During the Marcos Sr. days, a charismatic chieftain of the warlike Kalinga tribe named Macli-ing Dulag led the opposition to the infamous Chico Dam Hydroelectric Project, which would dramatically affect the lives, homes, livelihood, and culture not only of the Kalingas, but of the many other tribes of the Cordillera Mountain Range. For the Chico River was the main watershed encompassing hundreds of kilometers of lush mountain farmlands of various tribes.

After Macli-ing succeeded in destroying the unfinished dam, he was killed by the Armed Forces in April 1980. But his death paved the way for the government to finally abandon the project, knowing that the warlike Kalingas would not stop destroying it. Macli-ing though had to pay with his blood.

Macli-ing is regarded as the Andres Bonifacio of the Cordillera tribes. His fame spread across the international community as a champion of ethnic survival against the vicious Marcos dictatorship. For many years, an annual festival hosted by various tribal communities was organized, attended by many foreigners. I was privileged to attend the festival in Conner, Apayao in the early ‘80s.

More than 1,500 people attended the three-day festival, 10 to 15 percent of them foreigners. Representatives of tribes from around the country graced the affair. Local journalists, including myself, and foreign correspondents would not miss this awesome gathering.

The festival was under surveillance by the military because the tribal rebels had ties to the communist New People’s Army (NPA), although they stood apart representing tribal issues. It was understood that the NPA was also in attendance. I ignored both the clandestine rebels and the soldiers in the crowd, intent only on enjoying and documenting the historic affair. After all, there was no war, just intelligence gathering.

We had to cross the raging Chico River, with its medium-strength current and chest to neck-high waters. I was afraid to lose my footing on the huge stones, so I moved slowly, camera on my head. A guide carried my backpack. It would be cheaper to break a knee than a camera, I presumed. The huge Australian and German women were carried piggy-back by the smaller but strong natives, to the delight of both. Romance was in the air. Later, there was news of cross-cultural babies.

Feeding 1,500 people three times a day was a major undertaking. It was a cañao (kanyaw) of sorts, an ancient pre-Hispanic food festival tradition. There was a massive open-door kitchen the size of half a basketball court. The festival guests ate a total of eight carabaos (water buffalo), close to a dozen mother pigs, and an unknown number of chickens for the foreign guests who could not stand the aroma of carabao meat.

Giant carcasses, slabs of ribs, were thrown into 1.5-meter diameter cauldrons for boiling, unwashed and unshaved. They were then given to a team of about a dozen women for chopping into small pieces, which were boiled again before serving.

Lunch and dinner every day for three days was the same — steamed rice on banana leaf and carabao meat with its broth in foot-tall bamboo “cups.” No time for veggies. If you did not eat right away, the broth would solidify into lard in the cold weather, which you could then use for a candle if you had no flashlight.

It took eight hours, from 3 a.m. to 11 a.m., to prepare lunch, from slaughter to cleaning to boiling to chopping to serving. Lunch was from 11 a.m. to 2 p.m. with long queues, overlapping with the program of speakers, singers, and dancers.

There was a daily program of speeches from people, local and foreign, extolling the martyr Macli-ing. There were ethnic dances in the evening and a sharing of ethnic cultures. I was particularly moved by the ancient war song of the Kalingas. Their impromptu howling and hooting made my hair stand. The Kalinga singers would go into a trance, screaming their hearts out. It was one grand affair, heart-rending and mind-blowing all at once.

My interviews revolved around their socio-economic problems. This vanishing breed of ancient peoples was mostly hemmed in by giant forces. Their crises revolved around two great issues – loss of ancestral lands, and loss of ancestral heritage and culture. Sadly, this two-fold crisis was true for most of the ethnic communities nationwide and even worldwide.