THE new city ordinance banning chewing betel nut quid has stimulated the resurgence and telling of “Kiangan jokes.” There is no better way to forget and escape the boring atmosphere of home self-quarantine but re-live those funny and entertaining jokes among family members and friends.
Kiangan jokes are raillery banters or good-humorous teasing. And the butt of ridicule is normally a personality from Kiangan.
Kiangan is the ancient town in Ifugao province, a paradise in folklore where the local version of the biblical creation of humans took place, lived and enjoyed the blessings of their creator.
Until recent years, anyone from the 11 towns of Ifugao is popularly identified as “Kiangan.” It’s like the present young generation in the Cordillera proudly identifying themselves as residents of Baguio City when living or working abroad.
Ifugaos have the penchant of unknowingly making funny comments that would tickle the bones of other Cordillera tribesmen, lowlanders or the kulityagangs as they are called. Thus, he has become the butt of jokes among them in Baguio City. Ifugaos aka Kiangans is also known for their addiction to chewing betel nut.
Not all jokes are original from and by “Kiangans.” There are other cases involving other tribes or Tagalogs, Ilocanos, Pangasinenses, Visayans, and Muslims, but it seems they are but tasteless jokes and lack the funny elements. Attribute these to a “Kiangan” and likely loud laughter and guffaws shall ring to one’s heart’s content especially when belting a bottle or two of SM gin.
Having heard and re-told similar jokes myself, I want to believe that “Kiangan jokes” were bared, exposed and recognized in the city of Baguio. Narrating such jokes elsewhere does not seem funny to the non-Baguio nor Cordillera audience.
Let’s take a discovery by the late Baguio newsman Peppot Ilagan who saw signage in a restaurant comfort room in Lagawe, Ifugao. It read: “Toilet for boys & girls, but NOT together.” He pointed this out to the late newsman Ramon Dacawi, who found his roots in Hapao, Ifugao, during a media group trip to the famous rice terraces in Banaue.
Dacawi inclines a wispy smile whenever he recalled the signage and Peppot Ilagan that he wrote about it as a tribute to the humor of his province mates.
Ifugaos normally take the pain to hear such jokes and consider them as racists. Some feel their intelligence is indirectly disparaged and injure the reputation of their tribe.
We have heard of brawls involving Ifugaos with others who mischievously narrate “Kiangan jokes” with spite and malice. But in recent years, Ifugaos take the jokes pleasantly as they enjoy retelling such and laugh about them.
One element of narrating “Kiangan jokes” to make them funny and laughable is an imitation of the Ifugao pronunciation and intonation. Perhaps chewing betel nut quid toughens their tongues that pronouncing the letter L is twirled into letter R and the way around.
Yet despite this expressive standing, the Ifugao is eloquent, loves to orate and argue his opinions in any forum. A look at Facebook groups among peoples in the region would show that Ifugaos has more membership numbers and discussion activities than others.
Turn back to the days of the Cordillera Regional Consultative Commission (CRCC) where talents from the seven local government units were tasked to draft the Organic Act for the creation of an autonomous region. Delegates from Ifugao awed their counterparts with humorous arguments whenever they stood and presented their respective thesis.
There are several jokes, decades’ old scenarios, involving city policemen who enjoy arresting “Kiangans” for minor misdemeanors. Among the more popular ones that refuse to fade are:
“Edi nagtupra-ak awan ka. Edi nagdis-su diay tupra’k ada ka” is about an Ifugao chewing his betel nut sitting by the window of a Dangwa bus bound for Kiangan. When he spewed out a quid, it landed on the shoes of a policeman.
Along Session Road, a pot-bellied policeman was difficultly puffing as he raced after an Ifugao for violating the “Do Not Cross” sign. The athletic build Ifugao ran as fast as he could to the pedestrian lane and shouted: “SAVE” as he stumped his foot on the white giraffe lines for comfort, and escape arrest.
Another one tells of an Ifugao pulling a rope around the neck of the stout hog he bought at the Slaughter House and was on his way up along Magsaysay Avenue to the Dangwa Station. A policeman harshly accosted him and pointed out a violation of a city ordinance; that he must serve prison detention while the case is decided by the city fiscal’s office or the courts.
The Ifugao, in all innocence of an infraction of law and order, meekly accepted his faith and told the policeman to personally take care and feed his hog while he would be serving time in prison.
At Burnham Park, an Ifugao was determined to put a good one over the police whom his tribe has considered a tribal adversary.
He was leisurely squatting in the green grass grounds, chewing his betel nut, with his right hand over a medium-sized brown paper bag when the policeman came by and questioned what he was hiding. Feigning fear of arrest, he told the policemen that his friend went to buy a line to string a big beautiful bird under the paper bag.
But the rough and bully police officer threatened arrest and told him to run off. The Ifugao hastily left with a smirk on his face. What do you think was under the brown paper bag? Not a big bird but a chunk of bile pigments of animal feces that the policeman himself snatched.
There are new humorous episodes by the present generations of Ifugaos. One among them is a comment by a young college student on priests’ invitation for the renewal of marriage vows among his parishioners. He asked: “Why? Did their marriage vows EXPIRE?”