Bangas Rising

(This article was first published in the Mindanao Cross on July 17, 2004. -aag)

There was no way to get out of the motorized banca that had no outriggers.  Small waves lapped at the Jolo port as we helplessly looked at the dark sheet of rain advance towards us from the horizon where there were no threatening skies earlier.  The water let out a crunchy sound as heavy raindrops broke the surface of the Sulu Sea.

Our guide, Sam Hadjal, Peace and Development Advocate (PDA*) of the nearby island of Bangas (Municipality of Hadji Panglima Tahil or HPT, formerly Marungas), shouted out orders to two fellow nimble-footed boatmen to secure the video equipment we were bringing into a small compartment in the boat’s prow.  The rest of our luggage that could not fit in were hurriedly wrapped in plastic grocery bags that finally served their purpose after staying in our backpacks’ forgotten pockets for some time.

The next twenty minutes of heavy downpour drenched us – Sam and the boatmen, video- and professional cameraman Joe Benavides, Scriptwriter/director Abner Luzon, production assistant Cris Enopeña, fellow UN Volunteer Ibrahim Lakibul and three other passengers.  We were on our way to document the peace building efforts of the GOPUNMDP3 and partners in the Peace and Development Community (PDC) of Bangas.

“The rains have a way of neutralizing the waves,” shared Ibrahim, himself a Tausug.  “The sea is usually calm after a downpour.  This banca is semi flat-bottomed and doesn’t have outriggers so that it can easily glide in the waves.  Outriggers can break easily with big waves.”  The banca is owned by the Barangay Local Government of Bangas.  20-liter plastic containers filled with drinking water bought from the mainland also provided some stability.

Experiencing heavy rain while seaborne was some kind of a spiritual journey.  Looking at a view of five to six islands in the horizon was an entirely new experience.  And the sea: it looked powerful.  No, it wasn’t cold; there wasn’t a breeze.  “This will not take long,” Sam said, surveying the skies. 

Bangas is a community of bakwits (Internally displaced persons or IDPs) who had fled the mainland of Sulu at the height of the conflict in the 70s.  This explains why most of the residents are not related to each other.  The place is serene, and the harmony among the Bisayans, Sama, Badjaos and Tausugs can be felt even by a first time visitor.

The 45-minute trip let us dock in a newly constructed community wharf under full sunshine.  I was ferreted to Sam’s house; the men in Bgy Capt Mohammad Basiri’s house.  Both houses are on stilts.   We change clothes and dried the wet ones under the sun.  Lunch was grilled fish and squid, green mango slices and seaweeds.

HPT Municipality is a group of islands owned by the Tahil clan, who were generous enough to let the bakwits stay and call it home.  We pay a courtesy call in the main island to former Mayor Hja Daraw Tahil-Hayudini who is a direct descendant of the Panglima.  A retired teacher and very articulate, she exudes a motherly aura that is both respected and feared by the community.  The incumbent mayor, Hja Nedra Burahan, who is also her daughter-in-law, is in Jolo. 

“We waited for you yesterday for the celebration of the Maulud-n-Nabi,” Hja Daraw told us.  Maulud-n-Nabi is the birthday of Prophet Muhammad (SAW).  This was just a few days after elections and indeed we lost one-half day in our itinerary due to poor cell phone signals.  Coordination really went awry but with the help of DXMM-Jolo reporter Fatma Adili and Fr Romeo “Villy” Villanueva we had accommodations for the night at the De Mazenod Formation Center.    

 

Remnants of the previous day’s celebration were still apparent.  Live coals that roasted a fattened cow were still smoking.  We take footages of the noonday prayers.  We waited for this moment as it is disrespectful – or bad taste at least, to stage a religious activity for a documentary. 

We interview Bgy Capt Basiri, PDA Sam, UNV Ibrahim.  We take footages of boats in different stages of production; their barangay multi-purpose hall that houses their computer, television with satellite cable connection; their bakery; their dried seaweeds and seaweed lines; men constructing the barangay health station; young girls pounding rice for sweets; women and children in joyful chatter; young people playing basketball with one ring.   A marker tells us that one white-sand mangrove-lined paradise is called Ramos Beach.

By the end of the day our clothes and leather hikers were bone dry.  Five hours of electricity came from a generator.  Supper was still fish and squid, prepared differently this time; another variety of seaweeds; and two kinds of sea urchins (suaki and tihi-tihi).  This would easily cost us a thousand pesos in any city! 

Basiri, a soft-spoken man who is called “baryo” by the residents, dreams of more things to come to Bangas. No war, there's harmony among different tribes, the sea is abundant -- it’s amazing to see how a small dot of an island like Bangas in a majestic Sulu Sea already have elements of peace that defy conventional perception.  


Development is not far behind.  It's a matter of time.

*****


*PDAs are former MNLF combatants