Maverhick: Hablon

Hablon Strands

IT'S fascinating to think that each bolt of cloth is made up of untold minute threads. Hundreds, maybe even thousands of filaments meticulously put together, every single one adding to the awe of the whole. Horizontal and vertical spectrums meeting at right angles to form patterns. Long strands running down the length of the fabric, threads that flow like rivers.

Long strands that once passed through the fingers of a weaver, taught at a young age the dance of threads, how each one must be manipulated to be put into place. For many generations, such has been passed on from mother to daughter. An inheritance interlaced with tales and myths, some fading away after neglect, some growing with the children of the weavers.

One such story is recounted in Mandaya folklore. It speaks of how a young woman stumbled upon a beautiful fabric on the trunk of gnarled Balete tree, by a river that ran calm like soft threads; and how a benevolent and gentle spirit, the Tagamaling, owner of the cloth, welcomed the woman into her earthen home bestowing unto her visitor the knowledge of weaving, then letting the woman return to her village, to propagate the art. The spirit whose name was whispered solemnly by the weavers of old, asking for skill and giving thanks, before starting on a new bolt of cloth.

I thought it only appropriate to murmur the name to myself before starting my journey. Like the early weavers with their antique looms, I must show my respect to the giving spirit.

Indag-an is roughly 4 kilometers from Miag-ao's town proper. I boarded a tricycle at a terminal near Miag-ao Church. The Indag-an Primary Multipurpose Cooperative was a 10-minute ride away.

The welcoming thud of looms echoed through my ears as I entered the IPMC. Ample sunlight radiated on the colored threads and half-finished fabrics of the weavers. Inside the room were 10 looms crowded together in the narrow area. Strikingly about 7 other looms were outside, placed there due to lack of space.

The Indag-an Primary Multi-purpose Cooperative was put up to support the local weavers of the baranggay in 1990, and since then the cooperative has become a center for the weaving of Hablon, multi-colored fabrics made from jusi, silk, and piña fibers. LGUs of Miag-ao have shown unwavering support for project. Also, several local designers have incorporated Hablon into their pieces, renewing interest for the product. More than 20 years later, the IPMC still continues its operations in service of its weavers and members.

Among them is Aling Maryeta, who at 63 years of age, is the oldest member of the cooperative. Noticeable are her calloused fingers, worn out by her lifetime of weaving, yet surprising are their agility in handling threads. Born of an impoverished family, she had the chance to study only until Grade six. Early on she had to work to contribute to her family’s livelihood. Fostered by her aunt, she learned the art of weaving. She recalls having several looms or tiral as they are called in Hiligaynon, in their house as a child; some of them she claims have been in their family for more than a hundred years, passed from one generation to another, along with the designs and techniques of their ancestors.

She shares that through her efforts and the help of the cooperative, four of her children have taken up college degrees and are now employed teachers, with their own growing families. She admits to feeling aches and difficulties, but still strives to finish each and every bolt of cloth she starts.

I ask her how long she plans to continue her weaving. “Asta maglabog mata ko eh.”, she answers smiling. Till her eyes finally fail her. “Beautifully said”, I say to myself.

III

As I walked away from the IPMC, waiting for a tricycle to pass, the muffled sound of looms continued to fill the air. I find shade beside a tall tree with knotted roots.

Weaving, an art form once held in grandeur is now fading away; slowly dying with each weaver that leaves this world. Bitter-sweet as it is; many of Aling Maryeta’s children have chosen to venture other roads, roads they see as having more opportunities, while only one has accepted her inheritance of the valued skill. The art of weaving is slowly fading away.

I recall Aling Maryeta’s words of continuing her craft until her sight fails her. I sincerely wish that day will never come, and that she’ll have a long and happy life. I pray to the Tagamaling to watch over her as she handles the many lengths of thread that goes through her nimble fingers. May she always be given the needed skill, energy, and patience to keep the thuds and sounds of wooden frames resonating. I wish for her to age like the looms of her childhood, more than a hundred years of life but still strong enough to hold the unbound threads of a cloth yet to be finished.

The late afternoon sun casts soft shadows on the asphalt road below my feet. The trike steadily moves farther and farther away from Indag-an.

Note: This essay notched me a finalist slot for the “Breaking the Ground: A Life Well Spent” National Essay Writing Contest launched by Project Calidad Humana and supported by the Embassy of Chile and the Philippine Department of Foreign Affairs.

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, by Rhick Lars Vladimer Albay

Advocacy

Tumandok Threads

IN Kinno Florentino’s vision for Iloilo, the past and the future blend seamlessly into a hablon dress. He sees Iloilo’s women clad in garb inspired by our province’s Panay-Bukidnon communities, standing tall and proud against the city’s most iconic sites ¬– the Arroyo Fountain, Calle Real, the Molo Mansion ¬¬– their eyes fiery, staring fearlessly into the future.

Tubok, named after the Tumandok / Panay-Bukidnon tradition of ornate embroidery Panubok, is the first solo exhibit and fashion project of Kinno Florentino, a fourth-year Fine Arts student of the University of San Agustin. In Tubok, Kinno adds a unique spin to our province’s indigenous traditional costume, envisioning them worn by the modern Ilongga, all the while encouraging the preservation of local customs.

“I wanted to innovate the clothing, but still keep in mind Ilonggo culture,” said Kinno, expressing that fashion is his favorite art medium. “Panubok is one of the many unknown icons of Panay identity, and [it] should be learned [by coming] generations.”

Kinno shares he was once frustrated that Visayas’ indigenous people (IP), especially the communes of Central Panay, were not given as much attention as tribes from Luzon and Mindanao. Finding out about our island’s Panay-Bukidnon communities, he was awestruck by their vibrant and distinct customs.

For research and to stay true to the Tumandok tradition, Kinno visited the IP community in Barangay Garangan, Calinog four times in a span of six months, immersing himself in their culture. What he learned was the art of traditional embroidery and how it has been passed down from generation to generation for more than hundreds of years.

“[I saw that] through Panubok, our ancestors were not only able to share their traditions but also pass down knowledge and education,” recalls Kinno who sees his exhibit as a way to stir greater conversation about our province’s indigenous people.

A self-described “ambitious and demanding perfectionist,” Kinno expresses that he had to fight through a lot of time constraints to make his show perfect – finishing the fashion pieces in just over a month, and completing the all the wall-mounted paintings with just a week’s notice.

Kinno used local products to design his dresses, mainly the famed hablon of Miag-ao, embroidering them with traditional ornate patterns inspired by the Panay-Bukidnon panubok. “Each Panubok pattern has an exact meaning and is usually associated with animal features such as bird’s eyes, and snake skins,” shares Kinno.

To complement his fashion show, Kinno translated his designs to canvas. “The paintings of these clothes worn by Ilongga models set in different Iloilo Heritage sites will show how the modern women embrace their ethno-cultural identity and independence through fashion,” expressed the young artist.

Kinno dedicates his first solo exhibit to the Panay-Bukidnon community, showing earnestness to instilling a sense of Ilonggo identity and culture in coming generations. “It is important to preserve the identity of the Panay-Bukidnon and the stories that they tell,” muses Kinno, his eyes fiery, staring fearlessly into the future.