“ANG pagbuo nang ating kasaysayan ay hindi madali,” relates historian John Barrios in the opening moments of “Daan Patungong Tawaya” – a documentary helmed by directors Kevin Piamonte and John Raymund “JR” Macahilas. “Kailangan mong hanapin ang mga tauhan at makinig sa kanilang mga boses, para maintindihan ang kanilang mga kwento.”
(“Completing our history has not been easy. You need to look for the people and seek out genuine voices to fully grasp their stories.”)
From the creators of “Land from God” (“Lugta Ke Tamama”) – which was featured during the 2018 Busan International Film Festival in Korea – “Daan Patungong Tawaya” follows Barrios on a homecoming of sorts to his birthplace Kalibo, as he rediscovers the narrative of the 19 martyrs of Aklan – weaving between accounts of the fallen heroes’ surviving family members, vignettes on indigenous healing and local customs, and rehearsals for the reenactment of the historical tragedy, to paint a multifaceted picture of the revolution in Panay Island.
Often the chronicles of the Katipunan are centered on Manila, in “Tawaya” the little known history of the uprising in this region – one of the largest Katipunan movements outside of Luzon – is held up for a larger audience.
On Mar. 23, 1897 – just days after the assassination of revolutionary leader General Francisco del Castillo – 19 men, suspected of being members of the Katipunan, were summarily executed via musketry in Kalibo, now remembered as the 19 martyrs of Aklan. Ahead of the 121st anniversary commemoration of their sacrifice in 2018, Barrios helps retrace their past by interviewing historians and gathering first-hand accounts – all the while also literally sweeping the dust off his own previous research, which he began more than a decade ago with fellow authors Melchor Cichon and Dominador Ilio in writing the book “The Katipunan in Aklan.”
Journey ‘to paradise’
Fittingly, “Daan Patungong Tawaya” lends its name from the oldest known Akeanon poem “The Song of Balinganga,” or the “Hambae Inakeanon,” said to have been written in the year 1568 by an unknown author. Historian Artemio Nabor reportedly discovered the piece of archaic literature in 1968, crudely etched onto an amago (hard wood) tablet in ancient baybayin script.
Tawaya is an old Akeanon word meaning “paradise” or “utopia” – by coincidence or by fate, the last three characters in both the Bankaya phonetic alphabet of Aklan, as well as the more widely-used baybayin – “a ba ka da ea ga ha i la ma na nga o pa ra sa Ta Wa Ya.”
“Daan Patungong Tawaya” revels in illuminating the mysticism of the Katipunan movement, particularly in the regions, as manifested by the superstitions of the 19 martyrs. Thought to employ anting-antings and other indigenous beliefs to render them impervious to gunfire, Spanish soldiers allegedly bayonetted each of the 19 martyrs’ bodies after they were killed, just for good measure.
Accounts reveal the cadavers of a few of the Akeanon heroes also yielded semi-precious white stones, embedded under their skin – in their prime – to ward off death and danger. Though now usually only referenced as a footnote to history, Katipuneros were known to associate with babaylans and syncretic healers that married Roman Catholicism with native beliefs. The Supremo Andres Bonifacio himself was said to carry an amulet bearing the image of Santiago de Galicia mounting a horse, and the Nuestra Señora del Pilar on the reverse side.
History from below
Credibility is lent by leading Filipino historian and scholar Reynaldo Ileto, author of the epoch-making book “Pasyon and Revolution,” who Barrios personally interviews in the former’s home in Singapore. A champion “towards a history from below,” Ileto is known for his uncompromising stance to retell the history of the Philippine revolution from the point of view of the grass-root masses and the marginalized sectors of society.
In “Daan Patungong Tawaya,” the venerated Ileto speaks candidly about how traditional historians used to frown upon his work, as he incorporated the accounts of the common people and the beliefs of the masses, including indelible superstitions and indigenous practices. “Tawaya” contributes to Ileto’s legacy as an advocate of the unnoticed voices and often unheard multitudes.
Modern day native healer Angeles Fanunal leaves a lasting impression in “Tawaya,” as she lists native plants and the illnesses they can remedy before bellowing ominously: “I know how you will die,” interspersed with scenes of the bloodied 19 martyrs being hogtied and shot in the head.
“While there are also women heroes, Philippine history can be considered male-centric,” the directors of “Daan Patungong Tawaya” express. “Little has been known, or hardly are there serious discussions about the important aspects of babaylanism in our history and in relation to the revolution.”
For a documentary that also aims to lift the female voice in our region’s history, “Tawaya” has sparse accounts of the substantiated contribution of women and the babaylans to the revolutionary movement. But, of course, this speaks more of the male-dominated history of the Philippines at large than the lack of foresight of our resilient filmmakers. Babaylans in our history have long suffered erasure from our collective history as a nation, from the colonizers that butchered them and fed them crocodiles during the Spanish era to traditional historians of today that push these valiant accounts of heroism more and more to the fringes.
At the heart of “Daan Patungong Tawaya” is a lively discussion that remedies this, between three proud Ilonggas from different fields: Colleagues historian Joyce Colon, psychology and gender studies professor Moniq Muyargas, and sociologist Cristabel Rose Parcon-Magbanua. Together the triumvirate discuss the largely phallocentric failings of Philippine history, highlighting the inevitability of the clash between the friars of the Spanish era and local shamans due to their polar ideals, as women finally get a seat at the proverbial table.
It’s the highlight of the entire film seeing the three bounce ideas off of each other, in how as modern women, scholars, and educators they can navigate these themes in propagating a more nuanced portrayal of regional history – tackling gender politics, the innate divinity of women in native belief, and the obscured feminist babaylanic face of the revolution.
In Ileto’s opus “Pasyon and Revolution,” he quotes female activist Salud Algabre, an organizer during the sakdal peasant uprising of 1935: “No uprising fails, each one is a step in the right direction.”
In its closing moments, “Daan Patungong Tawaya” alludes to the fact that the martyrdom of the 19 in Aklan inspired a revolt led by women in the mountainous town of Vivo, where around 40 Spaniards were slaughtered after being misled and lured to a bloody feast. This writer actually sees this narrative as more compelling compared to the execution of the 19 martyrs of Aklan.
Resources about the contributions of babaylanism to the revolution in the region remain few and far between, but “Daan Patungong Tawaya” presents itself as a triumph toward a history from below, as the narrative of the Katipunan finally also finds a home in Panay Island.
As Barrios concludes in “Tawaya’s” final scene: “Ipagpatuloy ang hindi natapos na rebolusyon! (Continue the unfinished revolution!)”
“Daan Patungong Tawaya” is supported by the Film Development Council of the Philippines and the National Historical Commission of the Philippines through their Sinesaysay Documentary Lab and Showcase. The full-length documentary is helmed by ERK Productions, led by filmmakers Emmanuel Lerona, Ruperto Quitag, and Kevin Pison Piamonte./PN
