Wednesday, September 06, 2006
A weekend with Aetas
By Miguel Antonio N. Lizada
Kuya's Chair
(Part one)
THERE are certain experiences in one's life where the way he looks at the world is changed forever, for the better. I never knew how much two and a half days could change me.
Before graduating in March, a senior of the Ateneo de Manila University must complete a set of final requirements. One of these is undergoing an immersion.
He or she has to spend a weekend living with people from certain (marginalized) sectors in society. Some groups were assigned to live with the urban poor; some visited the fisher folk while the others spend the weekend helping the farmers plant rice. There were also groups who spend the weekend in homes for raped children and overseas Filipino workers. Our group however was assigned to live with indigenous people, the Aetas in Tarlac.
When we were briefed days before our immersion, Ate Dudj, our formator, gave us an overview of the life there. First, the Aetas are mountain people. In other words, we had to climb a mountain to get to the area. Second, there is no electricity. Third, we would have to sleep on the floor, etc.
Getting there
Early Friday morning, 4:30 a.m. actually, we took a bus from Cubao to Cappas, Tarlac. After dropping us off, we were supposed to ride a jeep that would take us to the area. Before that however, we had breakfast at, of all places, McDonalds. Ate Dudj told us to eat heartily because for the next few days, we will be eating vegetables and probably fish only. After a hearty last "city meal" of McDo longganisa, egg and hash brown, we boarded the jeep that brought us to the area.
A 30-minute ride or so later, we stopped in front of the lahar zone. You see, we were near Mount Pinatubo and this was the area where heavy lahar used to flow. The view was surreal. On our right and left side were mountains full of trees. But in between those mountains there was no life at all. There were just gray sand, a few weeds and small occasional rivers flowing from all directions.
I asked where exactly the immersion area is. Ate Dudj said it was still in the next mountain. I asked how we were going to get there. She pointed to a smaller jeep with a cart attached behind it. Apparently we would have to ride the jeep across the lahar zone. Since we couldn't all fit, the girls were asked to sit inside the jeep but as luck would put it, the guys would have to ride the cart with our bags.
Traveling across the rocky, muddy and wet lahar zone was an adventure in itself. There were times when the path was so uneven that we were almost thrown off the cart. Also, we had to cross some small rivers; since the jeep was traveling at a moderately fast speed the water would splash all around us.
While we were enjoying our pseudo-roller coaster ride, we caught a glimpse of the people we were about to visit: a few A few Aetas were walking on the ground with their carabao. Ate Dudj told us that we were lucky. Riding the jeep, we would reach our immersion in 30 or so minutes. These Aetas on the other hand would take around 3 hours to reach the same area. I was amazed. Already, I was uncomfortable by the sweltering heat and annoyed by the lahar mud dirtying my shirt but here we have the Aetas who endure both heat and mud, walking often barefoot for three hours just to go the bayan.
Mountain climbing
We finally stopped at the foot of a small mountain. Way above, we could see a group of Aetas waving at us. As we unloaded our bags off the cart, an old Aeta came up to us and offered to carry the sack of rice we bought for the community.
Ate Dudj then told us that it is time to start climbing the mountain. I was both nervous and excited. Since I was a lazy Boy scout in Grade School, I never had a "real hike" before.
At first, I did not have a difficult time. It seemed like I was just going up a flight of stairs without steps. However, as we got higher, the slope became steeper to the point that I had to go on all fours to continue. There was even a point where I was near a deep ravine. It should help to know right now that I am actually afraid of heights so imagine my fear as I stared down at the fifty- or sixty-foot ravine.
As I climbed (or crawled) nearer the top, I started to hear the laughter of children. Apparently, the Aeta kids have been watching us from the start of our climb and probably laughed at the way we found it so difficult to climb their mountain.
I finally reached a little rusty gate. Climbing further, I caught a glimpse of several nipa huts. I heard the clucking of chickens, the barks of dogs, the squeals of pigs, and finally the laughter of little curly-haired children around us. After a two-hour bus ride, a thirty-minute jeepney ride, another thirty-minute adventure in the lahar zone and a most exhausting and scary climb, we finally reached the Aetas' home.
Next week will be Part two (Day One) where I meet the community and my foster family and learn the definition of onat (Tagapatag) and Aeta (tagabundok) and the sad and discriminatory implications these terms have.
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