Civilization and the Natives

I am often amused at people's reactions when they ask me about what I do. Here is what the conversation is generally like when I talk to people I meet for the first time:

Person X: What do you do?
Me: I do community and leadership development work in indigenous and tribal communities.
Person X: Aaah... You build schools to educate the natives?
Me: Oh no. The project implemented in the community largely depends on what they communicate is their priority and/or need.
Person X: So do you build roads for them?
Me: No. Our focus is on cultural preservation. We have never had an infrastructure project.
Person X: Oh so how will they become civilized?

Some conversations would end with Person X commending me for what I was doing, saying, "It's good that you're doing that so you can help the natives and they can be civilized."


Let's "civilize" these natives. Yeah.

The mountains of Paquibato District, Davao City
I ride the bus for a couple of hours, get off at Santo Tomas and then ride the habal habal to Panaga

I was in Panaga, a remote mountain community of the Ata people, for a couple of days to facilitate discussion and planning around an indigenous gathering they are doing in March. When I left the city at 10AM the skies were cloudy and the latest weather report was on a low pressure area east of Mindanao. When I got to the town of Santo Tomas (where I get off the bus and ride a habal habal to get to the area), it wasn't even raining. Magwawa, the first river I had to cross (I cross two) was not flooded but the waters were already murky. The driver said, "ulan na jud ni ngadto sa taas." (It's definitely raining up in the mountains now.) I got to the area and it was raining, we had the discussion and planning until late in the evening, and then it started to pour hard. It rained the whole night. 

When I got up the following morning, it was still raining and the river around 30 meters from the house I was staying at was already flooded. I instantly knew I wasn't going back to the city that day as tropical storm Crising had already made landfall in Mindanao. 

On the third day, the flood waters have subsided and I was told that I could now go back to the city. When we got to Magwawa, there were eight habal habal, one truck, one horse, and thirty men trying to cross the river which was knee deep at its shallowest and chest deep at its deepest.


Uncivilized?

There were five habal habal on our side carrying produce from the mountains to be sold in the town/city. Each habal habal either had sacks of squash or sweet potatoes or a bukag (big wide wicker basket) of bananas. On the other side there were three habal habal with passengers who needed to go into the village--public school teachers and small store owners carrying supplies they have purchased from the town.

Our side of the river
The guy who is smiling is Lolong, my habal habal driver for the day

A few enterprising men who lived near the river have decided to make some money. Individuals can get on a horse to cross the river and pay 10 or 20 pesos, sacks of produce can be carried to the other side by one of the men for 25 pesos per sack, and the habal habal can be lifted by a team of four to six men for 70 pesos.

I was riding with four Ata men on my habal habal with a bukag of bananas and a sack of sweet potatoes. And this was the conversation:

Man 1: Magpa tabok ta sa ila? (Are we going to ask them to help us cross to the other side?)
Driver: Ah! Ka mahal ana! (Oh! That's too expensive!)
Man 2: Didto na lang ta sa ubos tabok. (Let's go downstream and cross the river from there.)
Man 3: Ka-ulaw pud nga dili ta mag pa tabok sa ila. (But wouldn't it look bad if we don't ask them to help us cross?)
Driver: Aw. Wala man tay ika-bayad. (Ah. We don't have money to pay.)
Man 2: Dayungan gud nato ni. (Let's work together to lift the habal habal.)
Man 3: 'Ta! Sige! (Let's do it! Okay!)
Man 1: Ah! Kana! (Ah! That's it!)

We got off the habal habal, walked downstream, and proceeded to cross the river. The men took turns helping each other in lifting the sacks of squash and sweet potatoes, the bukag of bananas, and the habal habal until all five habal habal on our side of the river have crossed over. It took an hour or so.

Who's more civilized now?

I silently watched these men sweating as they waded in the flooded river multiple times to help each other cross to the other side. I couldn't help but smile at the irony of it all.

I come from the big city where people laugh and make fun of other people whose cars stall and float after attempting to cross a flooded street. We even make memes about it and they go viral. Yes. We have nice concrete roads. We have electricity and running water and computers and the internet.

And here I was, in a remote mountain village. Narrow and unpaved roads accesible only by modified motor bikes. Without tap water (oh, there aren't even taps *smile*) and electricity. And I get a front row seat to one of the most awesome displays of the height of human social development.

Where men help each other because it is the "human" thing to do.