Pahan-making: Weaving identity, tradition, and the courage to hold on to the past

Abstract

You might not know where Biliran Island is, or the way of life of the people there. But here’s one fact: living there for most of my childhood and teenage years, and witnessing its growth over time, one thing remains: the simplicity of a bucolic life away from the chaos of the world. Biliran is endowed with majestic falls, commanding mountains, ravishing rivers, rustic white beaches, and turquoise oceans. Despite advancements in technology, banking and commerce, the local people still fish or farm, enjoying the gift of the vastness of the seas and the richness of the earth. However, over the past decade, every time I would have the opportunity to visit my parents back in Biliran, I realised that I have been consistently beleaguered by one lingering thought: On this island of simplicity, beauty and grace, what customs are still being practised, who are holding on to these customs, and for what reasons? I kept asking this question because a custom that possesses deeper cultural and communal meanings deserves recognition and preservation. It is a thread that connects the past with the present, and it gives people a sense of belonging and continuity, reminding them that they are part of something larger than themselves.