Pasundayag

Wow! Beautiful! Fantastic!

I would say it's wonderful! Or, as my Boholano friends would say, pwerti!

Indeed, the Pasundayag 2009, literally meaning show, was grander and far more sensible and worth attending than the ones going on in the senate these past few weeks. It was definitely more than a show by any standard. It was an experience that even experienced showgoers in the capital should not miss, or should have not missed as it was the closest thing to the real Bukidnon deal, at least for a Bukidnon like me. People, products, culture, life, art, traditions, beauties and charms (and babes, too). Name it, you'll definitely find it there.

Dick Gordon, the senator, was right in coming and standing grand on stage at the Pasundayag than grandstanding on the senate floor. He was right in not joining Sen. Bobong Revilla in his stupid and idiotic appraisal of events, actuations, and disruptions by so-called victims, perpetrators, and spectators, most notably Abner Afuang with whom Sen. Bobong suspected to be Hidden Hayden's cohort. Gordon, after all, was the prime mover of the Department of Tourism's WOW PHILIPPINES (the opposite of which is, well, YUCKY SENATE!). Of course, Gordon remains to be the public face of WOW PHILIPPINES what with all those paper fans, pamphlets, brochures, streamers, etc., bearing the familiar round basketball-like face of this erstwhile Mayor of Olongapo, SBMA Chair and, as his pep squad would claim triumphantly, "the Savior of Subic and Olongapo" (bless us, small Dick, amen). 

My friend James Fajarito, Letran's Language and Linguistics department chair, joined me at the Pasundayag even if he was nursing a bad cold. It was nothing to fear, he assured me, because it was not the dreaded AH1N1.

I was at the Clamshell 1, the venue of Pasundayag 2009, a couple of minutes before 4:00 pm, the start of the show but had to while some time because Gordon was nowhere in sight yet. There's nothing new about VIPs coming to events fashionably late. After all, he was to cut the ceremonial ribbon formally opening the exhibit. Not wasting my time waiting for the opening, I surveyed and took some photos of the different booths representing the unique products of Northern Mindanao, specifically Region 10, the region where I come from.

Region 10 is comprised of the following provinces: Bukidnon, Misamis Oriental and Misamis Occidental, Lanao del Norte, and Camiguin. A few years back, the region included Agusan del Norte and Agusan del Sur, minus Lanao del Norte and Camiguin was subprovince of Misamis Oriental. But bad politics, no, bad politicians, have their way of arranging, nay, tampering with geography. So, in honor of the bad politicians responsible for such tampering, let's just call it bad geography or, well, bad geopolitics.

While the addition of Lanao del Norte may not be correct (geo)politically, it offers some refreshment to the cultural landscape of the region. The infusion of Maranao traditions--at least a good serving of it--is certainly a welcome formula towards adding more color to the already vibrant culture of the region, sans the violent past that Lanao and a tiny speck of its population have come to be associated with, thanks to media's self-serving interest and huge appetite of blowing things grossly out of proportion.

Now back to Pasundayag, which this post is all about. After about an hour, I covered the whole of Clamshell 1, having chatted with Bukdinon vendors and some tribesmen belonging to either of the seven tribal groups that originally inhabit the Bukidnon plains and the uplands: the Bukidnons, the Matigsalugs, the Tigwahanons, the Umayamnons, the Talaandigs, the Higaonons, and the Manobos. (I'll spare you the punishing discussion on these seven tribes. I can discuss these tribes in some future post.) 

I normally arrive at an event before it starts because being an early bird gives me the opportunity to meet with key people of such event, i.e. organizers, funders, resource persons, leaders, etc. I have an open (attention Hidden Hayden) agenda/idea of coming up with a coffee table book on everything Bukidnon, inspired as I am with the relative publishing (marketing, I don't know) success of the book I did on coconut. No, I have been nursing this idea long before the coconut book project landed on my computer table. At the moment, I only have the proposed cover of the book, and I have yet to draft the foreword and introduction before I can parade around my bare coffee table book plan. Momentarily, I had to forget my open agenda.

Gordon finally arrived, was led to the ceremonial entrance, accorded welcome ritual of good luck and cheers (for the long shot at Malacanang in 2010, who knows?), and then finally ushered to the front row VIP section. I had earlier parked my butt in a row for guests (yes, I'm a guest, minus the invitation, but I had to sign up the official logbook, he he) right behind the congressmen's (from Northern Mindanao, I suppose) row but had to yield it to curiosity that earlier had me scouring the food and dry goods booths and check their offering. 

When the show started at 5:00 o'clock, James and I were did not notice the passing of another two hours as we were glued to the awesome performances of the Impasug-ong Cultural Performers, the Bukidnon State University (formerly BUSCO, or Bukidnon State College), and several other groups representing various tribes in Northern Mindanao. I only knew it was supposedly dinner time when the hosts announced the break for some cocktails. Of course, we piled up for the long queue but we were not lucky this time. The caterer run out of plates, reducing us hungry mortals to mere witnesses in the gradual disappearance of cocktails on giant tables, including the delectable lechon from Cagayan de Oro, one of the best tasting this side of the planet. And there were not just one but two of these pigs (lechon). Whoooaaa! But God never abandoned the hopefuls as we managed a few slices of tuna sandwich and barbedogs (barbeque hotdogs). We had to comfort ourselves with the thought that what we came here for was not the food but culture! O, di ba? Ha ha ha!

Past cocktails, the show had just actually started. More talents, charms, and skills from the different groups, notably those from Bukidnon, were displayed to our delight. It was James' introduction (and mine a refresher) to Bukidnon culture and beauty (as in the lovely babes who were resplendent and equally beguiling in their colorful ethnic head gears and dress. 

The mostly-thematic numbers were both a retelling of the unique, rich cultural heritage of the region that lends it its identity in the face of changes and challenges that swept the entire cultural landscape of the archipelago, beginning with the Spanish intrusion and the continuing Westernization in the country and the rest of the world. To say that the performances were very educational would be an understatement. It did not only inform us of the many ways of using/wearing the malong in a rather fashionable manner as displayed by the Kagay-an dancers from Cagayan de Oro; it tells us to help promote the industry. The Impasug-ong cowboys and cowgirls did not just delight us with their witty cowboy number; they instruct us to revive the once dominant cattle industry in Bukidnon. The Talaandings who did breathtaking stunts on ultra-long bamboo sticks were asking not only loud applause from the audience; they want their land back that Bukidnon settlers and lowlanders took away from them in exchange of promises written in the air and a few gantas of salt.

The six hours I spent at Pasundayag 2009 was worth every minute, every second. For one, it reaffirms my love for that "far away Bukidnon land." It made me prouder that I was born, raised, educated, politicized (for the best), first fell in love, frustrated and almost gave up, moved on, and fought for my principles in Bukidnon. There's no place like Bukidnon My Home. How I wish I can sing here the song that keeps the moist in my eyes whenever I see something that reminds me of home. But here's the lyrics:

Wherever I may roam

the distant land to see

I long to go back soon

to sweet Bukidnon home

Her lovely mountains high

her forests old and grand

bring memories to me

the home I long to see.

There my heart, yearns to be

in far away Bukidnon land

Under its blue starry skies

where love and joy never die.

There is a Binukid (Bukidnon) version of this anthem but I couldn't sing it. Well, I leave to my Bukidnon brothers. Yet the message, the emotion, the passion, the conviction, the hopes and aspirations of a great people we are whenever we sing this remain pretty much the same.