Gaddang

Gaddang, also Gadang or Gadang, derives from ga meaning heat or fire, and dang meaning burn, and means burned by heat. The name probably alludes to the skin color of the Gaddang, which is darker than any of the native peoples of the old Mountain Province. The Gaddang are found in northern Nueva Vizcaya, especially Bayombong, Solano, and Bagabag on the western bank of the Magat River, and Santiago, Angadanan, Cauayan, and Reina Mercedes on the Cagayan River for Christianized groups; and western Isabela, along the edges of Kalinga and Bontoc, in the towns of Antatet, Dalig, and the barrios of Gamu and Tumauini for the non-Christianized communities. The 1960 census reports that there were 25,000 Gaddang, and that 10 percent or about 2,500 of these were non-Christian. In 1979 the total population of the Gaddang increased to 43,150.

Gaddang Legend of Magat River

Magat was a handsome and strong-willed youth who saved a lovely maiden bathing in a stream from the clutches of a python. He proposed marriage to the woman, who consented on condition that Magat would swear not to see her at noon. One day, Magat could no longer contain his curiosity and broke into his wifes seclusion. In place of his wife, he saw a crocodile, who turned into his wife. You broke your promise, lamented the woman. Having said this, she slowly turned once more into a crocodile and died. After burying his crocodile-wife in his front-yard. Magat drowned himself in the same stream where he first espied her. Over time, the stream grew into the mighty Magat River. It widens and grows, it is said, because Magat wants to claim the remains of the wife he buried in the heart of the town.

LUISA A. IGLORIA (aka Maria Luisa AguilarCario) is poet and Associate Professor in the MFA Creative Writing Program and Department of English, Old Dominion University. Her work has appeared or will be forthcoming in numerous anthologies and journals including Poetry, Crab Orchard Review, The Missouri Review, Indiana Review, Poetry East, Smartish Pace, Rattle, The North American Review, Bellingham Review, Shearsman (UK), PRISM International (Canada),The Asian Pacific American Journal, and TriQuarterly. Various national and international literary awards include the 2009 Ernest Sandeen Poetry Prize for Juan Luna's Revolver (University of Notre Dame Press), the 2007 49th Parallel Poetry Prize (selected by Carolyne Wright for the Bellingham Review), the 2007 James Hearst Poetry Prize (selected by former US Poet Laureate Ted Kooser for the North American Review); Finalist, the 2007 Lynda Hull Memorial Prize in Poetry (Crazyhorse); Finalist, the 2007 Indiana Review Poetry Prize; the 2006 National Writers Union Poetry Prize (selected by Adrienne Rich); the 2006 Richard Peterson Poetry Prize (Crab Orchard Review); the 2006 Stephen Dunn Award for Poetry; Finalist, the 2005 George Bogin Memorial Award for Poetry (Poetry Society of America, selected by Joy Harjo); the 2004 Fugue Poetry Prize(selected by Ellen Bryant Voigt); Finalist, the 2003 Larry Levis Editors Prize for Poetry from The Missouri Review; Finalist, the 2003 Dorset Prize (Tupelo Press); the first Sylvia Clare Brown Fellowship from the Ragdale Foundation (2007); a 2003 partial fellowship to the Summer Literary Seminars in St. Petersburg; two Pushcart Prize nominations; a 1998 Fellowship at the Hawthornden Castle International Retreat for Writers in Lasswade, the Midlothians, Scotland; and the 1998 George Kent Award for Poetry. Originally from Baguio City in the Philippines, Luisa is also an eleventime recipient of the Carlos Palanca Memorial Award for Literature in three genres (poetry, nonfiction, and short fiction); the Palanca award is the Philippines' highest literary distinction. She has published 10 books including JUAN LUNA'S REVOLVER (University of Notre Dame Press, 2009 Ernest Sandeen Prize in Poetry); TRILL & MORDENT (WordTech Editions, 2005; CoWinner of the 2007 Global Filipino Literary Awards in Poetry); ENCANTO (Anvil, 2004); and IN THE GARDEN OF THE THREE ISLANDS (Moyer Bell/Asphodel, 1995.(less)

Cordillera Tale The Giantess and the Three Children

Retold by Ma. Luisa B. Aguilar-Carino (1) ONCE THERE WERE three orphans who lived in a small house that had a garden, because they had no rice fields and no one to hunt for them, each night they would lay sharp shells and sticks across their garden path. In this way, they would catch an occasional wild boar for food. But though they would manage to trap a wily animal in their front yard from time to time, it would always be eaten by the vultures or other wild animals because they had no fire on which to roast the meat. Only the giantess, Bekat, had fire. The children were thin and hungry. One day they could stand it no longer. They had just caught a large boar in their garden, and now they decided to ask Bekat for fire. Bekat, Bekat, the children called in giantess garden. The giantess came out of her house. She was larger than a house, and the children trembled but tried not to show it. What do you want? asked the giantess. When she spoke, the children could see her sharp teeth. We have come to ask for fire, replied the children. That is easy to have, said the giantess wickedly. But you must give me a hog in exchange for it. The children looked at each other in dismay. One whispered, How is that? If we get the fire and give her the boar, we will be as hungry we were before! I have a plan, whispered his sister. Let us pretend to leave. Yes, said the third child, then let us follow her into her house and steal fire when she is not looking. So the children pretended to look sad. We have no hog, they told the giantess. Then you cannot have fire! bellowed Bekat. The giantess stomped back into her house. The children crept along its walls and peered into the house of Bekat. There she was in the corner, taking the tangles out of her matted hair. In the middle of the room was a small fire. The children tiptoed in, walking in the shadows. Then they grabbed a burning twig and ran home as fast as they could, taking care not to put out the fire. The children joyfully cut up the wild boars meat and roasted it over their fire. However, Bekat smelled their cooking and followed the smoke to the childrens house. Ah-ha! she exclaimed. You took fire from me! You must give me part of what you have to eat, or I shall roast you on my fire!

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The children let her sit with them. Bekat took their food baskets and took charge of dividing the meat. The bones and tough parts she dropped into the childrens baskets, and the fat and slices she kept for herself. The children looked at each other. Then, one of them said, Let us swim in the river before we eat. Can you dive well? he asked Bekat. We can dive very well, he continued boastfully. Bekat followed them to the river. The children dived into the water first; then they surfaced and said, Your turn, Bekat. Do you know how? Bekat dived; she had a difficult time coming up because she was so heavy. While she was still in the water, the children raced back to the house. They emptied Bekats food basket and put the meat into theirs. They poured large stones into Bekats basket and then they hid on a branch of a tree growing near the river. Bekat came out of the water and called the children. There was no answer, so she resumed to their house. She did not see them there either, so she picked up her food basket and went home. When she opened it to eat the boar meat, she set up aa great howl. The children had tricked her! She stomped through the forest, breaking young trees and kicking up bushes in her fury. Coming to the river, she saw the childrens reflections in the water; they had not moved from their hiding place on the tree. Bekat thought the children were hiding in the water. She dived but could not find them there. when she came out, she looked up and saw where they were. The children screamed. Oh, Kabunian, they prayed, Save us now! The giantess laughed an evil laugh. She took an axe out of her pocket and began to hack at the tree. Oh, Kabunian, prayed the children again, Let her not hit the tree; Let her hit her knee instead. The giantess suddenly gave a great yelp. She had cut off her leg at the knee so she fell over backward and died. That was the end of the giantess Bekat.

The Origin of the Monkey (Sayma Nag-gapuan Ma Bulangan, Bua River Dialect) By Ilongots
Long time ago there lived a rich man who had many properties. He had a large farm. He had many helpers on his farm to do the work. This man was so selfish that he fed his laborers only once a day. There were so many workers so he had some make a kaingin. After cutting the small trees under the big ones, they went to the forest to get rattan which could be made into tagiboc. When they returned from the forest, it was already mid-day. After their return, they were very hungry. Being so hungry, they began to climb the big trees to cut the branches and even the twigs. As they were so hungry and there were no means of obtaining food, they became faint. They took the rattan and placed it between their legs. Finally, it was connected to their anus, and thus became their tails. Not long after, the rich man went to the farm to see the workers. Upon his arrival, he was surprised because his laborers were not around. Instead, he found monkeys jumping and running among the trees. He called to them: but not one listened to him. They ran away. The rich man went home and was wondering where his laborers had gone. He didnt know at first that his laborers has turned into monkeys; but on the following night he dreamed that his workers were the monkeys which he had found in the farm. That is the origin of the monkey.

The Ilongots are Indonesians who inhabit the southern Sierra Madre and Caraballo Mountains, on the easterly central part of Luzon Island in the Philippines. At the present time, there are about 2500 of them. The type measurements of the Ilongots are: stature, 156; forehead, 82; and shape of nose, 89. These people tend to live near the streams which furnish them much of their livelihood and transportation. On account of long isolation and varied associations with the Ainu, Negritos, and other peoples, many different dialects and customs have developed, which divide the Ilongots into three distinct groups. Along the upper waters of the Cagayan River is the Italon group which exhibits some short Mongol mixture, especially to be seen among the women. The men wear long hair with a characteristic hair net over the forehead. The Egogut group lives on the Tabayon River; while the primitive Abaka group inhabits the Conwap River. In each of these main groups are localities each having its varied dialect and customs. However, the salient composite features of the ancient Ilongot culture can be described. Although there is a large concentration of villages at the source of the Cagayan River, Illongot communities are generally scattered in the Southern Sierra Madre and Carballo mountains. Numerous rivers and dense tropical rain forests define Ilongot territory, covering Nueva Viscaya, and parts of Nueva Ecija and Quirino.

Narrative Poetry

Edith L. Tiempo (April 22, 1919 August 21, 2011), poet, fiction writer, teacher and literary critic was a Filipino writer in the English language. Tiempo was born in Bayombong, Nueva Vizcaya. Her poems are intricate verbal transfigurations of significant experiences as revealed, in two of her much anthologized pieces, "Lament for the Littlest Fellow" and "Bonsai." As fictionist, Tiempo is as morally profound. Her language has been marked as "descriptive but unburdened by scrupulous detailing." She is an influential tradition inPhilippine literature in English. Together with her late husband, writer and critic Edilberto K. Tiempo, they founded (in 1962) and directed the Silliman National Writers Workshop in Dumaguete City, which has produced some of the Philippines' best writers. She was conferred the National Artist Award for Literature in 1999.

THE RETURN
Edith L. Tiempo If the dead years could shake their skinny legs and run As once he had circled this house in thirty counts, He would go thru this door among these old friends and they would not shun Him and the tales he would tell, tales that would bear more than the spare Testimony of willed wit and his grey hairs He would enter among them, the fatted meat about his mouth, As he told of how he had lived on strange boats on strange waters, Of strategems with lean sly winds, Of the times death went coughing like a sick man on the motors, Their breaths would rise hot and pungent as the lemon rinds In their cups and sniff at the odors Of his past like dogs at dried bones behind a hedge, And he would live in the whispers and locked heads, Wheeling around and around and turning back was where he started: The turn to the pasture, a swift streak under a boys running; The swing up a few times and he had all the earth he wanted; The tower trees, and not so tall as he had imagined; The rocking chair on the porch, you pushed it and it started rocking, Rocking and abruptly stopped. He, too, stopped in the door way, chagrined. He would go among them but he would not tell, he could be smart, He, an old man cracking the bones of his embarrassment apart.

Ilongot or Ilungot comes from i, a prefix denoting people and gongot/longot or forest, and means people of the forest. Ngot/ngut also suggests fierceness. A Spanish version is Egongot. Ilongot is more commonly used than Bungkalut, a selfdesignation, which applies to the entire ethnic group. Other terms refer to Ilongot subgroups: Abaca, to the Qabeik river settlers, and Italon, to the Talon river settlers; and the Ibilao or Ivilao, coined by lowland converts, particularly the Isanay. Although there is a large concentration of villages at the source of the Cagayan River, Ilongot communities are generally scattered in the southern Sierra Madre and Caraballo mountains. Numerous rivers and dense tropical rainforests define Ilongot territory, covering Nueva Vizcaya, and parts of Nueva Ecija and Quirino. In 1989 the tribal population was 28,730, about half that of Nueva Vizcaya. The Ilongot language is Proto-Malay, close to the Ibanag in Cagayan. Dialects can vary in words, grammar, intonation, and speed of delivery. For example, in the Bua River dialect, the plural is achieved by prefixing the numerals or the word adulang (many); the possessive by suffixing -co (first person), -mo (second person), and -da (third person) to the noun; and the gender by adding -a becog (female) or -a gaki (male) to the noun.

Ilongot Baliwayway
Ilongot Folks My son, now that you are still young, I compare you to a blooming flower, But, when you grow to be a big man, Maybe you will be a naughty youth; But, though my suspicions are like that, I just bear them all Because, if you will grow, and have a long life, You shall take care of me when i grow old. I am then urging you to sleep, So that I can go out to the field and work, To plant; so we may have something to reap, to sustain our life: So that you will grow easily. And if you will grow to be a man, my son, You shall take my place on the farm. You shall climb the tall trees in my stead; Cut the branches and the trunk, So that we shall have some place to plant rice To sustain us, while we are still alive.

Lyric Poetry

Fernando Maramag was an excellent poet and journalist in English. He had a rich style and deep understanding of human nature qualities which made his poetry appealing to all readers. On the other hand, his editorial writings exerted great influence on the various phases of the Filipino way of life, particularly in its government, economics, education and politics, according to a critic. He was born on January 21, 1893 in Ilagan, Isabela, to Rafael Maramag and Victoria Mamuri, a Spanish mestiza. His parents were wealthy landowners. At age seven, he was enrolled in a public school in his hometown. He finished his high school in 1908. He was 15 when he entered the Philippine Normal School. However, at the insistence of his father, he transferred to the University of the Philippines. At UP he started writing for the school organ. A brilliant student, he later became its editor-in-chief. Among his equally brilliant classmates, were Pilar Hidalgo-Lim and Jose Hilario. Together, they managed the school newspaper. At age 21, he was named principal of the Instituto de Manila, a prestigious school for gifted and well-off students. Later, he became an English professor at UP. He also taught at San Juan de Letran. During this time, he met and married Constancia Ablaza, by whom he had six children. In 1917, he became the editor of Rising Philippines, a daily read by almost every literate Filipino because of its nationalistic contests. The Philippines Herald and the National Weekly also benefited from his editorship. With his credentials, he started to work in the government as chief of the publications division of the Department of Justice. Later, he became technical assistant to then Senate President Manuel Luis Quezon. Maramag published countless poems which were devoured and admired by the reading public, like My Queen Tagala, The Atheist, A Christ Without a Cross, Jose Rizal, and The Presentation. He wrote about the history of the English language in the Philippines. This enabled him to mine the secrets of English poetics, especially its techniques. Leopoldo Y. Yabes, a noted literary historian, included seven of Maramags works in his book of Filipino essays in English, which has become a standard textbook in English in Philippine schools and universities. Maramag also wrote appraisingly of some eminent Filipinos in history like the Presidents Manuel Quezon and Sergio Osmea , Sr., not to mention Dr. Jose Rizal, neither understating nor over glorifying their qualities and achievements, but treating his subjects with sincerity and respect. He died on October 23, 1936.

The Rural Maid

Fernando M. Maramag

1. Thy glance, sweet maid, when first we met, Had left a heart that aches for thee, I feel the pain of fond regret Thy heart, perchance, is not for me. 2. We parted: though we met no more, My dreams are dreams of thee, fair maid; I think of thee, my thoughts implore The hours my lips on thine are laid. 3. Forgive these words that love impart, And pleading, bare the poets breast; And if a rose with thorns thou art, Yet on my breast that rose may rest. 4. I know not what to name thy charms, Thou art half human, half divine; And if I could hold thee in my arms, I know both heaven and earth were mine.

Dangdang-Ay
English Wherever I am, My thoughts shall always be with you. Believe me, when I tell you, That there is something in this peace That I experience, Which you, too, probably feel. There is no one that I ever adored but you. There is a wilting flower. Imagine it when it was in bloom. The flowers may fade away But my love for you never will. If you care, let up then live together. If I were a hawk, I would fly to the highest mountain, Even from the distant place, Yes, from another village, Just to be able to reach you In the land of Kalinga.