escaped from Bataan and went to Kiangan, Ifugao, to lead a guerrilla force there. From Kapangan, Bolislis would have to deliver the message by foot. Donning only a g-string in which the carefully rolled letter was concealed and a blanket wrapped around his body, the barefoot soldier took an early breakfast, uttered a silent prayer, and embarked on his mission. His first obstacle was a Japanese checkpoint at Kilometer 90 in Buguias, Benguet. A Japanese sentry stopped and studied the tall, lanky Igorot in g-string. The Japanese got a shovel and barked, “Come, follow me!” Bolislis was frightened. He thought he would be digging his own grave. But the Japanese ushered him to a hill where he was asked to dig and gather roots of cogon grass. After gathering about half a kilo of cogon roots, Bolislis was asked to wash these so the Japanese could brew it in a big pot of boiling water. The roots, Bolislis discovered, were for tea. The Japanese allowed Bolislis to leave. “He kicked me in the butt before letting me go,” he says. He continued his journey until another Japanese sentry stopped him in Mount Data. After studying Bolislis from head to foot, the Japanese let him go. Crazy “With my getup, he must have thought I was crazy,” he says. “But again he kicked me from behind before letting me leave.” It was almost dark when Bolislis reached Dantay, a village at a junction leading to the towns of Sagada and Bontoc. He went to a house where an elderly couple, surnamed Bawingan, welcomed and hosted him for the night. The man, he found out, used to be a soldier at Camp Holmes (now Camp Dangwa) in La Trinidad. The next day, Bolislis proceeded to Bontoc. Not far from the town, he noticed a wooden drum being filled with water from a dripping spring. A Japanese sentry appeared and stopped Bolislis, ordering him to carry the drum before he was asked to leave. It was mid-morning when Bolislis reached Bontoc. He was instructed to look for a red house and to ask for “Wasay,” actually an alias for one Sergeant Anongos. When he got hold of the letter, Anongos told Bolislis: “This letter could have cost your life.” To this, Bolislis replied, “Kabunian (God) was on my side.” The letter, it turned out, contains an operation plan for guerrilla warfare. With his first mission accomplished, Bolislis was promoted from private first class to corporal when he reported to his superiors at Camp Shangrila. Another mission Bolislis was given another risky mission in December 1944: To get a sketch of the Lepanto mine in Mankayan, particularly pointing where the powerhouse stood. The Japanese had taken over the Lepanto copper and gold mines and the US Armed Forces in the Far East-Northern Luzon had intended to bomb the area. From Sinipsip village in the Bakun-Buguias border, Bolislis, also wearing a g-string and a blanket, was able to integrate with vegetable vendors. Disguising himself as a porter, he and the vendors trooped to Lepanto. He was able to enter the tightly guarded mining compound. But a Filipino Japanese collaborator became suspicious of Bolislis and brought him to a junkyard where he was tortured. He failed in his mission, but the sketch of the Lepanto powerhouse was so important that his superiors ordered him to return to Lepanto. He took another route, passing through Ampusongan village in Bakun town. From a mountain vantage point, he got a good view of the Lepanto mine with its powerhouse. He got the sketch. With the mission accomplished, he was promoted to second lieutenant. More battles Bolislis and other local soldiers joined the fierce battles in Lepanto and Mankayan, and along the Mountain Trail, which was still controlled by the Japanese in 1945. After seeing action in many battles in 1945, Bolislis fell ill and was taken to Mt. Pulag to rest and recuperate. While recovering, Bolislis got a mission order from Capt. Dennis Molintas: To evacuate to safety some 5,000 residents, including women and children, in Bokod, Benguet. He led all residents to safe grounds after crossing the Agno River and climbing Mt. Buhaw in Bokod. “The only casualty was a carabao (water buffalo),” he recalls. Bolislis left the service on May 7, 1946, and went home to Kibungan where he was welcomed with a traditional thanksgiving feast. Having finished only Grade 3, Bolislis, who speaks good English, would tell of his war exploits during family and clan reunions or parties. His story forms part of the still untold or unwritten stories of local soldiers, who helped liberate Benguet from the Japanese on Aug. 15, 1945, a historic day for the province.

Breaking free from ‘circle of poison’

http://newsinfo.inquirer.net/inquirerheadlines/regions/view_article.php?article_id=151512
	INQUIRER NORTHERN LUZON Breaking free from ‘circle of poison’
	By Maurice Malanes Northern Luzon Bureau
	Posted date: July 30, 2008
	LA TRINIDAD, Benguet – Farmer-entrepreneur Ardan Copas grew up in Buguias, Benguet, the country’s tropical vegetable capital, where chemicals have long been used as quick fixes for crop growth and diseases. Now, he seeks to break free from chemical dependence in farming. “I would say my eyes were finally opened and I’m now enlightened on the wisdom of organic farming,” Copas says. Only in his 20s, Copas was one of 17 farmers, entrepreneurs, academics and government employees who on June 30 graduated with a certificate in practical organic agriculture, a three-month course at the Benguet State University (BSU) in La Trinidad town. Copas and the other graduates belonged to the first batch to finish a nine-module course, which covers introduction to organic farming and farm entrepreneurship, composting and soil management techniques, organic farm design and technologies, crop production strategies, pest management, post-harvest handling, advanced farm entrepreneurship, and organic certification systems. Trainers included organic farming advocate-practitioners from the BSU and organic farmers’ groups, such as the La Trinidad Organic Producers, Benguet Net and the Cordillera Organic Agriculture Development Council. After completing the course, Copas embarked on a 2,000-square-meter farm in Natubleng, Buguias, where he plans to produce organically grown lettuce and other vegetables. Copas’ family spent P2 million to build two 1,000-square meter greenhouses. If he succeeds, Copas hopes his farm would help wean other farmers in Buguias from chemical farming. The use of excessive chemicals and monocropping, or the practice of growing only one crop all year round, has reportedly caused new diseases such as club root (a fungal disease in the roots of cabbage), bacterial wilt (another disease in cabbage and other leafy vegetables), and pest resistance to even the most potent pesticide. Quick fixes Ever since it became a multimillion-peso venture, the vegetable industry in Benguet and nearby Mt. Province has been caught in a “circle of poison,” where farmers spray pesticides or fungicides for every plant pest or disease. But by resorting to poison, the farmers lost friendly animals and insects that prey on pests. A study by the University of the Philippines at Los Baños in the 1980s found that frogs, which prey on insects, no longer existed in the rivers and springs of Buguias as these have become contaminated with pesticides. In the 1980s and 1990s, Dr. Charles Cheng of the Baguio Filipino-Chinese General Hospital, and researcher Katherine Bersamira studied the health and environment hazards of pesticides in the vegetable district in Benguet. Their conclusion: The volume of pesticides and fungicides poured into Benguet’s vegetable pot in a year, if used in a biological warfare, is enough to kill the total population of the country. In their 152-page study, Cheng and Bersamira said that in 1992, Benguet vegetable farmers used 124,933 liters of pesticides, 158,384 kilograms of fungicides, and 216,000 bags of chemical fertilizers, with a total value of P165,118,789. Health problems They also noted pesticide-related health problems of farmers, such as itchy skin, dry lips, watery and itchy red eyes that last for days, abdominal and chest pains, muscle cramps, appetite loss, dizziness, nose bleeding and irregular and discolored nails. Local and agriculture officials then sought to downplay the researchers’ findings, fearing that these would damage the vegetable industry. Fearing an adverse implication on their profits, agrochemical firms launched information campaigns, telling farmers about the judicious use of pesticides and saying that the reported health hazards of pesticide were due to improper handling. Despite the reported education drives in recent years on the proper use of pesticides and on what agriculture technicians call “integrated pest management,” the volume of pesticides and other chemicals flowing into Benguet’s vegetable district has remained high. Citing a study, Prof. Jose Balaoing, who heads the BSU’s soil science department, says 120,000 liters of pesticides and 154,000 kg of fungicides were used in Benguet’s vegetable farms in 2007. He says 500 to 600 kg of chemical fertilizers have been used in every hectare of farm. This volume, he says, is an overdose because 240 kg are enough for a hectare. Voice in the wilderness Aware of the health and environmental hazards of chemical farming, Balaoing in 1990 asked BSU officials to support him in launching an organic farming program. “But at that time I was told there was no future in organic farming,” he says, recalling that his advocacy was practically a voice in the wilderness. Despite the unpopularity of organic farming even within BSU in the 1990s, he persisted. But though his advocacy was not readily embraced in his own university then, Balaoing has been invited to train farmers in other provinces such as Camarines Sur and Cotabato, which saw promise in organic farming. He was thus glad that the BSU finally launched its new certificate course in practical organic farming 18 years after he proposed it. “This course is actually overdue,” he says.

Only good citizenship can save Baguio from decay

Inquirer Northern Luzon
Only good citizenship can save Baguio from decay

By Maurice Malanes
Philippine Daily Inquirer
First Posted 01:01:00 06/18/2008

BAGUIO CITY – Practically the whole of Baguio City used to be his playground. He and other teenage children would climb the thickly forested Mount Sto. Tomas, roam the pine and mossy forests of what is now Quezon Hill, and trek to the hot springs of Asin in nearby Tuba town.

They wouldn’t even bother to bring packed lunch with them because they could dig for singkamas ti bakes (wild turnips), pick berries and other wild fruits, and drink from springs or pitcher plants.

“Ten or so singkamas ti bakes (literally, monkey’s turnips) for each of us were enough for our lunch to keep us full for the rest of the day in the great outdoors,” recalls 69-year-old Carlito Cenzon.

Now the Catholic bishop of the Diocese of Baguio, Cenzon is among true-blue “Baguio boys,” who are not only nostalgic about the place that made their childhood summers whole and happy in the 1950s.

He is among a few pioneers who, after having noted how Baguio has been deteriorating over the years, now seek to rescue it from further decay. How?

Getting involved

“By being citizens,” Cenzon says. “This means participating, getting involved, not being indifferent, chipping in your talents for the good of the community, paying taxes, following rules and regulations. And if you’re in the government, making your office a public trust.”

He laments the lack of good citizenship, which, he says, can be seen in a pervasive “extractive mentality” in which many come to extract whatever they get out of Baguio, even if this means illegally building a house in a vital watershed, for example.

Cenzon agrees such mentality of extraction may have originated from an extractive industry from which Baguio was born – mining.

Baguio as an urban center emerged as a result of the boom in mining in the neighboring gold-rich towns of Benguet, an industry that American colonial soldiers-turned-gold-prospectors began on a massive scale in the early 1900s.

With its mountain climate and the promise of economic opportunities, more and more migrants have poured into Baguio in recent years. Many came and squatted on public lands, taking advantage of a city government with no updated and strict land use and zoning policies.

Cenzon cites, among other things, what is now known as Quirino Hill. During his childhood, the place used to be covered with a pine forest and called Carabao Mountain. With a slope of above 18 degrees, the hill is now one of the densely populated areas.

The bishop and the environment advocacy group, Baguio Regreening Movement, in which he is one of the officers, have since been on a mission to save the watersheds.

They have not only led concerned citizens and students in planting trees but also recommended the demolition of squatters’ houses in Busol, a vital watershed.

Despite the maze of legal bureaucratic procedures required before demolishing shanties, “our battle to save whatever is left of our watersheds continues,” he says. “The battle is ongoing even if squatters have remained despite hundreds of court orders issued against them.

According to Cenzon, many people – big and small – have been “raping Baguio for a long time,” with each one trying to extract what he can get from the city at all costs.

One of the outfits to which concerned citizens have vented their ire on is a subsidiary of a shopping mall chain. For months, officials and residents were kept in the dark regarding company plans to build another structure in a hectare of pine woodlot near the Baguio Convention Center.

Recently, an official of the firm told the city council about its plan to build condominium buildings on that lot. Because of public pressure from concerned citizens like Cenzon, most members of the council have opposed it.

Campaign

“I would lead a campaign to boycott this mall if this structure is built despite concerned citizens’ protest,” says Cenzon.

He says an official of the shopping mall had told him the company would look for an alternative site.

But apart from big-time threats, even ordinary residents are helping ruin Baguio, says the bishop. He cites those who use sidewalks for auto repair and vulcanizing shops, sari-sari (variety) stores and other business stalls, and ambulant vendors.

As one of those who conceptualized the recent “Walk Baguio Walk” drive, in which government employees and residents are encouraged to walk rather than drive to work, Cenzon admits that walking would be quite difficult with the lack of sidewalks.

When told that Marikina City was able to clear its sidewalks and succeeded in reclaiming these for the public, Cenzon says replicating that experience requires strong political will.

Good governance, strong political will and people exercising their role as citizens could rescue Baguio from further decay, he says. “But what all these require is love,” he says. “You must love Baguio first so you can have the passion and the heart to serve the interest of the community rather than your interest.”

Responsible citizenship, he says, emanates from love of one’s community or country.

How Cordillera children are deprived of education

	How Cordillera children are deprived of education
	By Maurice Malanes Philippine Daily Inquirer
	Posted date: June 11, 2008
	KIBUNGAN, Benguet – At the second crow of the rooster at daybreak, children of the sub-village of Liwen in Benguet’s upland town of Kibungan have to wake up, eat an early breakfast, and brace for an hour-long uphill climb to the nearest school at the poblacion (town center). After classes are dismissed in the afternoon, they have to rush home before it gets dark. Their ordeal – come rain, typhoon or cold season – is a fact of life not only in this Kankanaey town but elsewhere in the Cordillera. This is why Jimmy Jose, 27, a native of Sinacbat village in neighboring Bakun town, and many of his former elementary classmates had to reach at least 8 years old so they can enter Grade 1. “We had to grow older and be strong enough to be able to walk or (literally) climb our way to school,” recalls Jose, a forestry graduate, who worked his way through high school and college. “This remains the reality in our community.” “Worse, those who were too weak and those not so determined to go to school eventually would drop out and forget school altogether,” he says. Kibungan is a fifth-class municipality (annual income: P7 million-P13 million). The Department of Education aims to encourage more children, particularly 6-year-olds, to enroll in Grade 1. It has campaigned to inform parents to enroll their children after noting a low turnout of 6-year-old enrollees for Grade 1 last school year. Only more than a third or a million of the three million 6-year-old children nationwide enrolled in Grade 1 last year, says Benito Tumamao, DepEd Cordillera director. This national trend was more or less the same in the Cordillera, he says. “The difficult access of children to the nearest school where they have to walk six to seven kilometers remains a main factor [for the low turnout of Grade 1 enrollees] in our region,” says Tumamao. Ninety-five percent of the Cordillera terrain is mountainous. The only flat lands are in Tabuk City, Kalinga; Bangued, Abra; and the valley town of La Trinidad, Benguet’s capital. “So I understand how these 6-year-olds with frail bodies can hardly withstand the rigors of hiking kilometers just to reach the nearest school,” says Tumamao. The DepEd has projected over 6,000 6-year-olds in Grade 1 in the region this year or almost 3 percent of the 216,865 projected total enrollees for the elementary level. Education for all It seeks to help achieve in the country the United Nations goal to provide education for all by 2015. But Tumamao admits this goal will continue to elude the country unless policy reforms are made. An area that needs reforms is in building schools in remote communities. Since the government wants to “economize” on what it allots for teaching positions, the DepEd cannot put up schools in communities with fewer than 30 students. But the reality is that many remote communities in the Cordillera have fewer than 30 6-year-olds at a given school year. These children are thus forced to enroll in schools at the town or village centers, if they are fit enough. Tumamao is proposing a policy to establish schools even in communities with low enrollment. A teacher can be assigned to a community where even 15 children can use a barangay (village) hall as classroom, he says. Children in remote communities can also go to school at the right age if they are provided boarding schools, he says. Boarding schools would allow them to go home only on weekends to get supplies for the week. Tumamao says Cordillera lawmakers may consider these policy reforms to help them craft education-related laws. “We, educators, would be happy if our legislators would support these suggested policy reforms,” he says. For secondary education, the Cordillera recorded almost 13-percent dropout rate last school year, one of the highest in the country. Tumamao cites economic difficulties, health problems and the distance of schools among the major reasons. If the trend continues, almost 12,000 of the projected 89,640 high school enrollees this year would drop out. Fast Facts The Cordillera still lacks teachers in both public elementary and high schools. This school year, it needs 95 elementary school teachers and 37 high school teachers, according to the Department of Education. In Ifugao, 25 elementary school teachers are needed; Kalinga, 22; Benguet, 18; Mt. Province, 11; Apayao, 11; Baguio City, six; and Abra, two. Benguet needs 14 secondary school teachers while Apayao needs 11; Kalinga, five; and Mt. Province, four. Abra and Baguio City have no projected need for new teachers until 2011. Many schools still lack classrooms and armchairs or desks. For grade school, Kalinga needs 99 classrooms; Benguet, 64; Abra, 36; Baguio, 23; Mt. Province, 19; Ifugao, 18; and Apayao, 14. For high school, Kalinga needs 73 classrooms; Mt. Province, 50; Baguio, 48; Benguet, 40; Apayao, 36; and Abra, 27. Elementary schools in Benguet need 5,836 armchairs or desks. Kalinga needs 4,468 desks; Apayao, 1,990; Baguio, 1,396; Mt. Province, 1,360; Ifugao, 729; and Abra, 622.

A century of Cordillera vegetable salad

A century of Cordillera vegetable salad

Source: Inquirer Author: Maurice Malanes Date: 2001-01-10

BENGUET – The cold winds bite, like frozen needles pricking the bones. But why did the mountain folk come to Atok, Benguet, and called it their home?



Any day of this balmy season, from noon to late evening, thick fog hugs the environs of Atok’s Barangay Paoay (pop: 3,552), some 50 kilometers north of Baguio City.



Trekking along the winding road from Sitio Sayangan along the Halsema Highway to Paoay’s plateau (7,500 foot above sea level) is like going up a stairway to a cloud-blanketed heaven.



The hardy Kankanaey and Ibaloi folk came to Atok not just because the place was near heaven. Suited to growing tropical vegetables, the once thickly forested area promised abundance.



Ever since a former soldier of the American colonial government at the turn of the 20th century set foot in Atok, Barangay Paoay through the years has been transformed into what it is today--a salad bowl.



Some migrant Chinese, who were among those the Americans recruited to help build Kennon Road from 1902 to 1911, followed suit and introduced intensive vegetable farming.



Once mere hired hands of vegetable plantation owners, the Kankanaey and Ibaloi folk learned to grow vegetables and turned Paoay and the other six neighboring barangays of Atok (pop: 16,000) into a vegetable district.



The vegetable industry soon spread to the neighboring towns of Buguias and Kibungan (particularly Barangay Madaymen), both in Benguet, and some towns of Mt. Province. Now considered a ``vegetable belt,’’ these areas supply 80 percent of the country’s tropical vegetables.



Century-old



The Cordillera’s multimillion-peso vegetable industry is almost a century old. And in a country, which loves and honors anything American, the upland folk must be historically sentimental toward Paoay as they are toward Camp John Hay and Kennon.



In the early 1900s, a certain Guy Haight came and fell in love with what he saw atop a plateau-–grassland surrounded by mossy and pine forests.



A member of the US Army’s engineering corps, Haight was among the American soldiers and officials who colonized the Philippines after the Filipinos defeated the Spaniards in 1898.



Contracting lung disease (probably an early stage of tuberculosis) after helping supervise the building of Kennon, Manila’s main link to Baguio, Haight was advised by a doctor to look for a place as cold as his Philadelphia hometown.



Unlike other former American soldiers who explored the Cordillera for its fabled gold mines, Haight settled in what is now Paoay and became a farmer. He married an Igorot lass from Suyoc in Mankayan town, also in Benguet, and built a grass-thatched house and log cabins on the grassland, the best part of the dominantly mountain village.



Some photographs of the houses and of Haight’s family now hang at the living room of the house of former Atok Mayor John Haight, now 71, a grandson of Haight.



The elder Haight ordered vegetable seeds from his parents in Philadelphia, and, with the help of Igorot laborers, he grew cabbage, turnip, rhubarb, lettuce, sugar beet, carrot, celery, parsley and potato. He also grew oats and rye, whose stalks and leaves were fed to cows, horses, pigs, carabaos and other livestock.



Haight’s almost 30-hectare farm and house were an ideal organic farm. The soil was virgin and fertile then.



Thus, there was no need for chemical fertilizers. But later, Haight used compost in his farm that consisted of decayed weeds and livestock manure.



Haight’s produce was marketed to Baguio. His clients were fellow Americans, many of them colonial officials on vacation at Camp John Hay, and Filipinos who learned to eat cabbages and other newly introduced tropical vegetables.



With no road link to Atok, Haight had to hire porters and had to mobilize his horses to transport on foot the vegetables to Baguio. Each porter had to carry an average of 30 kilos, says Celo Haight-Tan, now 82, whose late father Selo, a.k.a. Toki Lawangen, was recruited by Haight as ``tent boy.’’



Celo, a native of Kapangan, Benguet, was barely 12 years old when he was hired. The boy was rendering labor during the construction of Kennon as payment for community tax. Celo soon assumed the family name of his American master.



Celo and his family also spoke American English. ``We came to learn our language only when we went to school in Kabayan (a neighboring town),’’ recalls Haight-Tan, the fourth of the late Celo’s 10 children.



The old Haight died in 1926. But planting tropical vegetables, which he introduced, continued.



Enter the Chinese



After the construction of Kennon in 1911 and of the American military barracks and buildings in Baguio, which Chinese migrant workers helped build, the remaining Chinese laborers saw new opportunities.



They surveyed La Trinidad Valley and other areas in Benguet, which included Paoay and other villages in Atok, and found these areas promising for agriculture.



In Paoay, the Chinese introduced intensive farming and new varieties of cabbage, such as pechay and wombok, aside from head cabbage, celery, carrot, broccoli, lettuce and potato.



With intensive farming, the Chinese had to use chicken dung mixed with ashes, chemical fertilizers and pesticides, recalls Paoay barangay chair Dewey Tomas, a former child laborer in a Chinese farm in the 1950s.



But the Chinese were also basically organic farmers, according to Baguio-based Dr. Charles Cheng and Katherine Bersamira in their 1997 book ``The Ethnic Chinese in the Cordillera: The Untold Story of Pioneers.’’



The Chinese also introduced composting, recycling of organic matter, crop rotation, using insect predators to control pests, and some irrigation techniques, say Dr. Cheng and Bersamira.

Clan reunions replace'cañao' tradition in Benguet

Reprint

Clan reunions replace

'cañao' tradition in Benguet

by Maurice Malanes, Philippine Daily Inquirer, 9 May 2000

TIME was when the mountains of Kibungan town in Benguet

would echo the beats and rhythm of gongs and solibaos (native

drums) and the cries of pigs and carabaos being slaughtered

and offered to the gods and spirits during traditional feasts

called cañao or pedit.

Abundant farm harvest and good swine and cattle production

would be enough reasons to hold the cañao.

In these feasts, members of the community would gather in the

home of the host family to dine and wine, to dance the sadong

(usually performed by girls and women) and the tayaw (usually

done by men), and to sing the day-eng (an extemporaneous

chanted poetry).

For the host family, the cañao was a way of sharing with the

rest of the community blessings the gods and spirits bestowed

or what may be considered the family's surplus. The cañao or

pedit is thus a thanksgiving feast.

In thanking the heavens, a traditional priest would pray: ''O

gods and spirits of the heavens, bless members of this family

(referring to the cañao's host family). Let their cattle and

livestock become more productive. Let their rice, peas, grains,

camote (sweet potato) and other crops bear good harvest. Spare

this family from ailments and bless the family members with

long, healthy lives. O gods and spirits, we are asking all these

so that tomorrow or one of these days, we can again celebrate

your blessings for this family and have the chance again to

honor you and pay our respects.''

As a community affair, the cañao or pedit had also served a

social purpose. Through this affair, each member of the

community, in the spirit of bin-nadang or cooperation, would

help out in all activities.

The whole community would gather firewood, pound rice, fetch

water, slaughter animals and cook, and would participate in

religious rituals, such as dancing the sadong and the tayaw,

playing the gongs and drums, and joining in the religious

chants. In the early days, the cañao had thus helped strengthen

community spirit and unity.

Also through the cañao, families and clans were able to trace

their blood lineage and family tree.

Vanishing tradition

But in Benguet towns, such as in Kibungan, which used to hold

traditional feasts at least twice or thrice a month until three to

four decades ago, the cañao is now slowly vanishing.

The reasons are both economic and cultural. In Kibungan now,

there just are not enough animals to butcher, unlike in the early

days when, as Lakay (old man) Paguli recalls, there were more

animals than people.

The mountain town, which is 67 kilometers northeast of Baguio

City, also used to be self-sufficient in staples such as rice and

camote.

These days, however, Kibungan folk have to buy their rice from

Baguio because of a growing population and the lack of

government support services, such as small irrigation systems,

to improve farm production.

Populated by about 16,000 Kankana-ey folk, Kibungan has also

been saturated by various Christian sects, some of which

preach that the cañao tradition is ''unchristian,'' if not ''the work

of the devil.''

But as more and more Kibungan folk are turning their backs on

the cañao tradition, more and more are also looking for ways to

restrengthen community spirit and family and clan ties. Clan

reunions have thus emerged in recent years.

Tracing ancestry

Like the cañao, clan reunions enable members to get to know

one another better by tracing common ancestors.

Unlike the cañao, however, each family head of the clan

contributes to the cost of holding a reunion.

In the recent grand reunion of the Gelwan-Dangsuyan clan, one

of the biggest in Kibungan, for example, each family head

chipped in P150 mainly to cover the cost of lunch and dinner.

Each one of the over 500 clan members gathered was excited

and happy about the grand reunion held in the home of Ganaya

Bay-an Bolislis, the only surviving elder of the Tamang

sub-clan.

But the grand affair apparently lacks the festive mood of the

cañao of yore. The affair was rather formal, complete with a

program of activities, during which all sub-clans were presented

on a stage installed with a sound system.

There was a spice, however, to all the formalities: each sub-clan

presented ice breakers, such as country and folk songs and

children's dances, which integrated traditional dance steps.

Folk singing

And the singers, mostly young men and women, were good at

aping the late John Denver, Kenny Rogers, Joan Baez and other

American country and folk singers.

Some elders did not want to be outdone. Gaerlan Wance and

Celino Cayad-an, both World War II veterans, sang songs they

learned from their American senior officers in the last war.

That American country and folk songs are tops in Kibungan

and other Benguet towns is an interesting subject for

sociocultural research. But that's another story.

What is clear is that cultural practices accompanying the cañao

tradition are now on the way out.

The mambunong (a traditional priest), who leads the religious

rituals in a cañao, no longer has a place in a clan reunion. In the

recent Gelwan-Dangsuyan grand reunion, for example, a young

Pentecostal pastor, who married a woman of the clan, led

members in a praise and worship rite.

Guitars and sound systems have replaced the beats of gongs

and drums. Hawaiian dances performed to the tune of ''Pearly

Shells'' and ''Tiny Bubbles'' and other dances, such as one

played to some weird beat called ''Dayang-Dayang'' have

replaced the traditional sadong and tayaw.

Hardly heard now is the day-eng, an extemporaneous poetry

that is sung by elders as they pass around a common cup of

tapuy or rice wine.

This poetry is also a form of discourse because one leads and

opens up a topic, and another responds by agreeing or

disagreeing through metaphors and lots of folk wisdom-laden

philosophical thoughts.

Cultural artifacts, such as traditional dresses and heirlooms, can

be preserved in museums. Not so with a cultural heritage such

as the day-eng, which has to be continually practiced for it to

continue to breathe life.