I - Background Information:
Northern Mindanao is assigned as Region X in the Philippines and composes of five provinces namely; Bukidnon, Camiguin, Lanao del Norte, Misamis Occidental, Misamis Oriental, and it covers a total land area of 20,132 km2 with a total number population of 3,952,437 (as of 2007).
Political Map of Northern Mindanao Region
The region has a total number of 9 Cities, 84 Municipalities, and 2,022 Barangays. Northern Mindanao got the two highly urbanized City, and the regional center is Cagayan de Oro City where you can find the national government’s regional offices and so are the big establishments located in this area. While Lanao del Norte before was part of Region XII, but it was being transferred to Region X (as Central Mindanao) by Executive Order No. 36. Different cultural groups can be found in the region mostly are migrant from Cebu and Iloilo. Other group lived in the region are the Bukidnons, Manobos and Muslims.
Political divisions
Seal | | Capital | Population
(2000) | Area
(km²) | Pop. density
(per km²) |
| | | 1,060,265 | 8,293.8 | 127.8 |
| | | 74,232 | 229.8 | 323.0 |
| | | 473,062 | 2,278.6 | 207.6 |
| | | 486,723 | 1,939.3 | 251.0 |
| | | 664,338 | 3,081.1 | 215.6 |
| | | | | |
| | — | 461,877 | 488.86 | 944.8 |
| | — | 308,046 | 813.37 | 479.5 |
Various dialect spoke in the region since various people can be found, languages like Hocano, Tagalog, Ilonggo, and Waray and the main dialect spoken in the region is Cebuano or Visaya. Most part of the province in the region especially Misamis Occidental and Oriental are forest where it is a good source of copra, lumber and abaca, coconut.
In terms of economy where the regions mainly get their source are agricultural and produced crash crops like, banana, corn, coffee, pineapple, cabbage, onions, mangoes, and jackfruits. And so are therapeutic plant are harvested in the region. The region is the third largest producer of corn and banana in the country. But the active growth of industrial company helps to aid the economy of the region. The famous Del Monte Philippines are located at Bukidnon while its processing plant is placed in Cagayan de Oro. In Iligan City is the home of Hydroelectric plant that supplies electric power in most part of Mindanao, the National Power Corporation.
The region is rich in tourist spot not only the beauty of natural resources surrounded in it but also the well known and famous beaches are in the region. The unspoiled beauty of paradise island of Camiguin, Bukidnon known as the region’s food basket, where you can find all types of crops and the pineapple plantation of Del Monte Phil. The beautiful twin falls of Maria Cristina Falls of Iligan City, and many other views that you can visit. The new spot to visit is the Dolphin Island in Sinakaban, Misamis Occidental and the famous water rafting in Cagayan de Oro City.
Going to the region is not difficult it is accessible either by air, land or water transport. Buses and jeepneys are the major means of transport in the region. Since most of the town and cities in provinces are linked by well road networks. There is an Inter-island ferry and the Lumbia Airport in Cagayan that caters domestic flights from Manila and Cebu.
People behind Region X:
· Nikki Bacolod – 1st Runner for Search for a Star in a Million Contest.
· Bayang – One of the country’s beautiful voices and known for her indigenous music style.
· Noela Mae Evangelista – 2nd runner Bb. Pilipinas 2003, and crowned Ms. Queen of Tourism 2003 in Cancun, Mexico.
· Mark Bautista – Pop heartthrob and one of the hottest balladeers in the music industry
Events/Celebration:
· Golden Float Parade – August 26-28, Cagayan de Oro City
· Sakay sa Lambago – August 26-28, Cagayan de Oro City
· Kumbira – No specific date.
· Tuao Patronal Fiesta – October 1-2, Tuao Cagayan
· Dawitdawit Ta Buahan – October 24, Bonbon, Camiguin
· Alimango Festival – March 22, Lala, Lanao del Norte
· Sagayan Festival – July 04, Tubod, Lanao del Norte
· Kaliga Festival – July 22, Gingoog City, Misamis Oriental
· Lubi-lubi Festival – May 22, Gingoog City, Misamis Oriental
· Hudyaka Festival – July 12 Languindingan, Misamis Oriental
· Dalit Festival – September 29 Tangub, Misamis Occidental
II - Literary Pieces:
Small People: Dusk in Capillahan
By Regino L Gonzales, Jr. .
(A tale of a simple village life.)
The sun was about to set in the mountain village of Capillahan. A skinny lad wearily walked home, tired from a hard days work, dragging baskets of coal from the bowels of the coal mine to a waiting hauling truck.
“Steaming vegetable soap followed by a wholesome bath of rain water collected in earthen jars will be good”, he promised himself. It did not happen.
A flock of mother hens trailed by their merry chicks met him on the yard leading to his hut cackling for their favorite corn grits. “Be patient little ones, you’ll have it in a minute”, he forced a smile and rushed to the hut to scoop a bowl of grits from an open sack. He sprinkled the grits to the delight of the small chicks.
Shortly, colorful arrogant roosters raced in to feed on the scattered granules, competing with chicks. They were timely. They regularly arrive at sunset to feed after their daily wanderings to scratch for worms at the edges of the nearby forest.
“You big guys…leave some to the little ones,” he shouted, raised his hands in frustration and went back to the hut to scoop more grits to satiate the flocks.
The sun had completely hidden itself at the back of the big mountain when monsoon winds suddenly pushed dark rain clouds overhead. Rain-fearing goats, previously leisurely grazing on the lush grassy plain, came bleating loudly near their shed. The lad understood their pleas and obliged. He opened the shed for them to shelter in.
He smiled, satisfied. He had done a full days work. And ready to indulge with the steaming vegetable soup that the old woman, his beloved aunt, normally prepare for him.
It was getting dark and he was about to enter the hut when he heard porcine cries. Hot bodies and hard snouts started rubbing and thumping his legs. They have returned. He last saw them in the morning walking away with abandon for their daily search for edible root crops.
“God, the pigs have not been fed yet”, he exclaimed and proceeded to prepare and fill their feeding trough with the corn bran.
Dusk and the lad thought he had finally finished his menial tasks for the day. The chicks were already silent, safely tucked underneath the protective wings of their respective mother hens. The arrogant roosters were perched on branches of the trees surrounding the hut. The goats were silent. And the pigs seemed to be snoring contentedly in their corner of the shed they share with the goats.
“Tasks are done, now dinner, never mind the steaming vegetable soap. Will bathe, later”, he thought and walked slowly to the hut. His aunt was sweating in front of a hot earthen stove when he entered. With a small bamboo tube, she was busily blowing air into wet firewood to keep the stove fires burning.
She glanced to him and casually mentioned that “the carabao is still relishing in the pond” and that it will be picked up in the morning by a farmer friend for plowing an adjacent corn field.
“Jesus, there’s no way finishing these tasks,” he complained to himself and plodded to a foot trail leading to the muddy pond, the buffalo’s favorite hangout.
The meek beast reluctantly stood up and followed him after repeatedly hearing its name being called and the gentle tugging of the leading rope latched to its nostrils.
It was late when the lad sleepily ate his cold supper. A quick bath…and he slumped onto a rough buri mat with a soft cotton pillow. His drowsy eyes gazed through the open bamboo window watching the twinkling stars.
Sounds of a soulful ballad sang by farmers celebrating the coming of the life-giving monsoon rains filled his ears and put him restfully asleep.
Small People: The Cemetery Keeper
By Regino L Gonzales, Jr.
(Narrative Story)
"even the dull and the ignorant;
they too have their story" (Max Ehrmann)
There was quite a commotion when two youngsters scampered away from their drinking table at a small store. One ran like being chased by a ghost and the other stumbled covering his face with his hands. Other smiling teenagers remained seated at their table slowly sipping red local wine. “What’s happening?” I asked one young drinker I recognized. “They are scared…Steve wanted to kiss them..", replied the guy laughing and pointed to Steve standing at the corner of the store holding a glass of wine offered to him by the drinkers.
Years before 1950s, the Philippines did not have adequate primary health services and private medical practitioners were few in places other than in big cities. Many communities suffered outbreaks of ailments which could have been prevented by vaccination. The dreaded smallpox struck Steve’s town of Danao afflicting many residents, Steve among them. He was in his teens when smallpox disfigured his face with pockmarks.
Steve’s real name was Esteban. Younger residents of the town addressed him as Steve while the older ones used his full name. Steve lived his teen years and many years of adulthood suffering from humiliation with his pockmarked face and a moniker in the vernacular which English equivalent is “Pockmarked Steve”. Peered closely, Steve’s face was like being punctured with craters similar to the moon’s surface. When in a group of friends and colleagues, Steve often became the butt of jokes and invented funny tales. There were remarks that Steve had a face that even a mother could not love and that his funny face could launch a thousand laughs. Steve’s distressing predicament made it difficult for him to seek and land any job, let alone find a mate. Notwithstanding, he lived a decent and colorful life. Behind his pockmarked face, he maintained a steely resolve to find himself a respectable slot in the social structure of the community.
Steve managed to get by decently by doing sundry jobs that had few takers, by doing voluntary services and by honestly adhering to his Christian faith. He dug latrines and graves and sold candles and coffins. Some voluntary tasks and services he rendered endeared him to many residents of the town. He was almost always one of the first to offer condolences and assistance to a bereaved family and was usually around during prayers and wakes for the departed. On stage presentations during social gatherings, he always volunteered and participated as a jester, capitalizing on his terribly pockmarked face. Steve’s religiosity was also very well known in the community and was even noted by the town’s catholic priest, Father Alcoseba. He seldom missed the Sunday mass and joining any religious procession around the town.
Undaunted by the playful taunts and jokes on his pockmarks, Steve learned a hilarious way to get back at his main tormentors, some of the town’s machos.
Danao's menfolk embraced an unspoken and unwritten code of conduct not to harm the old, the women, and men of inferior strength. A man who fights with a woman, an old person or one much younger than him was looked down upon for having feminine attributes. To the machos, Steve was just another harmless funny chap, game for mild taunting and jesting for laughs. Certain that he will not be harmed, Steve pondered long on how to dish it out with his persecutors.
It was on one occasion that Steve discovered a way. He came by a group of toughies drinking and sharing jokes with men and women friends. One started to jokingly comment on his pockmarked face drawing grins from his friends. Steve slowly approached the guy, swiftly gripped his shoulders and planted and rubbed his pockmarked face against the guy’s. The ladies giggled and the men roared with laughter as the guy struggled to get away from Steve’s grip. Steve repeated the prank at any opportunity. And men became cautious whenever he is around. Since then he received fewer and fewer taunts and jokes.
I and my friends met and talked with Steve few times and found him a very friendly and dignified person. He addressed us in the vernacular of ‘Lads’, in Danao, an expression of esteem for younger ones. He always inquired how far we were from finishing our studies.
Few years after graduation, I moved to work in Manila, which at that time is like moving from the Philippines to another country. When Grandmother Crispina, passed on, I came back to Danao for her funeral and encountered Steve again during Grandmother’s wake. “How are you Lad? How’s life?”, he inquired. I smiled and mumbled some greetings to him. When grandmother was interred, I saw Steve help lift and lower her coffin to the concrete tomb.
I went back home again to Danao when Aunt Margarita passed away. This time I noticed a small house near the cemetery with kids running around the yard and candles and flowers sold at the base of the house. Then I saw Steve came out. He shook my hands, muttered “How are you Lad”, offered condolences and went with me into my Aunt’s burial tomb. Unlike before, the cemetery was now very well kempt and trees overlook the tombs. I learned later that Father Alcoseba had earlier employed Steve to tend the catholic cemetery and that he found a loving a mate, built a small house on a lot fronting the cemetery and had children. Steve ultimately found his calling and succeeded in altering his humiliating moniker.
I left Danao confident that the serenity of my ancestors’ resting place was watched over by ‘Steve, the Cemetery Keeper’.
