A Familiar Rural Image: Sitio Calomintao

The path that I had taken through the tall talahib grass (Saccharum spontaneum) was as visible as any trail in a fresh snowfall. We are running against time. The July post-summer midday sun is upon us. The sweet scent of the talahib grass refreshes the air but my body sweat says different. The fifteen-minute walk wasn't exactly arduous. I am entertained by Kuya Paulo Cauayan and immediately set the interview as we glide through the dancing grasses. It was a theatrical scene laid out in an expansive stage. The burst of shades of green gradually transitions from the plains jugged up to the mountains around us.  Kabalatanaw stream. The nearly-jewel blue stream of Kabalatanaw reminds us that we're near our destination yet the promised house is nowhere to be found. Still grasses. "A few more streams, perhaps? or five more mountain ranges?", I mentally whispered as I ask Kuya Paulo more questions. The concept of walking distance to the Mangyan Iraya must be f

Deliberation is the key! My first attempt to facilitate a community participatory planning with the Mangyan Iraya tribe. I woke up today feeling no pressure as to what to write about. I am enjoying a cup of hot choco at 11 in the morning while the weather outside slowly welcomes another season, spring! I set the mood with Starbucks music on youtube and we're ready! Without further ado, meet our research team! Naecia focused as ever! Naecia Cruel is one of my best friends in college, and fellow Landscape Architect. She travelled all the way from Antipolo to Mindoro for a week to help me out with my research. She transcribed nearly how of the interview we have had from our informants from Sitio Kuli-kuli, Abra de Ilog. Here, she speculatively inspects what Mr. Luisito Damiray draws on paper. I wouldn't have had started this research without her unwavering support and love for me. wink wink. She will begin her graduate studies at Yonsei University taking up MSc i

They Called it Punishment for a Reason! Charl Justine Darapisa The newly-constructed 'tinsid'. We reached Sitio Calomintao by 9. Baffled by our Team's arrival, the sitio's captain greeted us with a logbook that comes with a sweet smile. This is the glory of living peacefully in rural areas---everyone smiles to everyone and anyone. The newly-constructed tinsid was moved closer to the center of the sitio. It was originally located at the entrance where you will be immediately greeted by the assigned guard for the day. Now, this looks like a common plaza where men of different ages gather. The old tinsid that welcomed us during our first visit to the sitio.  The old tinsid looks exactly alike from the one we saw earlier, exactly alike! Apart from the missing wood logs and planks sitting quietly at the right open corner of the tinsid, not much has changed. The tinsid is an important space for the Mangyan Iraya tribe. It is a place to inspect the outsid

Like a light linen shawling on an appallingly sunny day, the newly germinated seedlings wait patiently for the rice bed to finish. The typical fields that sway to the movement of the blowing winds are yet to be seen. Guarded by a bamboo fence, I inspected closely one of the narseri or seedling nurseries. They are beautifully laid out like a sod carpeting a small portion of the rice field getting ready for a three-month journey right before they reach our table plates. If I am to be one of these seedlings, not knowing our end game, the zeal of excitement might have taken over me days before I get transplanted to the tubigan  (rice fields).  The rice fields arent exactly ready yet when we visited the farm. Apart from the more popular bayanihan , the Mangyan Iraya tribe practices saknungan  where 5-10 members of the community work together in the rice fields or in any agricultural farms like the  kaingin . Mr. Babit Renangyan was working alone that day. I was instant

Waking up to the bucolic rural landscape of Sitio Calomintao is a luxury. The milky, sweet scent of corns radiating from the fields excite the crisp fresh air of the sitio. The sound of the excited feet directs our eyesight to the students on their way to the Calomintao Settlement and Farm School---some wears uniform, some are on their daily t-shirt and short attires. I couldn't remember the excitement of going to school since I started writing my Master's thesis. There must be a good way to have things restarted once you're burnt out. Right now, I can't give you a proper answer, but a cup of coffee sounds nice. The scorching heat of the month of July worries nanay Caridad Cauayan. We saw her from our tricycle moving her carabao to shade. It must take a lot of strength to move one from one place to another. We were all shocked, even speechless from what we witnessed. The carabao kindly follows her, a connection one begins to flourish if you live in such a peaceful ru

The image of Sitio Calomintao in the morning of July paints a familiar rural image in the Philippines. The sitio sits in the middle of two mighty mountains and benefits from the bountiful, arterial river of Pagbahan. The two mountains, Mount Ranawan and Mount Balika, stand strong as they protect the sitio from the strong blowing winds of monsoon. As early as 6 in the morning, the sun wakes up the sitio for another busy day. To some, it is a perfect day to stretch out their bones to remove weeds in their kaingin farms while some are ecstatic to transfer their newly-germinated rice seedlings to the paddies.  The everyday morning view of Mount Ranawan as it sits mightily next to Sitio Calomintao.  Written by: Charl Justine Darapisa Credits to the DENR Mamburao for the field assistance!