Tuesday, October 23, 2007 Malilong: Teniente del barrio By Frank Malilong The Other Side
FOR at least three days last week, I woke up to the sound of drums. Initially, I found that odd because the drums in the neighborhood usually beat in May, in the days leading up to, and during, the fiesta. I would later learn that the playing of the instruments out-of-season had something to do with next Monday’s barangay elections. It seems that when it comes to winning, candidates for barangay posts are just like any other: they won’t miss a beat, if you will please pardon the pun.
I was raised in the days of the teniente del barrio. He was a respected man in the community. When he called a meeting, all able-bodied men in the barrio showed up. He mediated conflicts, always to the satisfaction of both parties.
People so trusted his wisdom that they sought his advice on almost anything, including when to build a house and where. When a man wanted to marry a lass in the barrio, it was the teniente who would accompany the would-be groom and his parents and act as their negotiator/spokesman.
The negotiations could prove to be difficult especially when the girl’s parents insist on a “bugay” (dowry) that the man’s parents could not afford. Almost always, however, the barrio chief’s patience and negotiating skills would carry the day with the parties agreeing on the exact number of carabaos, the total area of land and the brand of transistor radio set that the groom had to pay in exchange for the bride’s hand.
The funny thing was that I don’t think the teniente del barrio was elected at all. My memory is that of uncles and their cousins sitting as barrio head in succession but I don’t remember them having been voted upon. Maybe, there was but nobody made a fuss about it.
They have promoted the teniente to capitan, and it’s no longer a barrio that they’re running but a barangay. In addition, the captains now have offices and receive monthly salaries. They are now an LGU (local government unit) that is entitled to an IRA (internal revenue allotment), which allows them to travel every now and then on lakbay-aral. Needless to say, these terms were alien to the poor teniente in my time.
The teniente of my youth and today’s capitan perform essentially the same functions. If a comparison is made —which is inevitable—it is easy to see who did better.
Sometimes I wonder how it would have been if we hadn’t made all the changes that we had: promotion of the lieutenant to captain, renaming the barrio to barangay and, most of all, paying salaries to all barangay officials.
And then I remember the drums being played out of season and how I missed them when they were silenced since last Saturday.
