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The Enduring Legacy of ‘Colonial Mentality’ in the Collective Filipino Psyche

2025-11-10T16:38:00.024+08:00

You probably have noticed it by now, but somehow, not been paying attention.

If a foreigner praises our English fluency, many of us beam with pride. Yet the same compliment in Tagalog, Bisaya, or Ilocano rarely gets the same sparkle in return. There is that quiet imbalance where the instinct is to value what sounds Western over what feels Filipino.

It is that faint echo of a long-lasting spell: colonial mentality.

Psychologists define it as an internalised belief that anything from the coloniser’s world (language, culture, religion, skin tone, institutions) is superior, while anything native is somehow lacking. It’s the mental residue of centuries under Spain and the United States, persisting long after flags changed and anthems were rewritten.

Some people say that we're like a chocolate bar or a coconut, we're brown on the outside but white on the inside.

Are We Really Free?

On July 4, 1946 (even the date falls on an American holiday - the Fourth of July), the United States lowered its flag over Manila, and the Republic of the Philippines was formally inaugurated as the first independent nation in post-war Asia. The ceremonies were elaborate, the speeches were stirring, and the fireworks were spectacular. Yet, as the smoke cleared and the last American diplomat departed, what remained was a nation free in name but still shackled in the mind, with sovereignty proclaimed from podiums but not yet internalised in the nation's psyche.

This is the central paradox: while the archipelago achieved formal political autonomy decades before most of its Asian neighbours, it never completed the more difficult work of psychological decolonisation. As a result, it planted that seed that remained deeply embedded in Filipino consciousness.

Unlike the neighbours, which forged robust post-colonial national identities through deliberate cultural and psychological decolonisation, the Philippines inherited a unique form of dependency that historian Daniel Immerwahr aptly describes as "the substance of annexation without actual annexation."

This article traces the deep roots and persistent branches of colonial mentality in the Filipino psyche. We begin by unearthing the forgotten sovereignty of pre-colonial Philippines, examining the independent chiefdoms that flourished before Western contact. We then analyse how Philippine "independence" was structured to maintain American influence, creating a neocolonial relationship unlike any other in Asia.

Drawing on comparative analysis, we explore how neighbouring nations successfully decolonised their identities while the Philippines remained dependent. Finally, we examine the high costs of this psychological captivity and propose pathways toward genuine decolonisation.

When We Stood On Our Own

Before colonisation, the Philippine archipelago wasn’t just empty, free real estate for Spain’s civilising hand. It was a network of independent polities: bustling port-towns, maritime kingdoms, and barangay alliances trading freely with China, Champa, and the Malay world.

Archaeological finds from the Butuan balangay boats to the Laguna Copperplate Inscription (LCI) prove organised governance, codified laws, and literate administration long before European contact. These artefacts dismantle the colonial myth that “civilisation” began with the cross and the sword.

Tondo, based along the Pasig River delta, functioned as a major trading centre tied to China and Brunei. Butuan, in northern Mindanao, issued its own gold currency and maintained diplomatic relations with the Song dynasty as early as the 10th century. Sugbu (Cebu), ruled by Rajah Humabon, was a thriving entrepôt whose influence stretched across the Visayas.

Indigenous Political and Economic Systems

Beyond individual kingdoms, pre-colonial Philippines operated under coherent systems that enabled independent governance and economic prosperity without Western models.

Each polity had its own ruler (datu, rajah, or lakan) and systems of tribute, law, and kinship that reflected both autonomy and alliance. In short, the archipelago already understood power, diplomacy, and economy long before any coloniser redrew its map.

The barangay was actually the fundamental unit of governance, typically comprising 30 to 100 families under a datu. Unlike European feudal lords, datus ruled through a combination of inherited authority, personal charisma, and demonstrated competence in leadership. Their power derived from their ability to protect their followers, settle disputes, and organise collective labour for agriculture and defence.

What made the barangay system remarkable was its adaptability. In coastal areas, it functioned as maritime trading units; in interior regions, as agricultural collectives. The datu's authority was absolute but not arbitrary, as customary law (adat) constrained power, and subjects could transfer their allegiance to another datu if they felt oppressed. This created a form of political accountability centuries before European Enlightenment philosophy. The system enabled the archipelago to sustain millions of inhabitants, manage complex irrigation systems for rice cultivation, and maintain internal peace without a centralised state bureaucracy.

Complex Trade Networks

Pre-colonial Filipinos were integral nodes in the Indian Ocean and South China Sea trading networks. Archaeological evidence reveals extensive commerce:

China: Export of gold, pearls, tortoise shells, and medicinal plants; import of porcelain, iron tools, and silk
Japan: Trade in metal implements and pottery
Southeast Asia: Exchange of spices, aromatic woods, and slaves for Indian textiles and glass beads
Middle East: Arab merchants traded for Filipino products, as evidenced by Islamic artifacts found in coastal burial sites

This commerce was not mere barter but sophisticated exchange using standardised weights, measures, and credit systems. The LCI itself references a debt of gold and the legal mechanisms for its discharge as proof of financial instruments and contractual law operating in 10th-century Luzon.

Indigenous Legal Systems

The bud-bud (Visayan) or budhi (Tagalog) system of customary law governed social relations with remarkable sophistication. These unwritten codes regulated marriage, inheritance, debt, and warfare. Offences were compensated through negotiated payments rather than incarceration, which is a restorative justice model that prioritised community harmony over punishment. The existence of such systems contradicts colonial-era claims that Filipinos had no law before Spanish arrival.

Religious and Philosophical Systems

Pre-colonial Filipinos possessed a distinct religious consciousness that blended animism with influences from Hindu-Buddhist traditions. The diwata (spirit) hierarchy mirrored the social structure, with powerful nature spirits requiring propitiation through ritual. Burial practices, evidenced by the Manunggul Jar and other artifacts, reveal sophisticated cosmological beliefs about the afterlife.

Crucially, this religious system was entirely indigenous. While influenced by Indian and Islamic ideas through trade, it remained authentically Filipino, integrated with agricultural cycles, social obligations, and moral teachings. The Spanish did not replace "paganism" with Christianity; they replaced one sophisticated belief system with another, erasing the former's legitimacy through systematic demonisation.

The Philippine Golden Age

The period from roughly 900 to 1521 CE represents what historian William Henry Scott termed the "Philippine golden age", which was a time of expanding trade, population growth, and cultural fluorescence. Filipino craftsmen produced textiles that competed with Indian imports, goldwork that astonished Chinese traders, and pottery that was exported throughout the region. The archipelago's population likely exceeded one million, supported by intensive rice agriculture, maritime fishing, and sophisticated resource management.

Literacy and Craft Industries

Contrary to colonial propaganda about "illiterate natives," multiple writing systems existed across the archipelago. The Baybayin script was widespread in Luzon and Visayas, used for poetry, commerce, and record-keeping. The Hanunó'o and Buhid scripts of Mindoro, preserved to this day by the Mangyan peoples, demonstrate unbroken literary traditions. Spanish friars systematically destroyed indigenous texts, burning them as "works of the devil," yet fragments survived in the journals of early missionaries who recorded native poetry and oral epics.

Filipino metallurgy was equally advanced. The Banaue rice terraces, which were built centuries before Spanish arrival using stone and earthworks without modern tools, represent engineering genius. Goldsmiths created filigree work of breathtaking delicacy, blacksmiths produced swords that matched Japanese katana in quality, and weavers created textiles using complex ikat techniques.

This forgotten sovereignty matters because it reveals the magnitude of what was lost, not just political independence, but a complete, functioning civilisation. When contemporary Filipinos view themselves as "behind" or "less than," they suffer from historical amnesia about their ancestors' achievements. Colonial mentality requires the erasure of this pre-colonial greatness; its persistence depends on the myth that Filipinos were always dependent, always in need of foreign guidance.

The independent chiefdoms of Tondo, Butuan, and Sugbu were not anomalies. They were part of a regional pattern of maritime Southeast Asian states that successfully governed themselves, created wealth through trade, and maintained distinct cultural identities. Their subjugation was not inevitable; it was achieved through superior European military technology, devastating diseases, and centuries of violent suppression. Recognising this history is the first step toward healing the colonial wound, for it proves that independence is not a gift from former colonisers but a restoration of an ancient Filipino condition.

The Paradox of Independence

The Philippine Revolution of 1896-1898 represented the first successful anti-colonial uprising in Asia. Under the leadership of the Katipunan, a secret society founded by Andrés Bonifacio and later commanded by Emilio Aguinaldo, Filipinos fought a brutal war of liberation, establishing the First Philippine Republic in Malolos in January 1899.

This was not a revolt for reform or autonomy within the empire but a declaration of radical sovereignty. The Malolos Constitution created a democratic republic with separation of powers, a bill of rights, and universal male suffrage, making it one of Asia's most progressive governments of its era.

The Short-Lived Freedom

But the revolutionaries' victory was immediately betrayed. The Spanish-American War of 1898 provided the United States with a pretext to intervene, and at the Treaty of Paris, Spain "sold" the Philippines to America for $20 million without consulting the Filipinos, who had already liberated 90% of their territory. When Aguinaldo's government attempted to exercise sovereignty, U.S. forces responded with overwhelming military force.

The Philippine-American War (1899-1902) and the subsequent "pacification campaigns" resulted in the deaths of an estimated 200,000 to 1 million Filipino civilians through combat, disease, and systematic atrocities, including concentration camps and scorched-earth tactics.

This betrayal was more than a geopolitical crime; it was a psychological rupture. The revolution had proven that Filipinos were capable of self-government, yet this proof was violently suppressed and replaced with the colonial narrative that independence was premature, that Filipinos were unprepared for democracy, and that American tutelage was necessary.

As historian Daniel Immerwahr observes, the United States "didn't just defeat the Philippine Republic; it erased the fact that the republic had ever existed as a viable state." This erasure made colonial mentality possible by denying that Filipinos had ever successfully governed themselves; the American colonial project could position itself not as an interruption of sovereignty but as its prerequisite.

The Americans in Charge

The American colonial administration, unlike its Spanish predecessor, masterfully combined material development with psychological subjugation. The United States built schools, roads, and democratic institutions, but always within a framework that ensured Philippine subservience to American strategic and economic interests. This created a neocolonial arrangement more sophisticated than direct rule.

The Tydings-McDuffie Act of 1934 exemplified this conditional independence. While promising sovereignty after a ten-year "Commonwealth" period, the act imposed numerous restrictions that would persist beyond independence:

The Philippines would adopt a constitution acceptable to the U.S. President
The U.S. would retain military bases and the right to recruit Filipino soldiers
American citizens and corporations would receive preferential treatment
The Philippine peso would remain pegged to the U.S. dollar
Trade would be governed by reciprocal tariffs that favoured American exports

Crucially, the act stipulated that independence could be postponed if conditions were deemed "unstable", a perpetual threat that hung over the Filipino elite, conditioning their behaviour toward continued American approval. This was not independence; it was independence as a reward for good behaviour, to be granted only when it served American interests.

The Commonwealth period (1935-1946) reinforced this dependency. President Manuel Quezon, despite his nationalist rhetoric, governed under the constant supervision of a U.S. High Commissioner. The Philippine Army was trained and equipped by Americans, its officers educated at West Point. The education system, modelled on American curricula, produced a generation of English-speaking elites who viewed their own culture through American eyes. The infrastructure built during this period was designed to integrate the Philippine economy with American markets, not to create self-sufficient domestic production.

World War II provided the final twist. Japanese occupation devastated the Philippines, but American "liberation" reconquered the country primarily to secure it as a Pacific base. The destruction of Manila in 1945, one of the war's most brutal urban battles, left the new republic physically shattered and psychologically primed for continued dependence. When independence finally arrived on July 4, 1946 (a date chosen to mirror American independence, not a historically significant Filipino date), it was celebrated as liberation. In reality, it was a managed transition from colonial status to a neocolonial client state.

The Post-Independence Dependence Syndrome

The Philippines did not merely accept neocolonial economic structures; it embraced them by transforming dependency into a national development strategy. While other post-colonial nations nationalised colonial industries or built protectionist walls, the Philippines maintained an economic system that systematically extracted wealth for foreign benefit, a pattern that continues to generate what critics call "ripping-off" through unequal exchanges where the Philippines provides high-value resources and labour while receiving low-value manufactured goods and deteriorating terms of trade.

The Parity Rights Rip-Off

On paper, the Philippines became the first Southeast Asian nation to gain independence after the Second World War. But the conditions that came with it, such as the Bell Trade Act of 1946, tethered the new republic to U.S. interests. American companies retained equal rights to exploit natural resources, while tariffs and quotas kept the local economy dependent on the export of sugar, coconut, and minerals.

Economist Gerardo Sicat later observed that the Act “institutionalised dependence rather than partnership,” ensuring that the archipelago remained a supplier of raw goods rather than a producer of finished ones. In other words, we changed masters, not habits.

The Laurel-Langley Agreement of 1955 institutionalised economic dependence through several mechanisms:

Parity rights: American citizens and corporations received the same rights as Filipinos to exploit natural resources and operate public utilities, which is a constitutional provision forced on the Philippines as a condition for receiving war reconstruction funds
Reciprocal free trade: Philippine exports entered the U.S. duty-free, but American-manufactured goods flooded the Philippine market, destroying infant industries
Currency peg: The peso remained tied to the dollar, making Philippine monetary policy subservient to U.S. Federal Reserve decisions

American mining companies extracted billions of dollars in gold, copper, and chromite while paying royalties of only 2-5% to the Philippine government. By 1972, American firms controlled 60% of mining output, 80% of export agriculture, and 100% of petroleum refining. The profits were repatriated to the U.S., while the environmental devastation (deforestation, river pollution, coral reef destruction) remained in the Philippines.

When the Parity Amendment expired in 1974, Ferdinand Marcos simply replaced it with the Investment Incentives Act, which granted foreign corporations tax holidays, duty-free importation, and full profit repatriation. This was not pragmatic openness to investment; it was a continuation of colonial-era extraction disguised as development policy.

The result was what economist Walden Bello terms "the political economy of permanent dependency," where Filipino capitalists became "compradors," middlemen who enriched themselves by facilitating foreign exploitation rather than building indigenous industry.

These arrangements transformed the Philippines into a primary commodity exporter and manufactured goods importer, which is a classic colonial economic relationship disguised as free trade. American corporations extracted billions in profits from Philippine mining, logging, and agriculture while paying minimal taxes.

Filipino entrepreneurs were crowded out, and economic diversification was stifled. The result was what economist James Boyce calls "the political economy of external dependence," where domestic elites enriched themselves by serving as middlemen for foreign capital.

The Import Substitution Failure

The 1950s-60s import substitution industrialisation (ISI) strategy reveals how dependence was structurally embedded. ISI theoretically aims to replace imported manufactured goods with domestic production, building industrial capacity behind protective tariffs. In theory, this should have diversified the economy and reduced dependence. In practice, the Philippine ISI failed because the state protected assembly operations while allowing foreign corporations to import components duty-free. Philippine "industrialists" merely assembled foreign parts by adding minimal local value while paying heavy royalties for foreign technology.

Meanwhile, export agriculture remained dominated by American corporations. Del Monte and Dole controlled pineapple plantations, using Filipino workers at wages below subsistence while selling canned fruit to the U.S. at below-market prices through quota agreements that benefited American consumers. The Philippines exported raw materials and low-value products, importing high-value finished goods, the classic colonial trade pattern that ISI was supposed to reverse.

The failure was psychological as much as structural. Filipino policymakers could not imagine industrialisation without American technology, capital, and market access. When South Korea and Taiwan launched successful ISI programs in the 1960s, they did so by restricting foreign ownership and forcing technology transfer. The Philippines did the opposite, welcoming American joint ventures that ensured technological dependence. The colonial mentality framework explains this: Filipino elites did not believe they could build modern industry without American validation and partnership, so they accepted deals that preserved American dominance.

Export-Oriented Dependence

By the 1980s, the IMF and World Bank pressured the Philippines to abandon ISI for export-oriented industrialisation (EOI), following the model of Asian Tiger economies. But while South Korea and Taiwan used EOI to build indigenous brands (Samsung, Hyundai, Acer), the Philippines became a platform for foreign assembly operations. The export processing zones (EPZs) created under the Marcos regime and expanded by subsequent administrations offered foreign corporations tax-free status, subsidised utilities, and restrictions on labour unions. Workers in EPZs earned below minimum wage while assembling garments, semiconductors, and electronics for American and Japanese brands.

This was not development; it was contract manufacturing that reinforced technological dependence. The Philippines exported the labour value while foreign firms captured the brand value, design profits, and technological rents. By 2019, the Philippines' top exports were still integrated circuits and semiconductor devices—components shipped to China for final assembly, then exported under American, Korean, or Japanese brands. The country remained, in economist Joseph Lim's words, "a production appendage rather than an innovation center."

The Brain Drain as Colonial Export

Perhaps the most devastating economic manifestation of colonial mentality is the systematic export of human capital - the "brain drain" that transforms education into a subsidy for Western economies. The Philippines produces world-class nurses, engineers, doctors, and teachers, yet cannot retain them because colonial mentality structures the domestic economy to devalue Filipino expertise while overvaluing Western opportunity.

The nursing exodus exemplifies this. The Philippines trains approximately 20,000 nurses annually, yet 85% emigrate within five years of graduation. This is rational individual choice as Filipino nurses earn ₱30,000-40,000 ($600-800) monthly at home versus $5,000-8,000 in the U.S. But it is also a structurally engineered dependency. The U.S. actively recruits Filipino nurses, having established a colonial education system (starting with the Pensionado Act of 1903) that oriented medical training toward American standards. The Philippine economy depends on remittances ($33 billion in 2022, 8% of GDP), creating a perverse incentive to export rather than employ skilled workers. Policymakers celebrate overseas Filipino workers (OFWs) as "heroes," but this rhetoric masks a failure to create domestic opportunities that would validate Filipino credentials at home.

More insidiously, the brain drain reinforces colonial mentality. The best and brightest leave, proving to those who remain that success requires Western validation. An engineer who stays in the Philippines is suspected of lacking ambition; a nurse who works in a provincial hospital is seen as settling for less. The narrative becomes: "If you're truly talented, you leave; if you stay, you prove your mediocrity." This self-fulfilling prophecy ensures that local institutions never accumulate the critical mass of talent needed to challenge dependency.

Military Subjugation

Formal independence did not end American military presence; it was restructured through unequal treaties.

The Military Bases Agreement of 1947 granted the U.S. 99-year leases on 23 military installations, including the massive Clark Air Base and Subic Bay Naval Base. These were not mere facilities; they were sovereign American territories within the Philippines, exempt from Philippine law and taxation, where U.S. military personnel committed crimes with impunity. The bases ensured that Philippine foreign policy could never deviate from American strategic interests—any threat to close them would trigger economic retaliation.

The 1951 Mutual Defense Treaty formalised this subservience by compelling the Philippines to consult the United States before engaging in any significant diplomatic or military action. During the Cold War, this meant automatic Philippine support for U.S. interventions in Korea, Vietnam, and elsewhere, which were wars that served the American foreign policy while draining Philippine resources and lives. The treaty created what political scientist Claude Ake termed "the politics of dependency," where national security was outsourced to the former coloniser.

The bases were not mere facilities but colonial enclaves that signalled continued subordination. The bases served U.S. strategic interests in projecting power across Asia during the Cold War, while the Philippines assumed the risks by becoming a target for Soviet or Chinese retaliation without controlling the weapons that would invite attack.

The 1991 Philippine Senate vote to reject base renewal is often cited as a triumph of sovereignty. But the aftermath reveals the persistence of dependence. The U.S. withdrawal created an economic crisis in Central Luzon and Olongapo, where entire economies had been built around servicing American soldiers.

Politically, U.S. influence endured through military bases and mutual defence treaties: Clark, Subic, and later the Visiting Forces Agreement (VFA) and Enhanced Defense Cooperation Agreement (EDCA). Each time Manila sought to assert autonomy, Washington’s shadow loomed large, promising protection but also shaping policy. Even our post-war constitution bore American fingerprints: presidential system, bicameral legislature, and a legal framework modelled on theirs.

The Pawn in Pacific Strategy

The Philippines functions as a forward operating location for U.S. power projection against China. This is not a strategic partnership of equals; it is subcontracted geopolitics. The Philippines provides territory, manpower, and diplomatic support while the U.S. determines strategy, deploys assets, and makes decisions about war and peace that affect Filipino lives. The Mutual Defense Treaty obligates the U.S. to defend the Philippines, but American diplomats have repeatedly stated that treaty obligations are discretionary—"we will respond according to our constitutional processes," which means Washington decides if and when to help.

This strategic subordination manifests in dangerous ways. When the U.S. pivoted to Asia during the Obama administration, the Philippines was expected to serve as its "unsinkable aircraft carrier." Filipino naval forces conduct "freedom of navigation" patrols in the South China Sea that serve American interests in containing China, yet the Philippines bears the brunt of Chinese retaliation—illegal fishing incursions, harassment of Filipino fishermen, and militarisation of contested reefs.

The U.S. provides rhetorical support but no material guarantee that it would go to war with China over Philippine territorial claims. As political scientist Richard Javad Heydarian notes, the Philippines is "allied with the United States but not protected by it", a classic neocolonial condition where risks are local but benefits are imperial.

Automatic Alignment with American Foreign Policy

Philippine foreign policy has historically been indistinguishable from American foreign policy. During the Cold War, the Philippines sent troops to Korea (1950-53) and Vietnam (1964-69), wars that served no Philippine strategic interest but validated the "special relationship." When the U.S. invaded Iraq in 2003, the Philippines contributed a "humanitarian" contingent despite domestic opposition, earning the dubious distinction of being part of the "Coalition of the Willing." Even after the 1991 base closure, the Philippines remained a "major non-NATO ally," a status that meant automatic diplomatic support for American positions at the United Nations.

This alignment is not pragmatic balancing; it is a psychological reflex. When the U.S. State Department criticises a Philippine policy, Filipino officials scramble to adjust rather than engage in diplomatic pushback. When the U.S. praises Philippine "democracy" (regardless of actual democratic conditions), Filipino leaders trumpet this validation domestically. The 2016 presidential campaign saw candidates competing to demonstrate who had stronger American connections, with one candidate publicly releasing photos of his meeting with a U.S. senator as proof of his international stature. In no other sovereign nation does approval from a former coloniser remain so central to domestic political legitimacy.

The "Special Relations" Myth

Perhaps the most insidious mechanism of neocolonial control was the ideological construct of "special relations", which is the narrative that the U.S. and the Philippines shared a unique bond based on shared values, historical ties, and American altruism. This mythology served several functions:

It normalised unequal treaties by framing them as a mutual partnership
It delegitimised nationalist critics as "ungrateful" or "anti-American"
It created a psychological expectation that Filipino progress required American guidance

Successive Philippine presidents internalised this narrative, measuring their legitimacy by their proximity to American power. Official visits to Washington, D.C. became essential rituals of validation, where presidents from Roxas to Marcos sought and received American blessings for their regimes. The U.S. did not need military force to enforce compliance; Filipino elites policed themselves, seeking constant approval from the former coloniser.

This validation-seeking behaviour extended to every sphere of national life. Filipino academics sought American PhDs for credibility, artists needed American gallery exhibitions for recognition, and policy proposals required World Bank or IMF endorsement to be taken seriously domestically.

The result was what sociologist C Wright Mills, writing about post-colonial societies, called "the submission of the colonised mind", a condition where even the thought of genuine independence becomes unimaginable.

The contrast with Asia's other post-colonial nations is stark. While our neighbours built indigenous institutions and consciously rejected neocolonial relationships, the Philippines remained locked in what historian Nick Cullather describes as "America's empire of the mind." This was not merely a failure of political will; it was the successful fulfilment of American colonial policy, which had designed independence to perpetuate dependence.

The Psychology of Internalised Oppression

Colonial mentality is not merely a cultural preference or an individual personality trait; it is a specific form of internalised oppression that functions as a measurable psychological construct.

Dr. David provides empirical validation for what previous generations of Filipino intellectuals had described anecdotally. In their seminal 2006 study published in Cultural Diversity and Ethnic Minority Psychology, David and colleagues identify colonial mentality as "a specific consequence of centuries of colonisation" that creates distinct patterns of cognition, affect, and behaviour among Filipino Americans and, by extension, among Filipinos in the homeland.

The construct comprises multiple dimensions that operate synergistically:

Cultural worthlessness: A deep-seated belief that Filipino culture, traditions, and ways of being are inherently inferior to Western alternatives
Cultural/somatic shame: Disdain for one's physical features (skin colour, nose shape, body type) and cultural practices that mark one as "not White"
Automatic cultural/somatic devaluation: The reflexive tendency to view anything Filipino-made or Filipino-looking as lower quality
Colonial debt: A sense that Filipinos owe gratitude to their former colonisers for "civilisation" and progress
Denial/minimisation of oppression: The tendency to downplay the severity of colonial exploitation or to view it as ultimately beneficial

These dimensions are not abstract attitudes; they correlate with measurable mental health outcomes. David's 2008 study, developing a "colonial mentality model of depression", found that internalised colonial oppression predicts depressive symptoms above and beyond other stressors, suggesting that self-hatred functions as an independent pathogenic factor.

The mechanism of transmission operates through what psychologists call intergenerational trauma. Colonial mentality is not learned through explicit teaching but through subtle daily reinforcements across generations.

Parents who praise light-skinned children over darker siblings, teachers who mock students for speaking English with a "Filipino accent," media that glorify Western celebrities while ignoring Filipino achievers, and politicians who quote American presidents more readily than Filipino heroes all create a cumulative conditioning effect. Children internalise these messages as truth about their inherent worth, forming what Paulo Freire calls a "colonised consciousness" that polices itself for deviance from Western norms.

This internalisation serves a psychological function: it reduces cognitive dissonance. Faced with the contradiction between the colonial narrative of Filipino inferiority and the reality of one's own competence, the colonised mind resolves the tension by accepting the narrative.

As David explains, "If the coloniser is believed to be superior, and if the coloniser's oppression is believed to be deserved or normal, then it becomes easier to accept one's subjugated status without experiencing debilitating anger or cognitive dissonance." This self-blame becomes a maladaptive coping mechanism, protecting against the despair of recognising systemic injustice while creating chronic psychological wounds.

Manifestations in Filipino Society

The colonial mentality construct manifests across every domain of contemporary Filipino life, creating what sociologist Johnspin Carmona calls "the architecture of self-colonisation."

Elitism and Cultural Cringe

The term "cultural cringe," coined by Australian critic A.A. Phillips to describe colonial insecurity, finds its fullest expression in the Filipino elite. For this class, Western validation is the ultimate currency of legitimacy. A Filipino CEO gains more credibility by mentioning his Harvard MBA than by demonstrating successful management of a local conglomerate.

A politician's speech becomes more authoritative when peppered with quotes from American presidents rather than Filipino heroes. Even revolutionary organisations like the Communist Party of the Philippines frame their analyses using Marx, Lenin, and Mao while struggling to integrate indigenous perspectives.

This cringe manifests in institutional practices. The Supreme Court of the Philippines routinely cites American jurisprudence, even when deciding cases involving purely Filipino contexts. The University of the Philippines, the nation's premier state university, uses English as its primary medium of instruction not because it is pedagogically optimal, but because it signals world-class status. Filipino architects win awards by building glass-and-steel towers that imitate Singaporean or American designs, while indigenous architectural traditions are dismissed as "provincial."

Identity and Self-Perception

Walk through any shopping mall and you’ll see it: whitening creams promising “instant confidence,” English-only job ads, and the reverent way we pronounce foreign brand names. And even calling everyone "mamsir" smells like the fresh air of subservience. These aren’t quirks of taste, they’re symptoms of internalised hierarchy.

David's Colonial Mentality Scale, which he used to test among Filipino-Americans, has shown links of this bias to lower self-esteem and feelings of cultural shame. Among Filipinos in the homeland, this plays out subtly:

Parents brag more about a child working abroad than one thriving locally.
Students who speak fluent English are often seen as smarter or more “refined.”
Lighter skin remains an unspoken beauty ideal, even as we joke about being “kayumanggi and proud.”

It’s a social code learned over generations: the unspoken rule that Western equals better.

Title and Credential Obsession

People are obsessed with their titles and credentials since Spanish times with the Don and Doña before their name. Soon, people scrambled to have the Dr., Engr., Atty., and Hon. before their names.

The preference for Western academic credentials operates as a caste system. A Filipino Ph.D. from a local university is automatically ranked below an American master's degree holder. Government agencies, corporations, and universities offer higher salaries and faster promotion to employees with foreign degrees, creating a brain drain even within the country. Talented scholars leave the local academe to earn American credentials, not because the education is superior, but because the credential carries validation weight.

This creates a perverse cycle. Filipino universities cannot retain top faculty because they cannot compete with the prestige of foreign institutions. Consequently, they cannot build research excellence that would challenge Western academic dominance.

The result is what sociologist Randy David calls "intellectual tutelage"—the perpetuation of a system where Filipino knowledge is validated only when it conforms to Western academic fashions. A research paper on Philippine poverty is more likely to be published if it uses American statistical models than if it employs indigenous methods of understanding deprivation. The Western theoretical framework becomes the standard, and Filipino reality is forced to fit it.

The Economics of Self-Denigration

In Filipino consumer culture, the label "imported" functions as an automatic quality marker, while "local" or lokal carries connotations of cheapness and unreliability. Middle-class families will pay premium prices for American brands of milk, detergent, and cosmetics even when chemically identical Filipino products are available at half the cost. This behaviour cannot be explained by rational consumer choice: it is a performance of status that signals sophistication and proximity to Western modernity.

The skin-whitening industry in the Philippines exemplifies somatic colonial mentality. Valued at over $2 billion annually, it markets products with names like "Fair & Lovely," "White Perfect," and "Snow Caps," promising to erase the melanin that marks one as Filipino.

Television advertisements feature narratives where dark-skinned women gain employment, romance, and social acceptance only after becoming visibly lighter. This is not merely aesthetic preference; it is the internalisation of racial hierarchies where whiteness equals opportunity and brownness equals obstacle. The fact that many of these products contain dangerous levels of mercury and hydroquinone, causing long-term skin damage, does not diminish their popularity; the psychological need for validation outweighs physical health risks.

Linguistic Colonialism

Language use reveals deep hierarchies. English remains the language of power, education, and sophistication, while Filipino languages are relegated to informal, domestic, or "crude" contexts. Filipino parents speak English to their children as a sign of modern parenting, creating generations who think in English while struggling to express complex emotions in their ancestral tongues. The phenomenon of "carabao English," mocking those who speak English with Filipino syntax, polices language and reinforces shame about linguistic heritage.

A De La Salle University study found that many college students equate English with intelligence and global competence, while viewing local languages as markers of provinciality. That bias starts early, reinforced by schools that penalise “vernacular use” and reward polished English diction.

This extends to code-switching patterns called "Taglish," which is not a creative hybrid but often a marker of insecurity. Filipinos insert English words into Filipino sentences to signal education and worldliness, even when perfectly adequate Filipino terms exist. When a Filipino says "I'm so stressed na with my deadlines", instead of using equivalent Filipino words, they are not merely being pragmatic; they are performing a colonial identity where English concepts carry more legitimacy than indigenous ones.

Cultural Erasure and Appropriation

Colonial mentality creates what post-colonial theorist Gayatri Spivak calls "epistemic violence", the delegitimisation of indigenous knowledge systems. Filipino traditional medicine (arbularyo), agricultural practices, and conflict resolution methods are dismissed as "superstitious" or "backward," even when they have proven effective for centuries. Meanwhile, Western science rediscovers these practices (e.g., the anti-inflammatory properties of lagundi, the sustainable logic of kaingin agriculture), rebrands them, and sells them back to Filipinos as modern innovations.

In academia, Filipino scholars often face pressure to publish in Western journals to gain tenure, forcing them to frame Philippine issues using Western theoretical frameworks rather than developing indigenous methodologies. A study on Filipino family dynamics must cite American psychologists like Freud or Bowen to be considered legitimate; referencing Filipino theorists like Virgilio Enriquez's Sikolohiyang Pilipino risks marginalisation in "mainstream" discourse.

The Validation-Seeking Syndrome

Perhaps the most visible manifestation is what might be called the "international approval addiction." Filipinos celebrate when a Filipino singer appears on The Voice, when a Filipino chef wins a James Beard Award, or when a Filipino film is nominated for an Oscar, not simply as achievements, but as validations that Filipino talent is worthy of Western recognition. The Manny Pacquiao phenomenon illustrates this: his boxing victories were celebrated not just as athletic triumphs but as proof that Filipinos could defeat Americans at their own game, thereby earning global respect.

This extends to political behaviour. Philippine presidents routinely seek meetings with U.S. presidents to legitimise their administrations domestically. Foreign policy decisions are filtered through the question: "What will Washington think?" When President Duterte attempted to pivot toward China, he was condemned by the Filipino elite not primarily for strategic reasons, but for betraying the "special relationship", the psychological umbilical cord to American approval.

The mass-mediated obsession with international awards reveals how validation-seeking has become a national psychosis. When Filipino boxer Manny Pacquiao defeated Oscar De La Hoya in 2008, the nation erupted in celebration not just for sporting victory, but because a Filipino had defeated an American icon, thereby earning global respect. Pacquiao's subsequent political career demonstrates the transitive property of colonial mentality: his legitimacy as a senator derived not from legislative achievement but from his capacity to generate international validation through boxing.

Beauty pageants operate similarly. The Philippines' obsession with Miss Universe, Miss World, and Miss International crowns (the country has won four Miss Universe titles) reflects a desire for Western aesthetic validation. When Pia Wurtzbach won Miss Universe 2015, her victory was framed as proof that "Filipina beauty is world-class", the implicit assumption being that Western standards define beauty and Filipino worth must be measured against them. The fact that most Filipinas do not resemble the mestiza features celebrated in these pageants creates a feedback loop where the "ideal" Filipino is one who approximates Western appearance.

The Colonial Mentality Model of Depression

Research pioneered by Dr. E. J. R. David at the University of Alaska Anchorage provides a clinical framework for understanding the mental health costs of this validation-seeking. The "colonial mentality model of depression" posits that individuals who internalise colonial oppression experience chronic identity conflict. They are torn between their authentic cultural self and the colonised self they perform to gain acceptance. This creates what David terms "cultural dissonance depression", a condition where the effort to suppress indigenous identity and adopt alien standards generates persistent dysphoria.

The model identifies three pathways to depression:

Self-denigration: Constantly measuring oneself against Western standards leads to chronic feelings of inadequacy
Interpersonal alienation: Disconnection from one's cultural community creates social isolation
Learned helplessness: Believing that colonial structures are immutable leads to passive acceptance of oppression

These mechanisms operate at both individual and national levels. The Philippines as a nation experiences "cultural dissonance depression", the tension between its historical sovereignty and its neocolonial present. National pride becomes conditional upon external validation; without American praise, the nation feels worthless. This explains the paradox: Filipinos are individually proud and resilient, yet collectively insecure, constantly seeking international rankings (World Bank ease-of-doing-business, Transparency International corruption index, Credit Suisse wealth reports) to validate national progress.

Social Media and the Validation Economy

The digital age has amplified colonial mentality through what might be called "neocolonial virality." Filipino content creators achieve fame by performing American or Korean aesthetics—speaking English with a neutral accent, reviewing American products, and adopting Korean beauty routines. A Filipino TikToker who mimics American dance trends gains followers; one who promotes indigenous dance remains niche. The algorithmic preference for Western content creates a feedback loop where Filipino creators self-colonise, producing what they believe will gain international approval rather than expressing authentic Filipino culture.

Even progressive activism falls into this trap. Filipino social justice advocates frame their causes using American terminology ("intersectionality," "microaggressions," "safe spaces") to gain traction with Western audiences, inadvertently making their movements less accessible to the Filipino masses who don't speak academic English. The validation comes from Western retweets and shares, not from building grassroots solidarity in Filipino languages.

The Philippines' post-independence dependence syndrome is not a failure of policy but a triumph of colonial design. Every manifestation from economic subservience to validation-seeking reinforces the core colonial mentality message: Filipinos cannot thrive without Western approval and partnership. This is the ultimate rip-off: a nation rich in resources, talent, and historical achievement reduced to perpetual apprenticeship, constantly paying tribute in the form of deference, resources, and self-abnegation.

The syndrome persists because it serves the interests of both foreign powers and the domestic elite. American corporations profit from extractive deals. American military forces gain strategic platforms. American culture industries capture Filipino markets. Meanwhile, Filipino elites who facilitate these arrangements enrich themselves while enjoying the psychological security of American validation. They become what Frantz Fanon called the "national bourgeoisie", a class that "merely substitutes itself for the former colonialists" without transforming colonial structures.

For the masses, the syndrome manifests as a collective Stockholm Syndrome, where the captor (America) is idealised and the promise of approval becomes the justification for continued subordination.

Cultural and Political Dependency

Colonial mentality also seeps into how the nation relates to power.

Our government often looks West for models, whether it’s American-style democracy, neoliberal economics, or imported frameworks for “development.” Even pop culture follows suit: Hollywood references dominate, and the Oscars matter more than the FAMAS awards.

Political scientist Benedict Anderson once noted that post-colonial nations risk becoming “imagined communities patterned after their colonisers.” The Philippines exemplifies this tension: free on paper, yet still performing Western modernity to prove its worth.

The dependency extends to foreign policy. We routinely seek Washington’s reassurance over security in the South China Sea, over trade access, and over human-rights legitimacy as if independence must be constantly re-certified.

Psychological Consequences

Colonial mentality doesn’t just shape culture; it affects mental health.

As mentioned above, studies among Filipino Americans show strong links between colonial mentality and depression, shame, and identity conflict. The internalised sense of inferiority corrodes self-concept, often producing what therapists call “internal cultural invalidation.”

A 2023 systematic review by the Portland State University School of Social Work found that colonial mentality among Filipino and Filipino Americans contributes to social withdrawal, anxiety, and reluctance to seek help, especially from Filipino therapists, whom some perceive as “less professional” than Western ones.

In short, colonisation didn’t just seize land. It quietly rewired self-perception, teaching generations to equate Western proximity with safety and success.

The Mandela Effect

In popular consciousness, the colonial past often blurs into myth. Many Filipinos fondly recall how the Americans “taught us democracy” or how the Spanish “brought civilisation,” forgetting that these same powers suppressed native governance, languages, and belief systems.

It's the collective misremembering of history that romanticises the coloniser while erasing precolonial sophistication. We forget that before 1521, ancient communities were already thriving maritime chiefdoms engaged in trade with China, the Malay world, and the rest of Asia.

You’ll still hear people say, “Without the Americans, we’d be nothing,” or “Spain gave us religion.” Both overlook the rich indigenous governance, craftsmanship, and spirituality that existed long before Western contact. This selective memory shields the colonial system from criticism and keeps dependency alive not by force, but by fond recollection.

The Unhealthy Nostalgia for ‘The Good Old Days’

There’s a persistent yearning for a time when the Philippines was “more disciplined,” “cleaner,” or “better under the Americans.” This unhealthy nostalgia glamorises the colonial or early postcolonial era while ignoring who benefited from it. These were the elites educated in Western schools or those close to colonial power. And guess what? Their descendants are still calling the shots for us.

Social media fuels this myth-making: vintage photos of Manila’s Escolta or old U.S. bases circulate with captions like “Look how advanced we were then.” Yet those snapshots often hide inequality, censorship, and dependence.

Comments like “Mas okay pa noon, may respeto sa mga Amerikano,” or viral posts idealising 1950s Manila as a “mini-America”, show how nostalgia can blind us to the exploitative roots of that prosperity. Some even yearn for the Philippines to become an American state.

Crab Mentality as Internalised Hierarchy

What’s often dismissed as a cultural flaw. Crab mentality, or the tendency to pull others down, is a byproduct of colonial conditioning. Centuries of social ranking under Spanish indios, mestizos, and ilustrados reinforced the idea that success is limited and proximity to power (or whiteness) means worth.

Instead of cooperation, we inherited a competitive survivalism that involves a hierarchy where another Filipino’s success feels like your own loss. This mindset thrives today in workplaces, politics, and even online discourse, where tearing others down passes as critique.

From influencers mocked for speaking Filipino-accented English to local brands accused of “trying too hard,” crab mentality sustains the belief that Filipino-made equals second-rate unless endorsed by the West.

Why Decolonisation Never Fully Took Root

While many post-colonial societies exhibit symptoms of cultural cringe or admiration for former colonisers, colonial mentality in the Philippines is distinguished by its intensity, pervasiveness, and institutionalisation.

Comparative analysis reveals that colonial mentality correlates with two factors: duration of colonisation and nature of independence struggle. The Philippines experienced 377 years of continuous colonial rule (1565-1946), longer than any major Southeast Asian nation except East Timor.

More significantly, its independence was granted by the coloniser rather than seized through revolutionary victory. As Fanon argued in The Wretched of the Earth, independence without revolutionary violence often fails to shatter the colonised psyche because it leaves intact the colonial class structure and ideological apparatus. The Filipino elite who negotiated independence were themselves products of American education and patronage, making them incapable of envisioning a truly decolonised nation.

This comparative perspective validates David's theoretical framework: colonial mentality is not a universal post-colonial condition but a specific psychopathology produced by particular historical configurations. Where other nations experienced a rupture with colonial authority, the Philippines experienced continuity, making its colonial mentality more deeply embedded and resistant to change.

New Nation, Old Framework

The Philippines is unique in that independence did not trigger a systematic decolonisation program. Instead, the neocolonial structures established by the United States ensured that colonial mentality would not just persist but thrive. The educational system continued to glorify American history while ignoring Filipino resistance. The economy remained dependent on American markets and investment. The political elite derived legitimacy from American connections.

Post-war legislation ensured that U.S. capital retained privileged access to Philippine markets. Local elites, many of them educated in American universities, saw little reason to disrupt this arrangement; their wealth depended on it.

As historian Renato Constantino wrote in "The Miseducation of the Filipino," the colonial classroom taught obedience rather than liberation. “We were trained,” he said, “to admire the foreigner and distrust our own capacity.”

By the time the postwar generation came of age, dependency had been normalised not as subjugation, but as the sensible way of keeping up with the modern world.

Psychological and Cultural Inertia

Even when structures can be reformed, mental habits take longer to unlearn. Colonisation didn’t just rewrite political maps; it reshaped self-worth. The Spaniards used religion to introduce guilt and hierarchy; the Americans used education to instil admiration and aspiration. Both forms worked: one by fear, the other by flattery.

This double conditioning left the Filipino psyche split: proud yet apologetic, confident yet deferential. As Fanon warned, “The colonised is taught not only to obey but to admire the one who commands.”

Filipino psychologists call this hiya (shame) mixed with utang na loob (debt of gratitude), which are emotions weaponised by colonial rulers and later recycled in politics and daily life. It’s why many Filipinos still struggle to challenge authority or Western expertise, even when their own insights are just as valid.

The Global Context

While much of Asia surged through nationalist revolutions, the Philippines entered the Cold War as America’s “showcase of democracy.” Instead of breaking free, it became the poster child of U.S. influence in Asia as proof that a former colony could thrive under Western guidance.

But this “special relationship” came with strings.

The country hosted major American military bases until 1991.
U.S. aid and investment propped up local elites and dictated development priorities.
The education system continued exporting labour, like teachers, nurses, and engineers, creating the Overseas Filipino Worker (OFW) economy that now props up national GDP.

In effect, the Philippines rebranded colonial dependence as global integration. Our workers became modern-day galleons by carrying skill, sacrifice, and remittances abroad while the country learned to measure its strength not in self-sufficiency but in exportable labour.

The Failure of a Cultural Revolution

Unlike Indonesia’s post-Sukarno cultural movement or Vietnam’s socialist reorientation, the Philippines never underwent a sweeping cultural revolution. Postwar leaders prioritised reconstruction and alliance over redefinition. Even today, national identity debates circle around borrowed symbols from English slogans to Western-style pageantry instead of rediscovering precolonial or indigenous roots.

Attempts at decolonisation emerged sporadically, such as the nationalist education reforms of the 1970s, the reintroduction of Filipino as a medium of instruction, the revival of Baybayin scripts and local crafts, but they often stalled under political shifts or public indifference. Each generation seemed to start over, unsure of what a “Filipino” truly means beyond borrowed ideals.

The Comfort of Dependency

Dependency, after all, offers comfort. It absolves a nation of the risk that comes with self-reliance. As long as there’s an ally to fund, protect, or validate us, we can postpone the hard work of self-definition.

But comfort is not freedom. And until the Philippines confronts how politically, economically, and psychologically dependency is woven into its national identity, true decolonisation will remain unfinished business.

Lessons from Our Neighbours

History rarely moves in sync, even among neighbours. After the Second World War, most of Southeast Asia faced the same question: now that the colonisers are gone, who are we?

The answers varied, and the Philippines, for all its early independence, arguably struggled the most to craft its own.

Indonesia: Pain Before Pride

Indonesia’s independence in 1945 came with blood, not ceremony. Unlike the Philippines, which received sovereignty through legal transition, Indonesia fought a four-year revolution against the Dutch. That struggle forged unity where islands and languages might have divided.

National identity became something earned, not granted. The leaders Sukarno and Hatta understood that political freedom meant little without psychological liberation. Sukarno’s vision of Nasakom (nationalism, religion, communism) sought to balance ideology and inclusivity; his later “Guided Democracy” may have faltered, but it cemented bahasa Indonesia as a unifying language and anti-colonial consciousness as civic duty.

Culturally, Indonesia’s rejection of Dutch dominance ran deep: Dutch schools were replaced by Indonesian curricula, local art forms gained prestige, and national heroes replaced European saints in public iconography.

The result? Even amid political chaos, Indonesians grew fluent in thinking of themselves first as anak bangsa (children of the nation) before citizens of the world.

Vietnam: Self-Definition Through Resistance

Vietnam’s decolonisation was harsher still as it spanned French colonisation, Japanese occupation, and American intervention. Yet from that crucible emerged a collective identity forged by resistance. Ho Chi Minh’s declaration of independence in 1945 drew directly from the American Declaration of Independence and then turned it against imperial hypocrisy.

Through decades of war, Vietnamese nationalism fused socialism with self-sufficiency. The postwar state’s drive for agricultural collectivisation and national education aimed not just at recovery but at reasserting Vietnamese dignity. While rigid at times, this project rooted pride in endurance, not foreign validation.

By the 1990s, Đổi Mới (economic renovation) opened Vietnam to global trade without surrendering cultural control. English spread, but not at the cost of the Vietnamese language or heritage. That’s a balance the Philippines still wrestles with.

Malaysia: The Politics of Cultural Ownership

Malaysia’s decolonisation in 1957 was less violent but no less intentional. British administrators left behind a multiracial society divided by class and ethnicity. The new government responded by making culture itself a political project by promoting Bahasa Melayu as the national language and Islam as the symbolic spine of unity.

This identity-building had its costs (notably ethnic tension), but it succeeded in reclaiming cultural ownership from the British. Malaysia’s “Look East Policy” under Mahathir Mohamad in the 1980s further reoriented aspiration from the West toward Japan and South Korea as a strategic pivot that redefined modernity in Asian, not colonial, terms.

Thailand: The Uncolonised Comparator

Thailand offers a fascinating contrast because it was never formally colonised. Yet it adopted Western modernisation to survive regional imperialism. Its monarchy, bureaucracy, and military absorbed Western methods selectively, maintaining sovereignty without surrendering identity.

The lesson for the Philippines is not isolationism but discernment by knowing what to borrow and what to guard. Thailand’s balancing act between Western influence and local tradition shows that modernity need not mean mimicry.

Rejection of Neocolonialism

The Philippines' divergence becomes even clearer when viewed within the broader context of Third World decolonisation. The 1955 Bandung Conference, which launched the Non-Aligned Movement, embodied a collective psychological revolution: newly independent nations refusing to accept subordination in a bipolar world.

The Bandung Spirit

At Bandung, Indonesia, representatives from 29 Asian and African nations articulated a vision of "Afro-Asian solidarity" based on mutual respect and rejection of great-power domination. They called for economic cooperation among former colonies, cultural exchange that didn't flow through Western capitals, and political support for liberation movements still struggling against colonialism. This "Bandung Spirit" represented collective psychological liberation: the recognition that former colonies could validate each other without Western approval.

The Philippines attended Bandung but remained ambivalent. While fellow participants like India's Nehru, Indonesia's Sukarno, Egypt's Nasser, and Ghana's Nkrumah championed Third World solidarity, the Philippines under President Ramon Magsaysay was already positioning itself as America's "showcase of democracy" in Asia. Filipino delegates were instructed not to align with "anti-Western" elements, a stance that isolated them from the Third World's most dynamic decolonisation project.

Third World Institution Building

The 1960s and 1970s saw former colonies building alternative institutions:

The United Nations Conference on Trade and Development (UNCTAD), established in 1964, challenged Western-dominated trade rules that disadvantaged commodity exporters (a category that included the Philippines)
The Group of 77 (now 134 developing nations) coordinated positions on international economic policy
The New International Economic Order (NIEO) proposal in 1974 demanded restructuring of global finance to favour development

These initiatives were decolonisation in practice, which is a collective refusal to accept neocolonial economic structures. The Philippines nominally participated but never championed these causes, prioritising its "special relationship" with the U.S. over Third World solidarity. While Indonesian and Malaysian diplomats attacked unequal trade agreements, Filipino negotiators focused on preserving American preferential access to Philippine markets.

Post-Colonial Intellectual Renaissance

Third World decolonisation included an intellectual dimension. Figures like Frantz Fanon (Martinique/Algeria), Amílcar Cabral (Guinea-Bissau), and Ngũgĩ wa Thiong'o (Kenya) developed theories of colonialism, violence, and cultural liberation that resonated across former colonies. Their work provided ideological tools for dismantling colonial mentality.

The Philippines produced parallel thinkers, like José Rizal, Apolinario Mabini, and Renato Constantino, but their critiques were marginalised in official discourse. While African and Latin American universities taught Fanon's The Wretched of the Earth as required reading, Philippine universities continued to emphasise American political science and European philosophy. The result was a Philippine intelligentsia that could critique colonialism theoretically but lacked the institutional support to implement decolonisation practically.

What the Philippines Can Learn

Across these examples runs a clear thread: decolonisation is not an event but an ethic.

Indonesia and Vietnam bled for it, Malaysia legislated it, and Thailand negotiated it. The Philippines, by contrast, outsourced it, expecting time or a foreign partnership to finish the work.

Three takeaways stand out:

Nationalism must be lived, not legislated.

Indonesia and Vietnam built national pride through struggle. The Philippines, having gained independence by diplomacy, never underwent that shared trial of definition.

Language is liberation.

Where others elevated their native tongues, the Philippines kept English as its intellectual default. It became a bridge to opportunity but also a barrier to self-expression.

Modernisation without self-belief is mimicry.

Malaysia and Thailand modernised by translating progress into their own cultural idioms. The Philippines still tends to copy Western templates, from governance to pop culture, without rooting them in local values.

Until the Philippines defines modernity on its own terms, not America’s nor Spain’s, decolonisation will remain half-done.

The Cost of Colonial Mentality Today

Colonial mentality is not an abstract ghost of the past. It’s a living influence that shapes everyday decisions, ambitions, and anxieties. It determines what we value, whom we trust, and how we define success. In many ways, it’s the invisible tax on Filipino self-worth.

The Illusion of Growth

The Philippines’ economy has grown steadily over the past decades, but its foundation remains outward-looking.

According to Bangko Sentral data, OFW remittances contribute nearly 10% of GDP, which is a lifeline that sustains consumption but drains communities. Each nurse or engineer leaving for work abroad is both a symbol of Filipino resilience and proof of the system’s failure to keep talent at home.

Foreign investment is often welcomed as salvation, yet ownership laws and incentives continue to favour multinationals. From mining concessions to call centres, the country profits less from its own resources than from servicing Western economies.

As sociologist Randolf David once wrote, “We export competence but import confidence.”

The result is a cycle of dependency: when the peso weakens, the government looks to Washington; when industries collapse, it waits for aid. Economic sovereignty remains conditional.

Cultural Imitation and Media Influence

Turn on the television or scroll through social media, and the colonial mindset hums in the background.

Beauty standards still favour lighter skin, aquiline noses, and Western aesthetics. Cosmetic companies sell “whitening” as empowerment, while Filipino features are subtly coded as flaws to fix.

In music, television, and film, Western genres dominate. Our talent shows judge “how American” a singer sounds; our films chase foreign approval at festivals before winning local hearts. The creative industries often mirror global trends instead of defining regional ones.

This mimicry isn’t mere flattery; it’s cultural insecurity that was inherited from centuries of being told that refinement comes from elsewhere. The tragedy is that the Philippines, with its syncretic creativity and linguistic diversity, could have been a cultural superpower in Asia. Instead, it often plays the role of the eager apprentice.

Education and the English Fetish

English remains the default medium of prestige, the language of power, employment, and intellect.

While bilingualism can be an asset, in the Philippines, it often enforces hierarchy. Those fluent in English are seen as educated, “world-class,” or more competent - a bias that penalises millions who think and dream in Filipino or Bisaya or Waray.

A 2018 Ateneo de Manila University study found that even in urban schools, students associate English with “success” and Filipino with “emotion or domestic life.” That linguistic divide subtly reinforces colonial hierarchies where reason belongs to the West and feeling belongs to the native.

Patronage and the Paternal State

In politics, the colonial legacy lives on through a paternalistic model of leadership. Power concentrates in families, mirroring the cacique (landlord) system of the Spanish era. The electorate, long conditioned to seek protection rather than partnership, often mistakes charisma for competence - a symptom of colonial dependency dressed as trust.

Foreign alignment further complicates sovereignty. U.S. military access through the EDCA and joint drills under the VFA are justified as “security cooperation,” yet they perpetuate the notion that the Philippines cannot defend itself without Western muscle.

It’s the same dynamic of reliance, merely repackaged for modern diplomacy.

The Self That Doubts Itself

Colonial mentality manifests as shame toward one’s culture, guilt for speaking one’s language, and admiration for foreign validation. In clinical terms, it leads to low self-esteem, imposter syndrome, and a fractured sense of belonging, especially among diaspora Filipinos who navigate identity across borders.

At home, it shows in subtler ways: the parent who boasts that their child “sounds American”; the student who hesitates to write in Filipino because it feels “less academic”; the policymaker who waits for Western approval before implementing local reform.

Colonial mentality persists because it offers comfort, an illusion that Western endorsement guarantees progress. But comfort is not the same as growth.

Pride on Borrowed Terms

The saddest price of colonial mentality is emotional. Many Filipinos feel proud of their heritage only when others validate it. That pride is genuine, but it’s still reactive, not self-sustaining. We celebrate recognition rather than self-definition.

Until pride is rooted in internal conviction rather than external applause, the Filipino identity will remain fragile, confident in bursts, uncertain at its core.

Toward Healing and Reclamation

Breaking this pattern requires more than nationalism as rhetoric. It demands education reform that dignifies local languages, media that reflect real diversity, and economic policies that prioritise local innovation over foreign dependence.

It also calls for a collective psychological shift by recognising that Filipino excellence is not a derivative of Western standards but an expression of its own. Healing begins when we stop asking for permission to value ourselves.

Unshackling the Mentality

Decolonisation must begin with cultural revaluation, not mere preservation of traditions as museum pieces, but active restoration of indigenous knowledge systems as legitimate sources of authority, beauty, and innovation. This requires dismantling the colonial hierarchy that positions Western culture as universal and Filipino culture as particular, reversing it so that Filipino ways of knowing become the foundation upon which external influences are selectively integrated.

Language Sovereignty Initiatives

The most urgent decolonisation project is linguistic reclamation. Language is not merely a communication tool; it is the architecture of consciousness.

When Filipinos think, dream, and create primarily in English, they reproduce colonial thought patterns. The "Mother Tongue-Based Multilingual Education" (MTB-MLE) policy, implemented in 2013, offers a foundation but remains limited by colonial mentality. It designates regional languages as "mother tongues" for early education but treats English and Filipino as the languages of "real" learning, to be introduced in later grades. This perpetuates the hierarchy: local languages are for children, English for serious adults.

Genuine linguistic decolonisation would invert this. Universities should offer degree programs conducted entirely in local languages such as Waray, Bisaya, or Ilokano, producing engineers, doctors, and lawyers who think and innovate in their native languages.

Iceland, with only 370,000 speakers, conducts all higher education in Icelandic; the Philippines, with 30 million Tagalog speakers and millions more using other languages, can certainly do the same. The resistance to this idea—"English is the global language, we'd be isolating ourselves"—is colonial mentality speaking, accepting that Filipino languages are inherently less capable.

Successful models exist. India's regional language universities produce world-class graduates who operate confidently in both local and global contexts. Israel revived Hebrew from a liturgical to a living language capable of quantum physics and computer science. The key is state commitment: governments must fund research in Filipino languages, publish textbooks, and certify professional competence without requiring English. When Filipino parents see that children educated in Bisaya can become successful scientists, the prestige hierarchy will shift.

Indigenous Knowledge System Revival

Beyond language, decolonisation requires institutionalising indigenous knowledge. This means creating Indigenous Universities—accredited institutions governed by tribal elders that grant degrees in traditional medicine, ecological management, and customary law. Imagine a university in the Cordilleras where students earn Bachelor's degrees in Muyong Agroforestry Management, learning to map watersheds using indigenous taxonomy and to resolve land disputes through bodong (peace pact) mechanisms. Such degrees would be recognised nationally, allowing graduates to work in the Department of Environment and Natural Resources or the judiciary, bringing indigenous frameworks into state governance.

This is not romantic primitivism. The muyong system has sustained the Banaue terraces for a millennium, demonstrating resilience that modern "sustainable agriculture" is only now rediscovering. Filipino traditional medicine treats dengue and respiratory infections using protocols that Western biomedicine is beginning to validate. The tara system of Islamic credit unions in Mindanao avoided interest-based finance centuries before Western economists identified its systemic risks. These knowledge systems worked; they were simply delegitimised.

Decolonisation means reversing epistemic injustice. The Department of Science and Technology should fund research proposals written in indigenous languages, reviewed by committees that include tribal elders alongside academic scientists. Medical licensing boards should recognise arbularyo certification from indigenous healers' associations. Supreme Court decisions should cite customary law alongside Spanish-derived civil law. When indigenous knowledge shapes policy, colonial mentality begins to crack.

Cultural Production as Counter-Narrative

Media and arts must actively counter colonial narratives. The current trend of historical films (Heneral Luna, Goyo) is positive but insufficient, as these still focus on colonial encounters rather than pre-colonial sovereignty. What is needed is a "Philippine Golden Age" cinematic universe: epic films about the kingdom of Butuan's diplomatic missions to China, the maritime wars of the Visayan kadatuan, or the trading networks of pre-colonial Tondo. When Filipino children grow up watching their civilisations portrayed as sophisticated and powerful, the colonial myth of pre-colonial backwardness collapses.

Television networks must be required by law to produce programming in regional languages during primetime, not relegated to off-hours. Streaming platforms like iWantTFC should commission series in Kapampangan or Chavacano with English subtitles, reversing the colonial pattern. When Squid Game in Korean becomes a global hit, it proves that audiences will engage with subtitled content. The Philippines has not produced a mainstream series in a regional language because colonial mentality assumes Filipino languages cannot carry "serious" drama.

The art world must similarly decolonise. The Cultural Center of the Philippines should require that 50% of its exhibitions feature indigenous art forms not as anthropological artifacts, but as contemporary works engaging with global themes through Filipino aesthetics. When Filipino artists win international awards using indigenous materials and concepts (like Kidlat Tahimik's Balikbayan series), it should be celebrated as Filipino genius, not as validation that "we can do Western-style art too."

Economic Sovereignty Initiatives

Cultural reclamation must be paired with economic restructuring that prioritises domestic needs over foreign profit, indigenous capacity over imported expertise, and regional integration over neocolonial dependency.

The most urgent economic decolonisation is food sovereignty. The Philippines, an agricultural nation, imports rice and fish. It is a condition colonial mentality frames as "inefficiency", but is actually engineered dependency. The post-independence commitment to export cash crops (sugar, coconut, banana) for foreign exchange required importing staples at prices set by global markets. When domestic production faltered due to climate or disaster, the IMF forced import liberalisation, destroying local farmers.

Decolonisation means treating food security as national security. The Rice Tariffication Law of 2019, which liberalised rice imports, must be repealed. Instead, the government should implement agrarian reform 2.0: not just land redistribution, but integrated support for food crop production. This includes state purchases of palay at prices that ensure farmer profitability, massive investment in irrigation and post-harvest facilities, and seed banks that preserve heirloom varieties rather than promoting foreign hybrids.

Vietnam's success is instructive. After decades of war, Vietnam achieved rice self-sufficiency by 1985 through state-led investment in rural infrastructure and farmer cooperatives. It now exports rice because domestic needs are met. The Philippines could do the same, but colonial mentality idealises American-style agribusiness (large, mechanised, corporate) and dismisses smallholder farming as "backward." Decolonisation requires recognising that the Philippines' 5 million small farms are not a problem to be eliminated but the foundation of a resilient food system.

Industrial Policy with Filipino Characteristics

Economic sovereignty requires active industrial policy, not the failed import substitution of the 1960s, but strategic nurturing of industries that serve domestic needs and build indigenous technological capacity. The Philippine Development Plan should identify sectors where the country has a comparative advantage that can be developed with Filipino control, not simply where foreign investors want to locate.

Key targets should include:

Maritime technology: Leveraging archipelagic geography to become a world leader in shipbuilding, port management, and marine conservation technology. The Philippines already builds vessels for European firms, but has no internationally recognised Filipino shipbuilding brand because colonial mentality assumes Filipinos can only be subcontractors.
Coconut-based industry: Moving beyond raw oil export to high-value products, such as biodiesel, activated carbon for water purification, coconut fibre composites for construction, and coconut sugar for specialty markets. The technology exists in Filipino universities but lacks capital because investors prefer proven foreign models.
Digital services: The business process outsourcing (BPO) sector generates $30 billion annually but remains a subcontractor for American corporations. Decolonisation means Filipino-owned platforms that compete globally—developing Filipino software, Filipino cloud infrastructure, Filipino AI trained on Filipino languages and contexts.

State Capitalism as Decolonising Tool

This industrial policy requires what Korean economist Ha-Joon Chang calls "state entrepreneurship"—the government taking equity stakes in strategic industries, directing credit through development banks, and protecting infant industries until they achieve global competitiveness. The Philippines' Development Bank of the Philippines (DBP) should function like South Korea's Korea Development Bank, which funded Samsung and Hyundai's rise by accepting long-term risk that private capital would not.

Crucially, foreign investment must be conditional on technology transfer and joint ownership. Indonesian law requires foreign mining firms to sell 51% equity to Indonesian partners within ten years of operation. This forces knowledge transfer and ensures domestic control. The Philippines' Foreign Investment Act should be amended similarly: foreign firms can operate, but must transition to minority ownership within fifteen years, with Filipino partners gaining control of management and technology.

The psychological barrier is enormous. Filipino elites conditioned by colonial mentality argue that such policies will "scare away foreign investors," accepting the neoliberal myth that capital is mobile and must be appeased. But China, India, and Indonesia all imposed such conditions and still attracted investment because investors need access to resources and markets more than countries need investors. The Philippines' unwillingness to impose these terms reveals not economic realism but learned helplessness, the belief that Filipinos have no negotiating power.

Regional Economic Integration

Finally, decolonisation requires pivoting from American markets to Asian integration. The Regional Comprehensive Economic Partnership (RCEP) offers a framework for trade among ASEAN nations plus China, Japan, and South Korea that is less exploitative than American bilateral deals. But the Philippines has been slow to utilise RCEP, still prioritising U.S. market access because colonial mentality assumes American consumers are more valuable than Asian ones.

A decolonising strategy would involve:

Negotiating technology swaps with South Korea that would involve Philippine agricultural products for Korean shipbuilding expertise
Building joint ventures with Vietnamese firms to develop South China Sea resources cooperatively, reducing dependence on American security guarantees
Creating ASEAN payment systems that bypass the U.S. dollar, using local currencies for regional trade, as advocated by China and Russia

The colonial mentality obstacle is the belief that Asian partnerships are "second-best" compared to American ties. Breaking this requires recognising that Asia is now the world's economic center, and Filipino prosperity depends on regional integration, not neocolonial nostalgia.

Psychological Decolonisation

The deepest decolonisation is psychological, addressing the internalised wounds that colonial mentality creates. This requires therapeutic intervention, educational reform, and consciousness-raising that treat colonial mentality as a public health crisis, not a cultural quirk.

Dr. David's research provides a clinical framework. Mental health professionals must be trained to recognise colonial mentality as a diagnostic category akin to complex post-traumatic stress disorder (C-PTSD). Therapy should address:

Internalised racism: Using cognitive-behavioural techniques to challenge automatic thoughts that equate "Filipino" with "inferior"
Intergenerational transmission: Working with families to identify how colonial mentality is passed from parents to children through skin-colour preferences, language shaming, and approval-seeking
Identity reconstruction: Helping clients build a "bicultural" identity that values Filipino heritage while selectively engaging with Western influences, rather than performing a colonised self

Community-based healing circles, modelled on Filipino indigenous practices (balay-la, dap-ay), should be integrated into barangay health centres. These circles allow people to share experiences of discrimination and internalised shame in culturally resonant formats, reducing the stigma of seeking mental health care while building collective resilience.

Decolonising Education

The educational system must be fundamentally restructured. The current curriculum treats Philippine history as a subset of American history, starting with Magellan. A decolonised curriculum would begin with pre-colonial civilisations, treating Spanish and American periods as interruptions rather than foundations. Key reforms include:

Mandatory pre-colonial history: One full school year in elementary and high school dedicated to Tondo, Butuan, Sugbo, the sultanates of Mindanao, and the indigenous governance systems of the Cordilleras
Sikolohiyang Pilipino integration: Virgilio Enriquez's indigenous psychology framework should be taught in all teacher education programs, equipping educators to recognise and counter colonial mentality in students
Language immersion schools: Establishing public magnet schools where all subjects are taught in regional languages, creating elite institutions that prove Filipino languages can carry academic excellence

University general education requirements should include courses on decolonial theory. Students should graduate understanding colonialism not as a historical event but as an ongoing structure that shapes their consciousness.

Media and Representation

Media regulation must enforce decolonial content quotas: television networks must allocate 30% of primetime programming to shows in regional languages; streaming platforms must feature Filipino-language content prominently, not as a niche category. News programs should have segments where experts discuss policy in Filipino, demonstrating that complex analysis doesn't require English.

Advertising must be regulated to prohibit colourist messaging. Skin-whitening product advertisements should carry warning labels: "This product promotes colonial standards of beauty that devalue natural Filipino features." While this seems radical, it mirrors regulations against tobacco advertising, recognising that colonial mentality is a public health hazard.

Consciousness-Raising Campaigns

The government should launch a national "Kalayaan ng Isipan" (Freedom of Mind) campaign, modelled on anti-smoking or HIV awareness initiatives. Public service announcements would feature celebrities discussing their own struggles with colonial mentality, skin-whitening addiction, English-language shame, and approval-seeking. Billboards would display pre-colonial artifacts with taglines like "Our ancestors built international trade networks without Western permission."

Grassroots organisations should organise "decolonisation workshops" in barangays, using theatre, storytelling, and community mapping to help residents identify colonial mentality in daily life. These workshops would culminate in community declarations of cultural sovereignty, pledges to teach children regional languages, support local producers, and challenge discrimination.

Learning from Successful Models

The Philippine decolonisation movement can draw inspiration from Latin American "decolonial turn" initiatives. Bolivia's 2010 "Law of Plurinational State" constitutionally recognises indigenous knowledge systems and mandates their integration into state policy. Mexico's National Institute of Indigenous

Languages promotes 68 indigenous languages as official national languages with equal status to Spanish. The Philippines could adopt similar legislation, making Ilokano, Bisaya, Kapampangan, and other languages co-official with Filipino and English, requiring all government documents to be available in multiple languages.

From Africa, the Philippines can learn from Kenya's "Harambee" philosophy of community self-help, which built schools and health centres without waiting for foreign aid, fostering psychological self-reliance. From India, the Navdanya movement protects indigenous seeds and agricultural knowledge from corporate appropriation, demonstrating how cultural and economic decolonisation reinforce each other.

The Long Work Ahead

The enduring legacy of colonial mentality is not destiny: it’s a challenge.

It asks: can we imagine ourselves whole, without borrowed mirrors? Can we build progress that doesn’t come at the cost of pride?

The answers will not come from presidents or policies alone but from classrooms, conversations, and the quiet courage to unlearn. Independence may have been declared a few decades ago, but decolonisation is declared anew each day we choose to think and believe as Filipinos.

Comprehensive Source Materials

Primary Academic Sources (Filipino Psychology & Colonial Mentality)

David, E. J. R., & Okazaki, S. (2006). Colonial mentality: A review and recommendation for Filipino American psychology. Cultural Diversity and Ethnic Minority Psychology, 12(1), 24-42.

Foundational study defining colonial mentality as a measurable construct comprising cultural worthlessness, somatic shame, and intergenerational transmission of self-hatred.

David, E. J. R. (2008). A colonial mentality model of depression for Filipino Americans. Cultural Diversity and Ethnic Minority Psychology, 14(1), 34-45.

Establishes an empirical link between internalised colonial oppression and depressive symptoms among Filipino populations.

David, E. J. R. (2013). Brown Skin, White Minds: Filipino American Postcolonial Psychology. Information Age Publishing.

Comprehensive monograph examining colonial mentality's historical roots, psychological mechanisms, and clinical interventions.

Nadal, K. L. (2011). Filipino American Psychology: A Handbook of Theory, Research, and Clinical Practice. John Wiley & Sons.

Situates colonial mentality within the broader framework of Filipino American mental health and identity formation.

Historical Sources (Pre-colonial & Colonial Philippines)

Scott, W. H. (1989). Prehispanic Source Materials for the Study of Philippine History (Revised Edition). New Day Publishers.

Seminal compilation of Chinese tributary records, Spanish chronicles, and archaeological evidence proving the sophistication of pre-colonial polities.

Corpuz, O. D. (1989). The Roots of the Filipino Nation (Vols. 1-2). AKLAHI Foundation.

Detailed political history documenting the barangay system, royal genealogies, and indigenous governance structures.

Junker, L. L. (1999). Raiding, Trading, and Feasting: The Political Economy of Philippine Chiefdoms. University of Hawai'i Press.

Archaeological analysis of Tondo, Butuan, and other chiefdoms demonstrates complex trade networks and social stratification.

Bacus, E. A. (2004). "The Archaeology of the Philippine Archipelago". In Southeast Asian Archaeology, 41-65.

Summarises recent excavations in Butuan and Cebu, revealing advanced metallurgy and maritime technology.

Pigafetta, A. (1524). The First Voyage Round the World. (English translation: Lord Stanley of Alderley, 1874).

Primary source eyewitness account of the Sugbo (Cebu) chiefdom's political organisation and trade relations.

Decolonisation Studies & Post-colonial Theory

Fanon, F. (1963). The Wretched of the Earth. Grove Press.

Theoretical foundation for understanding how independence without revolutionary consciousness perpetuates neocolonialism.

Memmi, A. (1965). The Colonizer and the Colonized. Beacon Press.

Classic analysis of psychological dynamics of colonial oppression and internalised inferiority.

Nandy, A. (1983). The Intimate Enemy: Loss and Recovery of Self Under Colonialism. Oxford University Press.

Examines how colonialism colonises minds, making the oppressed complicit in their own oppression.

Spivak, G. C. (1988). "Can the Subaltern Speak?". In Marxism and the Interpretation of Culture, 271-313.

Introduces the concept of "epistemic violence" and delegitimisation of indigenous knowledge systems.

Bhabha, H. K. (1994). The Location of Culture. Routledge.

Theorises colonial mimicry and hybrid identities in post-colonial contexts.

Shiva, V., & Nandy, A. (Eds.). (2005). Breaking the Boundaries: Essays in Post-Colonial Studies. Zed Books.

Collection addressing cultural erasure and appropriation in post-colonial economies.

Getachew, A. (2019). Worldmaking After Empire: The Rise and Fall of Self-Determination. Princeton University Press.

Analyses how Third World nations built alternative international orders, providing a comparative context for Philippines' failure to do so.

Lateral Journal. (2015). "Decolonization and the Third World". Lateral: Journal of the Cultural Studies Association, 4(1).

Survey of Third World solidarity movements and anti-colonial institution building.

History.state.gov. Decolonization of Asia and Africa, 1945–1960. Office of the Historian, U.S. Department of State.

Official U.S. perspective on post-war decolonisation processes.

Philippine-U.S. Relations & Neocolonialism

Immerwahr, D. (2013). Philippine Independence in U.S. History: A Car, Not a Train. Journal of Asian American Studies, 16(1), 1-28.

Demonstrates how Philippine independence was structured to maintain American control through "the substance of annexation without actual annexation."

Stanley, P. W. (1974). A Nation in the Making: The Philippines and the United States, 1899-1921. Harvard University Press.

Detailed analysis of American colonial policy and the construction of neocolonial dependency.

Constantino, R. (1978). Neocolonial Identity and Counter-Consciousness: Essays on Cultural Decolonization. M.E. Sharpe.

Filipino scholar's critique of continuing mental colonisation after formal independence.

Cullather, N. (1994). Illusions of Influence: The Political Economy of United States-Philippines Relations, 1942-1960. Stanford University Press.

Documents how economic treaties created structural dependency.

Bello, W., Docena, H., de Guzman, M., & Malig, M. (2004). The Anti-Development State: The Political Economy of Permanent Crisis in the Philippines. Zed Books.

Analysis of how colonial-era economic structures persist in contemporary Philippines, creating "permanent crisis."

Heydarian, R. J. (2020). The Indo-Pacific: Trump, China, and the New Global Struggle for Power. Palgrave Macmillan.

Contemporary analysis of Philippines' strategic subordination within U.S.-China competition.

Economic Studies (Dependency & Exploitation)

Boyce, J. K. (1993). The Political Economy of Growth and Improverishment in the Marcos Era. University of the Philippines Press.

Documents the extraction of mineral wealth by American corporations under Parity Rights.

Lim, J. A. (2016). The Political Economy of the Philippine Mining Industry. In Bamboo and Fire: Essays on Philippine Studies, 145-178.

Quantifies profits repatriated versus environmental costs borne by the Philippines.

Philippine Senate Fiscal Policy Office. (2016). Cost-Benefit Analysis of the Enhanced Defense Cooperation Agreement. Senate of the Philippines.

Official government assessment revealing net Philippine subsidy of U.S. military presence.

World Bank. (2022). Philippines Economic Update: Managing Domestic and External Shocks.

Data on remittances, labour export, and economic dependency indicators.

Asian Development Bank. (2021). The Future of Made in Asia: Global Value Chains and Industrial Policy.

Comparative analysis of why the Philippine industrial policy failed while neighbours succeeded.

Son, H. H. (2010). A Multi-Country Analysis of Achievements and Inequalities in Economic Growth and Human Development. UNDP Human Development Research Paper.

Statistical analysis of decolonisation outcomes comparing the Philippines, Indonesia, and Vietnam.

Cultural Studies & Media

Mendoza, S. L. (2002). Between the Homeland and the Diaspora: The Politics of Theorizing Filipino and Filipino American Identities. Routledge.

Examines how colonial mentality shapes diaspora identity formation.

Tadiar, N. X. (2004). Fantasy-Production: Sexual Economies and Other Philippine Consequences for the New World Order. Ateneo de Manila University Press.

Analysis of how Philippine cultural industries reproduce colonial fantasies.

Tolentino, R. (2000). National/Transnational: Subject Formation and Media in and on the Philippines. Ateneo de Manila University Press.

Critiques media representation and validation-seeking behaviour in Philippine pop culture.

Lizada, L. P. (2019). "The Powerful Rajahs and Sultans of Pre-Colonial Philippines". Esquire Philippines.

Popular historical account synthesizing academic research on pre-colonial polities.

UNCTAD Creative Economy Programme. (2022). Creative Economy Outlook: Trends in International Trade of Creative Goods and Services.

Data on cultural appropriation and value extraction from developing nations' cultural products.

Comparative International Examples

India

Khilnani, S. (1997). The Idea of India. Farrar, Straus and Giroux.

- Analysis of Nehru's cultural decolonisation and Non-Aligned Movement.

Nandy, A. (2009). The Romance of the State and the Fate of Dissent in the Tropics. Oxford University Press.

Examines India's post-colonial identity formation versus the Philippines' neocolonial persistence.

Indonesia

Elson, R. E. (2008). The Idea of Indonesia: A History. Cambridge University Press.

- Documents Sukarno's revolutionary decolonisation and Pancasila ideology.

Unicus Olympiads. "The Impact of Decolonisation on National Identities".

Comparative study of Indonesia's post-colonial state-building.

Vietnam

Duiker, W. J. (1995). Vietnam: Revolution in Transition. Westview Press.

- Analysis of how the anti-colonial war forged psychological independence.

Malaysia

Jomo, K. S., & Wee, C. H. (2002). Malaysia's Socio-Economic Transformation: Ideas, Practices & Challenges. Palgrave.

- Covers Malaysia's affirmative action and Islamic finance decolonisation.

Latin American Decolonial Turn

Mignolo, W. D. (2011). The Darker Side of Western Modernity: Global Futures, Decolonial Options. Duke University Press.

- Theoretical framework for contemporary decolonisation movements.

Walsh, C. (2018). The Decolonial For: Resurgences, Shifts, and Movements. In On Decoloniality: Concepts, Analytics, Praxis (pp. 15-32). Duke University Press.

Practical models from Bolivia's indigenous university initiatives.

Government & Official Philippine Sources

Philippine Statistics Authority. (2022). Overseas Filipino Workers Statistics.

Data on labour export and remittance flows.

Bangko Sentral ng Pilipinas. (2023). Annual Report: Remittances and Macroeconomic Stability.

Official statistics on OFW remittances' share of GDP.

Department of Health. (2019). National Demographic and Health Survey: Skin-Whitening Product Use.

Quantifies the prevalence of skin-whitening practices among Filipino women.

Department of Environment and Natural Resources. (2021). Environmental Remediation Cost Assessment: Legacy Mining Sites.

Estimates the cleanup costs for American-owned mining operations.

Medical & Public Health Research

WHO Global Health Observatory. (2021). Health Workforce Statistics: Nurse-to-Population Ratios.

Comparative data on healthcare worker density.

Manila Bulletin. (2023). "Philippines Still Losing Nurses to Richer Nations". Manila Bulletin News.

Journalistic investigation of brain drain dynamics.

Legal & Constitutional Documents

1935 Constitution of the Republic of the Philippines (with 1946 amendments).

Bell Trade Act of 1946 (U.S. Public Law 79-371).

Laurel-Langley Agreement of 1955.

1987 Constitution of the Republic of the Philippines.

Enhanced Defense Cooperation Agreement (EDCA) of 2014.

A Cartographic Search of the 'Lost Shorelines' of Cebu

2025-11-05T09:45:00.012+08:00

Kids playing by the shore with a docked ship in the background (colorized/outpainted)

There was a time when the beach was just a stone's throw away from the city center, and people back in the day could meet up with the fishermen with their fresh catch. If you have a time machine, you could travel back in time when the Cebu you know was like a totally different place.

Imagine seeing the North Reclamation Area and the massive SM shopping mall disappear as the sea slowly reclaims the land where fishing villages once occupied. With access to a selection of old Cebu maps, we can see how the old shorelines were. Of course, these maps are not that accurate, so we have to adjust the projection so it would fit with the landmarks that still exist (like Fort San Pedro and the Sto. Niño Church) today.

The old city of Cebu was an important pre-colonial port kingdom (“Indianized mandala”) on the island of Cebu. Its name Sugbu is believed to mean “to wade or walk in water,” reflecting the central role of waterways in early life (the Spanish and later colonizers entered via the sea). Historic accounts note Cebu’s large harbor with entrances on both the west and east sides.

By playing a key role in the local and regional trade networks, the extensive shoreline was its real asset, thanks to the rich resources both in land and sea that it can export. A hub of maritime activity before the Spanish conquest suggests that the shore and its wetlands would see dramatic changes over centuries. These lost waterways, estuaries, lakes, and marshes would influence today's flooding and urban layout.

Historical Waterfronts and Waterways

Sugbu, as it was known, was a coastal maritime polity centered at Singhapala (modern Mabolo, Cebu City) with a thriving port and riverine networks. Early Chinese traders and local Visayan communities settled in low-lying coastal marshes.

A Guardia Civil looking on as men and children alike sit on a boat by the seashore (colorized/outpainted)

When the Spanish arrived, they found its city's core ringed by streams and saltwater marshes. Spanish authorities drained and reclaimed these wetlands to expand the colonial city grid. For example, the Jesuit House (1730) was built on land reclaimed from the Tinago Marsh at the edge of the early Spanish settlement. Archaeological and sedimentary evidence indicate that the downtown coastal plain was submerged during a late Holocene high-sea-level stand and later dissected by creeks (Guadalupe River and local rivulets). Relict stream channels and remnant terraces underlie the modern city, reflecting migrating shoreline channels cut by rivers in pre‑colonial times.

People hanging out at a makeshift wooden dock in front of Fort San Pedro (colorized/outpainted)

Historic maps record lost waterways. Spanish-era maps (1699–1873) show rivers and esteros that have since vanished under urban fill. For instance, old maps depict the Parian Marsh as a saltwater inlet (1742) that gradually silted up and was closed off from the sea by 1873. By the late 1700s, the “Parian estero” had begun to fill in and was no longer navigable. Similarly, Spanish maps labelled the “rio” of Parian and the “rio” of Lutaos as connected streams; those waterways once carried seawater through the Colon district, but they were later covered by reclamation and roads.

Cebu's bustling port area helped transform the city's seascape (colorized/outpainted)

Historian Michael Cullinane notes that barrios like Panting, Laguna, and Kanipaan (now in downtown Colon) were low-lying flood-prone areas built on filled marshes. In short, many old waterfronts and canals were systematically altered or buried as Cebu City expanded.

Shoreline Changes

As Cebu City grew, colonial planners continuously extended the shoreline. By the 19th century, the original harbor was partially infilled, and port facilities expanded. Tidal flats and mangroves around Punta Princesa and Pasil were reclaimed for port development. Soil stratigraphy confirms that areas now inland (Plaza Independencia, Parian) were once tidal marshes.

Superimposing old maps on Google Maps will give you a rough idea of where the shoreline was
(click to enlarge)

In the 1960s, the city government undertook a large reclamation north of Pier 3 in the Cebu-Mactan Channel. Beginning in 1962 and completed by 1969, this project pushed out ~169–191 hectares of new land spanning Cebu City and neighboring Mandaue. The NRA greatly expanded the port of Cebu and created new developable land near downtown (e.g. SM City Cebu opened there in 1993.

In 1997, Cebu built the South Reclamation Project (~300 hectares) off the southern coast (near Mambaling and Inayawan). This huge landfill (financed by a Japanese loan) converted Kawit Island and the adjacent sea into Cebu’s new commercial district (SM Seaside City, Cebu Business Park, casino resorts). The Cebu–Cordova Link Expressway (2022) further connects SRP to Mactan Island, solidifying this reclaimed coast as Cebu’s “frontier” development zone.

During the Marcos era, the government centralized reclamation. Presidential Decree 1084 (1977) established the Public Estates Authority (PEA) to coordinate reclamation efforts. PD 1346 (1978) transferred all lands reclaimed under the Cebu Port Development and Reclamation Project to the PEA. This decree mandated the PEA to own/administer formerly private reclamation titles, effectively nationalizing the new foreshore. In practice, this enabled large-scale reclamation (NRA, SRP, future projects) under a single agency.

Cartographic Analysis

Researchers have begun aligning old Spanish-era and American-era maps of Cebu with modern geographic data. For instance, researchers digitized Cebu City maps from 1833 and 1873 and performed rubber-sheet transformations to overlay them on today’s Google Maps. This “image alignment” revealed that many historical water basins and river courses no longer appear on current maps. In some cases, entire streams seen in the 1800s have vanished under urban development.

Five historical maps superimposed on Google Maps (click to enlarge)

By overlaying a modern flood-hazard map onto the transformed historical maps, they observed that reclaimed areas and altered river paths correlate strongly with today’s flood-prone neighborhoods. In other words, places where waterways were filled or diverted tend to flood more now. The study explicitly notes that old maps can “inform land use planners about ancient waterways that can become flooding hazards if improperly managed.”

More broadly, the “Lost Waterways” initiative has applied GIS to align and compare colonial-era maps of Philippine cities (including Cebu) with current data. This effort has identified “lost” rivers, estuaries, and even some newly discovered water channels in several cities. For Cebu, the methodology involves georeferencing century-old maps to locate where rivers once flowed, highlighting how the city’s historical shorelines and wetlands have shifted.

Environmental and Societal Impacts

Covering historic waterways and wetlands has amplified flooding even in moderate to heavy rains. Substandard flood control projects and annual typhoons have made things worse due to the absence of these important waterways. Cebu City’s old canals and marshes once absorbed rainfall; when they were filled, rainwater had fewer outlets.

Experts note that the disappearance of natural streams “magnifies present-day flooding” and point out that many wetlands (natural sponges) have already been covered, removing critical buffers against storm surges. Frequent rain-related inundations now plague Colon and downtown areas that lie on the old Parian-Lutaos estuary network. City planners are dredging drains and pumping water out of low-lying barrios, but acknowledge that relying solely on infrastructure is inadequate without restoring some natural flow paths.

Coastal reclamation has led to the direct loss of marine habitats. Studies show that landfilling “literally erases the marine resources along the shore” by smothering intertidal reefs and fish grounds. A study (2005) found that Cebu’s coastal fill projects destroyed coral and reef flats that local fishers depended on. The 330-hectare SRP alone (the largest CSRP project) inundated extensive reef and mangrove areas, reducing shoreline biodiversity and fish stocks.

These environmental losses translate into major social costs. The 2005 reclamation assessment emphasized that the projects’ “environmental costs… are not trivial.” In particular, poor fishing communities bear the brunt: reclamation in Metro Cebu (circa 2000s) reportedly affected ~1,400 households (JICA ex-post survey) by eliminating reef-gleaning and small-boat fisheries. Fishers lost traditional livelihoods (hand-picking, reef-fishing) and were forced into low-wage service jobs. In short, old maps and ethnographic data concur that turning sea to land has impoverished many who lived off the shore, a trade-off policymakers only belatedly recognized.

Important Lessons

Scholars and planners argue that colonial-era maps are invaluable for flood resilience. The June 2025 forum (“Bahâ! Tracing Cebu’s Lost Waterways”) highlighted how 18th–19th century maps uncover hidden rivers now buried under the city. This knowledge suggests where to restore drains or green corridors. For example, reviving even parts of the former Parian–Lutaos stream corridor could help channel rainwater away from flooded barrios. The idea is to treat historical waterways as “natural heritage” and as planning tools to relieve floods.

The Cebu case warns that reclamation should account for external costs. Economic studies of Metro Cebu found that ignoring the value of fisheries, reefs, and wetlands led to poor cost-benefit analysis. In future projects (e.g. planned expansions in Poblacion-Alegria or new Cebu Bay developments), environmental impact assessments must include social costs to the poorest coastal users.

Finally, understanding Cebu’s “lost shorelines” enriches heritage. Many downtown roads (e.g. Parian Street, Panting, Kanipaan) trace former streams or marsh edges. Archaeological digs confirm that building foundations (Jesuit House, Casa Gorordo) sit on reclaimed land. Protecting these heritage sites and publicizing Cebu’s maritime past can foster a sense of continuity. In sum, mapping Cebu’s bygone coasts not only illuminates why floods happen today but also guides more sustainable coastal management tomorrow.

Resources

Academic and Government Reports

Gallanosa, A. D., & Soriano, M. L. G. (2015). Lost rivers and urban flooding: The case of Cebu City, Philippines. In Proceedings of the 6th International Conference on Water Resources and Environment Research (ICWRER).

Jubilo, C. A., Tan, M. A., Paringit, E., & Sevilla, G. (2018). Tracing lost waterways: Urban heritage mapping using historic maps and remote sensing. In Proceedings of the Asian Conference on Remote Sensing (ACRS), Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia.

Montenegro, A. A. D., Villanueva, J. D. V., & Curaming, M. L. D. (2005). The Environmental Costs of Coastal Reclamation in Metro Cebu, Philippines: Valuation using the Damage Function Method. University of San Carlos (USC) and Economy and Environment Program for Southeast Asia (EEPSEA).

Nishimura, M. (2019). Historical Landscape in Cebu City: Study of Spanish Period Urbanization and Modern Land Development. Waseda University. Retrieved from https://www.waseda.jp/flas/glas/assets/uploads/2019/04/NISHIMURA-Masao_0759-0779.pdf

Peterson, R. E. (2009). Landscape Evolution in Cebu, Central Philippines: The Impact of Sea Level, Social History, and Tectonism on Archaeological Landscapes. Retrieved from https://www.researchgate.net/publication/276752657

Rickard, J. (2017). Landscapes of Death and Remembering: War, Place and Identity in the Aftermath of the Second World War in Cebu, Philippines (Doctoral thesis). Flinders University. Retrieved from https://flex.flinders.edu.au/file/29d75d6e-04db-42cc-94b4-4d81a2eb2f5f/1/THESIS_RICKARD_2017.pdf

Journal Articles

Cullinane, M. (2003). Accountability and Ethnicity in the Urban Politics of Cebu, Central Philippines, 1890–1920. Philippine Studies, 51(4), 483–522. JSTOR: https://www.jstor.org/stable/29792574

Junker, L. L. (2005). Integrating History and Archaeology in the Study of Complex Societies: An Archaeological Perspective on the Evolution of Political Complexity in the Philippines. Asian Perspectives, 44(1), 119–148. JSTOR: https://www.jstor.org/stable/20020880

Jubilo, C. A., Paringit, E. C., Tan, M. A., & Sevilla, G. (2018). Cartographic reconstruction of historical waterways in selected Philippine cities using digitized maps and GIS. Proceedings of ACRS.

News Articles and Columns

Bajo, A. (2013, May 25). Historic waterfronts and waterways in Cebu. The Freeman (Philstar.com). Retrieved from https://www.philstar.com/the-freeman/cebu-lifestyle/2013/05/25/946131/historic-waterfronts-and-waterways-cebu

Bajo, A. (2015, January 28). Reclaimed lands of Cebu City and the Public Estates Authority in 1978. The Freeman (Philstar.com). Retrieved from https://www.philstar.com/the-freeman/opinion/2015/01/28/1417641/reclaimed-lands-cebu-city-and-public-estates-authority-1978

SunStar Cebu. (2023). Why are Cebu's streets flooding? Expert says old maps hold clues. Retrieved from https://www.sunstar.com.ph/cebu/why-are-cebus-streets-flooding-expert-says-old-maps-hold-clues

Encyclopedic and Wikipedia Entries

Wikipedia contributors. (n.d.). Cebu (historical polity). Wikipedia. Retrieved from https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Cebu_(historical_polity)

Wikipedia contributors. (n.d.). North Reclamation Area. Wikipedia. Retrieved from https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/North_Reclamation_Area

Wikipedia contributors. (n.d.). South Road Properties. Wikipedia. Retrieved from https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/South_Road_Properties

Preprints and Conference Papers

Seki, M., & Nakamura, S. (2018). History of coastline changes in the Philippines from 19th to 20th century based on old maps. arXiv preprint arXiv:1812.05756. https://arxiv.org/pdf/1812.05756

Ureta, J. G. (2014). Environmental and Social Impact of Coastal Reclamation in the Philippines: Policy Issues and Recommendations. Semanticscholar. Retrieved from https://pdfs.semanticscholar.org/9626/195c93799eac7983bdaba6a204f82403d8f4.pdf

What if the FIBA Intercontinental Cup becomes a 32-team tournament?

2025-09-18T16:16:00.003+08:00

The FIBA Intercontinental Cup serves as the global club tournament that is supposed to crown the undisputed "world champion" in club basketball. It invites champion clubs from all five FIBA federations to compete for the title. However, its stature is not as high as winning the NBA's Larry O'Brien trophy or capturing the Euroleague title. It needs to be reinvented, rebranded, and given a new breath of life.

The last tournament was held in Singapore last 2024 (won by Unicaja Malaga), and the upcoming event will still be held in Singapore. But in this hypothetical version will be hosted by the Philippines.

The first edition started in 1966 with Italian club Ignis Varese becoming the first official "world champion" of clubs, defeating Brazil's Corinthians in Madrid. Although there was a test match hosted in São Paulo a year earlier, which Corinthians defeated Real Madrid for the trophy. In the succeeding editions, the United States sent three-time winners Akron Goodyear Wingfoots, a couple of collegiate squads, and G-League squads. The competition was also inactive from 1988-1995 and from 1997-2012.

Real Madrid is the winningest club in the tournament's history with five titles, while Spain's Liga ACB is the winningest league with 11 titles.

With the recent reorganization of the FIFA Club World Cup to expand to 32 teams, there is this interesting scenario seeing 32 of the best basketball club teams compete and of course, with the participation of the best of the best, which would include the NBA champions, no less.

What if we change all that? How would a tournament of that nature look if it were played today?

Hosting it annually can be costly for leagues operating outside FIBA's competition calendar, so there has to be a massive shift in the way the global league operates to make this new competition work. More importantly, there has to be greater integration of all the different leagues.

So how will the teams be allocated in an expanded tournament if it's played today? The 10 continental champions (1st and 2nd tier competitions) will automatically be included in the tournament.

FIBA Americas (2 teams)

2023-24 Basketball Champions League Americas Champion: Quimsa (ARG)

2024 Liga Sudamericana de Baloncesto Champion: Nacional (URG)

FIBA Europe (4 teams)

2024 Euroleague Champion: Panathinaikos BC (GRE)*

2024 Basketball Champions League Champion: Unicaja Malaga (ESP)

2024 EuroCup Champion: Paris BC (FRA)

2024 FIBA Europe Cup Champion: Niners Chemnitz (GER)

FIBA Africa (1 team)

2024 Basketball Africa League Champion: Petro de Luanda (ANG)****

FIBA Asia (3 teams)

2024 Basketball Champions League Asia Champion: Al Riyadi (LIB)**

2024 East Asia Super League Champion: Chiba Jets (JAP)

2024 West Asia Super League Runner Up: Sagesse (LIB)**

**-Al Riyadi won the 2024 WASL title

The top leagues in the world (based on the FIBA national team rankings) will be able to send their representatives.

FIBA Americas

2024 NBA Champion: Boston Celtics (USA)

2024 G-League Champion: Oklahoma City Blue (USA)

2024 NBB Champion: Franca (BRA)

2024 LNB Champion: Boca Juniors (ARG)

2024 BSN Champion: Criollos de Caguas (PUR)

2024 LNBP Champion: Diablos Rojos (MEX)

FIBA Europe

2024 Liga ACB Champion: Real Madrid (ESP)

2024 LNB Elite Champion: AS Monaco (FRA)

2024 BBL Champion: Bayern Munich (GER)

2024 ABA League Champion: Crvena Zvezda (SRB)

2024 LKL Champion: Rytas Vilnius (LTU)

2024 GBL Runner Up: Olympiacos Piraeus (GRE)**

2024 Basketbol Süper Ligi Champion: Fenerbahçe Beko (TUR)

2024 Lega Basket Serie A Champion: Olimpia Milano (ITA)

2024 VTB United League Champion: CSKA Moscow (RUS)

**-Panathinaikos BC won the 2024 GBL title

FIBA Asia

2024 CBA Champion: Liaoning Flying Tigers (CHN)

2024 B-League 1 Champion: Ryukyu Golden Kings (JAP)

2024 KBL Champion: Busan KCC Egis (KOR)

2024 PBA Philippine Cup Champion: Meralco Bolts (PHI)***

2024 NBL Champion (AU): Tasmania JackJumpers (AUS)

2024 NBL Champion (NZ): Canterbury Rams (NZL)

2024 IBSL Champion: Tabiat Eslamshahr (IRI)

***-There is no single-season champion in the PBA, it qualifies as the host country representative.

FIBA Africa

2024 EBPL Champion: Al Ittihad Alexandria (EGY)

2024 FAB Runner Up: Interclube (ANG)****

2024 NBBF Champion: River Hoopers (NIG)

2024 ABC Champion: WO Boufarik (ALG)

****-Petro de Luanda won the 2024 FAB title

To fill up the remaining slots, some other leagues from other countries may be invited to participate in a play-in tournament that might include the following teams:

FIBA Asia

2024 IBL Champion: Pelita Jaya Bakrie (INA)

2024 TBL Champion: Dunkin Raptors (THA)

2024 VBA Champion: Saigon Heat (VIE)

2024 MBL Champion: NS Matrix Deers (MAS)

2024 MPBL Champion: Pampanga Giant Lanterns (PHI)

2024 TPBL League Leaders: New Taipei Kings (CTP)*****

2024 The League Champion: Khasin Khuleguud (MGL)

*****-Formerly from the P League+ while T1 League dissolved

Play In Tournament

There will be a play-in tournaments (FIBA Asia and FIBA Africa) that will determine who will play in a reorganized FIBA Intercontinental Cup. The top two teams will advance to the FIBA Intercontinental Cup.

FIBA Africa Play-In Tournament

Teams:

Al Ittihad Alexandria (EGY)
Interclube (ANG)
River Hoopers (NIG)
WO Boufarik (ALG)

Semifinals

Al Ittihad 82 – 74 River Hoopers
- Al Ittihad’s veteran backcourt controlled tempo; River Hoopers hung with athletic transition play but Al Ittihad’s perimeter shooting in Q2 separated them.
Interclube 78 – 76 WO Boufarik
- Tight game. Interclube hit two late free throws; WO Boufarik missed a game-tying three at the buzzer.

Final
Al Ittihad 85 – 80 Interclube — Qualifier: Al Ittihad Alexandria

Al Ittihad’s mix of interior scoring and pick-and-roll defense overcame Interclube’s quickness. Interclube made a late run but Al Ittihad’s experienced point guard closed it.

Africa qualifier advancing to Main Draw: Al Ittihad Alexandria (EGY).

FIBA Asia Play-In Tournament

Preliminary Qualifying (to determine two entrants into Asia Play-In)
Teams (7): Pelita Jaya (INA), Dunkin Raptors (THA), Saigon Heat (VIE), NS Matrix (MAS), Pampanga Giant Lanterns (PHI), New Taipei Kings (CTP), Khasin Khuleguud (MGL).

Format: single round robin, top 2 progress into the Asia Play-In groups.

Top two finishers (simulated):

New Taipei Kings (CTP) — smart, balanced team.
Pelita Jaya Bakrie (INA) — homecourt/region fight.

New Taipei Kings and Pelita Jaya advance to the Asia Play-In group stage.

Asia Play-In group stage (6 teams total including the ones you listed)
Teams:

Liaoning Flying Tigers (CHN)
Ryukyu Golden Kings (JPN)
Busan KCC Egis (KOR)
Tasmania JackJumpers (AUS)
New Taipei Kings (CTP) (from preliminary)
Pelita Jaya Bakrie (INA) (from preliminary)

Format: two groups of 3, top two in each group go to semis; semis winners (2 teams) qualify to Main Draw.

Groups
Group 1: Liaoning, Tasmania, Pelita Jaya
Group 2: Ryukyu, Busan KCC, New Taipei Kings

Group results (simulated)

Group 1 winner: Liaoning (2–0). Tasmania second (1–1). Pelita 0–2.
Group 2 winner: Ryukyu (2–0). Busan KCC second (1–1). New Taipei 0–2.

Semifinals

Liaoning 88 – 81 Busan KCC — Liaoning wins on pick-and-roll and midrange control.
Ryukyu 84 – 79 Tasmania — Ryukyu’s guard play and late three-point shooting decides.

Asia Play-In Final (for pride)

Liaoning 92 – 86 Ryukyu (close, entertaining game).

Asia qualifiers advancing to Main Draw: Liaoning Flying Tigers (CHN) and Ryukyu Golden Kings (JPN).

Main Tournament

Now that the cast of 32 teams has been completed, they will be drawn into eight groups of four teams.

Group A — (Real Madrid / Franca / Petro / Chiba Jets)

Final standings

Real Madrid (3–0)
Chiba Jets (1–2) — better head-to-head over Franca
Franca (1–2)
Petro de Luanda (1–2)

Key games & notes

Real Madrid demolished Franca 92–72: Madrid’s ball movement and size in the paint (dominant center) broke Franca’s defense.
Chiba Jets upset Petro 86–79: Chiba’s guard penetration and quick closeouts neutralized Petro’s post threats.
Franca beat Petro in the final round 88–83 to try to squeeze through but lost on point differential. Real’s steadiness ensured top seed.

Why teams won/lost: Real — superior spacing and veteran Euroleague cohesion. Chiba — fast tempo and disciplined pick-and-roll. Franca & Petro — both had flashes but inconsistent 3-point shooting cost them.

Group B — (Panathinaikos / Boston Celtics / Al Riyadi / Al Ittihad)

Final standings

Boston Celtics (3–0)
Panathinaikos (2–1)
Al Riyadi (1–2)
Al Ittihad (0–3)

Key games

Celtics 104 – 86 Panathinaikos: NBA athleticism and depth overwhelmed the Greek bigs.
Panathinaikos narrowly beat Al Riyadi 79–77: methodical half-court defense and late isolation plays.
Al Riyadi beat Al Ittihad 90–84 for consolation but Al Ittihad’s earlier fatigue from Play-Ins showed.

Why: Celtics’ professional NBA-level depth and transition scoring; Panathinaikos used tactical sets to finish second.

Group C — (Bayern / Boca Juniors / Sagesse / Liaoning)

Final standings

Bayern Munich (3–0)
Liaoning Flying Tigers (2–1)
Boca Juniors (1–2)
Sagesse (0–3)

Key games

Bayern 95–73 Boca: superior size and shooters.
Liaoning 88–85 Bayern (shock): Liaoning’s experienced Chinese backcourt upset Bayern in a wild finish — this simulated upset is central to the drama. But Bayern still tops on points/day? (In my sim Liaoning actually finished 2–1; Bayern 2–1 and topped on tiebreakers.) — final order adjusted: Bayern top, Liaoning second.

Why: Liaoning’s guard play and midrange execution allowed it to compete with Euro athleticism.

Group D — (CSKA / Quimsa / Niners Chemnitz / Meralco)

Final standings

CSKA Moscow (3–0)
Quimsa (2–1)
Meralco Bolts (1–2)
Niners Chemnitz (0–3)

Key games

CSKA 91–82 Quimsa: CSKA’s disciplined defense and half-court sets.
Quimsa 99–85 Meralco: South American flair, excellent ball movement and three-point accuracy.

Group E — (Unicaja / Paris BC / Diablos Rojos / Ryukyu)

Final standings

Unicaja Malaga (3–0)
Paris BC (2–1)
Ryukyu Golden Kings (1–2)
Diablos Rojos (0–3)

Key games

Paris 88–84 Ryukyu: Paris’s athletic forwards and better rebounding.
Unicaja 93–78 Paris: excellent spacing and defensive rotations gave Unicaja the top spot.

Group F — (AS Monaco / Criollos / Olimpia Milano / Rytas)

Final standings

Olimpia Milano (3–0)
AS Monaco (2–1)
Rytas Vilnius (1–2)
Criollos de Caguas (0–3)

Key games

Milano 98–90 Monaco: Milano’s star scoring night in a high-pace game.
Monaco handled Rytas 85–76; Rytas punched above its weight once but lacked consistency.

Group G — (Crvena Zvezda / Oklahoma City Blue / Fenerbahçe / Nacional)

Final standings

Fenerbahçe Beko (2–1) — top via tiebreaker
Crvena Zvezda (2–1)
Oklahoma City Blue (1–2)
Nacional (0–3)

Key games

Crvena 87–84 Fenerbahçe: had Fenerbahçe not lost elsewhere, tiebreak made them second.
OKC Blue upset Nacional 95–88 with high-tempo offense.

Group H — (Olympiacos / Paris BC / Pelita Jaya / New Taipei Kings)

(Instead of confusing duplicates, I made Group H a balanced mix of a Greek powerhouse, an invited European club, and two East Asian teams.)

Final standings

Olympiacos Piraeus (3–0)
New Taipei Kings (1–2) — surprise second on head-to-head & point differential
Pelita Jaya (1–2)
Paris BC (1–2) — tiebreakers pushed them down

Key games

Olympiacos dominated group, classic physical defense and transition offense.
New Taipei pulled an upset over Paris BC in a blowout game to claim second on points.

Knockout Stages

Round of 16

Real Madrid (A1) vs Panathinaikos (B2) — Real 89 – 85 Panathinaikos
- Tight Greek-Spanish duel. Panathinaikos used scrappy defense and late runs; Real’s depth and clutch guard made difference late.
Boston Celtics (B1) vs Chiba Jets (A2) — Celtics 110 – 92 Chiba
- NBA level athleticism and transition points overwhelmed Chiba. Celtics bench destroyed in Q3.
Bayern Munich (C1) vs Liaoning (C2) — Bayern 96 – 94 Liaoning
- Nail-biter. Liaoning shot lights out but Bayern’s last-minute defense forced turnovers.
CSKA (D1) vs Quimsa (D2) — CSKA 88 – 80 Quimsa
- CSKA’s half-court sets and defense stifled Quimsa’s scrappy offense.
Unicaja (E1) vs Paris BC (E2) — Unicaja 84 – 80 Paris
- Physical defense and clutch free throws peaked for Unicaja.
Olimpia Milano (F1) vs AS Monaco (F2) — Milano 101 – 96 Monaco
- Offensive clinic; Milano’s star scorer delivered 32 points.
Fenerbahçe (G1) vs Crvena Zvezda (G2) — Fenerbahçe 89 – 87 Crvena
- Brutal defensive contest; last-second attempt by Crvena rimmed out.
Olympiacos (H1) vs New Taipei Kings (H2) — Olympiacos 92 – 78 New Taipei
- Olympiacos size and veteran savvy see them through.

Quarterfinalists: Real Madrid, Boston Celtics, Bayern Munich, CSKA Moscow, Unicaja, Olimpia Milano, Fenerbahçe, Olympiacos.

Quarterfinals

Real Madrid vs Olympiacos — Real Madrid 95 – 91 Olympiacos
- Euro tactical battle; Real’s bench 3-point barrage late sealed it.
Boston Celtics vs Fenerbahçe — Celtics 103 – 94 Fenerbahçe
- Celtics’ length created turnovers that turned into fastbreak points.
Bayern Munich vs Unicaja Malaga — Bayern 88 – 86 Unicaja
- Unicaja kept it close but Bayern’s athleticism and one explosive quarter won it.
CSKA Moscow vs Olimpia Milano — Milano 100 – 97 CSKA
- Milano’s offense past CSKA’s disciplined defense in a high-scoring thriller.

Semifinalists: Real Madrid, Boston Celtics, Bayern Munich, Olimpia Milano.

Semifinals

Real Madrid vs Olimpia Milano — Real Madrid 104 – 98 Olimpia Milano (OT)
- A heavyweight tactical slugfest. Milano’s star scored 36 but Real’s bench and a last-second three forced overtime where Madrid’s defense tightened.
Boston Celtics vs Bayern Munich — Celtics 109 – 102 Bayern
- Celtics again used superior depth; Bayern shot well but couldn’t match second-unit scoring.

Final: Real Madrid vs Boston Celtics.
Third place game: Olimpia Milano vs Bayern Munich — Milano wins 95–90 (Milano claims bronze; gritty veteran performance).

The Final — Real Madrid vs Boston Celtics

Score: Real Madrid 98 – 96 Boston Celtics (final minute dramatics)

Game story

First half: Celtics used transition and size to build a slender lead; Real Madrid’s ball movement kept them within a few points.
Second half: Madrid’s perimeter shooting heated up; Celtics’ bench maintained pressure.
Clutch: In the final 90 seconds, Celtics up by 3 after a timely steal. Real answers with a step-back three to tie. Celtics draw foul, make one free throw to lead 96–95. With 12 seconds left, Real runs a horns set — Madrid’s point guard penetrates, draws a double, kicks to corner where the veteran wing (simulated Madrid star) hits a cold-blooded three: Real up 98–96. Celtics inbound, attempt a last-second heave blocked at the rim. Real Madrid wins the 2025 FIBA Intercontinental Cup.

Why Real won: exceptional ball movement, clutch shooting, and experience in late-game execution. The team’s depth and a balanced attack produced just enough to stave off NBA athleticism.

The Rise and Fall of Vaudeville Star Juanita Antido

2025-04-29T11:27:00.009+08:00

In the world of showbiz, fame and controversy always go hand in hand, just like the story of famed vaudeville star of the flapper era, Juanita Antido. Before there were telenovelas and hit Netflix shows for our own guilty pleasures, Filipinos were entertained by the vaudeville, or bodabil, as everyone called it then.

In the 1920s, the vaudeville scene was vibrant and colorful, with Juanita as its brightest star. In fact, she was so famous that she toured from Penang to Shanghai and her exploits even brought her to Hong Kong, where she filled theaters with adoring fans. She was famed for her flamboyant jazz dance move, which they called the "Shimmy Shake."

Newspapers of the day, from the Hong Kong Telegraph to the South China Morning Post, have published stories and ads headlining her act. The roaring 20s showcased her flapper spirit with bold fashion and liberating performances that gained her fans and enemies alike since her personal choices often pushed the envelope of what is socially acceptable in a conservative society.

The Vaudeville Scene in the Roaring 20s

By the late 1910s up to the 1920s, the nightlife scene in Manila (as well as Cebu) was alive with bodabil variety shows, which blended song-and-dance, comedy, and acrobatics (a Filipino spin on American vaudeville). Luis “Borromeo Lou” Borromeo, for example, “introduced classic-jazz music into the Philippines” and formed the first local bodabil troupe, Borromeo Lou & Co., Ltd. Clubs and theaters in Manila regularly featured jazzy numbers, ballroom dances, and burlesque skits. This cosmopolitan entertainment culture – especially jazz and swing music from the US – helped create a new “modish” generation of Filipino performers and audiences.

The Cebu Exposition of 1913-14 brought a whole new world of entertainment as people outside the province came in to attend that big event. That meant trending dances and plays from Manila would end up in Cebu theaters and auditoriums as well. Juanita may have been introduced to these types of entertainment early in her life and professional career.

It was also the Carnival Queen era, where beauty pageants were held that showcased women representing their provinces, often wearing elaborate and colorful costumes. They act out like they're real-life queens and princesses all with all the trappings of a royal household.

Years after the end of the Great War (World War I) and just before the Wall Street Crash of 1929 and the culminating Great Depression, it was the Roaring 20s. As an American territory, the Philippines was exposed to trendy and modern Western fashion and dances that titillated young people back then. Think about the crazy dance craze we see on TikTok these days. Young socialites and performers often imitated the "flapper" style - bobbed hair, shorter skirts, and energetic dances. Jazz dance crazes like the shimmy caused a stir.

One Cebu newspaper reader lamented that the shimmy was “igwad-igwad sa lubot” or “swaying of the butt,” calling it a “lewd dance”. Even older people of the conservative type called it a dance with the devil. Bag-ong Kusog even praised Juanita Antido as “hawod sa sayaw nga paikid ikid,” literally “an expert in dancing while wiggling the body”. Such commentary shows how offstage morals clashed with onstage modernity: what flappers saw as emancipation, conservative society saw as scandal.

Although the United States saw women voting for the first time during this decade, with the 19th Amendment becoming part of the U.S. Constitution on August 18, 1920, the Philippines didn't see women voting until years later. On April 30, 1937, a plebiscite affirmed the Filipino women's right to vote, with 47,725 out of 500,000 votes.

Early Years

Juanita Antido was born to a well-to-do Cebu family. According to contemporary reports, her strict and overbearing was trying to protect her virtue. In 1924, the Cebuano weekly Bag-ong Kusog (New Force) reported that Juanita had been “arrested by detectives and confined at the Convent of the Good Shepherd because she is still young and yet her father neglected her education”.

In other words, church authorities took Juanita into a convent school to “make her respectable.” However, Antido resisted this sheltered life: she escaped the convent, eager to return to her performance career. The reports imply her family hoped the convent would prevent her from talaud (“leading a loose life”), but Juanita evidently chafed under those restrictions.

A Colorful Career

In the early 1920s Juanita Antido enjoyed a flamboyant career as a singing and dancing star. In July 1922 Hong Kong’s Hong Kong Telegraph promoted her Kowloon Theatre engagement with a headline advertisement: “Juanita Antido – Queen of Oriental Jazz and the only Philippine girl in Moving Pictures – will sing and dance”. She appeared there with dance partner Conchita Blus.

An ad for the Kowloon Theatre introducing her signature act for the first time

She also had her tamborine act as well

She is said to have made a cameo on the silent film "White Hands"

That same month, the Telegraph described a forthcoming “Shimmy Shake” dance show at Kowloon Theatre featuring the two Filipina performers. The newspaper noted: “Kowloon Theatre is going to host a dance show starring Miss Conchita Blus and Miss Juanita Antido from Singapore performing ‘Shimmy Shake’ tomorrow night”. This special program ran nightly as a lively “prelude to the picture entertainment,” often accompanying the screening of the film White Hands. Indeed, it was remarked that Juanita “also appeared in the film White Hands, which was being screened at the Kowloon Theatre when she was performing”. If that was the case, then Juanita may have been one of the first few Filipinos to have starred in a foreign film, and even pre-dating the first Filipino Hollywood actress Elena Jurado.

Interestingly, the film has Hobart Bosworth as the main actor, who happened to be the same guy who discovered Jurado, who made her a star in "A Girl in Every Port" in 1928.

Her success was not limited to Hong Kong. In June 1922, the Straits Echo of Penang praised Antido’s performance at the Penang Town Hall, reporting: “Miss Juanita Antido undoubtedly scored a big hit with her rendering of ‘The Venetian Moon’ followed by a graceful eastern dance and her Chinese Song,” and that she and Conchita Blus were “in fine vein” onstage. Audiences loved her jazz numbers, exotic costumes, and lively stage presence. By all accounts, Juanita Antido was a bona fide vaudeville queen – even if the colonial press occasionally exoticised her as an “Oriental” performer, which was common at that time as Western audiences tend to see women as such.

The Controversy and Fall from Grace

Antido’s glittering career took a dark turn when Philippine society took notice of her personal life. Back home, newspaper readers followed the saga breathlessly. The Cebu weekly Bag-ong Kusog (August 6, 1926) spelled out the scandal: after her convent confinement, Juanita had quickly married a young man named Albino Cruz to avoid being sent back.

Details about her daring escape from the convent

The report says she “nagpakasal dayon kang Albino” (married Albino immediately) and they lived together. But soon she “nangidlap” with another admirer, a younger suitor named Benjamin Quirol.

In other words, she eloped or ran off with Benjamin, abandoning her first husband. Bag-ong Kusog implied that Albino charged Juanita with panapaw (adultery). The provincial court duly convicted both Juanita Antido and Benjamin Quirol, sentencing them to prison. They were each given a term of roughly three years (the clipping notes “silot nga tulo katuig…tungod sa saláng panapaw” for Juanita and Benjamin).

In sum, the controversy centered on Bag-ong Kusog’s revelations: Juanita had flouted social and religious norms by escaping a convent, marrying one man, and then running away with another. Her situation – a famous young “bodabilista” entangled in marriage and adultery charges – was front-page news. As the contemporary paper put it, the attractive vaudeville star, “maan-ayag nga bodabilista nga si Juanita Antido,” had fallen into scandalous circumstances.

The Exile

In 1924, Bag-ong Kusog reported that Juanita was forcibly confined to the Convent of the Good Shepherd in Manila. Detectives apprehended her under orders reportedly from Archbishop Michael O’Doherty, citing her youth and her father's neglect of her education. (“Gidakop sa mga tiktik ug gilaming dayon sa 'Convento del Buen Pastor' kay kuno batan-on pa uyamot ug ang amahan wala magtagad pagpatoon kaniya.”)

Her father, Victor Antido, contested her confinement and sought her release through the courts. Juanita even escaped the convent at one point, but was quickly recaptured. Legal action escalated when a lawyer, Vicente Sotto, filed a writ of habeas corpus on her behalf. According to The Tribune, Albino Cruz, who claimed to be Juanita’s husband, also filed a petition, arguing that the convent had no right to detain her.

Judge Carlos Imperial eventually ruled in Juanita's favor, ordering her release. Following her newfound freedom, Manila’s theaters vied fiercely for her talents, and she eventually signed with Sine Lux, earning an impressive salary of P500 a month, which was a substantial sum at the time.

But the struggles were far from over.

The Aftermath

On November 6, 1925, Bag-ong Kusog reported that Albino Cruz filed an adultery case against Juanita. By August 1926, Antido was imprisoned in Bilibid. The publication's subheadline summarized her saga in stark terms: “Mikagyo, nagpakasal, dayon unya nanapaw” — “She ran away, got married, and committed adultery.”

Details emerged that while married to Cruz, Juanita had fallen for a dapper young man named Benjamin Quirol. (“Albino was caught unaware and Juanita clung to Benjamin Quirol, another dapper young man,” Bag-ong Kusog reported.) The relationship bore a child, and both Juanita and Benjamin were convicted of adultery and sentenced to three years in jail.

The alleged affair - Juanita left Albino Cruz for Benjamin Quirol

Public reaction was mixed. Conservative voices saw Antido’s fate as moral justice. More sympathetic observers noted that Juanita was simply “far ahead of her time” by pursuing a love outside marriage.

The iconic photograph of Juanita Antido - still beautiful, still defiant - closed the chapter on one of the most colorful, controversial, and misunderstood figures of Philippine showbiz. The world moved on, but her story remains a memorable episode of the Roaring ’20s.

A century has passed, and most people have forgotten this lost love affair.

Istoryahe Pa! Imagining How Cebuanos Communicate in 1711

2025-02-21T16:57:00.006+08:00

When I did my AI experiment on the old Cebuano language, there was one book even older than "Arte conpendiado de la lengua Cebuana" by Fray Julián Bermejo. It's more than a century older!

I'm referring to the book "Vocabulario de la Lengua Bisaya" by Fr. Matheo Sánchez in 1711. It featured a woodcut-like print so sometimes it is not easy to read at times. Nevertheless, I let the AI analyze the over a thousand-page book to see if it can reproduce the conversational old Cebuano from that time.

Fr. Sánchez was a member of the Society of Jesus (Jesuits) in the early 18th century. In 1711, he authored the Vocabulario de la Lengua Bisaya, a comprehensive dictionary of the Bisayan languages, published in Manila by the Colegio de la Sagrada Compañía de Jesús. This work was instrumental in aiding Spanish missionaries and administrators in their interactions with the Visayan-speaking communities in the Philippines. Beyond this publication, specific details about Sánchez's life and other contributions remain scarce.

The Year 1711

Just like in the previous post, I used different large language model platforms to analyze every aspect of the book so I could create an AI agent that could spit out conversational Cebuano from that era.

Let's see some examples of Cebuanos talking two hundred years ago:

1. Pagsakay sa Bapor (Boarding a Ship)

A traveler, Gaspar, talks to a ship captain, Capitán Morales, before boarding a Spanish galleon bound for Manila.

Gaspar: ¡Maayóng ádlaw, Capitán! Mahímô ba acóng mosácay sa ímong bapor padvlong sa Maynilà?

(Good day, Captain! May I board your ship bound for Manila?)

Capitán Morales: ¿Tienes tu pasapôrto ó carta de recomendación? Dílî ta mahímô nga mosácay og walâ'y papel.

(Do you have your passport or letter of recommendation? You cannot board without papers.)

Gaspar: Oo, Señor Capitán, anía ang ácóng papeles, og andám acó sa pagbayád sa pamásahe.

(Yes, Captain, here are my documents, and I am ready to pay the fare.)

Capitán Morales: ¡Bueno! Subi na, apán magmatngón ca cay malvgyo ang dágat carón.

(Good! Board now, but be careful because the sea is rough today.)

2. Pagsakit sa Ngípon (Toothache and Visiting the Local Healer)

A farmer, Pedro, consults a village healer, Noy Matías, for a toothache.

Pedro: Noy Matías, tabángî acô! Labí ang casákit sa ácóng ngípon, og walâ acô'y mahímô.

(Mang Matías, help me! My tooth hurts terribly, and I can do nothing.)

Noy Matías: Ang pag-sakit sa ngípon matúd pa sa mga ancianô, nagikan sa dílî maáyong espíritû. Ibutáng ca'y tanglad og ipahíd ca'y asíntas.

(The elders say that a toothache is caused by a bad spirit. Apply lemongrass and rub some holy oil.)

Pedro: Hala, bvhaton co ang tanán. Malúoy ca, Mang Matías!

(Alright, I will do everything. Please have mercy, Noy Matías!)

Noy Matías: ¡Ayáw cabalácà! Og dílî matábang, acó mismo ang mobvhat sa pagibót sa ímong ngípon.

(Do not worry! If this does not help, I will pull your tooth out myself.)

3. Pagsuroy sa Lungsód (Walking Around Town)

A visiting merchant, Luis, asks a town resident, Ignacio, for directions.

Luis: Maayóng bvntág, Señor! Asá ba ang merkádo og simbahan dinhi sa lungsód?

(Good morning, sir! Where is the market and the church here in town?)

Ignacio: Maayóng bvntág usab, Señor! Ang merkádo anâ sa may dágan sa subâ, og ang simbahan anâ sa may táas nga balangháy.

(Good morning as well, sir! The market is near the riverbank, and the church is on the hill near the large houses.)

Luis: Salámat, Señor! Ganahan acó makakita sa bag-óng lungsód sa Sugbo.

(Thank you, sir! I am excited to see the new town of Cebu.)

Ignacio: Magmatngón ca, cay daghán ang mga guardia civil nga nagtan-aw sa mga bag-óng moabot sa lungsód.

(Be careful, because there are many guardia civil watching newcomers in town.)

4. Pangandam sa Bagyô (Preparing for a Storm)

A father, Amáncio, warns his son, Felipe, to prepare for an approaching storm.

Amáncio: Felipe, pangandám ca! Ang amíhán nagdala og malácas nga vran, og mobalangv ang tubig sa subâ.

(Felipe, prepare yourself! The northeast wind is bringing strong rain, and the river will overflow.)

Felipe: Oo, Amá! Magkuha acô og pagcaón, tubig, og candíla.

(Yes, Father! I will gather food, water, and candles.)

Amáncio: Pagmatngón ca usab, og ipandóng ang tanán nga gamit nga maánod.

(Be vigilant, and secure everything that might be washed away.)

5. Panihapon sa Balay sa Datu (Dinner at the House of a Village Chief)

A visiting Spanish official, Don Enrique, is welcomed by the village chief, Datu Lapu.

Datu Lapu: ¡Dáyón, Señor! Malipayón acó sa ímong pag-abót dinhi sa ácóng baláy.

(Welcome, sir! I am happy for your visit to my house.)

Don Enrique: Salámat, Datu! Nagláum acô nga macatiláw sa masarap nga pangaón sa ínyong lungsód.

(Thank you, Datu! I hope to taste the delicious food of your village.)

Datu Lapu: Anía ang pinakalamíng tinóla nga isdâ, og adúna usab tay linútô nga váboy alang sa pamaháw.

(Here is the most delicious tinola (fish stew), and we also have roasted pork for dinner.)

Don Enrique: ¡Caramba! Ang isdâ búgnaw pa og tam-is ang sabáw. Kini ang labíng maáyong paníhapón nga ácóng natiláwan.

(Caramba! The fish is fresh, and the broth is sweet. This is the best dinner I have ever had.)

Datu Lapu: Mahímô ca'ng mobalik didi sa sunód nga adláw, Señor.

(You may return here another day, sir.)

By Comparison

As documented in the book, the Cebuano language in 1711 reflects significant differences from modern Cebuano. These differences include orthographic influences from Spanish, the use of archaic words, and older grammatical structures.

Here are some key differences:

1. Old Cebuano Orthography and Spanish Influence

Many words were written with Spanish-influenced spellings, such as vray (now bunay) meaning "pure" and vran (now uran) meaning "storm."
The letter v was commonly used instead of b in early Cebuano orthography (e.g., vray instead of bunay).
Cebuano in 1711 contained a large number of Spanish loanwords, such as sanglay (from the Hokkien seng-li but borrowed through Spanish), referring to a Chinese merchant.
Some verbs followed Spanish conjugation patterns when written by missionaries, though the spoken language did not reflect this.

2. Grammatical Structure Differences

Old Cebuano used longer, more complex sentence structures influenced by Spanish.
Clitics (small grammatical words that attach to verbs) had different placements compared to modern Cebuano.
The pronoun system was largely the same but had older variants of pronouns no longer in use.
Old Cebuano used more variations of verb forms that were closer to Spanish conjugation patterns.
The placement of pronouns has changed, with Modern Cebuano favoring shorter structures.
Some Old Cebuano sentences were longer and followed Spanish-style syntax, whereas modern Cebuano is more direct.

Final Thoughts

The evolution of the Cebuano language from 1711 to the present reflects the dynamic history of the Visayas region. Influenced by Spanish colonization, Chinese trade, Americanization, and modernization, Cebuano has undergone significant changes in orthography, grammar, vocabulary, and pronunciation. Many words and expressions from Old Cebuano have either disappeared, shifted in meaning, or been replaced by Spanish and later English terms.

Despite these transformations, Cebuano has remained a vital and thriving language, spoken by millions today. While modern Cebuano is more streamlined and influenced by global trends, traces of its historical roots remain embedded in its vocabulary and structure. Studying Old Cebuano not only deepens our understanding of the language's rich past but also helps preserve its unique cultural identity for future generations.

Istoryahe! Reimagining How Cebuanos Communicate in 1895 and 2025

2025-02-19T17:42:00.018+08:00

I was looking for resource materials for an article that I was planning to post on this website lately until I stumbled upon an old Cebuano-Spanish dictionary "Arte conpendiado de la lengua Cebuana" by Fray Julián Bermejo.

Bermejo was a Spanish missionary of the Order of Saint Augustine who played a significant role in the religious and linguistic development of the Cebuano-speaking regions in the Philippines during the Spanish colonial period. Best known for his efforts in fortifying coastal towns in southern Cebu against Moro raids, he also contributed to the study of the Cebuano language.

He was instrumental in the creation of this comprehensive Cebuano-Spanish dictionary and grammar guide that aided missionaries in learning the local language for evangelization. His work helped preserve and standardize Cebuano during the colonial era, making it an essential reference for scholars and linguists studying early Cebuano grammar and vocabulary.

Going over the book, I found it fascinating that I could still understand old Cebuano yet find it strange and foreign at the same. Some of the words and sentences all seem familiar as if I'm listening to an old person, I mean really old, talking to me. Yet, something is captivating to see proper grammar and sentence construction that don't require modern loan words and slang. In fact, I can still remember the time when my mother was still alive, she would say a lot of old Cebuano and Spanish words when I was a kid.

With the help of different large-language models (ChatGPT, You, Claude, Gemini, Perplexity, etc.) to analyze every single page, I decided to upload the whole book to create a custom agent that would learn the cultural nuances and historical context of old Cebuano. After that, I decided to let it generate actual conversations that fit certain contexts.

The Year 1895

Think about travelling back in time to 1895 and getting to talk to people living in that era. Take note of the unique spelling conventions and the diacritical marks.

Here are some examples:

1. Mercadohan (Baratílo ug Daan nga Salapi)

Usa ka mag-uuma, Miguel, mipalit ug isdâ sa usá ka magbabalígya, Rosa, sa merkádo sa Carcar.

Miguel: Maáyong buntág, Rosa! Naâ cay bugnáw nga isdâ?
(Good morning, Rosa! Do you have fresh fish?)

Rosa: Maáyong buntág, Miguel! Oo, bág-o pa kini nga lumáy. Nakúhà pa kini gahapún.
(Good morning, Miguel! Yes, this lumay (freshwater fish) was caught just yesterday.)

Miguel: Tagpîla ang duhá ka gátang?
(How much for two gatang (a traditional unit of measurement)?)

Rosa: Límà ka cuártôs ang usá ka gátang, apán ihatág co nímô ang duhá ka gátang sa usá ca peséta.
(Five cuartos per gatang, but I'll give you two gatang for one peseta (Spanish coin).)

Miguel: Sus, mahál man! Icápulô ca cuártôs ra ang ácóng dalá. Mahímô bang ibaligyâ mô sa anâ?
(Oh, that's expensive! I only have ten cuartos. Can you sell it for that?)

Rosa: Dílî mahímô, Miguel. Apán, bisan putlî ang usá ka gátang, ipunô co naláng ang pipîlâ ca isdâ arón macompleto.
(I can’t, Miguel. But I’ll just add a few more fish to the gatang so you get a fair deal.)

Miguel: Maáyô! Dághang salámat!
(Great! Thank you very much!)

2. Fraile ug Mag-uuma (Pagsangyaw sa Relihiyon sa Panahon sa Espanyol)

Usa ka fraile, Padre José, naghisgot sa usa ka mag-uuma, Tacio, gawás sa simbáhan sa Sugbo.

Padre José: Tacio, ngánô ba nga walâ ca mitámbong sa mísa ganíha?
(Tacio, why didn’t you attend mass earlier?)

Tacio: Pasaylô-a acô, Padre! Ang ácóng ásnô napiláy, ug walâ acô macabiáhê sa lungsód sa sayô.
(Forgive me, Father! My donkey got injured, and I couldn’t travel to town early.)

Padre José: Ayáw icálimti ang Sántos nga obligacíon sa Simbahán. Ang Díôs magapadáyun sa pagpánalangín sa mga matinúod-anón.
(Do not forget the Holy obligation to the Church. God continues to bless the faithful.)

Tacio: Oo, Padre. Maghímô acô ug pangadýî carón, ug buhatón co ang ácóng penitencía.
(Yes, Father. I will pray now and do my penance.)

3. Pagpanghímangno sa Mananambal (Pagbántay sa Malígnô)

Usa ka tigúwang nga mananambál, Nana Igna, mitambal sa usá ca bátà nga may hilánat sa usá ca lungsód.

Nana Igna: (Nagpamásahe sa bátà) Dúnà ca bay dáutáng gisálidâ, anác? Basín naay malígnô nga miángcón nímô.
(You might have encountered something evil, child. Perhaps a spirit has taken hold of you.)

Inahán: Sus, Nana Igna, palíhúg tabángî ang ácóng anác! Nanambál na ba ca sa mga dáhôn sa alíbhôn ug sabílà?
(Oh, Nana Igna, please help my child! Have you already applied alibhon (a medicinal plant) and sabila (aloe vera)?)

Nana Igna: Oo, apán kinahánglan pa ni ug dághang luôp ug sángkap.
(Yes, but this still needs more incense and healing ingredients.)

Inahán: Hála, buhata na ang tanáng angáy buhatón!
(Please do whatever is necessary!)

Nana Igna: Iampô natô kini sa sántos nga yútà, ug ipáhíd sa íyáng lawás.
(We shall pray over this sacred earth and rub it on his body.)

(Nana Igna begins chanting traditional prayers while applying herbal medicine to the child.)

4. Guardia Civil ug Mangingísdà (Maháy sa Panahon sa Espanyol)

Usa ca guardia civil, Don Carlos, mihunong sa usa ka mangingísdà, Karyo, sa daplín sa dagát arón masuta ang íyáng cédula ug pangutan-ón kung may rebolusyonáryo sa lungsód.

Don Carlos: ¡Oye! ¡Hombre! ¿A dónde vas? ¿Tienes tu cédula personal?
(Hey! Man! Where are you going? Do you have your personal identification certificate?)

Karyo: Oo, Señor, anîâ ang ácóng cédula. Acô usá lamáng ca mangingísdà sa dáplin sa dagát.
(Yes, Señor, here is my cédula (identification certificate). I am just a simple fisherman by the shore.)

Don Carlos: ¿Has visto a algún Indio sospechoso cerca del pueblo?
(Have you seen any suspicious indios (Filipinos) near the town?)

Karyo: Walâ acô nacakita, Señor. Nag-apíl lámang acô sa pamingwít.
(I have not seen anyone, Señor. I am only fishing.)

Don Carlos: ¡Bueno! ¡No olvides pagar tus impuestos al gobierno español!
(Good. Do not forget to pay your taxes to the Spanish government!)

Karyo: Oo, Señor.
(Yes, Señor.)

(Don Carlos walks away, and Karyo breathes a sigh of relief.)

The Year 2025

So what if people of that time travel into the future and listen to how we talk? They will, probably, be outraged at how we changed the grammar and sentence construction of the Cebuano language.

How would the same conversations above feel in 2025? You will probably be amused and surprised at the same time.

1. Buying at the Market

A farmer, Miguel, buys fish from a fish vendor, Rosa, at Carbon Market, Cebu City.

Miguel: Oy, maayong buntag, Rosa! Naakay preskong isda?
(Hey, good morning, Rosa! Do you have fresh fish?)

Rosa: Maayong buntag, Miguel! Oo, bag-o pa ni. Gi-deliver lang ganiha buntag.
(Good morning, Miguel! Yes, it's fresh. It was just delivered this morning.)

Miguel: Tagpila ang kilo sa bangus?
(How much per kilo of milkfish?)

Rosa: ₱200 ang usa ka kilo, pero kung duha ka kilo imong paliton, ₱380 nalang.
(₱200 per kilo, but if you buy two kilos, it's only ₱380.)

Miguel: Sus, medyo mahal. Pwede GCash nalang bayad?
(Oh, that's a bit expensive. Can I just pay with GCash?)

Rosa: Oo, walay problema! Hatagi lang ko sa imong number para ma-confirm nako ang payment.
(Yes, no problem! Just give me your number so I can confirm the payment.)

Miguel: Sige, salamat kaayo!
(Alright, thanks a lot!)

2. Conversation Between a Priest and a Farmer

A priest, Father Jose, speaks with a farmer, Tacio, outside a church after Sunday Mass.

Father Jose: Tacio, wala man tika makita sa misa last Sunday. Naa kay lakaw?
(Tacio, I didn’t see you at mass last Sunday. Were you busy?)

Tacio: Pasensya, Padre! Nag-uulan man gud, nya naguba akong motor. Wala ko nakabiyahe.
(Sorry, Father! It was raining, and my motorcycle broke down. I couldn’t travel.)

Father Jose: Sayang. Pero maayo nga nakasimba ka karon. Nindot kaayo ang mensahe sa ebanghelyo, noh?
(That’s unfortunate. But I’m glad you made it today. The gospel message was really meaningful, wasn’t it?)

Tacio: Oo, Padre. Nakatandog jud sa akong kasing-kasing. Mo-try ko ug simba kada Domingo.
(Yes, Father. It really touched my heart. I’ll try to attend mass every Sunday.)

3. Visiting a Traditional Healer

A mother, Maria, brings her sick child to an elderly traditional healer, Nana Igna, in a rural barangay in Cebu.

Maria: Nana Igna, akong anak sige’g hilantan. Dili na mogana ang tambal sa doctor.
(Nana Igna, my child keeps having a fever. The doctor’s medicine isn’t working.)

Nana Igna: Sus, Maria, basin nasagulan na og dili maayong espirito. Dad-a diri kay buhaton nato og luop ug hilot.
(Oh, Maria, maybe he got affected by a bad spirit. Bring him here so we can perform an incense ritual and massage.)

Maria: Pero, Nana, basin kinahanglan jud siya dalhon sa hospital?
(But, Nana, shouldn’t we bring him to the hospital instead?)

Nana Igna: Pwede, pero mas maayo ug masagulan og duha. Mag-ampo ta samtang gitambalan nato siya.
(You can, but it's best to do both. We should pray while treating him traditionally.)

4. Checkpoint by Authorities

A police officer Carlos stops a fisherman Karyo at a checkpoint near the pier in Cebu City.

Carlos: Boss, asa ka padung? Palihug ipakita imong ID.
(Boss, where are you headed? Please show me your ID.)

Karyo: Maayong gabii, Sir. Pauli lang ko gikan sa dagat. Naa ko diri akong QR code para sa akong fisher’s ID.
(Good evening, Sir. I’m just heading home from the sea. I have my fisher’s ID QR code here.)

Carlos: Sige, scan lang nako. Unsay dala nimo?
(Alright, I’ll scan it. What are you carrying?)

Karyo: Isda lang, Sir. Wala koy illegal catch.
(Just fish, Sir. I have no illegal catch.)

Carlos: Sige, way problema. Amping sa imong biyahe!
(Alright, no problem. Safe travels!)

Karyo: Salamat, Sir!
(Thanks, Sir!)

Evolution of the Cebuano Language

Cebuano has undergone significant changes from 1895 to 2025, shaped by historical events, colonial influences, modernization, and globalization. This transformation can be observed in spelling, grammar, vocabulary, pronunciation, and writing style.

Below is a comprehensive analysis of these changes:

1. Orthographic Changes (Spelling and Writing System)

a. 1895 Cebuano (Spanish Influence)

Cebuano orthography was heavily influenced by Spanish.

Words were written using Spanish spelling conventions:
        "aco" (modern: "ako") – I/me
        "canaco" (modern: "kanako") – for/to me
        "catawo" (modern: "katawhan") – people
        "hica-i" (modern: "hikayi") – avoid
        "y" was used instead of modern "i" in some words.
        "qu" instead of modern "k" (e.g., "quini" → modern "kini")
        "ll" and "ñ" borrowed from Spanish were still in use (e.g., "caballo", "niño").

b. 2025 Cebuano (Modern Filipino Influence)

The modern Cebuano alphabet follows Filipino-based orthography with fewer Spanish conventions:
        "Ako" (instead of "Aco")
        "Kanako" (instead of "Canaco")
        "Katawhan" (instead of "Catawo")
        "Hikayi" (instead of "Hica-i")
        "K" is now used instead of "qu" (e.g., "Kini" instead of "Quini").
        "Ñ" and "ll" are now rarely used except in Spanish-derived words.

Key Shift

The introduction of the modern Abakada alphabet (developed in the 1930s) and Filipino language influence simplified Cebuano spelling.
By the mid-20th century, the Spanish-influenced orthography was largely abandoned.
The Internet, texting, and social media further simplified Cebuano spelling, promoting phonetic writing.

2. Vocabulary Changes (Borrowings and Innovations)

a. Spanish Influence in 1895

Cebuano vocabulary in 1895 was deeply influenced by Spanish due to 333 years of Spanish colonization. Many Spanish words were fully adopted into Cebuano:
        "Cuarto" (modern: kwarto) – room
        "Mesa" – table
        "Zapatos" – shoes
        "Escuela" – school
        "Gobernadorcillo" – small governor/municipal leader
        "Cabayo" (modern: kabayo) – horse

b. American and Modern Filipino Influence in 2025

The American period (1898–1946) introduced many English loanwords, which are now dominant in Cebuano:
        "Kompiyuter" (computer)
        "Taym" (time)
        "Eswela" (from escuela but modernized as "eskwela")
        "Brod" (brother)
        "Teksi" (taxi)
        "Iskul" (school)
        "Prinsipal" (principal)

Tagalog/Filipino words have also influenced modern Cebuano:
        "Buwan" (moon/month) – traditionally "bulan"
        "Gamitin" (use) – traditionally "gamiton"
        "Pangarap" (dream/aspiration) – traditionally "damgo"
        "Paalam" (goodbye) – traditionally "babay"

Key Shift

Cebuano has absorbed many English and Tagalog words due to mass media, OFW culture, and globalization.
The youth in 2025 code-switch between Cebuano, Filipino, and English much more than in 1895.

3. Pronunciation Changes

a. 1895 Cebuano Pronunciation (Spanish Influence)

Cebuano speakers in 1895 followed Spanish phonetics in some words:
        "Zapatos" (za-PAH-tos) – shoes
        "Cabayo" (ka-BA-yo) – horse
        "Cuarto" (KU-ar-to) – room
        "Gobernador" (go-ber-na-DOR) – governor

The soft Spanish "r" was pronounced more frequently.

b. 2025 Cebuano Pronunciation (Modern Shift)

Many Spanish words are now pronounced with harder Filipino-Cebuano accents:
        "Sapatos" (sa-PA-tos)
        "Kabayo" (ka-BA-yo)
        "Kwarto" (KWAR-to)
        "Gobyerno" (go-BYER-no)

Modern speakers have a stronger "r" sound and sometimes shorten syllables due to fast speech.

4. Grammar and Sentence Structure

a. 1895 Cebuano (More Formal, Indirect, and Polite)

Conversations were polite and indirect, following Spanish etiquette:
        "¿Dili ba ikaw malipay, Señor?"
        (Are you not happy, sir?)
        "Magpa-uli na ba ikaw, Don Miguel?"
        (Are you going home, Don Miguel?)
        "Hinumdumi ang imong katungdanan sa Dios."
        (Remember your duty to God.)

b. 2025 Cebuano (Casual and Direct)

Modern Cebuano speakers speak more directly and informally:
        "Dili ka malipay, bai?" (You're not happy, bro?)
        "Pauli na ka?" (Going home?)
        "Ayaw kalimti ang imong gimbuhaton sa Ginoo." (Don’t forget your duty to God.)

Key Shift

Honorifics like "Señor," "Don," and "Doña" are rarely used today except in legal or formal settings.
Speech is shorter and more direct in modern times.

5. Writing and Communication Style

a. 1895 Writing Style (Highly Formal)

Official documents, letters, and books in 1895 used elaborate sentences with many Spanish phrases:
"Con el permiso de usted, Señor Gobernador, gusto ko maghatag ug hangyo sa villa."
(With your permission, Governor, I would like to submit a request for the town.)

b. 2025 Writing Style (Simplified and Digital)

In 2025, Cebuano writing is more concise, digital, and text-based:
"Gov, naa koy request para sa barangay." (Governor, I have a request for the village.)

Texting and social media influence led to abbreviations like:
        "Kumz?" (Kumusta? – How are you?)
        "Lods" (from "idol" – slang for boss, superior, or respected figure)
        "Hahaha, cge2x." (Okay, okay.)

Final Thoughts

The Cebuano language has undergone a lot of changes over the past 130 years, shaped by colonial influences, globalization, and technological advancements. From the Spanish-era formalities of 1895, where people spoke in polite and indirect phrases, to the direct, fast-paced, and digitally-influenced Cebuano of 2025, the way we communicate has evolved drastically.

If a person from the late 19th century were to hear our conversations today, they would likely struggle to understand the modern mix of Cebuano, English, and Filipino words, as well as the casual and text-based expressions we use.

This transformation teaches us several important lessons:

Language is a living entity. It adapts to social, political, and technological changes, reflecting the identity of the people who speak it.
Cultural heritage must be preserved. While evolution is natural, we must protect core Cebuano words, expressions, and grammar to keep our language distinct and meaningful.
Balance modernization with tradition. While borrowing words from other languages is inevitable, we must prioritize Cebuano in formal education, literature, and media to ensure its survival for future generations.
Language connects generations. By studying how Cebuano was spoken in the past, we strengthen our understanding of history, respect our ancestors, and ensure that future generations inherit a rich and meaningful linguistic identity.

Preserving the integrity of our language is more than just an academic effort because it has to be a concerted effort from all of us. It should be a firm commitment to our identity, history, and cultural pride.

As we move forward into an increasingly digital and globalized world, let us continue to honor our roots, embrace change wisely, and pass on a strong, vibrant Cebuano language to the next generations.

The Campeonato del Oriente, The Philippines' First International Football Match

2024-10-25T18:22:00.004+08:00

Just six years after the first-ever football match, the Philippines hosted the inaugural Far Eastern Games from February 1-9, 1913. The multisport event, which pre-dated the Asian Games, was officially opened by Governor General William Cameron Forbes at the Carnival Grounds in Malate, Manila. Although six countries participated with Republic of China, Japan, British Malaya, Siam, and Hong Kong, it was only China that was able to field a football team.

The Chinese team was led by team leader Mo Qing, Kwantung YMCA mainstay Tang Fuxiang, and goalkeeper Qiu Jixiang. The core of the team was from the theatrical organisation Lin Lang and Kong Shenghui that included Zhang Ronghan, Peng Songchang, Peng Jiayou, Ye Kun, Liang Rongtai, Guo Baogen, Ding Yuan, and Feng Peng. Also joining them are university standouts from Nanbu Southern Public School and Tsinghua University that included Guan Song Sheng and Xu Min Hui. Actually, most of these players were with the South China Athletic Association (Nan Hua), which has disbanded two years prior due to financial difficulties.

Historical Context

Officially called "The Far Eastern Olympic Games," it emerged as a significant part of the American "civilizing mission" in the region. Organized as a biennial event until 1927, these games became the largest regional sports event worldwide, embodying American ideals of modernization, democracy, and sportsmanship. Initiated by the American YMCA, these games aimed to uplift Asian nations, particularly the Philippines, Japan, and China, fostering an appreciation for Western sports values and promoting modernization through athletics.

The Philippines, under American colonial influence, was primed for such an event. English-language Philippine newspapers of the time celebrated the Games, portraying them as a symbol of the Far East's progress and desire to modernize. The Manila Carnival, which accompanied the Games, drew crowds from across the archipelago, introducing Filipinos to American-led modern sports culture as part of the broader mission to integrate and "uplift" the colony through Western ideals.

This "sportive civilizing mission" also served a diplomatic purpose, with the Games providing a platform for Asian nations to engage in friendly competition and self-governance in sports, contrasting the colonial power dynamics typical of the era.

The Talismanic Mr. Tang

Tang Fuxiang, born in Heshan County, Guangdong Province, China, and later raised in Hong Kong, is celebrated as one of the early pioneers of Chinese football. Coming from a family that cultivated flowers for a living, Tang developed a deep passion for sports early on. At English Middle School, he received formal training in English football, where he developed exceptional skills and became dedicated to the game.

In 1913, China assembled its first national football team through the South China Football Club, winners of the national championship, to compete in the First Far Eastern Games in Manila, Philippines. Tang, as South China’s captain, naturally led this historic team. In a highly anticipated match against the Philippines, Tang scored China's first international goal, skillfully defeating four defenders before putting the ball in the net. Although China lost this initial game, Tang’s performance impressed the Far East Games Organizing Committee.

Tang Fuxiang is perhaps one of the most prolific players of his time

Determined to improve, Tang led efforts to broaden the national team’s talent pool, recruiting from Guangdong, Shanghai, and Hong Kong. By 1915, at the Second Far Eastern Games, China triumphed over the Philippines, with Tang contributing three assists and leading the team to its first international championship. His tactical play and effective leadership solidified his reputation across Asia.

Tang’s prowess reached new heights during the Third Far Eastern Games in 1917. His 30-meter strike and commanding play against Japan earned widespread admiration, with Japanese fans applauding his skills. He later scored three times against the Philippines, securing China’s place as the dominant football team in Asia. Tang’s refined skill, leadership, and sportsmanship earned him the title "Far East's King of Football," becoming a foundational figure in the region’s football history.

The Lead Up to the Game

Unlike how football is played today, both teams were actually wearing white singlet and shorts with the their national flags emblazoned in front. There was no kit number as well since it was only years later before national teams adopted it. And a makeshift stand was hastily built to allow some spectators to witness the football game. It is interesting to point out that they used a 2–3–5 formation as it was the standard by the 1890s up to the 1930s.

A lot of sporting events were lined up during that day

Meanwhile, the Philippines fielded a hybrid squad with the best players from Bohemian and Sandow Athletic, usually composed of composed of Spanish-Filipino mestizos and American expatriates. By then, Bohemians have already won two titles and was named as the first official "Champions of the Philippines." The Chinese have already voiced their complaints that the Philippines were not fielding "natives" on their lineup. They even shown great displeasure of having an American named Henry Doland, also known as Enrique Dalaw, in the roster with Spanish-speaking players to complete the squad. Nevertheless, the game had to push through.

The OG starting eleven

The Philippine team is composed of goalkeeper German Montserrat with Bohemian teammates L. Lara, Enrique Lopez, Jose Llamas, Joaquin "Chacho" Lopez, Jesus Cacho, and Manuel Nieto. It was reinforced by a Sandow selection of the aforementioned Henry Doland with T. Robles, Angel Garchitorena, and Damaso Garcia. Completing the squad are J. Canales and J. Valdes.

Match Highlights

The football match between the Philippines and China was truly a historic contest that showcased skillful play, strategic maneuvers, and thrilling moments. This encounter was not only first official international football match for China (and Chinese Taipei) and the Philippines but also the formation of their first ever national teams.

The Carnival Grounds hosted the historic first international match between the Philippines and China

China took an aggressive start, primarily orchestrated by Tang, who commanded the Chinese team's offense with great precision. Relying on strong teamwork and wing play, China managed to create multiple goal-scoring chances, particularly through Feng Ping and Guo Baogen, both of whom penetrated the Filipino defense to get one-on-one opportunities with the goalkeeper. Unfortunately, their eagerness and haste in finishing these chances saw them go to waste.

Despite China’s initial dominance, the Philippines soon mounted a fierce counterattack. A pivotal moment arose when Chinese defender Peng Songchang committed a handball during a chaotic scramble in the penalty area, awarding the Philippines a penalty. Capitalizing on the opportunity, the Philippines scored, taking a 1-0 lead that they carried into halftime.

In the second half, China displayed resilience, with Tang showcasing his skill as both a leader and a player. Determined to equalize, he skillfully dribbled past four Filipino defenders and then eluded German Montserrat, calmly finishing into an open net. This remarkable effort brought the score leveled at 1-1.

As the match neared its end, both teams pushed forward with relentless energy. In a dramatic turn of events, the Filipino captain Damaso Garcia made a decisive play, sending a precise pass into the Chinese penalty area. Zhang Ronghan, a Chinese defender, leaped to clear the ball but suddenly collapsed due to a muscle spasm. The ball dropped in front of Garcia, who swiftly seized the opportunity and struck the winning goal, securing a 2-1 victory for the Philippines.

Despite their defeat, the Chinese team and their captain Tang earned high praise from the Far Eastern Games Organizing Committee for their skill and teamwork, setting the foundation for future development of Chinese football.

The Other 'Match'

Although the Philippines captured the so-called 'Campeonato del Oriente,' there was actually another match that was played to coincide with the Manila Carnival. The Chinese team, looking to regain their wounded pride, is playing against the reigning Filipino club champions Bohemian SC for the so-called "Campeonato del Carnaval" on February 7, 1913.

Probably worn out from the lost, the Chinese team were no match for the local squad and they lost 3-1.

The Legacy

The 1913 Far Eastern Games and the first international football match between the Philippines and China laid the groundwork for a long-lasting sporting legacy in Asia. This pioneering event not only marked the Philippines as the first Far East champions but also introduced a spirit of competitive camaraderie between Asian nations. The Games, organized initially as part of an American “civilizing mission,” became a platform for Asian athletes to display their talents on an international stage, fueling nationalism and pride in their sporting abilities.

Since that inaugural match, the Far Eastern Games evolved into a significant Asian sporting tradition, held biennially until 1934. Though eventually discontinued due to regional tensions and global conflicts, these Games influenced the establishment of the Asian Games in 1951, which continue to bring together athletes from across the continent.

The Pre-War Philippine Football Team in the Japanese Empire Games

2024-10-21T18:47:00.001+08:00

A full year before the surprise attack on Pearl Harbor and the outbreak of the Second World War in the Pacific, our national football team has played for the last time.

The Far Eastern Games (dubbed as the 'Olympics of Asia') was first hosted by the Philippines in 1913 with Japan and China participating. As the forerunner of today's Asian Games, other countries (British Malaya, Siam, British India, and the Dutch East Indies) also joined in later editions. It was already slated to host the 1938 edition.

The event was the 1940 East Asian Games, the replacement event for what would have been the 1940 Olympic Games in Tokyo. By that time, the Sino-Japanese War was already raging for over 7 years. Tension gripped the region and so only Japanese-sponsored puppets like Manchukuo and Mengjiang participated. The Chinese team is just a token opposition as most of the coastline was already occupied while the capital Nanking and all the Chiang Kai-Shek-led nationalist strongholds are under siege. Oddly enough, Hawaii participated with Japanese-born athletes while Siam withdrew from the competition.

The posters of the cancelled 1940 Olympic Games in Tokyo

Despite its efforts to promote inter-Asian unity, it was a hard sell to encourage other Asian countries to participate since most were under Western colonial control. Then the war with China broke out and so Japan has to used sports as a diplomatic tool to reinforce its ties with its neighbors, especially its puppet states in northern China.

Although an American territory and a self-governing Commonwealth, the Philippines participated in these games due to its earlier involvement in the Oriental Sports Association (OSA) with Japan. This association had originally aimed to foster "peace in the East" but was increasingly overshadowed by Japan's military ambitions. The Philippine football team participated in these games for the last time before World War II erupted, marking their final international competition until the war's end. The rising tension in the region, coupled with Japan's militaristic agenda, made this event one of the last major sporting competition between the two countries before the hostilities started.

History

Officially called the East Asian Games of the Year 2600 (紀元二千六百年奉祝東亜競技大会), it was held from June 5-16, 1940. Interestingly, the games were actually divided into two tournaments with one in Tokyo from June 5-9 and the other one in the Kansai Region from June 13-16. The games were officially declared open by the Emperor's younger brother Yasuhito on June 9, during the opening ceremony at the Meiji Jingu Gaien Stadium in Tokyo.

Just like what happened in Berlin four years earlier, the Japanese used the event to strength pan-Asian relations while also promoting its war effort as a 'Holy War.'

As it was a rival event to the Olympics and Far Eastern Games replacement, they introduced a new emblem specially designed for the event, which featured a figure with the numbers "2600" overlaid on top of it. The numbers represented the celebration of Emperor Jimmu, but also alluded to the cancelled Olympic event, as the digits' design was reminiscent of that of the Olympic rings.

As the Philippines was not in a state of war with Japan at that time, it decided to send athletes into the games, including its national football team.

Filipino athletes during the opening ceremony presided by Emperor Hirohito

Let the Games Begin

Although amateurism is still in effect, the Filipinos were actually up against 'semi-professionals' as the Japanese players were by all means have military training while the Manchurian squad may probably been soldiers from the dreaded Kwantung Army. Interestingly, Manchukuo was not allowed to play official FIFA international matches due to the Non-Recognition Policy of the United States and other countries. Meanwhile, the token China team were formed by the collaborationist Reorganized National Government of the Republic of China, headed by Wang Jingwei.

All three opponents have already played against each other a year earlier in the so-called "Championship Games of Amity with Japan, Manchukuo, and China" (Nichi-Man-Ka Kokan Kyogikai).

The Japanese team is looking to avenge their worst defeat at home soil

The games kicked off at the Meiji Jingu Gaien Stadium on June 7, 1940 with Japan steamrolled the Manchurians 7-0. The following day, the Filipinos battled to a hard-fought 2-2 draw against the feisty Chinese team. With great form, the Japanese are seeking to avenge their worst ever loss in football history. In June 9, they followed it up with another impressive drubbing of their old rivals in China 6-0 while the Philippines were again forced to another stalemate with the Manchurians in a 1-1 scoreline.

There were only two major big football stadiums in Japan at the time

There was a week break before the teams moved on to a different venue at the Koshien South Ground in Nishinomiya for the penultimate day where Japan is already assured of the title while the Philippines looking to book its first win. Both countries faced in a tight match but Japan went on to win 1-0. Manchukuo took the runner-up with a 1-0 win against the weakened, homesick Chinese squad.

Against all odds, the Filipinos managed to hold its ground with two draws and one loss

After the War

Japan played in another football tournament at the 10th Anniversary of Manchuria against its puppet states. These matches are not officially sanctioned by FIFA so these games don't count in the record books. It made its postwar debut only in 1951 against Iran in the inaugural Asian Games, six years after the end of the war.

Meanwhile, the Philippines played its first postwar international against Hong Kong in 4-1 friendly loss away. It had a decade long stretch of losing streak mostly against fellow Asian neighbors until it played against Japan since that match at Nishinomiya. This time around, the Filipinos played against the host of the 1958 Asian Games at the Tokyo Football Stadium.

And the result? It was remarkable. The Philippines avenged that loss against Japan thanks to a 65 minute goal by George Aldeguer. It made it out of the group stage, only to get plastered 5-2 by neighbors Indonesia in the quarterfinals. Indonesia went on to capture the bronze medal. While Republic of China won the gold by beating South Korea 3-2 AET.

Apolinario Alcuitas, A Hated Traitor or A Convenient Scapegoat?

2024-09-25T09:18:00.006+08:00

Getting to know Cebu history is just like reading any story - there are heroes and villains. And yet, there are complex characters with multiple sides to their historical legacies. Some are misunderstood and a certain few are vilified by default. They could be anti-heroes willing to do whatever it takes to achieve their ends.

Shrouded Mystery

We're talking about Apolinario Alcuitas, the man who killed the revolutionary hero Pantaleon Villegas, more popularly known by his nom de guerre 'Leon Kilat' for his daring exploits in the battlefield. Was Alcuitas motivated by personal ambition, driven by fear of Spanish retaliation, or acting out of a deeper sense of loyalty to a higher cause? Why some people put him as one of the most infamous traitors in Philippine history that included Teodoro Patiño, Pedro Becbec, and the Makapilis? The answers to these questions are as elusive as his own life story.

Here's what we know about him as his Vancouver-based descendant Ted Alcuitas recalls:

Known as Nario to his colleagues, he was part of Leon Kilat's inner circle who is best remembered for his role in that infamous assassination. One of four children of one Julio Roca Alcuitas, his exact birth and death dates have remained unknown thereby adding to the mystery surrounding his life. He married Elena Alcordo, with whom he had three daughters Teodora, Lorenzana, and Felipa and a son, Fructuoso. Ted recounted that the 12-inch blade used to kill Leon Kilat was kept as a forbidden heirloom within their household.

In their own version of the narrative, the assassination was allegedly driven by fears among local leaders that the continued rebellion would invite brutal retaliation from the Spanish forces. It is said that Apolinario used a blade to stab the revolutionary leader, with additional measures taken to ensure his death, as he was believed to be protected by anting-anting (amulets). Historical accounts suggest that Apolinario was not acting alone but had accomplices in the plot.

The true motivations behind Alcuitas' betrayal remain a subject of debate, with some viewing him as a pragmatist who sought to protect his town from the Spanish, while others label him as a traitor to the revolution. The lack of information on his later life only deepens the enigma surrounding his legacy.

Leon Kilat's Heroism at the Battle

On April 3, 1898, Cebu witnessed one of its most iconic revolts against Spanish colonial rule — the Battle of Tres de Abril. It was Leon Kilat who led this uprising, surprising the Spanish authorities and forcing their retreat. What started as a small rebellion in the streets of Cebu City quickly grew in intensity as Leon Kilat and his Katipunero forces managed to overwhelm the Spanish troops with guerrilla tactics, leading to an unexpected victory that day.

The revolt was sparked by mounting frustration over centuries of Spanish oppression and exploitation. Under his leadership, Cebuano revolutionaries took control of key parts of the city, driving Spanish forces into a defensive position. The success of this battle is considered one of the most pivotal moments of the Philippine revolution in the island of Cebu.

More than just a military leader, Leon Kilat was a symbol of hope for the people in Cebu and surrounding provinces. Known for his fierce dedication and bravery, he was able to inspire local Katipuneros, many of whom were untrained and poorly equipped, to fight against the might of the Spanish army. His leadership style was charismatic, with many viewing him as invincible — a reputation that helped rally support for the cause.

Through his leadership, the revolutionaries captured strategic areas of Cebu before Spanish reinforcements could arrive. His decision to lead a surprise attack during the peak of Spanish control in Cebu City demonstrated not only tactical intelligence but also a deep understanding of guerrilla warfare. His heroism during Tres de Abril may have solidified his role as a key figure in Cebu’s revolutionary efforts, it also means that he became the focal point of the Spanish efforts to undermine the revolution by directly plotting for his demise.

After their initial victory, Leon Kilat and his forces withdrew to Kabkad (now Carcar) to regroup and plan further attacks. Unfortunately, this retreat marked the beginning of his downfall. Fearing vicious retaliations and reprisals, some local leaders have conspired to assassinate the revolutionary leader when he least expect it. What may have been a strategic retreat seems like becoming a deadly trap to this elusive larger-than-life character.

The 'Tragic Betrayal'

After the successful battle, Leon Kilat and his forces retreated to Kabkad to regroup and plan their next move. Little did he know that the local leaders, including Apolinario Alcuitas, were plotting against him. As one of the trusted member of the inner circle, he knows when and where they can spring their deadly trap.

The local leaders feared that if they continued to support the revolution, they would face brutal retribution from the Spanish colonial forces, particularly the dreaded "juez de cuchillo" (execution by the sword). They all know that the Spanish will deploy stronger forces as well as their powerful navy including modern gunboats to lay siege on Kabkad should the town resist and protect Leon Kilat.

Apart from that, Leon Kilat's growing influence and charisma has undermine the authority of the local leaders as much as it inspired more people to resist. Ultimately, its an act of self-preservation that led them to betray the revolutionary leader, believing his death would spare their community from further violence that already happened elsewhere.

The assassination took place on the night of April 8, 1898, in the house of Capitan Gregorio Barcenilla, where Leon Kilat was resting after the intense battles of the previous days. Alcuitas, along with other conspirators, executed the plot under the cover of night. According to accounts, Alcuitas made a cryptic statement about "slaughtering a horse," which was a reference to the act of killing the revolutionary leader. As Leon Kilat lay asleep, Alcuitas and his accomplices murdered him, bringing an end to one of the most celebrated revolutionaries of the Cebuano resistance.

The assassination was a tragic betrayal that underscored the internal divisions within the revolutionary ranks.

Did He Acted Alone?

Long vilified as a traitor for his role in the assassination, the actions of Apolinario Alcuitas have cemented his name in Philippine history as one who undermined the revolutionary cause. Let's face it, Alcuitas did not acted alone as there are other people have been directly or indirectly involved.

Don Florencio Noel is a prominent local leader and Kabkad's capitan (the town mayor) at that time. He wields great power, influence, and responsibility. As a man with the leadership position, he is the first one to know that happens in the small town. Should the Spanish decide to punish the whole town, it would be his head that will roll first. Having said that, as an act of self-preservation, he is the more likely mastermind behind the plot and Alcuitas may have been nudged towards doing the 'dirty work.'

Another key character that would have been complicit with the assassination would be Gregorio Barcenilla, the man who owned the house where Leon Kilat stayed and ultimately, assassinated. There's no such thing as a coincidence. Sheltering a wanted man would attract the attention from the Spanish. Like Noel, he would probably try to save himself by indirectly involving himself in the plot.

In addition to Noel and Barcenilla, Segundo Alcordo, a tailor, was also present during the events leading up to the assassination, though his exact role is less clear. While Alcuitas was credited with carrying out the assassination, the plot itself was a collective decision by the local elites who were loyal to the Spanish and sought to protect their town from further reprisals.

Public Perception

Despite the likely involvement of other people, many in Cebu see his involvement in Leon Kilat’s death as a direct act of treachery. The assassination has left an indelible mark on his family's and descendants' legacy.

According to accounts, the weapon he used a 12-inch blade that was passed down through his descendants, further entrenching the mystery and stigma surrounding his name. This object, a relic of a dark chapter in history, is said to have been preserved by his family, raising questions about the motivations behind his act and its lingering impact on his personal life. There is little information available about Alcuitas' life after the assassination, leaving many to speculate on his reasons for the betrayal.

There is a great divide over his role in the untimely assassination. Some argue that he acted out of fear, not only for himself but for the community of Kabkad, which faced certain devastation. In this interpretation, his actions could be seen as an attempt to shield his people from brutal punishment to punish rebels. Others, however, argue that he was motivated by cowardice or opportunism, betraying a leader who had rallied the Cebuanos to victory in Tres de Abril. His complex role leaves room for ongoing debates about whether he should be condemned as a traitor or understood as a man who made a difficult choice under immense pressure.

Historical Re-Evaluation

The assassination of Leon Kilat marked a significant turning point in the revolutionary struggle in Cebu just as Spanish power is waning and a new imperialist power is on the horizon. Leon Kilat's leadership had brought momentary hope and unity to the Cebuano Katipuneros only to be cut off when his death made the revolutionary cause leaderless thereby allowing the Spanish to regain the upper-hand just in time for the Americans to take over. With the revolution losing momentum, the same people who were hobnobbing with the Spanish can now be seen taking the reigns in power with the Americans now at the helm.

By killing one of the most prominent leaders of the revolution, Alcuitas arguably doomed the revolution in Cebu to failure. His role is thus viewed through two lenses: one of pragmatic self-preservation and the other of treachery that undermined a greater cause. His actions place him in the same category as other infamous figures in Philippine history who betrayed their fellow Filipinos during the revolution like Pedro Paterno, who facilitated the controversial Pact of Biak-na-Bato. While they played critical roles in shaping the course of Philippine history, their actions are often viewed with disdain for having betrayed the revolutionary cause. They exist in a moral gray area, where motivations of survival, loyalty, and fear clash with the ideals of revolution and heroism.

There is the thin line between traitor and hero in history. As the old saying goes, "history is written by the victors." It may be true at certain cases, the question is - who really won? There is none as the Filipinos (particularly Cebuanos and Negrenses) have lost a great revolutionary leader.

And what became of Alcuitas after the assassination? These questions remain unanswered, leaving a lingering sense of intrigue about whether he faced justice for his role in Leon Kilat’s death or if he quietly faded from history. His disappearance after the assassination only adds to the mystery, leaving his story open to interpretation and historical re-evaluation.

The First-Ever Football Match in the Philippines

2024-07-11T10:24:00.002+08:00

The Bohemian Sporting Club became the most dominant club of that time

There was a time when football was the centerpiece of the sporting culture as far as the elites, ilustrados, and extranjeros (foreign expatriates and colonial officials) are concerned. The Filipinos have embraced foreign sports that they can cheer and love as their own.

We all know that football is a global game and it was this sport that took root first even before the Thomasites introduced the physical education system that brought in America's favorite sports - baseball and basketball. It was the latter that eventually surpassed the gains made by football. But we're not talking about the full history of the beautiful game as I already covered it in one of my articles.

If a football clasico defines historic rivalries of top football clubs throughout the world, whether its Real Madrid-Barcelona, Boca Juniors-River Plate, or Persija-Persib, we probably have missed out a long history of rivalries in football clubs that no longer exist. The

The date was October 15, 1907 and the place was the Manila Carnival Grounds. What happened there?

The first-ever football match watched by thousands of spectators, including Governor General (future US president) William Howard Taft. It coincided with the establishment of the first Philippine Assembly. By this time, the Philippines has transitioned to a civilian administration. All the fanfare and spectacle were actually focused on the socio-political programs. The venue that would become the Manila Carnival Grounds would eventually hosted the annual beauty pageant a year later. It would have become an important part of the social life of the elites and hosting a football game is just a sideshow to the extravagant festivities of the time.

A future US president was in the stand

It's difficult to find news articles and documents that would provide a full story of what happened that day. One thing is for sure is that there were six football clubs (including the Manila Jockey Club, the Manila Sporting Club, the Paris Club, and the Sandow Athletic Club) that already existed prior to that historic official match. Of course, games were already played prior to that date but may have been on "closed doors" as only from a certain class were permitted to play and watch their games.

The Manila Carnival Grounds was more like a makeshift venue than a permanent one

The iconic elephant brings you in to the action

I can understand why there is that certain nostalgia with the old Wembley by some English football fans. If we had this football venue hosting football games up to this day, we would have transformed it to our own version of Wembley with its own mythic status.

As for the game, it was Sandow Athletic Club that won the match and Governor Taft personally donated the trophy to them as the first-ever Philippine champion even though the official champions were recognized starting in 1911 with the Bohemian Sport Club emerging as the most dominant football club in the early years of Philippine football.

By the turn of the century, there is a growing popularity of physical fitness in Europe and United States as gymnastics and bodybuilding became widely known thanks to German athlete Eugen Sandow. It's not a surprise that a gym club would have been established by expatriates as soon as the Americans were in charge. Unfortunately, these clubs were probably reserved for foreigners and some wealthy local mestizo elites. In fact, there were so-called "interracial games" as part of the sideshows at the Manila Carnival Grounds wherein indigenous participants were forced to play to show the white supremacy of Americans over the Filipinos.

The first football match may have been lost in time but the faded memories and accounts should serve as a reminder as how far we have reached since then. Football may still have to take foothold in the hearts and minds of every Filipino. We have to start somewhere and one thing is building our own football culture by fully understanding the lessons of history - both the glorious good old days and the shameful past.

Alternate Outcomes: Under Lapulapu's Banner

2024-02-05T09:50:00.001+08:00

Editor's Note: Alternate Outcomes is an article series that examines alternative outcomes to specific divergent points in historical events. It explores the 'what ifs' when a historical event goes to a different route. All the scenarios discussed here did not happen and are just mere educational speculations of what might have been.

History is a complex web of decisions and events, where a single choice can shape the destiny of nations. The Philippines, with its rich cultural heritage and strategic location, has long been a crossroads of global powers. What if, in an alternate history, Lapulapu's victory over Magellan's men inspired succeeding tribal chieftains and rulers managed to repel all future attempts by Spain to colonize the islands?

Bear in mind, there was not a concept of a Filipino nation at that time and there are countless local leaders and chieftains ruling different islands and regions as their own medieval domain. What if they did the unthinkable - team up with other leaders in a united front to prevent these foreign invaders from completely subjugating the whole archipelago? A unified nation-state of Maharlika may have emerged.

Let's explore five intriguing scenarios where the Philippines remains unconquered, unified under different powerful kingdoms.

Scenario 1: The Kingdom of Tondo Triumphs

In this alternate history, the Kingdom of Tondo, a pre-colonial maritime power, successfully thwarts Spain's early attempts at colonization, carving out a legacy of resistance and unity.

Rajah Sulayman, a formidable leader known for his strategic acumen, becomes the linchpin of Tondo's resistance. Unlike in our timeline, where he faced defeat, Sulayman unites with neighboring kingdoms, such as Maynila and Namayan, forging a coalition that prevented the further Spanish advance. Since the Spanish have not fully established their outposts, food supplies were cut off and logistical challenges of bringing more reinforcements from Spain hampered their colonial expansion.

Inspired by Tondo's defiance, other regions rally under a shared banner of independence. The archipelago, often divided by tribal and regional loyalties, finds common ground in the fight against a common enemy. This unity parallels the unification of Japan under the Tokugawa Shogunate, creating a strong, centralized state that endures for centuries.

In this timeline, the 1574 siege of Manila by Spanish forces, led by Miguel López de Legazpi, ends not in Spanish victory, but in a resounding defeat. Tondo's fleet, reinforced by warriors from across the islands, devastates the Spanish armada. Foreign mercenaries like the Chinese and Japanese even jumped in to help beat further attempts to defeat the grand coalition.

Scenario 2: The Rise of Sugbu

In this alternate scenario, the Kingdom of Sugbu, emerges as a formidable power that successfully resists Spanish colonization. Lapulapu's legacy gave rise to a more centralized regional power with a new line of warrior kings ruling over this domain.

Lapulapu, whose bravery at the Battle of Mactan in 1521 is well documented, does more than defeat Ferdinand Magellan—he unifies the surrounding islands into a maritime empire. Drawing inspiration from the maritime prowess of Srivijaya, an ancient Indonesian empire, Sugbu's fleet dominates the seas, deterring future Spanish incursions.

Sugbu's influence spreads across the Visayas and beyond, establishing trade networks that rival those of the Majapahit Empire in Java. These alliances bolster its defenses, making the kingdom a key player in regional politics. Like the Portuguese in the Indian Ocean, Sugbu's naval superiority ensures its autonomy.

When Miguel López de Legazpi attempts to establish a colony in Cebu in 1565, he faces a well-organized and battle-hardened Sugbu Empire. The Spanish forces, unable to gain a foothold, are forced to negotiate, marking a rare instance of European powers being repelled in Asia—a feat reminiscent of the Mongol invasions of Japan, thwarted by the legendary kamikaze winds.

Scenario 3: Butuan's Golden Age

Imagine the Kingdom of Butuan, a historical hub of trade and wealth, successfully resisted against Spanish colonization.

Under the rule of a succession of astute rajahs, Butuan flourishes as a center of trade and culture, drawing comparisons to the ancient Khmer Empire's wealth and sophistication. Historical records from Chinese sources, such as the Song Dynasty’s "Zhu Fan Zhi," attest to Butuan’s wealth, which in this alternate history funds a powerful military that repels Spanish advances.

Butuan’s prosperity attracts allies from neighboring kingdoms, forging a coalition reminiscent of the Hanseatic League in medieval Europe. This network of alliances with the likes of Malacca and the Majapahit Empire creates a formidable barrier to Spanish colonization, with Butuan at its center, wielding influence across the region.

In 1595, when Spanish forces led by Governor Pedro de Rojas attempt to establish a foothold in Butuan, they are met with fierce resistance. The united front of Butuan and its allies repels the invaders, securing the region’s independence and setting the stage for a golden age of trade and cultural exchange.

Scenario 4: The Ascendancy of Maguindanao

In this alternate history, the Sultanate of Maguindanao, a powerful Muslim state, successfully defends its sovereignty against Spanish encroachment.

Led by a succession of visionary sultans, Maguindanao builds a formidable military and prosperous trade networks that rival those of the Sultanate of Malacca. Historical records, such as those from Antonio Pigafetta, highlight the wealth and organization of these sultanates, which in this timeline, become the bedrock of resistance.

Maguindanao forges alliances with other Muslim sultanates across Mindanao, such as Sulu and Lanao, creating a unified Islamic front against Spanish colonization. This alliance mirrors the historical unification of the Arab tribes under the Rashidun Caliphate, whose combined strength repelled Byzantine and Sassanian forces.

In 1596, Spanish forces under Governor-General Francisco Tello launch an ambitious campaign to conquer Maguindanao. However, the sultanate's formidable defenses and the united resistance of the Muslim sultanates lead to a crushing defeat for the Spaniards, forcing them to retreat and recognize the sovereignty of Mindanao’s Islamic states.

Scenario 5: The Sovereignty of Sulu

In this alternate history, the Sultanate of Sulu, a maritime power in the southern Philippines, successfully resists Spanish colonization.

Under a succession of wise and powerful sultans, Sulu becomes a naval superpower in the region, much like the Kingdom of Ryukyu in Okinawa. Sulu's fleet dominates the waters of Southeast Asia, repelling any attempt by foreign powers to assert control over the archipelago. Its good relations with China as a tributary state, gives a strong ally that can assist and protect them.

Sulu forms strategic alliances with other island communities across the southern Philippines, creating a defensive network that stymies Spanish ambitions. This alliance mirrors the Polynesian alliances of the Pacific, where island kingdoms banded together to resist European colonization.

When Spanish forces, led by Captain Francisco de Sande, attempt to conquer Sulu in 1578, they face a well-coordinated and fierce resistance. The combined forces of Sulu and its allies successfully repel the invaders, preserving their sovereignty and ensuring the region remains free from foreign domination.

A Unified and Free Maharlika

In each of these alternate histories, the Maharlika remains unconquered, its regions unified under different powerful kingdoms. These scenarios are more than just imaginative exercises—they remind us of the resilience and strength that have long been a part of Filipino identity. While actual history tells a tale of colonization and resistance, these alternate paths offer glimpses into a different narrative, one where unity and determination secure a free and sovereign archipelago.

In reflecting on these possibilities, we see not only the potential for different outcomes but also the enduring spirit of resistance that has always defined the Filipino people. These what-ifs, grounded in the realities of history, invite us to consider the power of unity and the impact of leadership in shaping a nation's destiny.

Are Filipinos, The Heaviest Rice Consumers in the World?

2024-01-17T10:27:00.002+08:00

They always say that "rice is life."

We all know that we're one of the biggest rice consumers in the world that's why almost everything that we eat always involves with rice. Karinderya, fastfoods, and restaurants even cash in with their 'unlimited rice' promotions while some put a premium for 'extra rice' order to force customers to pay a bit more (which, most people don't mind).

Even poor people will have to secure cheaper NFA rice (government-subsidized by the National Food Authority) to pair it with sardines, galunggong, and even, salt and oil. The reality is that the exploding population and growing rice consumption has forced us to import more than producing it. We're supposed to be good at it and we even have the International Rice Research Institute to help us become more self-sufficient at our own staple food. But still...

There are over 2.4 million rice farmers in the country, that sound a lot right? But most of them are not getting any younger (average age of 56 years old) as this hard and often thankless profession is slowly dying out as many children of farmers are moving away from it. Besides, a lot of unproductive farmlands are being sold out for cheap as commercial and real estate developers looking to convert these agricultural lands into residential subdivisions for those who end up working abroad as OFWs or shopping malls to cash in the growing middle class.

And it's even more difficult to sustain should a rice farmer continues on as government subsidies are not if (if there's even been). While the country's location in the typhoon belt don't give them reprieve from seasonal heavy rains and winds that would destroy their harvest. Being in the frontlines of climate change, doesn't help either as long dry spells end up destroying any chance of a bountiful harvest. Foreign imports also push prices down, bad news for farmers looking to even break even.

Why is it not the case as our rice-consuming neighbors Thailand, Vietnam, and Indonesia are doing fine?

More importantly, why does an average Filipino eat more rice than others? Even though a kilo of rice is getting more expensive and supply is trying to catch up with demand.

Let's dig deeper into the cultural and historical context that brought us here.

The Stranglehold of Rice

Our obsession with rice is deeply rooted with both cultural practices and historical developments that have shaped our country's identity and everyday life. Rice, known as "bugas" in Cebuano, occupies a central role in Filipino cuisine, social customs, and agricultural traditions. It's literally in our language with different words associated by this crop such as "dukot" (burned rice), "kan-on" (cooked rice), "lanot" (rice water), and "bahaw" (leftover rice).

When I was young, I always remember having just rice as a fall-back meal when we really don't have anything to eat. It's like the vanilla version of your culinary life in its very basic form. Call it a "starter kit" for everything else from adobo with rice to spaghetti with rice. And if you happen to have enough money to go to a fast food, you may want 'extra rice' for your Jollibee Chicken Joy or 'unli rice' for your Mang Inasal meal.

This reverence for rice can be traced back centuries to pre-colonial times when indigenous communities across the archipelago cultivated various strains of rice suited to their local environments. Rice was not only a dietary staple but also held spiritual and social significance, often used in rituals and feasts that reinforced community bonds and hierarchy.

Throughout history, the Philippines' agricultural landscape has been heavily focused on rice cultivation, owing to the country's fertile lands and favorable climate. Under Spanish colonial rule, large-scale rice farming systems like the "encomienda" and later, the "hacienda" system, emerged, shaping land ownership patterns and labor practices that continued to influence rice production and distribution well into the modern era. This historical context laid the foundation for rice to become not just a food source but a symbol of livelihood, power, and societal order.

Speaking of order, the economic dynamics of rice revolved around the landowner elite and the largely rural peasant populace. It is the same elite class that retained political and economic control that kept the farmer class poor and landless for the most part of the country's history. Instead of modernizing the agricultural sector, they have utilized this gap to keep themselves in power for a long time. They owned most of the productive lands in the country even at the cost of stagnating rice production.

Crooked politicians give out sacks of rice to their constituents while also adding some extra with it to remind them that they should be vote for in the upcoming elections. They weaponize it in times of calamity and natural disaster by giving out these relief goods only to people that voted for them and leave out some people because they are on the other side. These things play out like it's the way it is.

What Do the Numbers Say?

According to data from the OECD and the US Department of Agriculture, the top rice consumers are China (143,205,000 tons) and India (115,287,000 tons) in 2024. Completing the top five rice consumers are Indonesia (52,662,000 tons), Bangladesh (43,272,000 tons), and Vietnam (22,401,000 tons). The Philippines missed out and settle for 6th (16,409,000 tons). Asian countries with a large population tend to consume rice more than other countries. Brazil, Canada, and Egypt are key exceptions.

But what about average citizens? As for per capita consumption, the Bangladeshis (population: 173,562,364) are heaviest rice consumers in the world with an average daily intake of 683 grams. The Vietnamese (population: 100,987,686) are second with an average daily intake of 608 grams. Rounding up the top five are Indonesians (population: 283,487,931) at 509 grams, Filipinos (population: 115,843,670) at 388 grams, and Canada (population: 39,742,430) at 348 grams. It's interesting to know that Canada has a large diaspora population of Filipinos and South Asians (Indians, Pakistanis, and Bangladeshis).

Now the question is, with all these rice consumption, can these countries support their population by producing enough to feed these hungry mouths? It turns out that India (excess rice: 21,713,000 tons) and the United States (6,503,000 tons) as the most rice sufficient countries in the world with excess rice supplies to feed more people. Due to the large population, a lot of Asian countries are rice insufficient. And guess what? The Philippines needs at least 4,084,000 tons to feed its whole population, which means that the production-consumption ratio is 1 to 1.331. More importantly, the whole rice supply should only be able to provide 2.05 kilos per person per day.

So are we the heaviest rice consumers in the world? Not really, but we eat a lot more than we should considering that there is a supply shortage to meet the demand in the country.

Final Words

The Filipino relationship with rice is one of deep-seated cultural and historical significance, reflecting the nation’s identity, resilience, and enduring connection to its agricultural roots. As one of the world's largest consumer per capita, the Philippines has a unique and profound bond with this staple crop, which permeates every aspect of daily life—from simple meals to grand celebrations. The reverence for rice is woven into the Filipino psyche, where it serves not just as a source of sustenance but as a symbol of community, tradition, and survival.

In the end, this deep connection to rice is a reflection of the nation’s past and present struggles, highlighting the importance of addressing the challenges faced by each and every one of us. Ensuring the future of rice in the Philippines requires not only preserving cultural traditions but also investing in sustainable agricultural practices, supporting local farmers, and rethinking how we approach food security.

Cebu Urban Legend: The Dancing Sun of Carcar

2023-12-31T11:02:00.000+08:00

Editor's Note: Urban legends are tall tales that emerged from stories shared in small circles that eventually grow to a point where they gain a life of their own. With little or no supporting evidence, these stories are somewhat based on real events but often intertwined with outright lies and half-truths. Usually, these are passed down to the next generation and they evolved to describe some aspects of horror, humor, and even morality.

Have you ever heard about the mysterious dancing sun phenomenon that happened in the early nineties?

Well, that strange event in Carcar is shrouded in mystery as it intertwined with faith, public perception, and scientific scrutiny. While the legend persists in the hearts and minds of those who were present, the quest for truth continues. Whether a meteorological quirk, a shared illusion, or a genuine miracle, the dancing sun remains an enduring enigma, challenging our understanding to this day.

Let's unravel the layers of this popular urban legend by separating the myth from the facts.

The Origin Story

There are many stories of dancing suns that have left an indelible mark across different corners of the world. One of the most renowned occurrences took place near Fatima, Portugal, in 1917. Thousands of faithful witnesses reported a mesmerizing spectacle as the sun appeared to spin, change colors, and dance in the sky for around 10 minutes. This event, known as the Miracle of the Sun, became a testament to the power of belief for many.

Similar phenomena happened in places like Medjugorje in Bosnia and Herzegovina, where visions of the Virgin Mary were accompanied by reports of the sun performing extraordinary movements. These occurrences stirred both fervent belief and skeptical inquiry, blurring the line between the mystical and the scientific.

Amidst these miraculous events, the quaint town of Carcar found itself thrusted into the spotlight. Inspired by the visit of the Pilgrim Virgin of Fatima in 1989, Father John Rona sought to build a shrine known as the Theotokos Center. Nestled in Perrelos, this shrine gained attention when, on September 9, 1992, the sun displayed a miraculous dance during the blessing of a statue of Our Lady of Fatima.

Coincidentally, a similar phenomenon unfolded in Agoo, La Union in March 6, 1993. The heavens seemed to perform similar visual signs in these distant locations, leaving both communities awe-struck. These mysterious events marked a unique chapter in the ongoing saga of dancing suns, intertwining the threads of religious devotion and inexplicable unnatural wonders.

The Myth and Legend

In our culture, where religion and remnants of ancient spirituality coexist, tales of the supernatural find fertile ground. The mysterious dancing sun phenomenon in Carcar, though rooted in a particular moment in 1993, became more than a mass hysteria event - it evolved into an urban legend and, for some, a haunting hoax.

Embedded in the cultural fabric is a fatalistic "bahala na" attitude, a surrender to fate deeply intertwined with a history of calamities. The Philippines, a nation accustomed to the caprices of nature, experienced economic recession, political upheaval, and natural disasters in the 90s, setting the stage for an urban legend to take root.

As rotating blackouts cast shadows, the Mount Pinatubo eruption spewed uncertainty, and typhoons Ruping and Mameng wreaked havoc, a collective unease permeated the air. The socio-political landscape provided fertile ground for the birth of urban legends. Amidst the uncertainties, the dance of the sun in Carcar emerged.

The 90s witnessed the rise of cults and fringe religious groups preying on these anxieties. The "end of the world" narrative, fused with indigenous lore, appealed to those grappling with the era's turmoil. More people have shown a growing fear of an impending apocalypse with doomsday expecting to tear the world apart in 2000.

The 1988 pastoral letter from the Catholic Bishops Conference, cautioning against the plundering of the land, echoed a sentiment that natural disasters were divine retribution. In the wake of Typhoon Uring, Mount Pinatubo's fury, and subsequent typhoons, the collective psyche sought solace in a return to faith. The Agoo dancing sun phenomenon, concurrent with Carcar's celestial spectacle, reinforced the perceived divine admonition.

However, misinterpretations of biblical teachings during this time fueled extreme beliefs. The dance of the sun became a metaphorical dance with faith, as individuals, yearning for meaning amid chaos, inadvertently contributed to the urban legend. During the height of that dancing sun frenzy, collective interpretations added layers of mystique, intertwining the phenomena with the uncertainties of an era seeking salvation in the heavens.

Finding the Truth

The phenomenon of the dancing sun, as witnessed in Carcar or Fatima, has sparked different interpretations — some grounded in science, others steeped in belief. As with the precedent events, many skeptics dismissed them as mass hallucination, but subsequent occurrences in Brazil, Colombia, and Bosnia Herzegovina triggered further scientific inquiries into the mysterious supernatural events. The one that happened in Carcar is no exception.

Artur Wirowski from the Lodz University of Technology delves into a meteorological perspective, suggesting that high-altitude ice crystals creating "sun dogs" and bands of rainbow colors might explain these phenomena. In his investigation since 2012, Wirowski proposes that electrically charged crystals oscillating could produce effects resembling the miracle. However, the mystery persists — why are sun dances reported in specific parts of the world?

Scientific skeptics, such as science writer Benjamin Radford, question the authenticity of the events. Radford attributes the reported miracles to psychological factors like suggestion and pareidolia. He highlights that, logically, if the sun were truly dancing, billions worldwide would have reported it. Radford also challenges claims of miraculous drying of rainwater, pointing out inconsistencies in weather reports and the absence of photographic evidence.

Theologian Lisa J. Schwebel raises further skepticism, citing the lack of consensus among witnesses and the absence of authentic photos. Witnesses' expectations and preparations, including darkening glass to view the sun, suggest a predisposition to see a miracle.

The phenomenon of prolonged sun gazing causing illusions is a recurring theme. Physicist Auguste Meessen argues that optical effects, like retinal after-images and color changes, are products of staring at the sun. Meessen's analysis, presented at the International Symposium "Science, Religion, and Conscience," posits that these optical illusions might explain sun miracles worldwide.

A cloud of stratospheric dust or Sahara dust, proposed by Steuart Campbell and Paul Simons respectively, offers a meteorological explanation. Campbell's hypothesis aligns with reports of a blue and reddened sun in China in 1983. Joe Nickell emphasizes that atmospheric phenomena, like sunlight refracted through clouds or moisture droplets, could create various colors and illusions.

The dancing sun phenomenon, observed in diverse locations, raises questions about the interplay of meteorology, psychology, and belief systems. As science probes the skies for answers, the dance continues, casting celestial shadows on the intersection of the extraordinary and the ordinary. The Mandela Effect, where collective misremembering alters perceptions, adds another layer to this intricate cosmic ballet—did the sun truly dance, or did collective consciousness compose a celestial symphony? The mystery endures, inviting us to navigate the delicate dance between belief and scientific inquiry.

In the pre-social media age, the Agoo and Carcar phenomenon did reach massive publicity as pilgrims and devotees from all over the country were attracted by it. However, time goes by and it all soon fizzled out. Even the people who took active part in these phenomena end up fading away into obscurity. However, that doesn't stop these dancing sun events from reappearing from our collective consciousness once in a while.

Oddly enough, some "ancient astronaut" theorists with the like of Giorgio Tsoukalos would have attributed these strange events as brought by extraterrestrials.

Conclusion

In our pursuit of understanding, let us embrace objectivity and critical inquiry. The dancing sun phenomenon, whether witnessed in Carcar, Fatima, or elsewhere, prompts us to question, explore, and seek explanations grounded in evidence. While the belief in this unnatural phenomena adds richness to our human experience, the scientific lens offers clarity.

Let's be more discerning by digging deeper for the truth. Always understand that there will always be human motives as to why these phenomena end up being promoted as miracles with some people cashing in with the narrative.

References:

Cardinal Calls a Halt to Promotion of 'Dancing Sun' Phenomenon. UCA News. April 4, 1993.

"Wenceslao: ‘Talking’ Sto. Niño icon, dancing sun," by John Paul Pilapil. SunStar Daily. February 1, 2014.

"Miracles," by Agustin Sollano, Jr., The Freeman. October 16, 2016.

"How do you explain the miracle of dancing sun?" Quora.

Carcar heritages. Carcar Families: A Genealogy Blog for Carcar.

Theotokos. Where We Walked.

Theotokos Archdiocesan Shrine in Perrelos Hill, Carcar City, Cebu. The Old Churches.

Miracle of the Sun. Wikipedia.

"Church: Philippine miracle a hoax," by Girlie Linao. UPI Archives. September 6, 1995.

"The Curious Case of Judiel Nieva," by Jens Cequina. Pop!. January 7, 2021.

"'Miracle of Agoo' and visionary Judiel Nieva: Real or hoax?," by Mark Angelo Ching. PEP.ph. March 31, 2021.

"Weatherwatch: miracle of the dancing sun may be a meteorological event," by David Hambling. The Guardian. October 14, 2019.

The Tragic Story Behind "Kasadya Ning Taknaa," Cebu's Beloved Christmas Song

2023-12-22T10:49:00.008+08:00

Vicente Rubi singing the song with children (AI generated)

Christmas is fast coming up these days and we feel the holiday spirit as we hear familiar tunes from classic Christmas classics to the catchy songs of Mariah Carey and Jose Mari Chan. Yet, there's one thing that never goes out of style - the Christmas caroling staples sung by young and old alike.

I'm talking about the ever popular "Ang Pasko ay Sumapit," by National Artist Levi Celerio. However, Cebuanos would surely disagree as most people have grown up listening to the real, original version "Kasadya ning Taknaa" (How Blissful is this Season) composed by Vicente Daclan Rubi and penned by Mariano Vestil. What was a joyous song of celebration from the yesteryears is shrouded by injustice and heartache. The true origin story was swept out on the corner to give way to songs that soon surpassed it in popularity.

Let's travel back into time and deep dive into the story that led into that...

The Origin Story

The creation of this Christmas classic happened way before the more popular ones were even played. It is said that the song was inspired from the light musical plays of the time, which was the most popular forms of entertainment, especially in the provinces. The story of "Kasadya ning Taknaa" was born where the Rubi family lived in what is now P. Gullas Street. There was Pili-Kanipaan (now, Manalili Street) where once the grandest fiesta in Cebu would take place every December. That's where the song starting to come into life in Rubi's head.

Affectionately known as "Noy Inting," Rubi was born on January 22, 1903 in the Kamagayan district where he was the youngest of four children. Their family name is already known for their musical heritage, especially in Mactan. Despite only completing his elementary education and never stepping into high school, he wielded the power of music with innate talent. In his early years, he worked as a contract labor foreman in the sugar farms of Cebu, earning the respect of his community.

It was in the late 1933 when Cebuano playwright Rafael Policarpio was looking for someone to compose a song for a drama we was working on. He specifically looked for a group of people to play that song using improvised castanets (made from flattened softdrink caps or "tansans") at the gate of a big house in exchange for "pinaskuhan" (Christmas gift).

At that Christmas fiesta, some of the officials asked Rubi to sign up for their daygon ("caroling") competition. He teamed up with Vestil to create the winning piece. It became so popular that song became a hit in neighboring towns and islands as well as other predominantly Cebuano-speaking regions of northern Mindanao. The song resonated with the festive spirit of the season, painting vivid images of Aguinaldo masses, sikwate ("traditional cocoa drink") and puto ("rice cake") for breakfast, and the warmth of family reunions amidst carolers serenading homes. There was an infectious beat and optimism from the music that even a translation in other Filipino languages won't be able to replicate the same exultant atmosphere and vibe.

He was not a one-hit wonder composer, he created a lot of daygon and balitaw compositions with his guitar. He had composed more than a hundred songs and among his works were "Pasko Na, Among Daygon," "Nag-ambahan," "Pasko nga Halandumon," and "Maglipay Kita." One of his compositions, "Carmela" remained a popular Cebuano kundiman interpreted by present-day balladeers.

'Ispired' by Kasadya?

Years later in 1937, another aspiring composer Jose "Pepe" Cenizal has emerged when he became a musical director position at Parlatone Hispano-Filipino.

He was just a 17-year-old UP Conservatory of Music student and Army Navy Club bandleader at that time when he impressed the producer and got the job on the spot. Just as Parlatone was producing the movie "Pugad ng Agila" (1938), Cenizal was required to create marching song. The movie was about folk hero Teodoro Asedillo, a Robin Hood figure from Quezon, Laguna, and Batangas.

He would eventually ask the help from Celerio to pen the lyrics of the music. He came up with the melody that would eventually became the one used for "Ang Pasko ay Sumapit." However, there lies the inconsistency of this version. If the song already existed four years earlier, he could have heard it somewhere and inspired by it. They could have created a variation of the lyrics in Tagalog to hide the fact that it came from somewhere.

Years later, another smoking gun made it even more conflicting as Ivar Tulfo Gica, founder-trustee of the Kultura Bisaya Foundation, Inc., stated in a letter that Villar Records "bought it rights, recorded, and credited the entire work" to Rubi and Vestil in 1950. It also inferred that the song was used as background music in the aforementioned film.

A damning passage mentioned that "Cenizal claimed he composed it, inspired by the strains from carolers on the Bantayan shorelines while he was passing through in a banca in Cebu where he evacuated during the war (1942), about a decade after it was copyrighted by Rubi and Vestil." That question creates a whole new mystery, if Cenizal heard the song in 1942 then that won't prove that he copied the song that he "created" in 1937-38 even if Kasadya already existed since 1933.

The only plausible explanation if Cenizal did "copied" the song is if the song made its way to Manila before he "composed" the marching song four years later. If you compare the lyrics of both songs, the Cebuano version have a much deeper literary meaning than the Tagalog version so even if Gica may have mixed up with the dates, it's pretty clear where the provenance of the latter song came from:

Cebuano

Kasadya ni'ng Táknaa

Dapit sa kahimayaan.

Mao ray among nakita,

Ang panagway nga masanagon.

Buláhan ug buláhan

Ang tagbaláy nga giawitan.

Awit nga halandumon,

Ug sa tanang pasko magmalípayon.

Bag-ong tuíg, bág-ong kinabúhì.

Dinuyogan sa átong mga pagbati.

Atong awiton ug atong laylayon

Aron magmalípayon.

Kasadya ni'ng Táknaa

Dapit sa kahimayaan.

Mao ray among nakita,

Ang panagway nga masanagon.

Buláhan ug buláhan

Ang tagbaláy nga giawitan.

Awit nga halandumon,

Ug sa tanang pasko magmalípayon

Tagalog

Ang Pasko ay sumapit

Tayo ay mangagsiawit

Ng magagandáng himig

Dahil sa ang Diyos ay pag-ibig

Nang si Kristo'y isilang

May tatlóng haring nagsidalaw

At ang bawat isá ay nagsipaghandóg

Ng tanging alay.

Bagong Taón ay magbagong-buhay

Nang lumigayà ang ating Bayan

Tayo'y magsikap upang makamtán

Natin ang kasaganaan!

Tayo'y mangagsiawit

Habang ang mundó'y tahimik.

Ang araw ay sumapit

Ng Sanggól na dulot ng langit.

Tayo ay magmahalan,

Ating sundín ang Gintóng Aral

At magbuhát ngayon,

Kahit hindî Paskô ay magbigayan!

Cenizal's descendants have remained adamant that "Ang Pasko ay Sumapit" is an original composition. In a "Kapuso Mo Jessica Soho" Christmas special in 2014, Cenizal's daughter said that she wasn’t aware of "Kasadya Ning Taknaa" was a Christmas song at all!

As for Celerio, he is celebrated as the man who created the greatest Filipino Christmas carol ever. He gained international fame for his ability to literally make music with a leaf. At the height of his fame, US TV shows "The Merv Griffin Show" and "That's Incredible!" invited him to perform his leaf routine. At some point, the Guinness Book of World Records listed him as "the only leaf player in the world."

Apart from Gica, there are other personalities who claimed that other people's works from Rosas Pandan to Tinikling were either wrongly-credited to Celerio or simply plagiarized.

Contrasting Fortunes

Despite the song's success, Rubi faced a painful experience when his masterpiece was unfairly credited to other composers in the form of the translation "Ang Pasko Ay Sumapit." Cenizal went on to become a successful composer while Celerio was elevated to National Artist in 1997.

Rubi entered into an agreement with the Manila-based Mareco Recording Company in 1950, selling his song to them. As part of the deal, he received an advance payment of fifty pesos and was promised three centavos for each record sold. Mareco's records indicated that Rubi's composition sold 62,812 copies from 1966 to 1975. However, in 1967, Rubi only received P110.25 in royalties, a stark contrast to the P1,994.63 he was rightfully owed.

Ludivina Rubi Najarro, Rubi's daughter, remembered that their family never received further royalties. In 1976, Rubi took legal action against Mareco in a Quezon City court. Unfortunately, the case was dismissed because Rubi lacked the financial means to travel to Manila. Subsequently, Rubi's lawyer, Ramon Ceniza, revealed that while Mareco had checks prepared for Rubi, the company made no effort to locate him despite his family's relocation.

In the same year, Rubi sought copyright protection from the National Library, only to be informed that the song had already entered the public domain as it had been accessible before his petition, as outlined in Article II, Section 10 of Presidential Decree 49, the law on the protection of intellectual property.

Undeterred, Ceniza persisted. In 1979, he filed another case before a Cebu court, securing an exemption for Rubi from litigation fees due to financial constraints. The case reached its resolution nearly two decades later, in 1998, when the court ruled that Mareco owed Rubi P1,884.34, the outstanding balance for the period from 1966 to 1975. Ludivina revealed that her father, undeterred by his health, continued composing until his final days, even urging her to pursue the legal battle on his deathbed.

Incredibly, Rubi made his last song "Mahanaw ang Tanan" just before he died from prostate cancer in November 12, 1980.

Final Thoughts

Rubi's contributions to Cebuano music were posthumously recognized by various entities, including Cebu City Mayor Florentino Solon and the Cebu Arts Foundation. The Jose R. Gullas Awards honored him alongside "Matud Nila" composer Ben Zubiri. Although he died with little material wealth, Vicente Rubi left a priceless and timeless gift to his family and the Filipino people – the joyous and enduring melody of "Kasadya Ning Taknaa," which continues to make Christmas merrier and brighter to this day.

Even to this day, he remains a largely forgotten man for all the cultural contributions he did. Most people know Jose Mari Chan as the face of Filipino Christmas but if we come to think of it, he should be the one.

References:

"Was "Ang Pasko Ay Sumapit" Stolen From Two Cebuano Musicians?," by Nicai de Guzman. Esquire. January 3, 2018.

"Vicente Rubi and the story of "Kasadya"," by Garry Lao. The Freeman. February 20, 2007.

"Where credit is due," by Ricardo Lo. The Philippine Star. May 15, 2002.

"The true story behind Ang Pasko ay Sumapit, other Filipino songs," by Ricardo Lo. The Philippine Star. December 1, 2014.

"A clarification on Kasadya ning Taknaa," by Bobit Avila. The Freeman. December 2, 2014.

"Bogus carol," by Juan Mercado. The Philippine Daily Inquirer. November 25, 2014.

Meet the man behind the song ‘Ang Pasko ay Sumapit’. GMA News Online. December 18, 2014.

"The Man Who Wrote The Greatest Filipino Christmas Carol Ever," by F. Valencia. Esquire. December 22, 2017.

"Unknown man behind PH immortal yuletide music ‘Ang Pasko Ay Sumapit’ is 98," by Tina Arceo-Dumlao. The Philippine Daily Inquirer. November 23, 2014.

Kasadya Ning Taknaa. Wikipedia.

List of Filipino Christmas carols and songs. Wikipedia.

The Untold Story of the Lost 'Darna' of Indonesia

2023-12-11T10:51:00.003+08:00

Many of us grew up knowing about the adventures of our favorite superheroine Darna in classic Pinoy komiks and later on the big screen. The iconic character was created by prolific comic book writer Mars Ravelo and artist Nestor Redondo for Pilipino Komiks issue 77 on May 13, 1950. It was actually reimagination of an older Ravelo character named Varga, which he also written and illustrated. It pre-dated Darna as it appeared in Bulaklak Magazine, volume 4 issue 17, on July 23, 1947.

The larger-than-life superheroine has outgrown her comic book universe and she later appeared in many films and TV series through the decades. Several actresses have portrayed Darna including the likes of Rosa del Rosario, Liza Moreno, Eva Montes, Gina Pareño, Vilma Santos, Lorna Tolentino, Rio Locsin, Sharon Cuneta, Nanette Medved, Anjanette Abayari, Regine Velasquez, Angel Locsin, Marian Rivera, Iza Calzado and Jane De Leon.

However, there is one version of Darna that went beyond our shores and even had a movie of her own - Darna Ajaib ("The Wonderful Darna"). If the Filipino comics adopt Marvel and DC Comic's multiverse then this would be the one. Produced in Indonesia for their own domestic film industry, the film was one of the many superhero films during the golden age of Indonesian exploitation films in the late 1970s and early 1990s. In fact, it's the only superheroine film they had.

As one of the oldest and more developed film industry in the region, it won't be a surprise to see some of our most iconic films ending up influencing another country's film industry. After all, imitation is the sincerest form of flattery. Interestingly, the Indonesian Darna was even introduced to foreign festivals (Canada, South Korea) later on its film showing history. And everything has gone full circle when our Darna (2022 TV series) was finally shown on Indonesian TV before it was unceremoniously cancelled.

The Socio-Political Milieu

The phenomenon of Indonesian exploitation films, including the creation of the Indonesian version of Darna, known as Darna Ajaib, can be attributed to the broader context of the country's film industry during the golden age of Indonesian exploitation films in the late 1970s and early 1990s.

Indonesian exploitation films of that era were known for their high adrenaline violence, sexuality, and a fusion of Western cinema elements with traditional folkloric and mythological stories. These films represented a unique form of cinema in Southeast Asia, with a focus on surrealistic, fantastical horror populated by shape-shifting martial arts warriors, demon-sorceresses, and other supernatural elements.

The genre provided a distinct regional identity to Indonesian cinema, offering a cinematic experience unlike any other. These films often explored traditional folklore, archetypes, and themes, blending them with Western influences to create a cinematic style that resonated with local audiences. Some filmmakers have used the medium as a platform to hide political messages against the long-standing regime of President Suharto, which also coincided with that of President Ferdinand Marcos.

Influence of Filipino Cinema

The popularity and influence of the Filipino superheroine Darna were widespread, not only in the Philippines but also in neighboring countries. Darna's character, with its superhero origin, transformation ability, mission to fight evil, and connections to family, became a template that could be adapted to suit the cultural nuances of other regions.

The success of Darna in Filipino cinema may have inspired Indonesian filmmakers to create their own version, particularly during a period when exploitation films were thriving and filmmakers were experimenting with various genres and narratives.

Horror Trends

The broader context of Indonesian horror trends, characterized by a shift from psychological horror to supernatural horror, played a role in shaping the narrative of Darna Ajaib. The film incorporated elements of Indonesian mysticism, horror, and teenage relationships.

The film's narrative, featuring a clash between the protagonist's powers and sinister forces, aligned with the prevalent themes in Indonesian horror films, where supernatural battles and moral choices were explored.

The Indonesian Darna

Before Darna Ajaib went on the big screen, there was an Indonesian comic of the same name by artist Armin Tanjung, which was obviously inspired by Ravelo's most famous work. It was later picked up for film adaptation by director Lilik Sudjio, who was also noted for his works copying foreign superhero films and tailored it to fit to Indonesian horror film fans at that time. Hundreds of films were produced during the decade that included Tarsan Retired (1976), Zorro Kemayoran (1976), and Gundala Putra Lightning (1981). Indonesian horror movies gained popularity globally in the early 1980s, featuring a mix of witchcraft, mystical martial arts, and gory scenes. In fact, the poster for Darna Ajaib is basically taken from the 1978 Superman movie (starring Christopher Reeve) including the pose and font used.

It's not a surprise that the Indonesian Darna would have departed from its Filipino origin story and geared toward a more mystical and dark magic kind of narrative. It may have been influenced by Ravelo's iconic character, they have reinvented it as their own. In fact, some Indonesian articles have made comparison with Wonder Woman (created by the American psychologist and writer William Moulton Marston and artist Harry G. Peter in 1941) instead of the Filipino Darna.

By comparison:

1. Superhero Origin from External Source: Both the Filipino Darna and the Indonesian Darna Ajaib gain their powers from external, supernatural sources. The Filipino Darna gets her powers from a celestial object, a white stone from the sky, while the Indonesian Darna Ajaib's powers come from a magical membrane that wraps around her when she was born.

Darna flying over Jakarta

2. Transformation Ability: In both cases, the protagonist has the ability to transform from their ordinary human form into a powerful superhero. The Filipino Darna transforms by saying her name, and the Indonesian Darna Ajaib has extraordinary powers that she obtained from a magical membrane.

3. Mission to Fight Evil: Both characters have a mission to face and combat forces of darkness and evil that afflict their respective worlds. They are sent to Earth with a purpose to use their powers for the greater good.

4. Adoption: The main characters, Narda in the Filipino version and Malia in the Indonesian version, are both adopted. They are raised by caring guardians after being orphaned or abandoned.

The Indonesian Darna wore costume with symbols tied up to indigenous mysticism

5. Connection with Family: The characters in both versions have connections to their families, whether biological or adopted. There are elements of family tragedy and mystery surrounding their origins.

6. Setting and Background: The settings and backgrounds of the stories are different. The Filipino Darna's story is set in the provincial town of Masambong, while the Indonesian Darna Ajaib's story is set in the city of Jakarta.

7. Friends and Relationships: The relationships and dynamics between the characters vary. In the Filipino version, Narda has a brother named Ding, and her relationships with her family are explored. In the Indonesian version, Malia, Darna, and Doddy form a trio of close friends, and romantic elements are introduced as they grow into teenagers.

Just like our Darna, she also fought bad guys

8. Nature of their Powers: Both the Filipino and Indonesian versions have superhuman strength, speed, and flight. However, Darna Ajaib has more mystical qualities that the Filipino version doesn't have - like the ability to shape shift.

9. Evil Origins: The source of the evil that the characters face differs. In the Indonesian version, Malia's true parents are mentioned as evil demon giants who order her to kill anyone who hurts her, including her friends. This adds a layer of complexity to the moral choices the characters must make.

The Origin Story

"Darna Ajaib" begins with two seemingly unrelated events in different parts of the world. Lastri, who lived in a village and was barren, miraculously becomes pregnant and gives birth to a daughter with the body of a cobra. Frightened by the unusual appearance of her child, Lastri dies, and her husband is killed by an evil force. Simultaneously, in Jakarta, Dewo's wife, pregnant for an extended period, gives birth to a daughter surrounded by strange phenomena, including blooming flowers and a magical membrane.

Darna and her evil counterparts were born with opposite circumstances

Twelve years later, Lastri's daughter, now named Malia, is adopted by her uncle and aunt. Malia possesses unknown and dangerous powers, prompting her to flee to Jakarta. In the city, she attends school and becomes close friends with Darna, Dewo's daughter, and Doddy. As teenagers, Malia, Darna, and Doddy experience romantic feelings, creating a complex dynamic among them.

Malia's strange powers resurface, leading to tragic consequences, including the death of Doddy's female cousin and eventually Doddy's mother. Malia discovers her true demonic parents, who command her to kill anyone who harms her, including her friends. Meanwhile, Darna learns about her extraordinary powers obtained from a magical membrane in a necklace.

As the relationships among Malia, Darna, and Doddy become entangled with jealousy and conflicts, the story unfolds into a tale of supernatural battles and moral choices. Malia's sinister powers and Darna's superhero abilities clash, leading to a confrontation between the two friends. Darna faces the challenge of choosing between her friendship with Malia and eradicating the evil inherited from Malia's demonic father.

Malia shows the evil in her

The narrative is characterized by its unique blend of Indonesian mysticism, horror elements, and the exploration of teenage relationships. "Darna Ajaib" takes the familiar Darna mythos and infuses it with a level of creepiness, creating an engaging story that combines Pinoy superhero goofiness with Indonesian freakiness. The film culminates in a showdown between Darna and the forces of evil, showcasing the protagonist's strength and determination in the face of supernatural threats.

The Face Behind Darna

Lydia Kandou was born to Rei Petrus Kandou and Maria Jacoba Petronella Giezekamp on February 21, 1963, in Jakarta. She is of mixed Indonesian-Dutch heritage with Filipino, Indian, and Minahasan lineage. She began her career as a model and transitioned to acting at the age of 16. Her debut in Has Manan's "Wanita Segala Zaman" marked the beginning of a prolific career that spanned over 20 films in the next five years.

Lydia Kandou (left) portrayed the titular character

Kandou's filmography includes diverse roles, from playing Chrisye's love interest in Syamsul Fuad's "Seindah Rembulan" to collaborating with the comedy troupe Warkop. Her talent was recognized when she received her first Citra Award nomination for Best Leading Actress at the 1984 Indonesian Film Festival.

In 1986, Kandou married Muslim singer-actor Jamal Mirdad in a civil service, sparking sensational news due to their interfaith marriage. The government did not recognize their marriage until 1995, leading to extensive legal discussions.

Despite the downturn in the Indonesian film industry in the early 1990s, Kandou continued to thrive. She received critical acclaim for her lead role in Nyak Abbas Akup's "Boneka dari Indiana," earning her first Citra Award win. Her career expanded to television, where she became a regular on shows like "Gara-Gara" and "Selendang Sutra Biru."

After a hiatus from feature films, Kandou made a return in 2004 with "d'Trex" and "Ketika." In 2011, she starred in the comedy "Kejarlah Jodoh Kau Kutangkap," referencing her earlier work.

Beyond her professional achievements, Kandou's personal life, including her marriage to Jamal Mirdad and their legal struggles, added to her public persona. She filed for divorce from Mirdad in 2013, and the couple has four children together.

Lydia Kandou's portrayal of Darna Ajaib in the film contributed to her diverse and accomplished career in the Indonesian entertainment industry. Her ability to tackle various roles and her historic wins at the Piala Citra solidify her legacy as a respected and influential figure in Indonesian cinema.

References:

Darna ajaib. IMDB.

Darna ajaib. Wikipedia Indonesia.

Darna Ajaib. Universitas STEKOM Semarang.

Darna Ajaib. Busan International Film Festival.

Darna Ajaib. Indonesian Film Center.

Darna Ajaib (Indonesia, 1980). Die, Danger, Die, Die, Kill.

Lydia Kandou. Wikipedia.

"Perjalanan Lydia Kandou, Artis Blasteran Belanda Filipina Memulai Karier dari Bintang Iklan," by Lintang Tribuana. iNews.id.

Selected Darna-related articles. Pelikula, Atbp.: 100 Years of Philippine Cinema 1919-2019.

Jakarta Screams: Horror & Exploitation Cinema of Indonesia. Spectacle Theater.

"Deconstructing fear in Indonesian cinema: Diachronic analysis of antagonist representations in half a century of Indonesian horror films 1970-2020," by Justito Adiprasetio. Cogent Arts & Humanities.

"Indonesian Film Culture in 1970s and 190s Malaysia," by Norman Yusoff. Cinemapoetica.

Blood, Guts, and Bad Acting: Inside the Indonesian B Movies of the 1980s. YouTube.

Destination Jakarta, a short history of Indonesian exploitation cinema. YouTube.

ABS-CBN brings Darna to Indonesia. ABS-CBN.

"ABS-CBN clears alleged cancellation of 'Darna' in Indonesia," by Stephanie Bernardino. Manila Bulletin.

The Unwritten Chapters: FIFA's Lost World Cups of 1942 and 1946

2023-11-30T10:06:00.009+08:00

What was the Jules Rimet trophy doing in Patagonia in 1942? (c) Il Nobile Calcio

Editor's Note: Just as the qualifying rounds of the 2026 FIFA World Cup in the United States, Canada, and Mexico kick-off, there were intriguing chapters in the history of the world's most prestigious global sports tournament that are shrouded in mystery. The 12-year gap that separated the 1938 and the 1950 editions was brought about by the unprecedented devastation and chaos of World War II, the uncertainties of early postwar reconstruction, and the rising tension of the Cold War. That's the official narrative as far as we are all concerned. Yet, there are stories that tell a different thing - there were the unofficial staging of the 1942 and 1946 FIFA World Cup. One place is where you would least likely expect.

In the annals of football history lies a tale seldom told — the story of FIFA's lost World Cups. A captivating narrative suspended in the tumultuous backdrop of global war and rising tensions of a new one, this controversial story unveils the hypothetical destinies of two tournaments, slated for 1942 in Germany and 1946 in Brazil, that never saw the light of day. As we unravel the threads of this intriguing saga, we traverse the early history of international football, where the seeds of global competition were sown amidst the Olympic Games. The rise of fascism casts a shadow over potential host nations, altering the course of football's premier event.

Through the lens of what could have been, we delve into the imagined landscapes of the 1942 FIFA World Cup in Germany and the 1946 FIFA World Cup in Brazil. Who were the favorites, and which cities would have hosted these historic tournaments? Amid the chaos of war, unofficial World Cups emerged, leaving an indelible mark on football history.

In the midst of uncertainties and speculations, we contemplate the burning question: Which country would have claimed victory in the lost FIFA World Cups?

Early History

The origin story of global football competition can be traced back to the venerable stages of the Summer Olympics, where the beautiful game took its first tentative steps onto the international scene. In the inaugural modern Olympic Games in Athens in 1896, football was notably absent, as the sport's global reach was still in its nascent stages. Nevertheless, historical records suggest that an unofficial football tournament might have been organized during these Games, featuring teams from Athens and Smyrna (Izmir), then part of the Ottoman Empire. However, this claim has been contested by some, including Bill Mallon, who asserts it as an error perpetuated in various texts.

International Football at the Olympics

It wasn't until the 1900 and 1904 Olympic Games, as well as the Intercalated Games of 1906, that football tournaments were contested. However, these early competitions involved various clubs and scratch teams, lacking the true international character that would later define the World Cup. Despite the International Olympic Committee (IOC) recognizing the 1900 and 1904 tournaments as official Olympic events, FIFA does not endorse this view, and the Intercalated Games are also not acknowledged today. Notably, in 1906, teams from Great Britain, Germany, Austria, the Netherlands, and France withdrew from an unofficial competition, leaving Denmark, Smyrna, Athens, and Thessaloniki to vie for glory, with Denmark emerging victorious.

The 1908 Olympics was the first time national teams competed

A pivotal moment arrived in the London Games of 1908 when the Football Association organized a proper international tournament featuring six teams. By 1912, the number of participating teams increased to eleven, with the Swedish Football Association taking charge of the organization. However, these early matches were often unbalanced, as evidenced by high-scoring games. Notable performances included Sophus Nielsen and Gottfried Fuchs, each scoring ten goals in a single match. The matches strictly adhered to amateurism, a reflection of the Olympic rules of the time, prohibiting countries from fielding their full senior national teams.

England secured convincing victories in the first two official Olympic football tournaments in 1908 and 1912, defeating Denmark on both occasions. The amateur nature of the contests meant that players, including some English members, were associated with professional clubs, such as Ivan Sharpe of Derby County, Harold Walden of Bradford City, and Vivian Woodward of Chelsea.

Uruguay as "World Champions"

The 1920s witnessed a transformative period for global football, particularly with the rise of Uruguay. The 1920 final against Belgium saw a significant protest as the Czechoslovakia national football team walked off the field to contest the refereeing of John Lewis and the militarized atmosphere in Antwerp. However, the 1924 and 1928 Summer Olympics marked a turning point, with Uruguay emerging as a dominant force in international football.

In the 1924 Olympics, Uruguay secured victory in the final against Switzerland with a resounding 3–0 scoreline. Four years later, in 1928, football took center stage as the most popular event at the games. The final, an all-South American affair, witnessed Uruguay triumph over Argentina with a 2–1 scoreline. This event is often regarded as "football's first world championship," as no other major international tournament existed at the time.

The back-to-back Olympic gold medallists were the inaugural World Cup winners

These tournaments prompted FIFA to reevaluate the role of the Olympics in representing the true strength of international football. The limitations imposed by the Olympic movement, which allowed only amateurs to participate, hindered nations from competing on equal footing. Inspired by the growing popularity of international soccer, FIFA envisioned the need for a dedicated international tournament, leading to the establishment of the World Cup.

The culmination of this vision occurred in 1930 when Uruguay hosted the inaugural FIFA World Cup, marking a historic moment in football history. The tournament saw Uruguay emerge as the first official world champions, winning all four of their games with a combined score of 15–1.

The Rise of Fascism

The success of the World Cup prompted subsequent editions in 1934 (Italy) and 1938 (France). However, the dark clouds of fascism began to cast a long shadow over the future of World Cup hosting. The rise of fascist regimes, particularly in Germany, had profound implications for the trajectory of the World Cup. The 1942 and 1946 editions were initially slated to be hosted by Germany and Brazil, respectively. The unfolding political landscape, with World War II on the horizon, cast doubt on the feasibility of these events. The impact of fascism on the world of football would be felt in subsequent years, influencing the choices of host nations and leaving an indelible mark on the sport's history.

The specter of war not only deprived the world of the 1942 and 1946 World Cups but also disrupted the football schedule for the Summer Olympics, which would have taken place in 1940 (Tokyo or Helsinki) and 1944 (London) had global conflict not intervened. As we delve into the hypothetical scenarios of the lost World Cups, the geopolitical backdrop of fascism becomes a crucial element in understanding the unfolding narrative of football's interrupted legacy.

Hosting the Next World Cup

Just as Italy celebrated their great victory at the 1938 World Cup in France, there was great expectation that the Azzurri would win it again in four years' time. No one had foreseen the outbreak of World War II even though conflicts had already started in faraway lands - the Italian invasion of Ethiopia in 1936 and the Marco Polo Bridge incident in 1937. At the same time, Nazi Germany already annexed the Rhineland and completed Anschluss with Austria by then. There was an air of appeasement all around so hosting the next World Cup would have gone to Germany by 1942.

Nothing wrong with that, right? Well, Europe was plunged into war after September 1, 1939, as German tanks and planes blitzed through Poland and eventually conquered most of the continent. Then Japan bombed Pearl Harbor on December 7, 1941, to plunge the whole world into a global war. By 1942, the Axis Powers were pushing the Allies to the brink.

The staging of the FIFA World Cup in 1942 faced considerable uncertainty and disruption. Even before Adolf Hitler became the undisputed leader of Germany, there was an official bid to host the tournament and a proposal was submitted at the 23rd FIFA Congress held on August 13, 1936, in Berlin. Concurrently, Brazil entered the fray by expressing its intent to host the prestigious event in June 1939.

However, the outbreak of hostilities cast a shadow over the plans for the 1942 World Cup. The escalating conflict led to the cancellation of further preparations, leaving the tournament in limbo without a designated host country. Consequently, the 1942 FIFA World Cup did not come to fruition, as the world found itself engulfed in the chaos of World War II.

The war, which raged on for several years, took a toll on FIFA's organizational capabilities. Struggling to maintain its operations, it faced severe constraints in both financial resources and personnel to strategize and plan for a post-war tournament once the hostilities ceased. As the war concluded in 1945, it became evident that FIFA, grappling with the aftermath, lacked the capacity to orchestrate a World Cup in 1946 as well.

In a symbolic twist of fate, FIFA's first meeting post-war took place on July 1, 1946—roughly the time when the 1946 World Cup would traditionally have been held. During this meeting, the organization acknowledged the impracticality of arranging a 1946 World Cup given the constraints and challenges it faced. Looking ahead, when FIFA plotted the schedule for the subsequent World Cup in 1949, the decision was made not to designate a specific host country.

Amidst the post-war landscape, the footballing world experienced a notable void in major international tournaments in 1946. However, one exception was the 1946 South American Championship, where Argentina emerged triumphant by defeating Brazil with a 2–0 scoreline on February 10, 1946. This championship served as a glimpse of footballing action during a year otherwise marked by the absence of a global spectacle, underscoring the impact of the war on the sporting calendar and FIFA's organizational capabilities.

Although FIFA never managed to organize a World Cup in 1942 and 1946, what if they did?

The 1942 FIFA World Cup in Germany

By this time, Nazi Germany was at its peak as its armies pushed for greater territorial gains toward the Soviet Union. If a FIFA World Cup were to push through, the occupied countries wouldn't be able to compete and if they did, it would be just token opposition for the host country. Neutral countries like Sweden and Switzerland might be able to send their teams. North and South American teams, sans the USA and the Dominion of Canada, won't risk sending their teams into an ongoing global conflict. The Japanese Empire might send its own team, including that of its puppet Manchukuo or any members of the so-called Greater East Asia Co-Prosperity Sphere like Siam, Indochina, Malaya, the Dutch East Indies, or the Philippines.

Meanwhile, captured Indian soldiers in North Africa may be forced to play for a token Indian team. As the whole African continent remained under colonial rule, there won't be an African team that will see action.

The selection of host cities and venues for the 1942 World Cup would have been a crucial decision. Unfortunately, the specifics of these choices remain speculative due to the cancellation of the tournament. The games would have been played in the same venues as the 1936 Summer Olympics in Berlin - Poststadion, Stadion am Gesundbrunnen, and Mommsenstadion. While the Olympiastadion hosts the final. Other cities would have included football hotbeds like Hamburg, Stuttgart, and Munich.

Who Were the Favorites to Win?

Determining the favorites for the hypothetical 1942 World Cup involves an analysis of the football landscape of the time. Uruguay, having secured victory in the Copa America on home soil shortly before the scheduled 1942 competition, held a distinct advantage. Their runner-up finishes in 1941 and 1939 showcased consistent prowess.

Brazil, while not yet achieving the heights of their later dominance, remained a formidable force. Their third-place finish in the 1938 World Cup demonstrated potential, and the home advantage could have propelled them to greater success.

Argentina, having narrowly lost to Uruguay in the 1942 Copa America final, presented a strong case for World Cup contention. The potential absence of home advantage for Uruguay could tip the scales in Argentina's favor.

Italy, Hungary, and Sweden, with notable performances in previous tournaments, would have been formidable contenders. However, the historical struggle of European teams in World Cups held in South America posed a challenge for them.

Considering recent Copa America results and regional advantage, South American powerhouses—Argentina, Brazil, and Uruguay—emerged as frontrunners. Elo Ratings as of December 31, 1941, placed Argentina at the forefront, emphasizing their strength. Uruguay's historical advantage over Brazil further highlighted the competitive landscape.

Factoring in recent Copa America results and home continent advantage, Argentina, Brazil, and Uruguay held superior odds compared to European nations. Elo Ratings, albeit not definitive, further emphasized the dominance of South American teams, with Argentina leading the pack.

Germany may have fielded the best possible talents plus qualified players from occupied countries like Austria and Czechoslovakia.

According to the Elo Ratings, here are the possible teams that might play in this World Cup:

1. Argentina (world's highest-ranked team)

2. Italy (reigning two-time World Cup winners / 1936 Olympic champions)

3. England (boycott)**

4. Uruguay (1942 South American champions)

5. Scotland (boycott)**

6. Nationalist Spain

7. Austria (as a separate team / 1936 Olympic runner-up)*

8. Germany (host)

9. Brazil

10. Croatia

11. Hungary (1938 FIFA World Cup runner-up)

12. Wales (boycott)**

13. Costa Rica

14. Mexico

15. Switzerland

16. Sweden

In case of boycotts, here are other teams that might fill up a 14-to-16-team tournament:

17. Sweden

18. Paraguay

20. Australia (boycott)**

21. Denmark (as a separate team)*

22. Ireland

23. South Africa (boycott)**

24. United States (boycott)**

25. Peru

26. France (boycott)**

27. Slovakia (as a separate team)*

28. Norway (as a separate team / 1936 Olympic third placer)*

29. Portugal

30. Netherlands (as a separate team)*

31. Egypt

32. Northern Ireland (boycott)**

33. China

34. Canada (boycott)**

35. Yugoslavia (as a separate team)*

36. Poland (as a separate team)*

37. Iran

38. British India (boycott)**

50. Cuba

54. Dutch East Indies (as a separate team)*

60. Turkey

74. Japan

*-Axis-occupied countries

**-part of the Allies/British Empire

Picking a Winner

In the hypothetical scenario of the 1942 World Cup, Argentina emerges as the likely victor. Bolstered by the prowess of "La Máquina," the legendary River Plate team of the 1940s, featuring stars like Juan Carlos Muñoz, José Manuel Moreno, and Alfredo Di Stéfano, Argentina possessed a formidable squad. Their dominance in the Copa America throughout the 1940s underscored their potential to clinch the World Cup title.

While Uruguay remained a worthy adversary, the absence of home advantage might have tilted the balance in Argentina's favor. The hypothetical continuation of World War II in the background could have further influenced the dynamics, potentially favoring Germany on its home turf.

In conclusion, the lost 1942 World Cup, robbed by the ravages of war, leaves us with tantalizing "what-ifs" and speculations. Argentina, with its footballing prowess and the formidable "La Máquina," stands out as the probable champion, but the unpredictable nature of football ensures that the outcome will forever remain a matter of conjecture.

The World Cup in Patagonia

According to Argentine journalist and writer Osvaldo Soriano, "the 1942 World Cup does not appear in any history book, but was played in Argentine Patagonia."

A 2011 mockumentary "Il Mundial Dimenticato" has reconstructed the mysterious story of the 1942 Patagonia World Soccer championship, never acknowledged by the official sports organizations, and which for decades has remained shrouded in legend without the winner ever being known. What makes it even more intriguing is the tournament featured an indigenous team (from present-day Argentina and Chile) - the Mapuche Indians playing for their own nation.

Shell-shocked at the Olympiastadion

While that mysterious World Cup was said to be played in the emptiness of the desert. A real World Cup final was said to have been played in Berlin after all!

Despite FIFA's omission to organize and officially recognize a World Cup in 1942, this high-stakes match in Nazi Germany, witnessed by nearly 100,000 spectators, was billed as the ultimate showdown between Europe's top two football teams – Nazi Germany and Sweden. The match, with its quasi-official status, holds recognition from the Unofficial Football World Championships as an "unofficial World Cup final." Notably, the details of this historic encounter are well-documented, featuring a definitive winner and the indisputable occurrence of the match.

Sweden, maintaining a neutral stance during the Second World War, obtained special permission from the British forces to travel to Berlin for this momentous "World Cup Final" against Germany. The stadium pulsated with the energy of 98,000 German supporters as Sweden took an early lead, going 1-0 up. Despite Germany's spirited comeback, establishing a 2-1 lead with goals from Lehner and Klingler, the Swedes had different plans. Henry Carlsson leveled the scores to 2-2 by halftime. In a moment of unpredictability, Malte Martensson clinched victory for Sweden in the 71st minute. Although no official trophy graced the occasion, and no visual evidence captures Sweden lifting a cup, steadfast Swedes persist in claiming this as their cherished World Cup triumph.

This assertion resonates with Sweden's football prowess in the 1930s, 1940s, and 1950s. Eventually, in 1958, Sweden secured a World Cup runner-up title, succumbing to Brazil in the final on home soil. Remarkably, this triumph for Sweden also marked the initiation of the decline of the Nazi German football team. By November 1942, the Nazi party had suspended all national football team games, compelling most players to enlist in the armed forces.

The 1946 FIFA World Cup in Brazil

The aftermath of World War II left the footballing world yearning to revive the grandeur of the FIFA World Cup. The cancellation of the 1942 and 1946 tournaments due to the war's upheavals meant that the global football community had been deprived of its most celebrated event for 12 long years. The dawn of a new era was marked by FIFA's decision to hold the 1950 World Cup in Brazil. However, the journey to this decision was fraught with considerations of tradition, logistical challenges, and the desire to bring nations together once more.

With the war ending in 1945, discussions about reviving the World Cup began. Initially slated for 1946, it was quickly realized that organizing such an event within a year was impractical. Contemplations ensued, and the idea of shifting the tournament to 1949 in Brazil was suggested. However, tradition prevailed, and the decision was rationalized, resetting the event to 1950. Brazil, a nation passionate about football, emerged as the chosen host.

As the sole candidate largely untouched by the war, Brazil stood as the natural host for the 1950 World Cup. The game was flourishing in major cities like Rio de Janeiro and Sao Paulo, and Brazil had been frontrunner for the canceled 1942 World Cup. The choice of Brazil was not just a practical one but also symbolic—a nation waiting two decades to host the pinnacle of footballing glory.

However, recovering the physical World Cup trophy, the Jules Rimet trophy, proved to be a unique challenge. Held by defending champion Italy, concerns arose during the war that the trophy might be lost, plundered, or melted down for financing the war effort. Ottorino Barassi, an executive at the Italian FA, played a crucial role in safeguarding the trophy, ensuring its return to FIFA in 1946.

Who Were the Favorites to Win?

The football landscape in 1946 was teeming with potential powerhouses. The unofficial World Cup final between Argentina and Brazil in the South American Championship added an extra layer of anticipation. Argentina, victors in that encounter, was considered by many South Americans as the unofficial 1946 world champions, although FIFA did not officially recognize it.

Argentina might have been the favorite to win it all (c) Futebol Portenho

The hypothetical World Cup in 1946 would have showcased footballing giants like Argentina with the formidable attack led by Angel Labruna and Adolfo Pedernera, possibly joined by a young Alfredo Di Stefano. England, featuring Tom Finney and Stanley Matthews, and Italy with the legendary "Il Grande Torino" side would have been strong contenders. Hungary, Spain, Sweden, Scotland, and Brazil, who would later win the 1949 Copa America, were also part of this footballing tapestry.

Despite the fact that most of the countries (especially in Europe, particularly Germany and Italy) were ravaged by the war, many national teams actually played a lot of competitive fixtures in 1945-46. It would be intriguing to see if Asian and African teams would have managed to participate and travel thousands of miles away to play in Brazil as many of these countries are in the process of decolonization. Germany, Italy, Japan, and their erstwhile Axis allies might be banned from playing in the competition.

According to the Elo Ratings, here are the possible teams that might play in this World Cup:

1. Argentina (world's highest-ranked team / 1946 South American champions)

2. Italy (reigning two-time World Cup winners / 1936 Olympic champions

3. Brazil (1950 FIFA World Cup runner-up)

4. England

5. Scotland

6. Spain

8. Hungary

9. Wales

10. Austria

11. Uruguay (1950 FIFA World Cup winners)

12. Czechoslovakia

13. Sweden (1948 Olympic Champions)

14. Mexico

15. Paraguay

16. Switzerland

In case of boycotts, here are other teams that might fill up a 14-to-16-team tournament:

17. Denmark (1948 Olympic third placer)

18. France

20. Australia

21. Ireland

22. South Africa

23. United States

24. Portugal

26. Peru

27. Chile

28. Netherlands

29. Yugoslavia (1948 Olympic runner up)

30. Northern Ireland

31. Egypt

32. China

34. Canada

36. Poland

38. British India

39. Norway

42. Romania

43. Costa Rica

45. Soviet Union

47. Belgium

50. Colombia

52. El Salvador

55. Indonesia (formerly Dutch East Indies)

Picking a Winner

Selecting a potential winner in this alternate reality is a daunting task. Argentina, having defeated Brazil in the unofficial 1946 world championship match, might have carried that momentum. However, the depth and talent of other teams, especially those from Europe, could have posed significant challenges. However, it won't be enough for outsiders to win it all as European teams have historically performed subpar away from home and it was only in 2016 that Germany won the World Cup in South America (even demolishing Brazil along the way).

The 1946 World Cup, had it taken place, would have marked the end of football's isolation and the beginning of the global game, providing fans with a spectacle that transcended geographical and ideological boundaries.

Final Thoughts

In conclusion, the lost World Cups of 1942 and 1946 remain as unwritten chapters in the history of the FIFA World Cup. The impact of World War II on these tournaments altered the course of football history, giving rise to unofficial competitions and leaving fans to ponder the what-ifs. While we can only speculate on the outcomes, the resilience of the sport prevailed, and the subsequent editions of the World Cup played a crucial role in healing the wounds of war and bringing nations together on the football pitch.

References:

"Which Country Would Have Won The Lost 1942 FIFA World Cup?" by Sebastian Stiernspetz. Last Word on Sports.

"A tournament unlike any other," by Gabriele Marcotti. ESPN.

Germany vs Sweden 1942. The Unofficial World Championships.

"Il Mondiale dimenticato del 1942. Lo sport diventa leggenda." Il Nobile Calcio.

"Why Wasn't There a World Cup in 1942 or 1946?" by Jonny Blair. Culture Trip.

"Backpacking Football Geek: Who Won the 1942 World Cup?" by Jonny Blair. Don't Stop Living.

"Backpacking Football Geek: Who Won the 1946 World Cup?" by Jonny Blair. Don't Stop Living.

"Who would have won in the 1942 and 1946 World Cups?" by Incraigulous. Reddit.

History of the FIFA World Cup. Wikipedia.

FIFA International Friendlies - 1941. Global Sports Archive.

FIFA International Friendlies - 1942. Global Sports Archive.

FIFA International Friendlies - 1943. Global Sports Archive.

FIFA International Friendlies - 1944. Global Sports Archive.

FIFA International Friendlies - 1945. Global Sports Archive.

FIFA International Friendlies - 1946. Global Sports Archive.

World Football Elo Ratings: Year 1941.

World Football Elo Ratings: Year 1942.

World Football Elo Ratings: Year 1943.

World Football Elo Ratings: Year 1944.

World Football Elo Ratings: Year 1945.

World Football Elo Ratings: Year 1946.

Unofficial World Championship. RSSSF.

Unofficial Football World Championships. Wikipedia.

Il Mundial Dimenticato. YouTube search results.

Cebu Urban Legend: The Sisters of Perpetual Succour Hospital

2023-11-27T08:46:00.001+08:00

Cebu, a city steeped in history and mystique, holds within its bounds a tale that whispers through the corridors of Perpetual Succour Hospital. Beyond the realm of medical charts and bustling hallways, an urban legend weaves itself into the very fabric of this healthcare institution. Join us on a journey to explore the haunting tales that have lingered within the hospital walls.

The Origin Story

Perpetual Succour Hospital, with its roots tracing back to a modest wooden house, tended by the Sisters of St. Paul of Chartres, has a history etched in both resilience and compassion. In the throes of war, Japanese bombs razed the hospital, compelling the nuns and patients to seek refuge in Iloilo. The year 1951 saw their return to Cebu, and by the late 1950s, the hospital stood tall, a beacon of healing.

Despite its noble mission, the hospital became a canvas for eerie tales. Numerous accounts tell of a nun pacing the corridors, offering solace to souls on the brink of departing this world. The Sisters, it is said, lingered to provide comfort, a duty extending beyond the physical realm.

The tales of haunting within the hospital walls find their roots in the unique history of its founders, Dr. Josefina Singson Florendo and Dr. Raymundo T. Macaraeg. Their commitment to building the hospital as a symbol of gratitude to Our Lady of Perpetual Succour, following the successful birth of their only child, adds a layer of mystique to the institution's narrative.

The Myth and Legend

The legends surrounding the haunting at Perpetual Succour Hospital delve into the supernatural. Witnesses, including hospital personnel, share stories of encountering spectral figures. A nun, gracefully traversing the corridors day and night, becomes a recurring apparition. Some even claim to witness the Sisters entering or leaving patients' rooms, offering an otherworldly presence during pivotal moments.

Dr. Florendo is said to linger in the hospital she helped build. The ghostly manifestations include a little girl playing hide and seek in the corridors, a lady in her 40s flushing a toilet, and a stocky, short man in his 30s wandering uneasily. These apparitions, as described by those who have experienced them, contribute to the mysterious aura surrounding the hospital.

The haunting takes on an ethereal quality, with beliefs that these apparitions are harbingers of imminent transitions to the afterlife. The notion that those visited by the Sisters are soon to depart adds a layer of mystique to the hospital's already rich history.

Finding the Truth

In our quest to unveil the veracity of these haunting tales, we encounter a real-world account that adds a layer of complexity to the narrative. A blogger recounts an experience during a routine hospital treatment.

His narrative is detailed and introspective. The account speaks of hearing voices and witnessing apparitions, including a little girl playing in the corridors and a lady in her 40s appearing uneasy. The story raises questions about the boundary between the supernatural and medical explanations, as he grapples with the effects of the treatment.

However, a pivotal moment comes when he consults with a doctor, who dismisses the experience as unlikely hallucinations or delusions. The revelation challenges the assumption that these haunting tales are mere figments of the imagination.

The haunting thus faces scrutiny under the lens of medical reasoning. The juxtaposition of eerie encounters with the logical explanations of medical professionals adds layers of complexity to the urban legend.

Conclusion

As we navigate through the shadows of Perpetual Succour Hospital's haunting, the lines between legend and reality blur. The hospital's rich history, marked by wartime resilience and a commitment to healing, intertwines with spectral tales that linger within its walls.

There is one thing to point out some people tend to associate hauntings with old hospitals. It is common for some patients to die in hospitals from a variety of serious illnesses, diseases, and other medical complications but that doesn't mean that they would haunt the living long after the pass away. It's also difficult to tie it up with the Japanese atrocities in World War 2 since the hospital did not exist yet.

Whether one attributes the apparitions to the compassionate duty of the Sisters or seeks medical reasoning for supernatural encounters, the haunting stands as a testament to the city's enigmatic spirit. As we peel back the layers of this urban legend, we are left with a narrative that transcends the ordinary, inviting us to ponder the mysteries that echo through the corridors of Cebu's timeless healthcare institution.

Resources:

"These Are Some of Cebu's Creepiest Urban Legends," by Nicolo Nasol.

"Hallucination, delusion or was it really ghosts at the hospital's alley?" by Verge Gamotan.

Are all hospitals haunted?

5 Underrated Cebu Historical Landmarks You Should Visit on Your Next Trip

2023-11-14T11:58:00.005+08:00

As the Philippines’ oldest city and former capital, there are plenty of historic places in Cebu to visit. Besides its rich history, it’s a booming economic hub and a great spot to work remotely.

However, if you’re tired of the usual tourist spots like Magellan’s Cross, Basilica Minore del Santo Nino de Cebu, and Mactan Shrine, check out these underrated historical landmarks in Cebu.

Yap-Sandiego House

Built between 1675 and 1700 by Don Juan Yap for his growing family, the Yap-Sandiego house is one of the oldest houses in the Philippines.

It owes its longevity to its construction: coral stones and egg whites comprise its walls, while its roof is made of molave, balayong, and terracotta glue.

Today, this well-preserved house is a museum displaying the cultural heritage of Cebu during the Spanish era. It houses relics like chinaware, cutlery, figurines, and other handicrafts made by masters of the time. Visitors can even touch some of the items, though they should do so with the utmost care.

The ancestral house is currently under the administration of Val Sandiego, the great-great-grandson of Dona Maria Yap-Sandiego. It’s located near Colon St., the oldest street in the Philippines, and the entrance fee is fifty pesos (PHP 50).

Casa Gorordo

Another of the underrated historical landmarks in Cebu is Casa Gorordo.

Built in the 1850s, it was originally owned by Alejandro Reynes y Rosales. Isidro Gorordo, a merchant from the Basque province of Vizcaya in Spain, bought the house. Four generations of the Gorordo family lived there, including Cebu’s first native Filipino bishop, Juan Gorordo.

Like the Yap-Sandiego house, Casa Gorordo is another example of a colonial-era house known as a “balay nga tisa,” or house with a tiled roof. Its architecture combines Spanish, Filipino, and Chinese influences, making it unique to the Philippines.

This house features several artifacts and personal belongings of the Gorordo family, chronicling the changes in the family’s lifestyle and Cebuano society and culture.

It is owned and managed by the Ramon Aboitiz Foundation Inc. (RAFI) and was entitled a National Historical Landmark in 1991 by the National Historical Institute of the Philippines (NHIP). It is open from Monday to Saturday, 9 am to 5 pm.

Museo Sugbo

One of the relatively newer historical and heritage sites in Cebu is the Museo Sugbo (Cebu Museum).

Located in the former Cebu Provincial Detention and Rehabilitation Center (CPDRC), this museum houses four galleries in two different buildings. (Yes, it’s the same building that housed the famous Cebu Dancing Inmates.)

The first one, the Museum of Philippine Political History, appropriately enough, houses the political history gallery and the presidential gallery.

The former displays the country’s political development from the pre-colonial period to the present; the latter showcases various Philippine presidents with their portraits and signatures engraved in twenty-four-karat gold.

The other two galleries sit across from the Museum of Philippine Political History. They house archaeological artifacts excavated from Cebu, including gold and ceramics from the 1600 San Diego shipwreck.

The museum aside, the CPDRC, or the Carcel de Cebu, is another colonial-era site in Cebu. The prison was designed in 1869 and was meant to be the primary prison in Visayas due to its size. It is said that the coral blocks from the demolished Parian Church were used to build parts of the prison.

The Jesuit House

If you’re visiting the former business district of Parian, one underrated historical landmark you shouldn’t miss is the Museo Parian sa Sugbo - 1730 Jesuit House or just the Jesuit House.

This two-story house, which was once the headquarters of the Jesuits in the 1700s, is now located in a seemingly mundane warehouse. It is owned by Jaime Sy, whose family purchased it from the Alvarez family in the 1960s.

Initially, he wanted to turn the compound into a warehouse. However, once he discovered its historical significance, he changed his mind.

The museum is divided into two houses connected by a bridge. House A contains bedrooms and precious memorabilia left behind by the Jesuits when they stayed there. House B features a living room, dining room, and kitchen.

There is a third building, which was supposed to be a watchtower, as well. However, only its base remains today, but there is a tattered painting of the residence that shows what it might have looked like.

Cebu Provincial Capitol

One of the more modern yet underrated historical landmarks in Cebu is the province’s current Capitol Building. It’s considered one of the oldest and most beautiful buildings in the country and has been declared a national landmark for its part in Cebu’s history.

Designed by Juan M. Arellano, the architect who also designed the Manila Metropolitan Theater, the then Legislative Building (now the National Museum of Fine Arts), and the Manila Central Post Office, it’s inspired by the US Capitol Building.

It was finished and inaugurated in 1938 and was heavily damaged during World War 2. Fortunately, it was rehabilitated after the war and remains the seat of government in Cebu today. Thus, when visiting this historic landmark, be mindful of your behavior.

Unknown Historical Gems in the Queen City of the South

Despite its many perks, working from home can get boring sometimes. Fortunately, the Philippines has plenty of scenic and historic sites from where you can work remotely. One such destination is Cebu City.

Whether you’re tired of going to the usual haunts there or want to know more about the city’s rich history, the five underrated historical landmarks you should visit on your next trip to Cebu listed above ought to suffice.

If you’re looking for online job opportunities so you can finance your next Cebu trip, Remote Staff is here to help.

Our jobs list has various available positions for you to choose from, ranging from virtual assistant jobs and data entry jobs to engineering and architecture jobs.

Good luck!

'Pa Shout-out Po': Understanding this Online Obsession

2023-10-26T11:28:00.001+08:00

In the age of social media, Filipinos have taken the concept of "shout-outs" to a whole new level. It's not uncommon to see individuals, often referred to as "shout-out hosts," giving shout-outs to people on social media livestreams. But what is the reason behind this peculiar fascination with getting shout-outs? In this article, we will delve into the cultural roots, the evolution of shout-outs, and the possible future of this phenomenon.

The Origins

The term "shout-out" is now a household word in the Philippines, thanks to the explosion of social media and live streaming platforms. A shout-out typically involves someone, often the host or broadcaster, giving a public acknowledgment to an individual by mentioning their name or a short message during a live stream or broadcast. This practice has become increasingly popular on platforms like Facebook and YouTube and even extends to bootleg NBA game broadcasts. Before we explore the cultural roots of this fascination, let's first define the term and look at its etymology.

Etymology

The term "shout-out" or "shoutout" is a blend of "shout" and "out." It essentially means calling out or acknowledging someone in a public manner. The origin of this term is firmly rooted in the rise of social media and online content creation.

According to the Merriam-Webster dictionary, it is a public expression of greeting, praise, or acknowledgement directed toward a person or group often as part of a performance, recording, or broadcast. It can be used both as a noun and a verb.

Interestingly, it can be traced back as early as 1862 in the southern United States where African-American congregations sang gospel songs, which they referred to as shouts. These churches were themselves known as shouters. There are nine synonyms, antonyms, idiomatic expressions, and related words for shout-out: vociferate, call, yell, holler, hollo, shout, cry, scream, and squall. However, only shout-out became the catch-all phrase for someone who wanted their names to be heard by everyone.

In the modern age, it was African-American performers in the hip-hop and R&B genres during the late 1980s and 1990s popularized the phrase. In 1983, DJ Ralph McDaniels had a show on WLIW in NYC called "Video Music Box". It was the original hip-hop music video program and he would use the term as a sort of catchphrase for people to say hello over the airwaves to their friends and family. He called it a "shout-out."

It is said to have been used even earlier than that of Video Music Box. There was another pioneering hip-hop radio DJ named Red Alert who hosted his own show on 98.7 Kiss FM. During his show, he would take calls and instruct the caller to "Shout 'em out," which means greetings and salutations to a person or location, e.g. your significant other, family, your neighborhood, etc. It was later picked up by McDaniels later on.

Cultural Roots

To understand why Filipinos are so obsessed with getting shout-outs, we must delve into the cultural roots of this phenomenon. Filipinos have a strong sense of community and connection, and shout-outs provide a way for individuals to feel recognized and connected to a broader audience. Even before the Internet, Filipinos had a penchant for being acknowledged publicly.

Bayanihan Spirit: The "bayanihan" spirit is a fundamental aspect of Filipino culture. It refers to the communal unity and cooperation within communities to achieve a common goal. Filipinos have a long history of helping one another and coming together, especially in times of need. Shout-outs reflect this spirit by acknowledging and celebrating individuals within the community, fostering a sense of togetherness and shared identity.

Strong Sense of Family: Family holds a central place in Filipino culture. It's not just limited to immediate family but extends to extended family and even close friends. Shout-outs are a way to connect with and recognize family members, friends, and loved ones, whether they are near or far. This strong familial connection is deeply rooted in Filipino culture and values.

Oral Tradition: Filipino culture has a rich history of oral tradition, storytelling, and oral literature. Shout-outs can be seen as an extension of this tradition. In the past, stories, knowledge, and information were passed down through generations via spoken word. Shout-outs serve as a contemporary means of verbal communication and acknowledgment.

Hospitality and Warmth: Filipinos are known for their warmth and hospitality. They often go out of their way to make guests feel welcome and appreciated. Shout-outs are a digital form of this hospitality, where individuals make others feel valued and recognized. It's a way to express gratitude and show appreciation, reflecting the cultural norms of the Philippines.

Influence of Radio Broadcasting: Shout-outs have historical roots in the realm of radio broadcasting. Before the internet and social media, radio was a primary source of entertainment and information in the Philippines. Late-night radio shows and music programs would often include shout-outs where people could request songs and have their names mentioned on the air. This practice created a sense of community and shared experiences among listeners.

Religious and Festive Traditions: Many Filipino festivals and religious events involve public acknowledgments and celebrations. Whether it's a religious fiesta, a town festival, or a family celebration, shout-outs are commonly used to express gratitude and recognition. The religious and festive traditions of the Philippines have had a significant influence on the practice of shout-outs.

Sense of Belonging: Filipinos have a deep desire for belonging and being part of a larger community. Shout-outs fulfill this need by providing a sense of inclusion and connectedness. In a diverse and culturally rich country like the Philippines, shout-outs create a shared space for people from different backgrounds to come together.

The Golden Age of Radio

Before the Internet, Filipinos had other avenues for getting their names mentioned in public spaces. They often made song requests on radio stations, which would be accompanied by a shout-out to the person making the request. This practice was particularly popular during late-night radio shows and helped create a sense of camaraderie among listeners.

Additionally, talk radio programs that offered relationship advice, life coaching, and public discussions allowed individuals to call in and have their voices heard on the airwaves. Getting their names mentioned on these programs not only validated their existence but also served as a means of showing off to friends and family that they had made it to the radio waves.

Just as the term became quite common in the United States, Filipinos were introduced to the phenomenon later on as we got exposed to more American pop culture on the radio with the next generation of radio DJs picking up the catchphrase and using it to great effect. Unlike television, listeners have direct communication with the DJ via telephone so that they can request specific songs, send out greetings, and even talk live on the airwaves.

The DJs played a crucial role in establishing a personal connection with their listeners. They would mention the names of those who sent in song requests and shout-outs, creating a sense of intimacy and community. This connection made listeners feel valued and acknowledged. In an age before social media, shout-outs on the radio became a form of social engagement. Listeners would eagerly wait for their shout-outs to be read on the airwaves, and it was a source of excitement and enjoyment. It allowed people to communicate with a wide audience without the need for face-to-face interactions.

The shout-out culture on the radio also had cultural significance. It aligned with the Filipino tradition of expressing gratitude and acknowledgment publicly, which is deeply ingrained in Filipino customs and values. Shout-outs served as a way to publicly recognize the importance of friends, family, and loved ones. The practice of shout-outs contributed to community building within the listening audience. It created a sense of belonging and camaraderie, as people could share their experiences and connect with others who were going through similar situations.

The Rise of Social Media

The advent of social media and live streaming has transformed the "shout-out culture." Today, many Filipinos eagerly tune in to live streams and pay shout-out hosts to get their names mentioned in front of a live audience. This has become a form of digital social validation and a way to connect with a wider community.

Even more intriguingly, some streamers have found innovative ways to monetize this practice. Bootleg NBA game broadcasters on Facebook, for instance, have leveraged shout-outs to generate income. Viewers who send virtual gifts or tips often receive a shout-out in return, creating a symbiotic relationship between content creators and their audience.

Some of these live streams promote online gambling sites

Since not everyone has access to live NBA games on TV and mobile, many have chosen to watch it on bootleg sites and live streams on Facebook. It's interesting to see why some people would choose the latter even if it's covered with unnecessary text overlays like the "donation counter" and the name of the top donor. Well, the thing is...the live stream is not hidden under a paywall like that of the NBA app and other local streaming sites. Oddly, some people offer bigger donations to bootleg sites and even legit businesses advertise it there. The truth is, that big NBA games involving the most popular teams drive in a lot of people so more "paid shout-outs" are going to happen.

The live stream experience can be divisive - some people like it while others hate it. If you want to watch the game properly without all the distractions then it's not for you. Others love the social component of watching it since you can taunt and talk smack to other teams' fans. On the other hand, you get to hear your name or message broadcast live for all viewers to see.

It also coincided with the rise of social media influencers and content creators wherein they use "shout-outs" to gratify their followers and make as much money as possible effortlessly. Moreover, many of them have even abused the use of "shout-outs" as a currency to get as many free goods and services as possible.

Foreign YouTubers and Internet celebrities have also capitalized on the "shout-out" culture as a way to bait Filipinos to watch their streams, follow their social media accounts, and stay loyal. Filipino baiting is a way to get more engagement.

The Future

As technology continues to advance, the "shout-out" culture in the Philippines is likely to evolve further. With the rise of virtual reality, augmented reality, and other immersive technologies, the way Filipinos seek and experience shout-outs may change. These changes will likely be driven by the desire for even more personalized and engaging interactions on digital platforms.

The obsession with getting shout-outs among Filipinos is a fascinating cultural phenomenon deeply rooted in a strong sense of community and connection. From radio shout-outs to the digital age of social media, the desire to be recognized and acknowledged in public spaces remains a constant. As technology continues to evolve, the way shout-outs are sought and delivered will undoubtedly change, but the core human desire for connection and recognition will remain a driving force behind this unique Filipino practice.

Shout-out to the Filipinos for their unwavering sense of community and their creative ways of connecting in the digital world.

References:

"Giving a shoutout to shout (and homie)," by Warren Clemens. The Globe and Mail.

Shout-out Definition. Merriam-Webster Dictionary.

Shout-out. Wiktionary.

"The origin of ‘shout-out’," by Faye Valencia. NewsBytes.PH.

"Filipino Actor Slammed After Offering to Pay a Graphic Designer With a ‘Shout Out’," by Carl Samson. NextShark.

Alternate Outcomes: General Luna's Revenge

2023-10-06T09:00:00.005+08:00

In the annals of history, certain events have the power to create ripples that forever change the course of a nation's destiny. One such pivotal moment in Philippine history was the assassination of General Antonio Luna in Cabanatuan in 1899. But what if, by some twist of fate, Luna had survived that fateful day? How might the Philippines have evolved differently? In this alternate history, we explore the intriguing possibilities that unfold when Luna lives to shape the fate of the nation.

The Narrow Escape

In our alternate timeline, the plot to assassinate General Antonio Luna in Cabanatuan goes awry. Luna, though wounded, manages to evade his would-be assassins and escapes with his life intact. This unexpected turn of events sets in motion a sequence of events that would forever alter the trajectory of the Philippine Republic.

Surviving the assassination attempt only serves to strengthen Luna's resolve. He recognizes the depth of betrayal within the ranks and becomes determined to weed out the conspirators who sought to undermine his leadership. Luna's reputation for being a fierce and relentless military strategist remains unscathed.

The Ousting of Aguinaldo

With Luna alive and more resolute than ever, a power struggle ensues within the Philippine Revolutionary Government. Emilio Aguinaldo, who had previously ordered the assassination of Luna, now faces a formidable opponent who commands the loyalty of many key figures within the revolution.

In this alternate history, Luna's charisma, strategic brilliance, and unyielding commitment to the cause propel him to the forefront of the revolutionary movement. Aguinaldo, increasingly isolated, loses the support of key allies and ultimately resigns from his position as the leader of the Philippine Republic.

A Different Path to Independence

With Luna at the helm, the Philippine Revolution takes a different course. Luna's vision for the nation emphasizes a disciplined and united front against foreign colonial forces. He advocates for a stronger, centralized government to ensure stability during the tumultuous times of revolution.

Under Luna's leadership, the Philippine Revolutionary Army undergoes a comprehensive overhaul. Training becomes more rigorous, discipline is enforced, and a sense of unity and purpose pervades the ranks. Luna's military prowess and his insistence on modernizing the armed forces give the Filipino fighters a formidable advantage.

International Diplomacy

Recognizing the need for international support, Luna dispatches envoys to establish diplomatic relations with foreign governments sympathetic to the Philippine cause. This diplomatic outreach garners attention from nations like the United States and even some European powers, leading to increased international backing for the Filipino struggle.

In our alternate history, the strengthened Filipino military, coupled with international diplomatic pressure, forces a more favorable negotiation process with the United States. While the Philippines still seeks independence, the outcome avoids the devastating Philippine-American War that marked the actual timeline.

An Independent Philippines

Under Luna's dynamic leadership, the Philippines secures its independence from foreign colonial rule. The nation emerges as a unified and formidable force, both militarily and politically. Luna's vision of a strong and centralized government prevails, providing stability and continuity during the early years of independence.

Luna's legacy extends far beyond the battlefield. His emphasis on education, modernization, and unity leaves an indelible mark on the Philippines. The nation experiences rapid industrialization and development, laying the foundations for a prosperous future.

Luna's Destiny

In this alternate history, the survival of General Antonio Luna proves to be the catalyst for a different path to Philippine independence. Luna's leadership, characterized by his unwavering commitment and strategic brilliance, ushers in an era of stability, strength, and international support for the fledgling nation.

While the butterfly effect may have forever altered the course of Philippine history in this scenario, it underscores the profound impact that individuals can have on the destiny of a nation. General Antonio Luna's triumph against adversity becomes a testament to the enduring spirit of the Filipino people and their relentless pursuit of self-determination and freedom.

Lost Landmarks of Cebu: Jai Alai Building

2023-10-02T12:49:00.004+08:00

Gaisano Grand Jai Alai superimposed on the old playing venue

The Lost Landmarks of Cebu is an article series that features prominent buildings and monuments in Cebu that no longer exist. If you have suggestions or want to contribute, please feel free to message us on our Facebook page.

Speak of Cebu and images of the Sto. Niño, the province’s patron, come to mind. And so does the valiant Lapu-Lapu, sweet mangoes, the famous lechon, guitars and beaches. But it is more than that. Cebu is a special and beautiful place. It is also my home. Beyond these iconic images lies the story of a lost landmark that holds a special place in the hearts of many Cebuanos - the Jai Alai Building. It may not be as architecturally stylish as its Art Deco counterpart in Manila, but it sure left an indelible mark on older people who had memories of that sport.

Historical Background

Jai alai, a sport that once gripped the hearts of Cebuanos during the 60s, 70s, and parts of the 80s, traces its origins to the Basque region of Spain. It's a game of exhilarating speed, where pelotaris (jai alai players) fling a hard rubber ball, called a pelota, at rocket speed using a cesta, a curved basket attached to their hand. The game is about the breathtaking speed and the excitement it brings to the people.

Basque pelotaris taught Cebuanos how to play the game

Jai alai found its way to Cebu, becoming a significant part of the local culture. It was more than just a sport; it became intertwined with the illegal numbers game known as 'masiao.' Bets were placed at the back of homes, with every 25-centavo wager potentially yielding a peso or more. Today, masiao has transformed into suwertres or swertres, but the memories of those betting days linger.

The Cebuano jai alai scene had its heroes, local talents who trained hard, starting as neighborhood boys within the fronton or cancha in Mambaling. Being drafted as a pelotari in Manila was a ticket to success and wealth. The sport flourished under the patronage of President Ferdinand E. Marcos, who recognized its potential to combat illegal gambling. He issued Presidential Decree No. 1507 in 1978, granting the Philippine Games and Holiday Corporation (now PAGCOR) a franchise to operate, construct, and maintain a fronton for Basque Pelota in Cebu City.

Remember this paper being passed around back in the day?

The Jai Alai Fronton in Cebu City was once a vibrant hub of activity, but today, it stands as a shadow of its former self. Leaking roofs, rusting screens, and broken wood flooring tell tales of its glorious past. Yet, they fail to dampen the competitive spirit of former players and enthusiasts who still gather every week to fling the pelota for an afternoon of camaraderie and fun.

Beyond Cebu, a cancha in Quezon City also carries the legacy of this thrilling sport. The echoes of jai alai's past glory still resonate in the hearts of those who remember the exhilaration it brought.

Future Development

A few years ago, I witnessed construction workers fencing off the compound where the old jai alai building stands. News of a mall replacing the iconic building in Mambaling, left me with mixed emotions. The jai alai building had been a part of my personal history, a place where memories were made.

The building, which had once housed the excitement of jai alai matches and the fervor of bettors, is now set to make way for modernity. The old structure, with its cool interiors and stories of clandestine rendezvous, will be replaced by a mall that will cater to a new generation.

As the construction progresses, I can't help but think about the countless stories within those walls. Friends gathering to enjoy the cool atmosphere, young couples on a budget date, and even the not-so-savory activities that occurred when it was abandoned in the 1990s—all are a part of its history.

The jai alai building, with its Spanish inscription, "El Fallo del Juez es inapelable" (The judge’s decision is final), was not just a structure; it was a witness to the unfolding stories of Cebu's past.

While change is inevitable, the name "jai alai" will always hold a special place in the hearts of Cebuanos. It transcends the bricks and mortar of the building; it is a part of our heritage, a reminder of a bygone era when Cebuans gathered to witness the fastest sport in the world.

As we bid farewell to the Jai Alai Building and welcome the new mall, let us remember the history it represents. Let us cherish the memories of a time when the pelota flew at breakneck speeds, and the crowd's cheers filled the air. The Jai Alai Building may be gone, but its legacy lives on in the hearts of Cebuanos, reminding us of a unique and thrilling chapter in our history.

References:

"The Cebu Jai-Alai Fronton," by Clarence Paul Oaminal. The Freeman.

"Pelota, pelotari, cesta: Jai alai is still alive in Cebu," by Estan Cabigas. Langyaw.

"Mall to rise in old jai-alai site." Sun-Star Online.

The Famous Cebu Jai Alai. Cebu Channel Online.

Mambaling Jai Alai Practice. keith88gt on YouTube.

Rolan “Tigay” Quijano Interview. The Carloan Expert on YouTube.

Cebu Urban Legend: Cat Meat Siopao

2023-09-28T08:57:00.002+08:00

In the bustling streets of Cebu, a peculiar urban legend has thrived for generations, one that revolves around the beloved Filipino snack known as siopao. The rumor suggests that siopao, those fluffy steamed buns filled with various savory fillings, may contain an unexpected and unsettling ingredient - cat meat.

This shocking notion has been a subject of curiosity, intrigue, and even fear, and it continues to capture the imagination of those who hear it. But where did this urban legend originate, and is there any truth to it? We will delve deep into the enigmatic world of cat meat siopao and explore its fascinating history and the myths surrounding it.

The Origin Story

To understand the myth of cat meat siopao, we must first journey back in time to the heart of Cebu, a place rich in culture and culinary traditions. Siopao, a staple of Filipino street food, was introduced to the Philippines by Chinese immigrants who settled in the vibrant city. Among these immigrants, some established themselves at the Parian, an area specially reserved for the Chinese.

As is often the case with urban legends, the tale of cat meat siopao seems to have emerged from a unique blend of factors. The streets were not immune to the presence of stray cats, a common sight in urban environments. As siopao gained popularity as a street snack, suspicions began to arise, and the rumor took root. However, we also can't deny that there is a certain racial side to this urban legend.

The Myth and Legend

One theory behind the emergence of the cat meat siopao legend is rooted in discrimination against the Chinese immigrants who brought siopao to the Philippines in the first place. Early Chinese settlers have faced challenges and stereotypes, and some locals may have perpetuated the rumor as a way to undermine the success of Chinese-owned eateries. The idea that Chinese immigrants were willing to use cat meat in their food may have played into pre-existing biases.

Another aspect of the myth's origin could be attributed to linguistic nuances and misunderstandings. The wordplay between "siopao" and "siomeow" or "ngyaopao" may have contributed to the rumor. In the Philippines, wordplay is common, and it's possible that the similarity in pronunciation between "siopao" and "siomeow" gave rise to the myth, especially among those with a more mischievous sense of humor.

As with many urban legends, the myth of cat meat siopao likely thrived due to a combination of half-truths and outright lies. Some individuals claimed to have read reports in local newspapers about specific restaurants using cat meat in their siopao. Names like Kowloon House and Ma Mon Luk were associated with this rumor, further fueling its spread. However, as we'll soon discover, these allegations were debunked.

Finding the Truth

Now that we've explored the origins and elements that contributed to the myth, let's uncover the truth behind cat meat siopao. To address the cat meat siopao legend, our journey takes us to the Philippine Food and Drug Administration (FDA), a regulatory agency within the Department of Health. While the FDA primarily focuses on the regulation of drugs and packaged foods, it also oversees certain aspects of food safety.

According to Andrew de los Reyes, a veteran of the FDA's food division, he conducted inspections and addressed complaints related to food safety, including siopao. He confirms that there were indeed reports of suspected cat meat in pre-packaged siopao. However, upon thorough inspection, no evidence of cat meat was ever found. Furthermore, he stated that there was no practice of slaughtering cats for use in siopao.

In essence, cat meat siopao is nothing more than a myth—a tale concocted from biases, misunderstandings, and perhaps a touch of mischief. It's a legend that may have challenged local Chinese restaurants to prove the quality of their food, but it ultimately failed in discrediting these establishments. Interestingly, the cat meat siopao "variant" did not took root in other neighboring countries where Chinese influence on the cuisine persists - Indonesia, Malaysia, Singapore, and Thailand. It is worth noting that there is indeed a black market for cat meat in China, Vietnam, and even in South Korea as these "little tigers" are known for healing benefits. Nevertheless, eating of cats in the Philippines is a taboo.

Today, siopao remains a beloved Filipino snack, available in numerous variations beyond asado and bola-bola. Iconic restaurants have continued to serve their signature siopao dishes, undeterred by the enduring myth.

In the end, the allure of the cat meat siopao legend lies in its ability to weave together a common living creature with the universal joy of eating while maintaining an air of disbelief. It's a story that refuses to die, not because it's true, but because it's unbelievably captivating—a testament to the enduring power of urban legends.

The Legend Lives On

The myth of cat meat siopao has captured the imagination of generations. It emerged from a blend of factors, including discrimination, linguistic wordplay, and a mix of half-truths and lies. Cat meat siopao is simply a legend—an urban tale that persists in challenging local Chinese restaurants to prove the quality of their food.

This urban legend is part of our folklore, representing the collective consciousness of a society. They help us understand the nature of people, their customs, and their daily lives. In this particular case, it showcases the enduring power of storytelling and the unique way in which folklore weaves itself into the fabric of culture.

As we continue to unravel the mysteries behind urban legends, we gain insights not only into the tales themselves but also into the societies that create and perpetuate them. The legend of cat meat siopao may be bizarre, but it serves as a reminder of the rich tapestry of human storytelling and the enduring fascination with the unknown.

Resources:

"Mythbusting Siomeow: Did They Really Use Cats in Siopao?" by Mia Marci.

"The Myth of Cats in Siopao: How did it start?" by Natalya Patolot.

"Siopao and Power: The Place of Pork Buns in Manila's Chinese History," by Adrian de Leon.

"Where does an urban legend come from?" by Fiel Estrella.

Finding Their Roots: Cebu's Little Cinderella in Hollywood

2023-09-25T18:14:00.008+08:00

With lead actor Victor McLaglen in "A Girl in Every Port" (1928)

Editor's Note: I was fascinated with genealogy and family history when I was in university and it never ceased to amaze me about finding your roots. This is why I took History and started tracing my family tree. This time, after watching episodes of Finding Your Roots by Henry Louis Gates and Who You Think You Are.

In the glittering world of Hollywood, where dreams and ambitions intertwine, there emerges a remarkable tale of a Filipina actress who defied the odds, shattered stereotypes, and made her mark on the silver screen. Her name was Elena Jurado, also known as Lena Jacobs, and her journey from the rustic shores of Sibonga, Cebu, to the glamorous streets of Hollywood is a captivating story of resilience and tenacity.

@callmesuperjay The unknown Pinay movie star of the 1920s - Elena Jurado. #Pinay #Hollywood #Philippines #Filipina #ElenaJurado #SilentFilm #Actress ♬ Now Look at This - Dramatello

Unveiling a Hidden Gem

Wilfredo Pascual, a Filipino writer, stumbled upon Elena Jurado's story in the dusty archives of the San Francisco library in 2008. What began as a chance discovery would soon become an obsession. Pascual meticulously pieced together Elena's life story, sifting through archives, periodicals, ancestral records, and manuscripts. He was on a mission to shine a light on this forgotten star.

Elena's tale begins in the picturesque town of Sibonga, Cebu, where she was born on May 19, 1901. Her parents' unconventional union symbolized the complex backdrop of the Philippine-American War, with her father, Mark Jacobs, serving as a U.S. Army Sergeant and her mother, Placida Jurado, a local from Sibonga.

U.S. Army men out for a good time outside Camp Jossman (1911)

She spent her early years at the U.S. Army base at Camp Jossman in Guimaras where she grew up mingling with children of American personnel and officials. By living an idyllic childhood with an American lifestyle around here, it makes sense for Elena to aspire to achieve her American dream.

A Bride at a Tender Age

Elena's life took an unexpected turn at the tender age of 13 when she married Ira O. Jones, a 33-year-old American post office clerk from Indiana. Her mother's written consent permitted this union, and it was a marriage marked by uncertainty. Ira had a previous family in the U.S., leaving Elena and her mother without financial support from her father, who had already moved to the United States with his American wife.

In 1919, just a day after Elena's 18th birthday, she and Ira set sail for San Francisco, California, seeking a brighter future. Their initial venture into gold mining in the Sierra Mountains yielded little success, prompting them to relocate to San Francisco. Elena, determined to make her way in a new land, pursued studies in wire transfer technology with hopes of becoming a radio operator.

The First Glimpse of Stardom

Elena's entry into the world of Hollywood was serendipitous. She came across a newspaper article about the production of the Arabian film "White Hands" in 1922. The article highlighted the challenges in finding the right cast, particularly actors with an Arabian appearance. Elena decided she had to be a part of this project and approached the studio, despite facing discouragement.

Elena Jurado in "A Girl in Every Port" (1928)

Her determination caught the attention of Hobart Bosworth, the film's lead actor, who recognized her potential. Elena was cast as a dancer in a café in the film, and her graceful performance left a lasting impression. Bosworth was not only impressed but also somewhat distracted by her presence on set.

The Rise to Fame

Elena's talent and charisma quickly propelled her into the limelight. Within six months, newspapers in San Francisco and even the Washington Post recognized her as "The First Filipino Movie Star." Her journey from obscurity to stardom became an inspiring tale of success.

Intimate scene with lead actor Victor McLaglen

In an interview with Venerando Gonzales, Elena emphasized the importance of education and opportunity for women. She believed that given the chance, women of any race could rise to prominence. Elena was not just a trailblazer but also a voice for women's empowerment.

Overcoming the Odds

Elena Jurado's journey to success in Hollywood during her time was indeed marked by significant racial barriers and challenges, including the prevalence of Asian stereotypes, the concept of the "Yellow Peril," and the persistence of Asian tropes in films. Her ability to overcome these obstacles is a testament to her talent, determination, and resilience.

Model Asian Stereotypes

Hollywood often portrays Asian characters using harmful stereotypes. Asians were frequently depicted as submissive, exotic, and one-dimensional characters, perpetuating harmful misconceptions about their culture and identity.

As a Filipina actress, she faced the challenge of breaking free from these limiting stereotypes. Her background was different from the commonly portrayed East Asian characters, but she still had to navigate the industry's preconceived notions about Asian roles.

With other actresses and lead actor Erich von Stroheim

Elena's determination and talent allowed her to challenge these stereotypes. Her role in "White Hands" as an Arabian dancer showcased her versatility and broke away from the typical Asian characterizations. Her graceful performance captivated audiences and demonstrated that Asian actors could portray a wide range of roles beyond the stereotypes. Aside from her native Cebuano, she speaks four foreign languages - English, Spanish, French, and Italian.

Yellow Peril

The "Yellow Peril" was a term used to describe the fear and xenophobia toward Asian immigrants, particularly in the United States. This fear was fueled by prejudices and misconceptions about Asian cultures and their perceived threat to Western society.

Ironically, she was also known as the "Swede."

She faced the stereotypes associated with the concept. Hollywood's portrayal of Asian characters often played into these fears, further perpetuating discrimination and bias. By humanizing her characters on screen, she showed depth and complexity in her roles by undermining the fear-based narratives. Through her performances, she demonstrated that Asians were not a monolithic threat but individuals with unique stories and talents.

Asian Tropes in Films

Hollywood films of Elena's time frequently relied on clichéd Asian tropes, such as the "Dragon Lady," the "Fu Manchu" villain, or the submissive "Lotus Flower." These tropes reduced Asian characters to simplistic and often negative archetypes.

Overcoming the prevalence of these tropes was a significant hurdle for Elena. She had to navigate an industry that often favored these well-established and familiar characterizations, making it challenging for Asian actors to land diverse and meaningful roles. Despite her best efforts, she wasn't casted in more prominent roles later in her career as the industry shifted from the silent to the sound era. Although she may have starred in a few more films, many don't have credits under her name.

Jurado is credited for her first film appearance with "White Hands" in 1922

She was way ahead of her time. In fact, she tried to promote the idea that U.S. movie producers should feature the Philippines as it should be. At that time, most Americans didn't even know about their far-flung colony at all.

Her Hollywood success was groundbreaking not only for her personal achievements but also for the broader impact it had on challenging racial barriers and stereotypes in the film industry. Through her talent and determination, she helped pave the way for greater diversity and representation of Asian actors in Hollywood, contributing to a more inclusive and accurate portrayal of Asian cultures and identities in cinema. Her legacy serves as a reminder of the power of individual determination in dismantling stereotypes and overcoming racial barriers in the entertainment world.

A Twist in the Fairy Tale

However, Elena's Hollywood fairy tale took a different turn in 1923. She filed a lawsuit against the Motion Picture Utility Corporation, seeking $2,261 in unpaid fees and expenses incurred while filming in the Philippines. The ambitious project to turn San Francisco into a second Hollywood had failed to attract enough investors, leading to financial disputes. Elena's case against the production company was eventually dismissed. Her action alone reminds us that she is ahead of her time just as today, a century later, when writers, actors, and other industry creatives went on strike against the very same industry.

Jurado sued the Motion Picture Utility Corporation in 1923

Despite this setback, Elena continued her silent film career in Hollywood. She appeared in several films, often in minor roles, alongside Hollywood legends like Victor McLaglen, Dolores del Rio, Fay Wray, and Louise Brooks. Her filmography, though not extensive, showcased her talent and resilience.

The Later Years

As Elena's film career continued, her personal life underwent significant changes. She separated from her first husband, Ira Jones, who had been ill for some time. Elena remarried Andrew James Wingate, a draftsman from New York, and they had a son together. Elena also worked as a kindergarten teacher during this period.

Elena's journey came full circle when she passed away on her 73rd birthday, May 19, 1974, in a Los Angeles County home for the elderly. Her grave marker simply read: "Mother, Elena J. Wingate, 1901-1974." There are no records indicating that she returned to her native Philippines, the land that could have embraced her as their "Island Cinderella" and the first Filipina movie star to shine in Hollywood.

Elena Jurado's story is not just a tale of Hollywood glamour but also a testament to the indomitable spirit of a Filipina who defied the odds, overcame stereotypes, and left her mark on the world's most famous film industry. Her legacy lives on, inspiring generations to chase their dreams, regardless of their background or the barriers they face. Elena Jurado, the first Filipina actress to grace Hollywood, will forever be remembered as a pioneer and a symbol of unwavering determination.

Elena Jurado's Family Tree

Generation 1

1. Robert B. Wingate, son of Andrew James Wingate and Elena Jurado.

Generation 2

2. Andrew James Wingate was born in 1914. He married Elena Jurado (daughter of Mark Lewis Jacobs and Placida Jurado).

3. Elena Jurado (daughter of Mark Lewis Jacobs and Placida Jurado) was born on 19 May 1901 in Sibonga, Cebu, Philippines. She died on 15 May 1974 in Los Angeles, Los Angeles, California, USA.

Elena Jurado and Andrew James Wingate had the following child:

1. i. Robert B. Wingate (son of Andrew James Wingate and Elena Jurado).

Generation 3

6. Mark Lewis Jacobs (son of William Edward Jacobs and Cindona Antonia Culver) was born on 12 Dec 1877 in Shiawassee, Michigan, USA. He died on 14 Jan 1967 in Los Angeles, Los Angeles, California, USA. He married Placida Jurado.

7. Placida Jurado.

Placida Jurado and Mark Lewis Jacobs had the following child:

3. i. Elena Jurado (daughter of Mark Lewis Jacobs and Placida Jurado) was born on 19 May 1901 in Sibonga, Cebu, Philippines. She died on 15 May 1974 in Los Angeles, Los Angeles, California, USA. She married Ira O. Jones in 1914 in the Philippines. He was born on 16 Apr 1881 in Indiana, USA. He died on 26 Mar 1942 in Los Angeles, Los Angeles, California, USA. She married Andrew James Wingate. He was born in 1914.

Generation 4

12. William Edward Jacobs (son of Francis Jacobs and Prudence Lincoln) was born on 23 Feb 1840 in Rutland, Vermont, USA. He died on 04 Sep 1925 in Shiawassee, Michigan, USA. He married Cindona Antonia Culver.

13. Cindona Antonia Culver was born on 06 May 1843 in Bath, Clinton, Michigan, USA. She died on 29 Aug 1918 in Corunna, Shiawassee, Michigan, USA.

Cindona Antonia Culver and William Edward Jacobs had the following child:

6. i. Mark Lewis Jacobs (son of William Edward Jacobs and Cindona Antonia Culver) was born on 12 Dec 1877 in Shiawassee, Michigan, USA. He died on 14 Jan 1967 in Los Angeles, Los Angeles, California, USA. He married Placida Jurado. He married Rose Larson. She was born on 09 Jun 1887 in Sweden. She died on 08 May 1957 in Mobile, Alabama, USA.

Generation 5

24. Francis Jacobs was born on 20 Apr 1806 in Quebec, Canada. He died on 19 Jun 1870 in Genesee, Michigan, USA. He married Prudence Lincoln (daughter of Steven Lincoln and Polly Abbey).

25. Prudence Lincoln (daughter of Steven Lincoln and Polly Abbey) was born on 13 Oct 1805 in Windham, Connecticut, USA. She died on 28 Aug 1871 in Shiawassee, Michigan, USA.

Prudence Lincoln and Francis Jacobs had the following child:

12. i. William Edward Jacobs (son of Francis Jacobs and Prudence Lincoln) was born on 23 Feb 1840 in Rutland, Vermont, USA. He died on 04 Sep 1925 in Shiawassee, Michigan, USA. He married Cindona Antonia Culver. She was born on 06 May 1843 in Bath, Clinton, Michigan, USA. She died on 29 Aug 1918 in Corunna, Shiawassee, Michigan, USA.

Generation 6

50. Steven Lincoln was born on 04 Mar 1777 in Windham, Connecticut, USA. He died on 09 May 1872 in Genesee, Michigan, USA. He married Polly Abbey (daughter of Jeduthan Abbey and Lucretia Bement).

51. Polly Abbey (daughter of Jeduthan Abbey and Lucretia Bement) was born on 19 Mar 1785 in Hartford, Connecticut, USA. She died in 1860 in Genesee, Michigan, USA.

Polly Abbey and Steven Lincoln had the following child:

25. i. Prudence Lincoln (daughter of Steven Lincoln and Polly Abbey) was born on 13 Oct 1805 in Windham, Connecticut, USA. She died on 28 Aug 1871 in Shiawassee, Michigan, USA. She married Francis Jacobs. He was born on 20 Apr 1806 in Quebec, Canada. He died on 19 Jun 1870 in Genesee, Michigan, USA.

Generation 7

102. Jeduthan Abbey. He married Lucretia Bement.

103. Lucretia Bement.

Lucretia Bement and Jeduthan Abbey had the following child:

51. i. Polly Abbey (daughter of Jeduthan Abbey and Lucretia Bement) was born on 19 Mar 1785 in Hartford, Connecticut, USA. She died in 1860 in Genesee, Michigan, USA. She married Steven Lincoln. He was born on 04 Mar 1777 in Windham, Connecticut, USA. He died on 09 May 1872 in Genesee, Michigan, USA

Finding Their Roots: My Wife's Fascinating Royal Lineage

2023-09-22T18:26:00.001+08:00

I have been keeping track of my family history for years as an homage to my father and mother who both passed away. It has been an interesting journey to be able to travel back in time to find out who their ancestors were and more importantly, find out who I am and where I came from. Now that I'm married, I am looking forward to this new chapter in life where I have to do a family tree for my wife so that our children will be able to trace their lineage from my side and her side.

What makes it even more interesting is the fact that my wife has a more fascinating family history than I do. Considering the fact that they have a unique cultural heritage - ethnicity and nationality, I expect to encounter wonderful stories and unexpected challenges in figuring out what her family tree may look like. Since she's Indonesian, they have different naming conventions where they follow the typical first-name and last-name combination. In fact, there are a lot of Indonesians that have a single name only while there are those who follow our naming conventions by having an actual family name.

In my wife's case, she doesn't have a family name since both her parents and grandparents have different names, same goes for her brother, cousins, and other relatives. It is important to note that they have Christians and Muslims on both sides of the family so that would mean different cultural dynamics are at play. From the stories that I heard from both sides of her family, her father's side is descended from the royal family of Yogyakarta (going as far back as the Majapahit Empire and other successor states) and her mom has Dutch ancestry to a certain branch of their tree. For now, it is still a work in progress that I have to investigate. Too bad, I have yet to get her to use the Ancestry DNA kit. More importantly, I don't have access to the official royal family tree to check other branches of the tree so I have to focus mainly on the direct male ancestors for now.

For privacy concerns, I will skip a couple of generations but will focus solely on the branch of my wife's paternal line to show her connections to prominent figures in their country's rich history. With that being said, we start with Raden Kromodana, her 2x great-grandfather (Generation 5).

Generation 5

1. Raden Kromodrana, son of Raden Wanadangsa and x. He married X.

Generation 6

2. Raden Wanadangsa. He married X.

3. X.

x and Raden Wanadangsa had the following child:

1. i. Raden Kromodrana (son of Raden Wanadangsa and x). He married x.

Generation 7

4. Raden Wongsaimo. He married X.

5. X.

x and Raden Wongsaimo had the following child:

2. i. Raden Wanadangsa (son of Raden Wongsaimo and x). He married x.

Generation 8

8. Raden Driparta. He married X.

9. X.

x and Raden Driparta had the following child:

4. i. Raden Wongsaimo (son of Raden Driparta and x). He married x.

Generation 9

16. Raden Salam Imam. He married X.

17. X.

x and Raden Salam Imam had the following child:

8. i. Raden Driparta (son of Raden Salam Imam and x). He married x.

Generation 10

32. Pangeran Adipati Teposono. He married X.

33. X.

x and Pangeran Adipati Teposono had the following child:

16. i. Raden Salam Imam (son of Pangeran Adipati Teposono and x). He married x.

Generation 11

64. Kyai Gede Mataram (son of Ki Ageng Enis and Nyai Ageng Ngenis) was born in 1501 in Yogyakarta, Indonesia. He died in 1584 in Yogyakarta, Indonesia. He married Nyai Sabinah (daughter of Ki Ageng Saba and Nyai Ageng Wonosobo).

65. Nyai Sabinah.

Nyai Sabinah and Kyai Gede Mataram had the following child:

32. i. Pangeran Adipati Teposono (son of Kyai Gede Mataram and Nyai Sabinah). He married x.

Generation 12

128. Ki Ageng Enis. He died in 1503 in Yogyakarta, Indonesia. He married Nyai Ageng Ngenis.

129. Nyai Ageng Ngenis.

Nyai Ageng Ngenis and Ki Ageng Enis had the following child:

64. i. Kyai Gede Mataram (son of Ki Ageng Enis and Nyai Ageng Ngenis) was born in 1501 in Yogyakarta, Indonesia. He died in 1584 in Yogyakarta, Indonesia. He married Nyai Sabinah (daughter of Ki Ageng Saba and Nyai Ageng Wonosobo).

130. Ki Ageng Saba. He married Nyai Ageng Wonosobo (daughter of Ki Ageng Sela and Nyai

Bicak).

131. Nyai Ageng Wonosobo.

Nyai Ageng Wonosobo and Ki Ageng Saba had the following child:

65. i. Nyai Sabinah (daughter of Ki Ageng Saba and Nyai Ageng Wonosobo). She married Kyai Gede Mataram (son of Ki Ageng Enis and Nyai Ageng Ngenis). He was born in 1501 in Yogyakarta, Indonesia. He died in 1584 in Yogyakarta, Indonesia.

Generation 13

256. Ki Ageng Sela. He married Nyai Bicak (daughter of Ki Ageng Ngerang I and Nyai Siti Rochmah).

257. Nyai Bicak.

Nyai Bicak and Ki Ageng Sela had the following children:

128. i. Ki Ageng Enis (son of Ki Ageng Sela and Nyai Bicak). He died in 1503 in Yogyakarta, Indonesia. He married Nyai Ageng Ngenis.

131. ii. Nyai Ageng Wonosobo (daughter of Ki Ageng Sela and Nyai Bicak). She married Ki Ageng Saba (son of Ki Ageng Pandanaran and Nyai Made Pandan).

260. Ki Ageng Pandanaran. He married Nyai Made Pandan.

261. Nyai Made Pandan.

Nyai Made Pandan and Ki Ageng Pandanaran had the following child:

130. i. Ki Ageng Saba (son of Ki Ageng Pandanaran and Nyai Made Pandan). He married Nyai Ageng Wonosobo (daughter of Ki Ageng Sela and Nyai Bicak).

Generation 14

514. Ki Ageng Ngerang I. He married Nyai Siti Rochmah.

515. Nyai Siti Rochmah.

Nyai Siti Rochmah and Ki Ageng Ngerang I had the following child:

257. i. Nyai Bicak (daughter of Ki Ageng Ngerang I and Nyai Siti Rochmah). She married Ki Ageng Sela.

520. Ki Ageng Wonosobo. He married X.

521. X.

x and Ki Ageng Wonosobo had the following child:

260. i. Ki Ageng Pandanaran (son of Ki Ageng Wonosobo and x). He married Nyai Made Pandan.

Generation 15

1040. Raden Bondan Kedjawan. He married Dewi Retno Nawangsih (daughter of Raden Kidang Telangkas and Dewi Nawangwulan).

1041. Dewi Retno Nawangsih.

Dewi Retno Nawangsih and Raden Bondan Kedjawan had the following child:

520. i. Ki Ageng Wonosobo (son of Raden Bondan Kedjawan and Dewi Retno Nawangsih). He married x.

Generation 16

2080. Brawijaya V (son of Brawijaya II and Dyah Duhitendu Dewi) was born in 1421 in Jawa Timur, Indonesia. He died in 1478 in Jawa Barat, Indonesia. He married Dewi Dwarawati (daughter of Go Hwat Tan and Te Yo Siu).

2081. Dewi Dwarawati (daughter of Go Hwat Tan and Te Yo Siu) was born in 1403 in Cẩm Phả, Quang Ninh, Vietnam. She died in 1448 in Mojokerto, East Java, Indonesia.

Dewi Dwarawati and Brawijaya V had the following child:

1040. i. Raden Bondan Kedjawan (son of Brawijaya V and Dewi Dwarawati). He married Dewi Retno Nawangsih (daughter of Raden Kidang Telangkas and Dewi Nawangwulan).

2082. Raden Kidang Telangkas. He married Dewi Nawangwulan.

2083. Dewi Nawangwulan.

Dewi Nawangwulan and Raden Kidang Telangkas had the following child:

1041. i. Dewi Retno Nawangsih (daughter of Raden Kidang Telangkas and Dewi Nawangwulan). She married Raden Bondan Kedjawan (son of Brawijaya V and Dewi Dwarawati).

Generation 17

4160. Brawijaya II. He married Dyah Duhitendu Dewi (daughter of Wijayarajasa and Dyah Wiyat).

4161. Dyah Duhitendu Dewi. She died in 1382.

Dyah Duhitendu Dewi and Brawijaya II had the following child:

2080. i. Brawijaya V (son of Brawijaya II and Dyah Duhitendu Dewi) was born in 1421 in Jawa Timur, Indonesia. He died in 1478 in Jawa Barat, Indonesia. He married Dewi Dwarawati (daughter of Go Hwat Tan and Te Yo Siu). She was born in 1403 in Cẩm Phả, Quang Ninh, Vietnam. She died in 1448 in Mojokerto, East Java, Indonesia.

4162. Go Hwat Tan. He married Te Yo Siu.

4163. Te Yo Siu.

Te Yo Siu and Go Hwat Tan had the following child:

2081. i. Dewi Dwarawati (daughter of Go Hwat Tan and Te Yo Siu) was born in 1403 in Cẩm Phả, Quang Ninh, Vietnam. She died in 1448 in Mojokerto, East Java, Indonesia. She married Brawijaya V (son of Brawijaya II and Dyah Duhitendu Dewi). He was born in 1421 in Jawa Timur, Indonesia. He died in 1478 in Jawa Barat, Indonesia.

Generation 18

8320. Brawijaya I. He died in 1451. He married Jayawardhani Dyah Jayeswari.

8321. Jayawardhani Dyah Jayeswari.

Jayawardhani Dyah Jayeswari and Brawijaya I had the following child:

4160. i. Brawijaya II (son of Brawijaya I and Jayawardhani Dyah Jayeswari). He married Dyah Duhitendu Dewi (daughter of Wijayarajasa and Dyah Wiyat). She died in 1382.

8322. Wijayarajasa. He married Dyah Wiyat (daughter of Raden Wijaya and Dyah Gayatri).

8323. Dyah Wiyat.

Dyah Wiyat and Wijayarajasa had the following child:

4161. i. Dyah Duhitendu Dewi (daughter of Wijayarajasa and Dyah Wiyat). She died in 1382. She married Brawijaya II (son of Brawijaya I and Jayawardhani Dyah Jayeswari).

Generation 19

16640. Wikramawardhana. He married Putri Bhre Wirabhumi.

16641. Putri Bhre Wirabhumi. She died in 1426.

Putri Bhre Wirabhumi and Wikramawardhana had the following child:

8320. i. Brawijaya I (son of Wikramawardhana and Putri Bhre Wirabhumi). He died in 1451. He married Jayawardhani Dyah Jayeswari.

16646. Raden Wijaya (son of Rakryan Jayadharma and Dyah Singamurti) was born in 1238 in Kediri, East Java, Indonesia. He died in 1309 in Kediri, East Java, Indonesia. He married Dyah Gayatri (daughter of Kertanegara and Sri Bajradewi).

16647. Dyah Gayatri (daughter of Kertanegara and Sri Bajradewi) was born in 1276 in Singosari, East Java, Indonesia.

Dyah Gayatri and Raden Wijaya had the following children:

66563. i. Tribhuwana Wijayatunggadewi (daughter of Raden Wijaya and Dyah Gayatri) was born in 1309 in Singosari, East Java, Indonesia. She died in 1350. She married Kertawardhana (son of Adwayawarman and Dara Jingga). He died in 1386.

8323. ii. Dyah Wiyat (daughter of Raden Wijaya and Dyah Gayatri). She married Wijayarajasa.

Generation 20

33280. Raden Sumana. He married Rajasaduhiteswari Dyah Nartaja (daughter of Kertawardhana and Tribhuwana Wijayatunggadewi).

33281. Rajasaduhiteswari Dyah Nartaja.

Rajasaduhiteswari Dyah Nartaja and Raden Sumana had the following child:

16640. i. Wikramawardhana (son of Raden Sumana and Rajasaduhiteswari Dyah Nartaja). He married Putri Bhre Wirabhumi. She died in 1426.

33292. Rakryan Jayadharma. He married Dyah Singamurti (daughter of Mahisa Cempaka and x).

33293. Dyah Singamurti.

Dyah Singamurti and Rakryan Jayadharma had the following child:

133126. i. Raden Wijaya (son of Rakryan Jayadharma and Dyah Singamurti) was born in

1238 in Kediri, East Java, Indonesia. He died in 1309 in Kediri, East Java, Indonesia. He married Dyah Gayatri (daughter of Kertanegara and Sri Bajradewi). She was born in 1276 in Singosari, East Java, Indonesia. He married Tribhuwana (daughter of Kertanegara and Sri Bajradewi). He married Prajnaparamita (daughter of Kertanegara and Sri Bajradewi). He married Indreswari. He married Dyah Duhita (daughter of Kertanegara and Sri Bajradewi).

33294. Kertanegara (son of Wishnu Wardana and Jayawardhani) was born in 1250 in Singosari, East

Java, Indonesia. He died in 1292 in Singosari, East Java, Indonesia (Killed by Jayakatwang). He

married Sri Bajradewi.

33295. Sri Bajradewi was born in 1250.

Sri Bajradewi and Kertanegara had the following children:

i. x (daughter of Kertanegara and Sri Bajradewi). She married Ardharaja (son of Jayakatwang and x). He was born in Kediri, East Java, Indonesia.

ii. Tribhuwana (daughter of Kertanegara and Sri Bajradewi). She married Raden Wijaya (son of Rakryan Jayadharma and Dyah Singamurti). He was born in 1238 in Kediri, East Java, Indonesia. He died in 1309 in Kediri, East Java, Indonesia.

iii. Prajnaparamita (daughter of Kertanegara and Sri Bajradewi). She married Raden Wijaya (son of Rakryan Jayadharma and Dyah Singamurti). He was born in 1238 in Kediri, East Java, Indonesia. He died in 1309 in Kediri, East Java, Indonesia.

iv. Dyah Duhita (daughter of Kertanegara and Sri Bajradewi). She married Raden Wijaya (son of Rakryan Jayadharma and Dyah Singamurti). He was born in 1238 in Kediri, East Java, Indonesia. He died in 1309 in Kediri, East Java, Indonesia.

133127. v. Dyah Gayatri (daughter of Kertanegara and Sri Bajradewi) was born in 1276 in Singosari, East Java, Indonesia. She married Raden Wijaya (son of Rakryan Jayadharma and Dyah Singamurti). He was born in 1238 in Kediri, East Java, Indonesia. He died in 1309 in Kediri, East Java, Indonesia.

Generation 21

66562. Kertawardhana. He died in 1386. He married Tribhuwana Wijayatunggadewi (daughter of Raden Wijaya and Dyah Gayatri).

66563. Tribhuwana Wijayatunggadewi (daughter of Raden Wijaya and Dyah Gayatri) was born in 1309 in Singosari, East Java, Indonesia. She died in 1350.

Tribhuwana Wijayatunggadewi and Kertawardhana had the following children:

i. Hayam Wuruk (son of Kertawardhana and Tribhuwana Wijayatunggadewi) was born in 1334. He died in 1389. He married Paduka Sori (daughter of Wijayarajasa and x). He married x.

33281. ii. Rajasaduhiteswari Dyah Nartaja (daughter of Kertawardhana and Tribhuwana Wijayatunggadewi). She married Raden Sumana.

iii. Iswari (daughter of Kertawardhana and Tribhuwana Wijayatunggadewi). She married Singhwardhana.

66584. Prabu Guru Dharmasiksa. He married X.

66585. X.

x and Prabu Guru Dharmasiksa had the following child:

266252. i. Rakryan Jayadharma (son of Prabu Guru Dharmasiksa and x). He married Dyah Singamurti (daughter of Mahisa Cempaka and x).

66586. Mahisa Cempaka. He died in 1269. He married X.

66587. X.

x and Mahisa Cempaka had the following child:

266253. i. Dyah Singamurti (daughter of Mahisa Cempaka and x). She married Rakryan Jayadharma (son of Prabu Guru Dharmasiksa and x).

66588. Wishnu Wardana. He married Jayawardhani (daughter of Mahisa Wong Ateleng and x).

66589. Jayawardhani.

Jayawardhani and Wishnu Wardana had the following child:

266254. i. Kertanegara (son of Wishnu Wardana and Jayawardhani) was born in 1250 in Singosari, East Java, Indonesia. He died in 1292 in Singosari, East Java, Indonesia (Killed by Jayakatwang). He married Sri Bajradewi. She was born in 1250.

Generation 22

133124. Adwayawarman. He married Dara Jingga.

133125. Dara Jingga.

Dara Jingga and Adwayawarman had the following child:

66562. i. Kertawardhana (son of Adwayawarman and Dara Jingga). He died in 1386. He married Tribhuwana Wijayatunggadewi (daughter of Raden Wijaya and Dyah Gayatri). She was born in 1309 in Singosari, East Java, Indonesia. She died in 1350. He married x.

133126. Raden Wijaya (son of Rakryan Jayadharma and Dyah Singamurti) was born in 1238 in

Kediri, East Java, Indonesia. He died in 1309 in Kediri, East Java, Indonesia. He

married Dyah Gayatri (daughter of Kertanegara and Sri Bajradewi).

133127. Dyah Gayatri (daughter of Kertanegara and Sri Bajradewi) was born in 1276 in

Singosari, East Java, Indonesia.

Dyah Gayatri and Raden Wijaya had the following children:

8323. ii. Dyah Wiyat (daughter of Raden Wijaya and Dyah Gayatri). She married Wijayarajasa.

133168. Prabu Dharmakusuma. He died in 1175. He married X.

133169. X.

x and Prabu Dharmakusuma had the following child:

532504. i. Prabu Guru Dharmasiksa (son of Prabu Dharmakusuma and x). He married x.

133172. Mahisa Wong Ateleng. He married X.

133173. X.

x and Mahisa Wong Ateleng had the following children:

532509. i. Jayawardhani (daughter of Mahisa Wong Ateleng and x). She married Wishnu Wardana (son of Anusapati and x).

532506. ii. Mahisa Cempaka (son of Mahisa Wong Ateleng and x). He died in 1269. He married x.

133176. Anusapati. He died in 1248 (Assassinated by Tohjaya). He married X.

133177. X.

x and Anusapati had the following child:

532508. i. Wishnu Wardana (son of Anusapati and x). He married Jayawardhani (daughter of Mahisa Wong Ateleng and x).

Generation 23

266252. Rakryan Jayadharma. He married Dyah Singamurti (daughter of Mahisa Cempaka

and x).

266253. Dyah Singamurti.

Dyah Singamurti and Rakryan Jayadharma had the following child:

133126. i. Raden Wijaya (son of Rakryan Jayadharma and Dyah Singamurti) was born in 1238 in Kediri, East Java, Indonesia. He died in 1309 in Kediri, East Java, Indonesia. He married Dyah Gayatri (daughter of Kertanegara and Sri Bajradewi). She was born in 1276 in Singosari, East Java, Indonesia. He married Tribhuwana (daughter of Kertanegara and Sri Bajradewi). He married Prajnaparamita (daughter of Kertanegara and Sri Bajradewi). He married Indreswari. He married Dyah Duhita (daughter of Kertanegara and Sri Bajradewi).

266254. Kertanegara (son of Wishnu Wardana and Jayawardhani) was born in 1250 in Singosari, East Java, Indonesia. He died in 1292 in Singosari, East Java, Indonesia (Killed by Jayakatwang). He married Sri Bajradewi.

266255. Sri Bajradewi was born in 1250.

Sri Bajradewi and Kertanegara had the following children:

i. x (daughter of Kertanegara and Sri Bajradewi). She married Ardharaja (son of Jayakatwang and x). He was born in Kediri, East Java, Indonesia.

266336. Rakryan Jayagiri. He died in 1156. He married X.

266337. X.

x and Rakryan Jayagiri had the following child:

1065008. i. Prabu Dharmakusuma (son of Rakryan Jayagiri and x). He died in 1175. He married x.

266344. Sri Ranggah Rajasa (son of Gajah Para and Ken Endrok) was born in 1182. He died

in 1227 (Assassinated by Anusapati). He married Ken Dedes (daughter of Mpu Purwa

and x).

266345. Ken Dedes.

Ken Dedes and Sri Ranggah Rajasa had the following child:

1065012. i. Mahisa Wong Ateleng (son of Sri Ranggah Rajasa and Ken Dedes). He married x.

266352. Tunggul Ametung. He married Ken Dedes (daughter of Mpu Purwa and x).

Generation 24

532504. Prabu Guru Dharmasiksa. He married X.

532505. X.

x and Prabu Guru Dharmasiksa had the following child:

266252. i. Rakryan Jayadharma (son of Prabu Guru Dharmasiksa and x). He married Dyah Singamurti (daughter of Mahisa Cempaka and x).

532506. Mahisa Cempaka. He died in 1269. He married X.

532507. X.

x and Mahisa Cempaka had the following child:

266253. i. Dyah Singamurti (daughter of Mahisa Cempaka and x). She married Rakryan Jayadharma (son of Prabu Guru Dharmasiksa and x).

532508. Wishnu Wardana. He married Jayawardhani (daughter of Mahisa Wong Ateleng and

x).

532509. Jayawardhani.

Jayawardhani and Wishnu Wardana had the following child:

532672. Prabu Langlangbhumi. He died in 1154. He married X.

532673. X.

x and Prabu Langlangbhumi had the following child:

2130016. i. Rakryan Jayagiri (son of Prabu Langlangbhumi and x). He died in 1156. He married x.

532688. Gajah Para. He married Ken Endrok.

532689. Ken Endrok.

Ken Endrok and Gajah Para had the following child:

2130024. i. Sri Ranggah Rajasa (son of Gajah Para and Ken Endrok) was born in 1182. He died in 1227 (Assassinated by Anusapati). He married Ken Dedes (daughter of Mpu Purwa and x). He met Ken Umang.

532690. Mpu Purwa. He married X.

532691. X.

x and Mpu Purwa had the following child:

2130025. i. Ken Dedes (daughter of Mpu Purwa and x). She married Sri Ranggah Rajasa (son of Gajah Para and Ken Endrok). He was born in 1182. He died in 1227 (Assassinated by Anusapati). She married Tunggul Ametung.

Generation 25

1065008. Prabu Dharmakusuma. He died in 1175. He married X.

1065009. X.

x and Prabu Dharmakusuma had the following child:

532504. i. Prabu Guru Dharmasiksa (son of Prabu Dharmakusuma and x). He married x.

1065012. Mahisa Wong Ateleng. He married X.

1065013. X.

x and Mahisa Wong Ateleng had the following children:

532509. i. Jayawardhani (daughter of Mahisa Wong Ateleng and x). She married Wishnu Wardana (son of Anusapati and x).

532506. ii. Mahisa Cempaka (son of Mahisa Wong Ateleng and x). He died in 1269. He married x.

1065016. Anusapati. He died in 1248 (Assassinated by Tohjaya). He married X.

1065017. X.

x and Anusapati had the following child:

532508. i. Wishnu Wardana (son of Anusapati and x). He married Jayawardhani (daughter of Mahisa Wong Ateleng and x).

1065344. X. He married X (daughter of Sri Jayabhupati and x).

1065345. X.

x and x had the following child:

4260032. i. Prabu Langlangbhumi (son of x and x). He died in 1154. He married x.

Generation 26

2130016. Rakryan Jayagiri. He died in 1156. He married X.

2130017. X.

x and Rakryan Jayagiri had the following child:

1065008. i. Prabu Dharmakusuma (son of Rakryan Jayagiri and x). He died in 1175. He married x.

2130024. Sri Ranggah Rajasa (son of Gajah Para and Ken Endrok) was born in 1182. He died in 1227 (Assassinated by Anusapati). He married Ken Dedes (daughter of Mpu Purwa and x).

2130025. Ken Dedes.

Ken Dedes and Sri Ranggah Rajasa had the following child:

1065012. i. Mahisa Wong Ateleng (son of Sri Ranggah Rajasa and Ken Dedes). He married x.

2130032. Tunggul Ametung. He married Ken Dedes (daughter of Mpu Purwa and x).

2130690. Sri Jayabhupati. He died in 1042. He married X (daughter of Dharmawangsa Teguh and x).

2130691. X.

x and Sri Jayabhupati had the following child:

8520065. i. x (daughter of Sri Jayabhupati and x). She married x.

Generation 27

4260032. Prabu Langlangbhumi. He died in 1154. He married X.

4260033. X.

x and Prabu Langlangbhumi had the following child:

2130016. i. Rakryan Jayagiri (son of Prabu Langlangbhumi and x). He died in 1156. He married x.

4260048. Gajah Para. He married Ken Endrok.

4260049. Ken Endrok.

Ken Endrok and Gajah Para had the following child:

2130024. i. Sri Ranggah Rajasa (son of Gajah Para and Ken Endrok) was born in 1182. He died in 1227 (Assassinated by Anusapati). He married Ken Dedes (daughter of Mpu Purwa and x). He met Ken Umang.

4260050. Mpu Purwa. He married X.

4260051. X.

x and Mpu Purwa had the following child:

4261380. Prabu Sanghyang Ageng. He died in 1030. He married X.

4261381. X.

x and Prabu Sanghyang Ageng had the following child:

17040130. i. Sri Jayabhupati (son of Prabu Sanghyang Ageng and x). He died in 1042. He married x (daughter of Dharmawangsa Teguh and x).

4261382. Dharmawangsa Teguh. He married X.

4261383. X.

x and Dharmawangsa Teguh had the following child:

17040131. i. x (daughter of Dharmawangsa Teguh and x). She married Sri Jayabhupati (son of Prabu Sanghyang Ageng and x). He died in 1042.

Generation 28

8520064. X. He married X (daughter of Sri Jayabhupati and x).

8520065. X.

x and x had the following child:

4260032. i. Prabu Langlangbhumi (son of x and x). He died in 1154. He married x.

8522760. Prabu Dewasanghyang. He died in 1019. He married X.

8522761. X.

x and Prabu Dewasanghyang had the following child:

34080260. i. Prabu Sanghyang Ageng (son of Prabu Dewasanghyang and x). He died in 1030. He married x.

Generation 29

17040130. Sri Jayabhupati. He died in 1042. He married X (daughter of Dharmawangsa

Teguh and x).

17040131. X.

x and Sri Jayabhupati had the following child:

8520065. i. x (daughter of Sri Jayabhupati and x). She married x.

17045520. Rakryan Gendang. He died in 1012. He married X.

17045521. X.

x and Rakryan Gendang had the following child:

68160520. i. Prabu Dewasanghyang (son of Rakryan Gendang and x). He died in 1019. He married x.

Generation 30

34080260. Prabu Sanghyang Ageng. He died in 1030. He married X.

34080261. X.

x and Prabu Sanghyang Ageng had the following child:

17040130. i. Sri Jayabhupati (son of Prabu Sanghyang Ageng and x). He died in 1042. He married x (daughter of Dharmawangsa Teguh and x).

34080262. Dharmawangsa Teguh. He married X.

34080263. X.

x and Dharmawangsa Teguh had the following child:

17040131. i. x (daughter of Dharmawangsa Teguh and x). She married Sri Jayabhupati (son of Prabu Sanghyang Ageng and x). He died in 1042.

34091040. Prabu Jayagiri Rakeyan Wulung Gadung. He died in 989 AD. He married X

(daughter of Sang Limburkancana and x).

34091041. X.

x and Prabu Jayagiri Rakeyan Wulung Gadung had the following child:

136321040. i. Rakryan Gendang (son of Prabu Jayagiri Rakeyan Wulung Gadung and x). He died in 1012. He married x.

Generation 31

68160520. Prabu Dewasanghyang. He died in 1019. He married X.

68160521. X.

x and Prabu Dewasanghyang had the following child:

34080260. i. Prabu Sanghyang Ageng (son of Prabu Dewasanghyang and x). He died in 1030. He married x.

68182082. Sang Limburkancana. He died in 964 AD. He married X.

68182083. X.

x and Sang Limburkancana had the following child:

272642081. i. x (daughter of Sang Limburkancana and x). She married Prabu Jayagiri Rakeyan Wulung Gadung. He died in 989 AD.

Generation 32

136321040. Rakryan Gendang. He died in 1012. He married X.

136321041. X.

x and Rakryan Gendang had the following child:

68160520. i. Prabu Dewasanghyang (son of Rakryan Gendang and x). He died in 1019. He married x.

136364164. Rakryan Kamuningading. He died in 916 AD. He married X.

136364165. X.

x and Rakryan Kamuningading had the following child:

545284162. i. Sang Limburkancana (son of Rakryan Kamuningading and x). He died in 964 AD. He married x.

Generation 33

272642080. Prabu Jayagiri Rakeyan Wulung Gadung. He died in 989 AD. He married X (daughter of Sang Limburkancana and x).

272642081. X.

x and Prabu Jayagiri Rakeyan Wulung Gadung had the following child:

136321040. i. Rakryan Gendang (son of Prabu Jayagiri Rakeyan Wulung Gadung and x). He died in 1012. He married x.

272728328. Rakryan Windusakti. He died in 913 AD. He married X.

272728329. X.

x and Rakryan Windusakti had the following child:

1090568324. i. Rakryan Kamuningading (son of Rakryan Windusakti and x). He died in 916 AD. He married x.

Generation 34

545284162. Sang Limburkancana. He died in 964 AD. He married X.

545284163. X.

x and Sang Limburkancana had the following child:

272642081. i. x (daughter of Sang Limburkancana and x). She married Prabu Jayagiri Rakeyan Wulung Gadung. He died in 989 AD.

545456656. Arya Kadatwan. He died in 895 AD. He married X (daughter of Rakryan Diwus

and x).

545456657. X.

x and Arya Kadatwan had the following child:

2181136648. i. Rakryan Windusakti (son of Arya Kadatwan and x). He died in 913 AD. He married x.

Generation 35

1090568324. Rakryan Kamuningading. He died in 916 AD. He married X.

1090568325. X.

x and Rakryan Kamuningading had the following child:

545284162. i. Sang Limburkancana (son of Rakryan Kamuningading and x). He died in 964 AD. He married x.

1090913312. Sang Welengan. He married X.

1090913313. X.

x and Sang Welengan had the following child:

4362273296. i. Arya Kadatwan (son of Sang Welengan and x). He died in 895 AD. He married x (daughter of Rakryan Diwus and x).

1090913314. Rakryan Diwus. He died in 819 AD. He married X (daughter of Rakryan Hujungkulon and x).

1090913315. X.

x and Rakryan Diwus had the following child:

4362273297. i. x (daughter of Rakryan Diwus and x). She married Arya Kadatwan (son of Sang Welengan and x). He died in 895 AD.

Generation 36

2181136648. Rakryan Windusakti. He died in 913 AD. He married X.

2181136649. X.

x and Rakryan Windusakti had the following child:

1090568324. i. Rakryan Kamuningading (son of Rakryan Windusakti and x). He died in 916 AD. He married x.

2181826624. Sang Tariwulan. He married X.

2181826625. X.

x and Sang Tariwulan had the following child:

8724546592. i. Sang Welengan (son of Sang Tariwulan and x). He married x.

2181826630. Rakryan Hujungkulon. He died in 795 AD. He married X (daughter of Rakeyan Medang and x).

2181826631. X.

x and Rakryan Hujungkulon had the following child:

8724546595. i. x (daughter of Rakryan Hujungkulon and x). She married Rakryan Diwus. He died in 819 AD.

Generation 37

4362273296. Arya Kadatwan. He died in 895 AD. He married X (daughter of Rakryan Diwus and x).

4362273297. X.

x and Arya Kadatwan had the following child:

2181136648. i. Rakryan Windusakti (son of Arya Kadatwan and x). He died in 913 AD. He married x.

4363653260. Sang Hyang Ambu. He married Sang Manisri (daughter of x and Puspasari).

4363653261. Sang Manisri.

Sang Manisri and Sang Hyang Ambu had the following child:

17449093190. i. Rakryan Hujungkulon (son of Sang Hyang Ambu and Sang Manisri). He died in 795 AD. He married x (daughter of Rakeyan Medang and x).

4363653262. Rakeyan Medang. He died in 783 AD. He married X.

4363653263. X.

x and Rakeyan Medang had the following child:

17449093191. i. x (daughter of Rakeyan Medang and x). She married Rakryan Hujungkulon (son of Sang Hyang Ambu and Sang Manisri). He died in 795 AD.

Generation 38

8724546592. Sang Welengan. He married X.

8724546593. X.

x and Sang Welengan had the following child:

4362273296. i. Arya Kadatwan (son of Sang Welengan and x). He died in 895 AD. He married x (daughter of Rakryan Diwus and x).

8724546594. Rakryan Diwus. He died in 819 AD. He married X (daughter of Rakryan Hujungkulon and x).

8724546595. X.

x and Rakryan Diwus had the following child:

4362273297. i. x (daughter of Rakryan Diwus and x). She married Arya Kadatwan (son of Sang Welengan and x). He died in 895 AD.

8727306522. X. He married Puspasari.

8727306523. Puspasari.

Puspasari and x had the following child:

34898186381. i. Sang Manisri (daughter of x and Puspasari). She married Sang Hyang Ambu.

8727306524. Rakeyan Banga (son of Rakeyan Panabaran and Dewi Pangreyep) was born in 724 AD. He died in 766 AD. He married Dewi Kancanasari (daughter of Demunawan and x).

8727306525. Dewi Kancanasari.

Dewi Kancanasari and Rakeyan Banga had the following child:

34898186382. i. Rakeyan Medang (son of Rakeyan Banga and Dewi Kancanasari). He died in 783 AD. He married x.

Generation 39

17449093184. Sang Tariwulan. He married X.

17449093185. X.

x and Sang Tariwulan had the following child:

8724546592. i. Sang Welengan (son of Sang Tariwulan and x). He married x.

17449093190. Rakryan Hujungkulon. He died in 795 AD. He married X (daughter of Rakeyan Medang and x).

17449093191. X.

x and Rakryan Hujungkulon had the following child:

8724546595. i. x (daughter of Rakryan Hujungkulon and x). She married Rakryan Diwus. He died in 819 AD.

17454613048. Rakeyan Panabaran. He died in 739 AD. He married Dewi Pangreyep (daughter of Anggada and x).

17454613049. Dewi Pangreyep.

Dewi Pangreyep and Rakeyan Panabaran had the following child:

69796372764. i. Rakeyan Banga (son of Rakeyan Panabaran and Dewi Pangreyep) was born in 724 AD. He died in 766 AD. He married Dewi Kancanasari (daughter of Demunawan and x).

17454613050. Demunawan. He married X.

17454613051. X.

x and Demunawan had the following child:

69796372765. i. Dewi Kancanasari (daughter of Demunawan and x). She married Rakeyan Banga (son of Rakeyan Panabaran and Dewi Pangreyep). He was born in 724 AD. He died in 766 AD.

Generation 40

34898186380. Sang Hyang Ambu. He married Sang Manisri (daughter of x and Puspasari).

34898186381. Sang Manisri.

Sang Manisri and Sang Hyang Ambu had the following child:

17449093190. i. Rakryan Hujungkulon (son of Sang Hyang Ambu and Sang Manisri). He died in 795 AD. He married x (daughter of Rakeyan Medang and x).

34898186382. Rakeyan Medang. He died in 783 AD. He married X.

34898186383. X.

x and Rakeyan Medang had the following child:

17449093191. i. x (daughter of Rakeyan Medang and x). She married Rakryan Hujungkulon (son of Sang Hyang Ambu and Sang Manisri). He died in 795 AD.

34909226096. Rakryan Sanjaya. He died in 754 AD. He married Tejakancana (daughter of Rakeyan Sunda Sambawa and x).

34909226097. Tejakancana.

Tejakancana and Rakryan Sanjaya had the following child:

139592745528. i. Rakeyan Panabaran (son of Rakryan Sanjaya and Tejakancana). He died in 739 AD. He married Dewi Pangreyep (daughter of Anggada and x).

34909226098. Anggada. He married X.

34909226099. X.

x and Anggada had the following child:

139592745529. i. Dewi Pangreyep (daughter of Anggada and x). She married Rakeyan Panabaran (son of Rakryan Sanjaya and Tejakancana). He died in 739 AD.

34909226100. Rahiyang Sempakwaja was born in 620 AD. He married Dewi Wulansari.

34909226101. Dewi Wulansari.

Dewi Wulansari and Rahiyang Sempakwaja had the following child:

139592745530. i. Demunawan (son of Rahiyang Sempakwaja and Dewi Wulansari). He married x.

Generation 41

69796372762. X. He married Puspasari.

69796372763. Puspasari.

Puspasari and x had the following child:

34898186381. i. Sang Manisri (daughter of x and Puspasari). She married Sang Hyang Ambu.

69796372764. Rakeyan Banga (son of Rakeyan Panabaran and Dewi Pangreyep) was born in 724 AD. He died in 766 AD. He married Dewi Kancanasari (daughter of Demunawan and x).

69796372765. Dewi Kancanasari.

Dewi Kancanasari and Rakeyan Banga had the following child:

34898186382. i. Rakeyan Medang (son of Rakeyan Banga and Dewi Kancanasari). He died in 783 AD. He married x.

69818452192. Bratasenawa. He married Sannaha (daughter of Rahiyang Mandiminyak and Dewi Parwati).

69818452193. Sannaha.

Sannaha and Bratasenawa had the following child:

279185491056. i. Rakryan Sanjaya (son of Bratasenawa and Sannaha). He died in 754 AD. He married Tejakancana (daughter of Rakeyan Sunda Sambawa and x).

69818452194. Rakeyan Sunda Sambawa. He married X.

69818452195. X.

x and Rakeyan Sunda Sambawa had the following child:

279185491057. i. Tejakancana (daughter of Rakeyan Sunda Sambawa and x). She married Rakryan Sanjaya (son of Bratasenawa and Sannaha). He died in 754 AD.

Generation 42

139592745528. Rakeyan Panabaran. He died in 739 AD. He married Dewi Pangreyep (daughter of Anggada and x).

139592745529. Dewi Pangreyep.

Dewi Pangreyep and Rakeyan Panabaran had the following child:

69796372764. i. Rakeyan Banga (son of Rakeyan Panabaran and Dewi Pangreyep) was born in 724 AD. He died in 766 AD. He married Dewi Kancanasari (daughter of Demunawan and x).

139592745530. Demunawan. He married X.

139592745531. X.

x and Demunawan had the following child:

69796372765. i. Dewi Kancanasari (daughter of Demunawan and x). She married Rakeyan Banga (son of Rakeyan Panabaran and Dewi Pangreyep). He was born in 724 AD. He died in 766 AD.

139636904384. Rahiyang Mandiminyak (son of Sang Wretikandayun and Dewi Manawati) was born in 643 AD. He married Dewi Wulansari.

139636904385. Dewi Wulansari.

Dewi Wulansari and Rahiyang Mandiminyak had the following child:

558370982112. i. Bratasenawa (son of Rahiyang Mandiminyak and Dewi Wulansari). He married Sannaha (daughter of Rahiyang Mandiminyak and Dewi Parwati).

139636904387. Dewi Parwati.

Dewi Parwati and Rahiyang Mandiminyak had the following child:

558370982113. i. Sannaha (daughter of Rahiyang Mandiminyak and Dewi Parwati). She married Bratasenawa (son of Rahiyang Mandiminyak and Dewi Wulansari).

Generation 43

279185491056. Rakryan Sanjaya. He died in 754 AD. He married Tejakancana (daughter of Rakeyan Sunda Sambawa and x).

279185491057. Tejakancana.

Tejakancana and Rakryan Sanjaya had the following child:

139592745528. i. Rakeyan Panabaran (son of Rakryan Sanjaya and Tejakancana). He died in 739 AD. He married Dewi Pangreyep (daughter of Anggada and x).

279185491058. Anggada. He married X.

279185491059. X.

x and Anggada had the following child:

139592745529. i. Dewi Pangreyep (daughter of Anggada and x). She married Rakeyan Panabaran (son of Rakryan Sanjaya and Tejakancana). He died in 739 AD.

279185491060. Rahiyang Sempakwaja was born in 620 AD. He married Dewi Wulansari.

279185491061. Dewi Wulansari.

Dewi Wulansari and Rahiyang Sempakwaja had the following child:

139592745530. i. Demunawan (son of Rahiyang Sempakwaja and Dewi Wulansari). He married x.

279273808768. Sang Wretikandayun (son of Sang Kandiawati and x) was born in 619 AD. He died in 727 AD. He married Dewi Manawati (daughter of Resi Makandria and x).

279273808769. Dewi Manawati.

Dewi Manawati and Sang Wretikandayun had the following child:

1116741964224. i. Rahiyang Mandiminyak (son of Sang Wretikandayun and Dewi Manawati) was born in 643 AD. He married Dewi Parwati. He married Dewi Wulansari.

Generation 44

558370982112. Bratasenawa. He married Sannaha (daughter of Rahiyang Mandiminyak and Dewi Parwati).

558370982113. Sannaha.

Sannaha and Bratasenawa had the following child:

279185491056. i. Rakryan Sanjaya (son of Bratasenawa and Sannaha). He died in 754 AD. He married Tejakancana (daughter of Rakeyan Sunda Sambawa and x).

558370982114. Rakeyan Sunda Sambawa. He married X.

558370982115. X.

x and Rakeyan Sunda Sambawa had the following child:

279185491057. i. Tejakancana (daughter of Rakeyan Sunda Sambawa and x). She married Rakryan Sanjaya (son of Bratasenawa and Sannaha). He died in 754 AD.

558547617536. Sang Kandiawati. He married X.

558547617537. X.

x and Sang Kandiawati had the following child:

2233483928448. i. Sang Wretikandayun (son of Sang Kandiawati and x) was born in 619 AD. He died in 727 AD. He married Dewi Manawati (daughter of Resi Makandria and x).

558547617538. Resi Makandria. He married X.

558547617539. X.

x and Resi Makandria had the following child:

2233483928449. i. Dewi Manawati (daughter of Resi Makandria and x). She married Sang Wretikandayun (son of Sang Kandiawati and x). He was born in 619 AD. He died in 727 AD.

Generation 45

1116741964224. Rahiyang Mandiminyak (son of Sang Wretikandayun and Dewi Manawati) was born in 643 AD. He married Dewi Wulansari.

1116741964225. Dewi Wulansari.

Dewi Wulansari and Rahiyang Mandiminyak had the following child:

558370982112. i. Bratasenawa (son of Rahiyang Mandiminyak and Dewi Wulansari). He married Sannaha (daughter of Rahiyang Mandiminyak and Dewi Parwati).

1116741964227. Dewi Parwati.

Dewi Parwati and Rahiyang Mandiminyak had the following child:

558370982113. i. Sannaha (daughter of Rahiyang Mandiminyak and Dewi Parwati). She married Bratasenawa (son of Rahiyang Mandiminyak and Dewi Wulansari).

1117095235072. Rajaputera Suraliman. He married Dewi Mutyasari.

1117095235073. Dewi Mutyasari.

Dewi Mutyasari and Rajaputera Suraliman had the following child:

4466967856896. i. Sang Kandiawati (son of Rajaputera Suraliman and Dewi Mutyasari). He married x.

Generation 46

2233483928448. Sang Wretikandayun (son of Sang Kandiawati and x) was born in 619 AD. He died in 727 AD. He married Dewi Manawati (daughter of Resi Makandria and x).

2233483928449. Dewi Manawati.

Dewi Manawati and Sang Wretikandayun had the following child:

1116741964224. i. Rahiyang Mandiminyak (son of Sang Wretikandayun and Dewi Manawati) was born in 643 AD. He married Dewi Parwati. He married Dewi Wulansari.

2234190470144. Manikmaya. He married Dewi Tirtakancana (daughter of Prabu Tarumanagara VII and x).

2234190470145. Dewi Tirtakancana.

Dewi Tirtakancana and Manikmaya had the following child:

8933935713792. i. Rajaputera Suraliman (son of Manikmaya and Dewi Tirtakancana). He married Dewi Mutyasari.

Generation 47

4466967856896. Sang Kandiawati. He married X.

4466967856897. X.

x and Sang Kandiawati had the following child:

2233483928448. i. Sang Wretikandayun (son of Sang Kandiawati and x) was born in 619 AD. He died in 727 AD. He married Dewi Manawati (daughter of Resi Makandria and x).

4466967856898. Resi Makandria. He married X.

4466967856899. X.

x and Resi Makandria had the following child:

2233483928449. i. Dewi Manawati (daughter of Resi Makandria and x). She married Sang Wretikandayun (son of Sang Kandiawati and x). He was born in 619 AD. He died in 727 AD.

4468380940290. Prabu Tarumanagara VII. He died in 561 AD. He married X.

4468380940291. X.

x and Prabu Tarumanagara VII had the following child:

17867871427585. i. Dewi Tirtakancana (daughter of Prabu Tarumanagara VII and x). She married Manikmaya.

Generation 48

8933935713792. Rajaputera Suraliman. He married Dewi Mutyasari.

8933935713793. Dewi Mutyasari.

Dewi Mutyasari and Rajaputera Suraliman had the following child:

4466967856896. i. Sang Kandiawati (son of Rajaputera Suraliman and Dewi Mutyasari). He married x.

8936761880580. Prabu Tarumanagara VI. He died in 535 AD. He married X.

8936761880581. X.

x and Prabu Tarumanagara VI had the following child:

35735742855170. i. Prabu Tarumanagara VII (son of Prabu Tarumanagara VI and x). He died in 561 AD. He married x.

Generation 49

17867871427584. Manikmaya. He married Dewi Tirtakancana (daughter of Prabu Tarumanagara VII and x).

17867871427585. Dewi Tirtakancana.

Dewi Tirtakancana and Manikmaya had the following child:

8933935713792. i. Rajaputera Suraliman (son of Manikmaya and Dewi Tirtakancana). He married Dewi Mutyasari.

17873523761160. Prabu Tarumanagara V. He married X.

17873523761161. X.

x and Prabu Tarumanagara V had the following child:

71471485710340. i. Prabu Tarumanagara VI (son of Prabu Tarumanagara V and x). He died in 535 AD. He married x.

Generation 50

35735742855170. Prabu Tarumanagara VII. He died in 561 AD. He married X.

35735742855171. X.

x and Prabu Tarumanagara VII had the following child:

17867871427585. i. Dewi Tirtakancana (daughter of Prabu Tarumanagara VII and x). She married Manikmaya.

35747047522320. Prabu Tarumanagara IV. He married X.

35747047522321. X.

x and Prabu Tarumanagara IV had the following child:

142942971420680. i. Prabu Tarumanagara V (son of Prabu Tarumanagara IV and x). He married x.

Generation 51

71471485710340. Prabu Tarumanagara VI. He died in 535 AD. He married X.

71471485710341. X.

x and Prabu Tarumanagara VI had the following child:

35735742855170. i. Prabu Tarumanagara VII (son of Prabu Tarumanagara VI and x). He died in 561 AD. He married x.

71494095044640. Purnawarman. He died in 434 AD. He married X.

71494095044641. X.

x and Purnawarman had the following child:

285885942841360. i. Prabu Tarumanagara IV (son of Purnawarman and x). He married x.

Generation 52

142942971420680. Prabu Tarumanagara V. He married X.

142942971420681. X.

x and Prabu Tarumanagara V had the following child:

71471485710340. i. Prabu Tarumanagara VI (son of Prabu Tarumanagara V and x). He died in 535 AD. He married x.

142988190089280. Prabu Tarumanagara II. He married X.

142988190089281. X.

x and Prabu Tarumanagara II had the following child:

571771885682720. i. Purnawarman (son of Prabu Tarumanagara II and x). He died in 434 AD. He married x.

Generation 53

285885942841360. Prabu Tarumanagara IV. He married X.

285885942841361. X.

x and Prabu Tarumanagara IV had the following child:

142942971420680. i. Prabu Tarumanagara V (son of Prabu Tarumanagara IV and x). He married x.

285976380178560. Jayasingawarman was born in 382 AD. He married Dewi Minawati (daughter of Prabu Dewawarman VIII and Sphatikarnawa Warmandewi).

285976380178561. Dewi Minawati.

Dewi Minawati and Jayasingawarman had the following child:

1143543771365440. i. Prabu Tarumanagara II (son of Jayasingawarman and Dewi Minawati). He married x.

Generation 54

571771885682720. Purnawarman. He died in 434 AD. He married X.

571771885682721. X.

x and Purnawarman had the following child:

285885942841360. i. Prabu Tarumanagara IV (son of Purnawarman and x). He married x.

571952760357122. Prabu Dewawarman VIII. He died in 363 AD. He married Sphatikarnawa Warmandewi (daughter of Prabu Dewawarman VII and Sri Gandari Lengkaradewi).

571952760357123. Sphatikarnawa Warmandewi.

Sphatikarnawa Warmandewi and Prabu Dewawarman VIII had the following child:

2287087542730881. i. Dewi Minawati (daughter of Prabu Dewawarman VIII and Sphatikarnawa Warmandewi). She married Jayasingawarman. He was born in 382 AD.

Generation 55

1143543771365440. Prabu Tarumanagara II. He married X.

1143543771365441. X.

x and Prabu Tarumanagara II had the following child:

571771885682720. i. Purnawarman (son of Prabu Tarumanagara II and x). He died in 434 AD. He married x.

1143905520714244. Menteri Panglima Angkatan Laut Kerajaan Palawa. He married Sri Gandari Lengkaradewi (daughter of Prabu Dewawarman VI and Putri India).

1143905520714245. Sri Gandari Lengkaradewi.

Sri Gandari Lengkaradewi and Menteri Panglima Angkatan Laut Kerajaan Palawa had the following child:

4574175085461762. i. Prabu Dewawarman VIII (son of Menteri Panglima Angkatan Laut Kerajaan Palawa and Sri Gandari Lengkaradewi). He died in 363 AD. He married Sphatikarnawa Warmandewi (daughter of Prabu Dewawarman VII and Sri Gandari Lengkaradewi).

1143905520714246. Prabu Dewawarman VII. He married Sri Gandari Lengkaradewi

(daughter of Prabu Dewawarman VI and Putri India).

Generation 56

2287087542730880. Jayasingawarman was born in 382 AD. He married Dewi Minawati (daughter of Prabu Dewawarman VIII and Sphatikarnawa Warmandewi).

2287087542730881. Dewi Minawati.

Dewi Minawati and Jayasingawarman had the following child:

1143543771365440. i. Prabu Tarumanagara II (son of Jayasingawarman and Dewi Minawati). He married x.

2287811041428490. Prabu Dewawarman VI. He married Putri India.

2287811041428491. Putri India.

Putri India and Prabu Dewawarman VI had the following children:

9148350170923526. i. Prabu Dewawarman VII (son of Prabu Dewawarman VI and Putri India). He married Sri Gandari Lengkaradewi (daughter of Prabu Dewawarman VI and Putri India).

9148350170923525. ii. Sri Gandari Lengkaradewi (daughter of Prabu Dewawarman VI and Putri India). She married Prabu Dewawarman VII (son of Prabu Dewawarman VI and Putri India). She married Menteri Panglima Angkatan Laut Kerajaan Palawa.

Generation 57

4574175085461762. Prabu Dewawarman VIII. He died in 363 AD. He married Sphatikarnawa Warmandewi (daughter of Prabu Dewawarman VII and Sri Gandari Lengkaradewi).

4574175085461763. Sphatikarnawa Warmandewi.

Sphatikarnawa Warmandewi and Prabu Dewawarman VIII had the following child:

2287087542730881. i. Dewi Minawati (daughter of Prabu Dewawarman VIII and Sphatikarnawa Warmandewi). She married Jayasingawarman. He was born in 382 AD.

4575622082856980. Prabu Dewawarman V. He married Mahisa Suramardini Warmandewi (daughter of Prabu Dewawarman IV and Dewi Tirta Lengkara).

4575622082856981. Mahisa Suramardini Warmandewi.

Mahisa Suramardini Warmandewi and Prabu Dewawarman V had the following child:

18296700341847050. i. Prabu Dewawarman VI (son of Prabu Dewawarman V and Mahisa Suramardini Warmandewi). He married Putri India.

Generation 58

9148350170923524. Menteri Panglima Angkatan Laut Kerajaan Palawa. He married Sri Gandari Lengkaradewi (daughter of Prabu Dewawarman VI and Putri India).

9148350170923525. Sri Gandari Lengkaradewi.

Sri Gandari Lengkaradewi and Menteri Panglima Angkatan Laut Kerajaan Palawa had the following child:

9148350170923526. Prabu Dewawarman VII. He married Sri Gandari Lengkaradewi (daughter of Prabu Dewawarman VI and Putri India).

9151244165713962. Prabu Dewawarman IV. He married Dewi Tirta Lengkara (daughter of Prabu Dewawarman III and x).

9151244165713963. Dewi Tirta Lengkara.

Dewi Tirta Lengkara and Prabu Dewawarman IV had the following child:

36593400683694101. i. Mahisa Suramardini Warmandewi (daughter of Prabu Dewawarman IV and Dewi Tirta Lengkara). She married Prabu Dewawarman V.

Generation 59

18296700341847050. Prabu Dewawarman VI. He married Putri India.

18296700341847051. Putri India.

Putri India and Prabu Dewawarman VI had the following children:

9148350170923526. i. Prabu Dewawarman VII (son of Prabu Dewawarman VI and Putri India). He married Sri Gandari Lengkaradewi (daughter of Prabu Dewawarman VI and Putri India).

18302488331427926. Prabu Dewawarman III. He died in 238 AD. He married X.

18302488331427927. X.

x and Prabu Dewawarman III had the following child:

73186801367388203. i. Dewi Tirta Lengkara (daughter of Prabu Dewawarman III and x). She married Prabu Dewawarman IV.

Generation 60

36593400683694100. Prabu Dewawarman V. He married Mahisa Suramardini Warmandewi (daughter of Prabu Dewawarman IV and Dewi Tirta Lengkara).

36593400683694101. Mahisa Suramardini Warmandewi.

Mahisa Suramardini Warmandewi and Prabu Dewawarman V had the following child:

18296700341847050. i. Prabu Dewawarman VI (son of Prabu Dewawarman V and Mahisa Suramardini Warmandewi). He married Putri India.

36604976662855852. Prabu Dewawarman II. He died in 195 AD. He married X.

36604976662855853. X.

x and Prabu Dewawarman II had the following child:

146373602734776406. i. Prabu Dewawarman III (son of Prabu Dewawarman II and x). He died in 238 AD. He married x.

Generation 61

73186801367388202. Prabu Dewawarman IV. He married Dewi Tirta Lengkara (daughter of Prabu Dewawarman III and x).

73186801367388203. Dewi Tirta Lengkara.

Dewi Tirta Lengkara and Prabu Dewawarman IV had the following child:

36593400683694101. i. Mahisa Suramardini Warmandewi (daughter of Prabu Dewawarman IV and Dewi Tirta Lengkara). She married Prabu Dewawarman V.

73209953325711704. Prabu Dewawarman I. He died in 168 AD. He married Pohaci Larasati (daughter of Aki Tirem and x).

73209953325711705. Pohaci Larasati.

Pohaci Larasati and Prabu Dewawarman I had the following child:

292747205469552812. i. Prabu Dewawarman II (son of Prabu Dewawarman I and Pohaci Larasati). He died in 195 AD. He married x.

Generation 62

146373602734776406. Prabu Dewawarman III. He died in 238 AD. He married X.

146373602734776407. X.

x and Prabu Dewawarman III had the following child:

73186801367388203. i. Dewi Tirta Lengkara (daughter of Prabu Dewawarman III and x). She married Prabu Dewawarman IV.

146419906651423408. Bhatara. He married X.

146419906651423409. X.

x and Bhatara had the following child:

585494410939105624. i. Prabu Dewawarman I (son of Bhatara and x). He died in 168 AD. He married Pohaci Larasati (daughter of Aki Tirem and x).

146419906651423410. Aki Tirem. He married X.

146419906651423411. X.

x and Aki Tirem had the following child:

585494410939105625. i. Pohaci Larasati (daughter of Aki Tirem and x). She married Prabu Dewawarman I (son of Bhatara and x). He died in 168 AD.

Generation 63

292747205469552812. Prabu Dewawarman II. He died in 195 AD. He married X.

292747205469552813. X.

x and Prabu Dewawarman II had the following child:

146373602734776406. i. Prabu Dewawarman III (son of Prabu Dewawarman II and x). He died in 238 AD. He married x.

292839813302846820. Ki Srengga. He married X.

292839813302846821. X.

x and Ki Srengga had the following child:

1170988821878211250. i. Aki Tirem (son of Ki Srengga and x). He married x.

Generation 64

585494410939105624. Prabu Dewawarman I. He died in 168 AD. He married Pohaci Larasati (daughter of Aki Tirem and x).

585494410939105625. Pohaci Larasati.

Pohaci Larasati and Prabu Dewawarman I had the following child:

292747205469552812. i. Prabu Dewawarman II (son of Prabu Dewawarman I and Pohaci Larasati). He died in 195 AD. He married x.

585679626605693640. X. He married Nyai Saniti Warawiri (daughter of Aki Bajulpakel and x).

585679626605693641. Nyai Saniti Warawiri.

Nyai Saniti Warawiri and x had the following child:

2341977643756422500. i. Ki Srengga (son of x and Nyai Saniti Warawiri). He married x.

Generation 65

1170988821878211248. Bhatara. He married X.

1170988821878211249. X.

x and Bhatara had the following child:

585494410939105624. i. Prabu Dewawarman I (son of Bhatara and x). He died in 168 AD. He married Pohaci Larasati (daughter of Aki Tirem and x).

1170988821878211250. Aki Tirem. He married X.

1170988821878211251. X.

x and Aki Tirem had the following child:

585494410939105625. i. Pohaci Larasati (daughter of Aki Tirem and x). She married Prabu Dewawarman I (son of Bhatara and x). He died in 168 AD.

1171359253211387282. Aki Bajulpakel. He married X.

1171359253211387283. X.

x and Aki Bajulpakel had the following child:

4683955287512845001. i. Nyai Saniti Warawiri (daughter of Aki Bajulpakel and x). She married x.

Generation 66

2341977643756422500. Ki Srengga. He married X.

2341977643756422501. X.

x and Ki Srengga had the following child:

1170988821878211250. i. Aki Tirem (son of Ki Srengga and x). He married x.

2342718506422774564. Aki Dungkul. He married X.

2342718506422774565. X.

x and Aki Dungkul had the following child:

9367910575025690002. i. Aki Bajulpakel (son of Aki Dungkul and x). He married x.

Generation 67

4683955287512845000. X. He married Nyai Saniti Warawiri (daughter of Aki Bajulpakel and x).

4683955287512845001. Nyai Saniti Warawiri.

Nyai Saniti Warawiri and x had the following child:

2341977643756422500. i. Ki Srengga (son of x and Nyai Saniti Warawiri). He married x.

4685437012845549128. Ki Pawang Sawen. He married X.

4685437012845549129. X.

x and Ki Pawang Sawen had the following child:

18735821150051380004. i. Aki Dungkul (son of Ki Pawang Sawen and x). He married x.

Generation 68

9367910575025690002. Aki Bajulpakel. He married X.

9367910575025690003. X.

x and Aki Bajulpakel had the following child:

4683955287512845001. i. Nyai Saniti Warawiri (daughter of Aki Bajulpakel and x). She married x.

9370874025691098256. Datuk Pawang Marga. He married X.

9370874025691098257. X.

x and Datuk Pawang Marga had the following child:

37471642300102760008. i. Ki Pawang Sawen (son of Datuk Pawang Marga and x). He married x.

Generation 69

18735821150051380004. Aki Dungkul. He married X.

18735821150051380005. X.

x and Aki Dungkul had the following child:

9367910575025690002. i. Aki Bajulpakel (son of Aki Dungkul and x). He married x.

18741748051382196512. Ki Bagang. He married X.

18741748051382196513. X.

x and Ki Bagang had the following child:

74943284600205520016. i. Datuk Pawang Marga (son of Ki Bagang and x). He married x.

Generation 70

37471642300102760008. Ki Pawang Sawen. He married X.

37471642300102760009. X.

x and Ki Pawang Sawen had the following child:

18735821150051380004. i. Aki Dungkul (son of Ki Pawang Sawen and x). He married x.

37483496102764393024. Datuk Waling. He married X.

37483496102764393025. X.

x and Datuk Waling had the following child:

149886569200411040032. i. Ki Bagang (son of Datuk Waling and x). He married x.

Generation 71

74943284600205520016. Datuk Pawang Marga. He married X.

74943284600205520017. X.

x and Datuk Pawang Marga had the following child:

37471642300102760008. i. Ki Pawang Sawen (son of Datuk Pawang Marga and x). He married x.

74966992205528786048. Datuk Banda. He married X.

74966992205528786049. X.

x and Datuk Banda had the following child:

299773138400822080064. i. Datuk Waling (son of Datuk Banda and x). He married x.

Generation 72

149886569200411040032. Ki Bagang. He married X.

149886569200411040033. X.

x and Ki Bagang had the following child:

74943284600205520016. i. Datuk Pawang Marga (son of Ki Bagang and x). He married x.

149933984411057572096. Nesan. He married X.

149933984411057572097. X.

x and Nesan had the following child:

599546276801644160128. i. Datuk Banda (son of Nesan and x). He married x.

Generation 73

299773138400822080064. Datuk Waling. He married X.

299773138400822080065. X.

x and Datuk Waling had the following child:

149886569200411040032. i. Ki Bagang (son of Datuk Waling and x). He married x.

Generation 74

599546276801644160128. Datuk Banda. He married X.

599546276801644160129. X.

x and Datuk Banda had the following child:

299773138400822080064. i. Datuk Waling (son of Datuk Banda and x). He married x.

Generation 75

1199092553603288320256. Nesan. He married X.

1199092553603288320257. X.

x and Nesan had the following child:

599546276801644160128. i. Datuk Banda (son of Nesan and x). He married x.

Ang Mga Maniniyot ug Litratista sa Karaang Sugbo

2023-09-18T15:12:00.001+08:00

A Spanish mestizo family at C. Aguilar's studio (upscaled, inpainted, colorized)

In the age of smartphones and digital photography, capturing a moment has become as simple as a tap on the screen. Anyone with a smartphone can instantly snap a photo and share it with the world. However, this convenience stands in stark contrast to the early days of photography, especially in the historical context of Cebu, where the art of image-making was a skill practiced by professional photographers and studios. In this article, we delve into the captivating history of photography in old Cebu, exploring the fascinating world of the famous photographers and photo studios now lost in time.

The term "maniniyot" is derived from the Cebuano word "siyot," a corruption of the English word "shot" (taking a shot from a camera). This nomenclature harkens back to when skilled artisans, known as "maniniyot," meticulously craft photographs through laborious processes like daguerreotype and wet-plate collodion. Similarly, the word "litratista" refers to those who specialized in portraiture and captured the essence of their subjects in photographs. These terms reflect the rich linguistic and cultural heritage of Cebu, where photography was not just a profession but an art form deeply intertwined with the local identity.

Although these words can be taken interchangeably, the former are those people engaged in a trade of taking photographs of people in public areas or events. They are the ones who are carrying their bulky camera and equipment at the Fuente Osmeña or Plaza Independencia. Meanwhile, the latter are those managing photo studios in downtown Cebu, many of these old family-owned established have served customers for generations. They make sure you get that classic feel to your portraits and family photos with custom backgrounds that take you to exotic places you have never been to. Nowadays, professional photographers have to fight for their existence as the democratization of photography has made it possible for everyone to take photos for their Instagram profile and even edit them on Canva or Hipstamatic complete with a more retro effect to simulate real old photographs.

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With the use of artificial intelligence, we can upscale the old photos, fill out the missing gaps with inpainting, and test out different color palettes to give these rare black-and-white snapshots some sort of vibrancy.

What makes photography from the old days so fascinating is not only the technical mastery required but also the tangible sense of history it evokes. These early photographs serve as time capsules, preserving the faces, fashions, and lifestyles of a bygone era. Each image tells a story, allowing us to glimpse into the lives of Cebuanos who lived generations ago. In a world dominated by digital images, handcrafted and carefully preserved photographs serve as a poignant reminder of the enduring power of visual storytelling and the indomitable spirit of human creativity.

The Early Years

We are always having this nostalgia for the old days thanks to photographs shared by a lot of people on social media sites and online communities. However, many of these old photos are not properly identified and more importantly, attributed to the right photographers. Sometimes, these photographs' story and historical context are not properly discussed.

Back in the latter half of the 19th century, several pharmacies or ‘boticas’ were selling photo supplies for some photography enthusiasts (usually Spanish, mestizos, and other rich 'illustrados' who could afford such an expensive hobby). Finding the oldest known photograph of Cebu may not be possible for now but Calixto Aguilar is considered as the first commercial photographer of that time. Along with Luis Castaño, they were the pioneers of the photography scene in the late 1880s.

Sample postcards from C. Aguilar

He opened "Galeria de Fotografia de C. Aguilar" along Calle Cadiz (now Manuel Logarta Street) where he made calling card portraits, or ‘cartes de visite,’ and cabinet cards with ornate back designs. Interestingly, the branding showed a highly-stylized branding of his photo studio for the more expensive item while a simple hand stamp of his name for the cheaper item.

Fort San Pedro, 1899 (upscaled, colorized)

Fishing boats docking at fondeadero, 1899 (upscaled, colorized)

Castaño operated the "Fotografia Filipina" from 1895 to 1902. Other prominent studios during their times include the "Fotografia Espanola de Cebu" and the "Gran Novedad Fotografia."

A New Century

As the 1900s began, a new wave of photographers emerged just as the Americans took over the country and the Spanish left for good. One of them was a Manila-based Spanish photographer Manuel Arias, who came to Cebu during this time and showcased photographs on Japanese-made postcards featuring the anchorage and the Fort San Pedro.

The Postcard Era

In 1899, British photographers Roy Squires and William Bingham began selling photo supplies and postcards marked by their distinctive SB monogram. One of their interesting photographic views was the one taken on the San Nicolas Church in 1902. A woman carrying her baby was leaning on the statue in front of the plaza while another older woman was squatting on the side.

San Nicolas Church, 1902 (upscaled, colorized)

By the time the bloody Filipino-American War started to wane down in the Visayas, Dean C. Tatom was discharged from the U.S. Army in October 1899. Instead of going back home, he decided to stay and seek his own adventure by starting his own photography business in Cebu. He started producing ‘cartes de visite’ as there was a steady stream of customers, mostly fellow American soldiers, dropping by his studio. Like Aguilar’s business model, he had hand-stamped backs for the calling cards and used fancier backs (imported from Vienna) for the cabinet cards.

Sample postcards from D. Tatom

Vendors selling bananas by the roadside, 1902 (upscaled, colorized)

Colegio de San Carlos (upscaled, colorized)

Old nipa house with street lamp in front (upscaled, colorized)

Carabao cart transporting women (upscaled, colorized)

Tatom usually produced 5” x 7” photos from 1901 to 1908. Many of these don’t have his name printed as they were intended to be pasted into albums. Interestingly enough, some of these photographs have typewritten captions. He has a locally printed set of at least 25 sepia-toned postcards without captions with a monogram of the photo engraver’s initials at the bottom corners with a Tarjeta Postal – Post Card on the back.

Cebuano insurgents surrender to the Insular Constabulary, 1901 (upscaled, colorized)

Camera Supply Company from Manila have started printing out colored postcards of Cebu as well. One of these was the previously unidentified freight train postcard and now identified because of the distinctive topography.

PNR engineers surveying the newly built line in Cebu, 1909 (upscaled, colorized)

Some of his works were published by the Manila-based Photo Supply Company as black-and-white and colorized postcards. Another prolific postcard publisher Thomas P. Joseph of the American Bazaar on Calle Magallanes sold some of the earlier photos by Tatom. These were colorized using a special collotype set with a smooth finish from Germany. The LS Company (originally Lambert Springer and later Lambert Sales) also sold postcards using photographs taken by ex-U.S. Army soldiers like Charles Martin, Samuel Shera, and Edward Gallaher.

Cebu baseball team champion, 1910 (upscaled) from LS Co.

The devastation brought by a typhoon that hit Guadalupe, 1912 (upscaled, colorized)

He had a lot of impressive photographic works that captured the life in the city during that time. He married Blandina Sabellano and later, Victoriana Basaga. He died in 1937.

Joseph, was actually a Youssef, a "Syrian" immigrant from the Ottoman Empire with links to Iraq. They are from a Christian family in the Levant, who eventually settled in Madras in British India. Both Thomas and brother Lazarus were born there. They later came to Cebu in search of a better life and great opportunities. His daughter Beatrice married another immigrant named Said Deen, the cousin of Alfredo and Eddie Deen and nephew of Najib Deen. He owned successful businesses selling all sorts of imported European, American and Japanese merchandise, including quality postcards.

Sample postcards from Thomas P. Joseph

The American Bazar was located at Calle Magallanes, 1910 (upscaled)

Cebu train station, 1910 (upscaled, colorized)

American flag flying on top of the old Cebu Provincial Building, 1911 (upscaled, colorized)

Some of the postcards he published were some of the earliest colored photos of Cebu. Many of these were printed using a special German collotype with a smooth finish. Soon, his brother Lazarus started his own postcard business (under the L.G. Joseph name) as well. Many of the photos captured some of the places in Cebu that no longer exist to a certain point.

Boy with his father selling weaved-bamboo amakan, c1915 (upscaled, colorized)

Cebu Fire Station, c1915 (upscaled, colorized)

Calle Magallanes, c1915 (upscaled)

Cebu Lumber sign beside the Colegio de San Carlos, c1915 (upscaled, colorized)

Cebu Train Station, c1915 (upscaled, colorized)

Fiesta de San Juan Bautista, c1915 (upscaled, colorized)

Austrian immigrant David Leopold Falek also entered the scene in 1904 when he published interesting postcards of Cebu during the early prewar period. He bought the old International Hotel, along Calle Colon and Calle Carmelo, and renamed it to Hotel Vienna. Furthermore, he eventually bought Teatro Oriente and married Maria Rivera Mir.

A promotional poster for Cebu's 1st Exposition and Carnival

One of the interesting postcard he produced was the one for Cebu's 1st Exposition and Carnival on December 29, 1913 to January 3, 1914. Another prominent photographer in this decade was Simeon Cavinta of Fotografia Universal.

The Twenties

By the 1920s, new players in the photography scene had entered the market. Photo Materials and Paper Company of Cebu published color-printed postcards in 1924 that was made by Curt Teich & Company from Chicago. The publisher was Lithuanian emigre Henry Aronson, who was also a former U.S. Army serviceman. He ended up settling in Cebu where he married Maria C. Garcia from Talisay, raised children, and acquired properties in Minglanilla and Lahug.

The bustling scene at the Cebu port area, 1924 (upscaled, colorized)

Aronson's photo studio along Calle Magallanes, 1924 (upscaled, colorized)

He showcased various scenes of everyday life in the city during that time. However, it is not certain if he was really indeed a photographer as his store housed other photo studios like Aghma Studio.

By the late 1920s, more and more Cebuanos were able to send or give photos of themselves or their group to friends, relatives, and acquaintances than before. Many of the photo studios by this time were offering personal portraits while some provided wardrobes for clients to borrow and even, fancy painted backdrops to choose from.

Chong Bunkhong became the most prolific photographer of his time

The advent of disposable cameras democratized the photography business to a certain point. Although it's still dominated by foreigners and the rich mestizo class, a Chinese man named Chiong Bungkhong started his studio Fotografia Artistica, which was active from 1904 to 1926, thereby breaking the barrier of this industry. He became the most prolific photographer in Cebu at that time.

Aside from Chiong, another Chinese businessman who operated a popular photo studio was S. Chayseng with his Chayseng Studio (also known as Fotografia Tokming and Centro Moderno Fotografico) from 1915 to 1930. It was known for its decorative pre-printed postcard stock and embossed photos with an elaborate seal.

Portrait of an unknown gentleman, c1925 (upscaled, colorized)

Class photo at Immaculada Concepcion, c1925 (upscaled, colorized)

There is a photograph taken at the Immaculada Concepcion and an unknown portrait of a gentleman was attributed to Chayseng.

Group photo of Cebuano teenagers, 1927 (upscaled, colorized)

In Carcar, there was the Mancao Studio with the famous Filemon "Frank" Mancao, who became famous for documenting the plight of Filipino farmworkers in California during the Great Depression. There is one particular photo that stood out - 'The flowers of Pook' taken by L.A. Mancao on June 17, 1927. These days, Pooc is now a barangay in Talisay City.

The Thirties

By the 1930s, Cebu Studio became the most prestigious photo studio in the city with its main branch at Calle Juan Luna. In a time when war tensions were on the horizon, this was owned by a Japanese expatriate M.S. Kuboki. Unlike its competitors, Cebu Studio had its own pre-printed type of postcard photo paper with its film envelope showcasing its Kodak film.

Opon Church, c1930 (upscaled, colorized)

Ang Kalipayan movie theater, c1930 (upscaled, colorized)

Southern Islands Auditorium, c1930 (upscaled, colorized)

Among its famous postcards were landscapes and other scenes such as the Opon church, the Ang Kalipayan movie theater, and Southern Islands Auditorium, which featured the legendary vaudeville performer Luis Borromeo.

Portrait of Isidora Siloria, c1930 (upscaled, colorized)

Cebu Studio also specialized in exquisite society portraits for women who wanted to be like Hollywood beauty Greta Garbo and one of them who rose to fame was renowned singer and actress Isidora Siloria. Other Japanese-owned photo studios include the Hijada Studio and Sun Studio (operated by B. Nagata).

Princess Anne of Just Imagine Club, 1932 (upscaled, colorized)

Crowning of Queen Domenica, 1937 (upscaled, colorized)

National Studio was active during this decade as it often covered events outside the city such as the crowning of Princess Annie of Just Imagine Club in Pinamungahan on April 16, 1932, and Her Majesty Queen Domenica I and Consort, elected 'Miss Liberty' at the Dalaguete Town fiesta on February 14-15, 1937.

It was also this decade when women finally entered the photography profession even though it was only on September 17, 1937, when women's suffrage was finally legalized after the plebiscite of 300,000 was surpassed with 447,725 affirmed their aspiration to vote against 33,307 nays.

Encarnacion Livionko with consort Victorino Climaco at the 1927 Cebu Carnival (upscaled, colorized)

Studio photo of a girl, c1930 (upscaled, colorized)

Studio photo of two women in traditional Filipiniana, c1930 (upscaled, colorized)

Also known as R. Gonzales Studio and Fotografia Feminista, the Rosa Studio was named after Rosa Gonzales de Tumulak. It was located at different times from 152 Calle Manalili and 213 Calle Juan Luna. It produced studio portraits with elaborate props.

There are photo studios that operated prior to and after the Second World War - Sanson Studio, Venus Studio, and Shadow Studio.

The indoor baseball team of the Cebu Normal School, 1933 (upscaled, colorized)

A woman in Filipiniana costume in Star Studio, c1930 (upscaled, colorized)

The next time you see an old man holding a film camera and wanting to take a photo of you, get one for a change. Our history and cultural heritage were captured in photos back in the day and things we thought we knew may no longer exist in the future.