I went to Batanes for a three-day business engagement and was blown away – much more than my five senses could take. In those three days I logged so many first-time experiences. But what struck me the most is the Ivatan ethos: honest, spiritual, and very, very resilient. A testament to how honest they are is the unmanned sari-sari store near Ivana port. Their spirituality on the other hand is evidenced in the way they greet – typically invoking God, speaking of blessings towards another.
An example is the way they say hello: “Kapian ka pa nu dius,” which is “May God be good to you.” If you want to say thanks, the Ivatan way is “Dius mamajes,” meaning “God will repay your kindness.” Even the Ivatan version of the quintessential Filipino “Tao po,” exudes spirituality. They call out, “Dius?” instead of “tao.”
I first heard of the Ivatan resilience in my climatology class back in college where my professor discussed how they have managed to survive countless typhoons through adaptive mechanisms.
In the evening of March 9 under a cloudless sky while snacking on kamote fries, I first heard their stories. Good thing we didn’t have any lights else my hosts would have seen my not-too-pleasant expressions: dropped jaw from shock, teary eyed from inspiring events, and at one point furrowed eyebrows and clenched teeth at what they go through when tourists arrive.
The Ivatans have years and years of experience when it comes to withstanding typhoons and surviving food shortages when ships bearing supplies fail to dock. They built stone houses to protect them from storms; planted dukay, wakay, and mais to combat hunger; brought their kin in idjang (natural fortress) when unfriendly forces attacked.
Now the Ivatans are up against another tempest: the onslaught of tourism. In 2014, the whole province experienced an astounding 340 percent increase compared to 2013 in tourist arrivals. 340 percent! I still shudder at the thought of what they are facing.
Perhaps due to climate change, the once seasonal Batanes has become available all year round. Even during typhoon season, around 600 people still visited the islands. We were told that during last year’s peak season (April to May), accommodations were fully booked and some walk-in tourists resorted to knocking on locals’ doors hoping to have a place to stay. Water and food shortage was also experienced, not to mention some of the goods were sold at a higher price. Maybe they should build more hotels? Plant more produce? Well, maybe if only they have a more stable source of electricity other than a genset, or perhaps a bigger land area? Maybe if they have rich fertile soils on top of the solid volcanic bedrock.
More disturbing than the issue with the commodities is the way how the Ivatans themselves are being commodified because of tourism. In Chavayan, one of the last few barangays where you can see authentic stone houses (yes, most houses in Batanes are concrete with GI sheets for rooftops), the tour is like clockwork. Tourists arrive as early as 8 a.m., peer into these houses, snap pictures, have selfies with Lola Marina wearing her vakul, buy souvenirs, then go. All done in an hour or less. Vans and jeepneys bringing tourists come and go like that until before noon. The whole thing orchestrated by some tour operators, who did not even consult with the community or sought their permission to be “showcased.” The community’s daily routine disrupted, their privacy disrespected.
I woke up early in the morning to observe how they go about their day until the time the camera-toting bunch left. I felt sad for the Ivatans, more so for the visitors who in my opinion were shortchanged.
In an hour, they could have learned more about the Ivatans’ strength of character, and of their stone houses. They could have experienced more of the village’s unique and culturally rich everyday life.
They could have gained more insights while being immersed in Ivatan language and music.
I could go on and on however this is becoming a too lengthy description for an album a handful of friends will bother looking at, perhaps even fewer reading about my thoughts.
On a final note: Batanes indeed inspires. Even this self-confessed non-writer may have inherited her parents’ writing genes after all.
(Ma. Iona Lacson-Dy is partner-operations manager of Earthbound Tourism Consulting Company specializing in eco-tourism.)
