Foreword
In this piece, we want to make a dramatic story out of a ritual. We want the voice of the talainged (indigenous) women to be heard in Mindanao and in Philippine theatre. As a vignette that is enlivened by music and dance, this piece aims at a primary theatrical function – to create an impact on the audience.
The story is a moving testament to the continuing struggle of the women of the indigenous peoples, who are generally forgotten by society.
The narrative carries the stories of three women – a 14-year old Manobo girl, a young Bagobo mother, and an old Mandaya shaman. All three lament the plight of the indigenous peoples who have lost their right to the God-given wealth of the land. Strangers to each one, the three find themselves together after having been driven from their homes. The culprits are the logging concessionaires, ranchers and soldiers. Narrating their stories, the women are drowned in mystification and mistrust. But trust it is that is forged among them in a climax of a powerful tribal dance, signifying their collective unity to define the future of their people.
UGPAANAN (Sanctuary)
By
Marili Fernandez and Theresa Opaon
Characters:
APO DYAMON - a 70-year old Mandaya shaman
FELISA - a 45-year old Bisaya-assimilated Bagobo mother
IGAY - a 14-year old Manobo girl
Prologue:
In different spaces and times, the three characters present themselves. In one corner, APO DYAMON does a rain dance ritual. She places the food offering on the bamboo, faces the full moon, and starts to dance at her own beating of the drum.
APO DYAMON
Ay, spirits! Spirits! Rain, let it rain! Water! Water! For summer’s heat! Water, water – to quench our thirst!
As she dances and beats the drum, night slowly turns to dawn. Dyamon’s chanting fades, and the lights fade in on another corner where Felisa folds clothes and diapers. She talks to her husband. She expects to give birth any time.
FELISA
Are you leaving? (Pauses from business.) And when may I expect you to be back? Am I to give birth without you…? Sus, Merto, when can we ever live in peace…? All right, go. Take care. (Follows Merto with her gaze; then she hears her brother talking.) What, brother? They issued you a rifle...? Haven’t I told you not to join the CAFGU (Civilian Armed Force Geographical Unit) because they’d just make you guard the ranch? It’s so risky…! Why don’t you believe me? Yes, they disguise themselves… Security guard or CAFGU, they’re no different. (Looks up and finds out that her brother is no longer there.) Udo! Udo! (Runs afer him!) Give them back their rifle! Give it back! (Pauses and feels the pain.) Ouch! The pain… Udo….
As she shouts, lights fade in on another corner and the sound of bombing is heard. Igay, her arms covered with tatoos, hides herself and looks out if she’s left alone.
IGAY
Father… (Sees her father’s bolo.) Father… (Tries to cross to get her mother’s necklace.) Mother… (Slowly fades in sound of chopper. She runs in fear as the lights fade out.)
In a flood-ravaged tribal village, Apo Dyamon enters and tries to pick up a root crop left by the flood.
APO DYAMON
Ay! What luck that the flood has left this behind. (She reaches for the ground and digs to plant; she chants.) “Behold the land. Behold the countless lives, people created. This is the land, our forebears say, where dwells Mebuyan.”
Felisa, carrying her baby and a transistor radio, enters, looking for her brother.
FELISA
Udo! Udo! Sus, Lord! Where goes my brother? (Notices the old shaman, approaches her, then sits atop a rock.) Good afternoon! Apo, has anyone with a rifle crossed here? He’s my young brother. He needs to return the rifle which does not belong to him because… (About to nurse her baby but…) Inday! Ouch! Why does my baby feel like burning? (Hysterically approaches the old shaman.) Apo! Apo, my baby!
Apo Dyamon is about to help her but Felisa runs in panic.
FELISA
Help! My baby!
As Felisa runs away, Igay comes running, too, and shouting. She looks for a refuge. Apo Dyamon is silent in one corner. Twilight comes and a blurred moon appears. She takes hold of a corncob and hangs it to offer to the spirits. Then she lights a bright torch.
APO DYAMON
Aaah! Now she has put her trust in Bisaya medicine. Since those lowlanders came, calamities have started visiting upon us.
In the ritual for the sick, she takes hold of dried anahaw leaves and dances to drive away the evil spirit. Then she gets into a trance and engages her goddess in a conversation.
All throughout, Igay watches unnoticed. She moves away, fearing that she’ll be discovered. A house post falls and gives her away. She then runs to another corner, breaking off her necklace as it tangles with pieces of wood, scattering the beads. The noise awakens Apo Dyamon from her trance. She sees the girl, crouches on the ground and chews her betel nut.
APO DYAMON
Where do you come from, young lady? What’s your name? Where are your parents? (Noting the girl’s fear, she tells a story.) Aahh! This is what we must pay for what they claim is progress. Time was when we used to live in the plains. The forests were virginal, and everywhere was abundant food for all. We didn’t know about breakfasts or lunches or dinners because we ate whenever we’re hungry. The smoke didn’t cease from our kitchen. Then the Bisaya came by and asked to till the land in exchange for tobacco and the wine Kulafu. They made us withdraw to the mountains. More of the Bisaya arrived. Then the logging, the roads, salt, Vetsin, beer and Coke. We learned about the market, where to bring our produce to sell cheap. Schools were built. Our children learned to be ashamed of our race and origins. We retreated deeper into the mountains. Why not, we’d run at the slightest sound of tin cans.
Felisa enters weary and beaten from her long search.
FELISA
Udo! Udo! (Switches on her radio; Igay bumps into her.) Ahay! Goat’s ass! (Tries to look for Igay but can’t find her.)
APO DYAMON
Young lady, did you find your brother? Where is your baby?
FELISA
(Faces Apo Dyamon and stares. Then slowly, she tells her story.) I took my baby back to the house. I remember the medicine, which the government gave last year. I pounded and melted it so that my baby could take it. But then, my baby trembled. His eyes turned over, and only the white could be seen. I was rattled. I rubbed him with hot water, swabbed him with grass. Then he slept. I also did. When I woke up, it was morning. It was cold. I embraced by baby. But he was as cold as the wind… After the burial, I was told that the rebels took my brother Udo’s rifle. He fought back . . . so the warriors had to kill him. And now, I am told about the news on the radio, that soldiers have captured my husband. Hah! They won’t get him. He’s been in hiding for five years, ever since they tried to grab our land to become part of their ranch. What! Are they out of their minds? Are they crazy? Where can we plant if we allow that? That was why they accused my husband of stealing their cow – to make him a wanted man. (Laughs bitterly.) Hahaha! But now, Mount Sinaka is bald. (Remembers the news, switches on the radio.) Apo, let us listen to the news!
Apo Dyamon snatches her radio and switches it off.
APO DYAMON
(With anger.) Yes, because Mount Sinaka is bald now, they’d ravish Apo Sandawa next. They say it ‘s for the good of the people. The forests were wiped out due to logging. That’s why summer is longer now. You ask for rain, what happens? Floods and storms come. So they’d get into Apo Sandawa to generate light that does not die down. But, ayyy… (Laments.) They bring it down the lowland for their company. Ever since, nothing in the mountains has been touched and not taken away. They’d really take everything to the lowlands. (Gets her bolo ‘kafelan’ and pauses.) My husband died because of our endless flight to the mountains, just so lowlanders would have the land. Once, we had a quarrel because I no longer wanted to flee. I said, if he would go on running away, he’d be like a mad dog, tail between its legs, to be killed treacherously. Where do we run to, anyway? We’ve reached the mountaintop, where it meets the sky. What do they want… that we climb the sky?
Apo Dyamon creates a rhythm from her ‘kafelan’. Felisa joins with a drum percussion. Then Apo Dyamon dances. Felisa dances, too, merrily. At the height of the dance, Igay, becomes fascinated with the movement. But upon hearing the chopper-like percussion, Igay shouts: She is reminded of her tribe and what became of it.
IGAY
Aaayyyay kow di!
Felisa and Apo Dyamon are taken aback by Igay’s cry. They stare at each other. Igay slowly picks up her beads and starts telling her story.
IGAY
We were so happy then… I could hear Father and Mother. Our land would be bought to make roads for the mines. Father did not agree. One day after harvest, we had fun. Then they arrived, the strangers. They had guns. They were too many. I could not count them with the fingers of my hands and feet. They were looking for rebels. Father said, there are no rebels here. But they insisted that we were the rebels. They took our animals. Then they burned our houses. We panicked… A soldier caught me. He took off my clothes and burned my back with his cigarette. Then, he pulled down his pants but Mother hacked him with a bolo. Then Mother shouted for me to run. I ran and ran. The following day, I returned. I saw them… my father and mother… Ayyaya kow!
Moved by the girl’s passion, Apo Dyamon hugs Igay and joins her cry with a chant. As Felisa plays a deafening percussion piece, Apo Dyamon, realizing a newfound energy among them in that transcendental moment, dances the rhythm, holding the dried anahaw leaves. Igay feels a healing process by the sound of the drum and the chant, and begins to dance with her hankies. Noticing Igay’s reaction, Apo Dyamon gives her the ‘kafelan’ and Igay dances with it. Felisa takes the leaves while Apo Dyamon dances with the drum. Glowing with so much passion and trust, discovering each other’s strength, the three draw power from one another. Wanting to defend their tribes to the end, the moment comes for these women to unite in a singular intent: Continue their people’s struggle!
Gently, night gives way to dawn.
THE END
