Pakighimamat: With the cry of the Earth and the cry of the poor
By: Pedro Arrupe
Tags: Philippines, Indigenous Rights, Earth Day, Environment, Social Justice

Journeying with the included

Bajaus belonged to those in the margins or what we call as ‘poor’ based on their socio-economic status, culture, and existing societal stigma. They are excluded and marginalized. Ask someone if they have seen a Bajau, they will say: “Ah katong gapanglimos sa kalsada? tung baho? tung tig-sisid sa dagat pag naay ilabay na piso?” but we don’t often hear them say “Ah, katong gapaningkamot manginabuhi? Mangingisda? Ga-baligya og ukay-ukay? Katong nakahuman og college? Katong naay pagtuo sa Ginoo?”

How beautiful would it be if thoughts would be more of that?

After that intimate three months, I decided to continue journeying with them. From a pure desire to be a volunteer teacher, it grew into a desire to journey with them. May it be co-learning with them about our ocean, listening to their plights, hopes, and dreams, and representing them in ways I can. I even spent seven days of immersion within the community and had a foster family who allowed me to eat, drink, think, feel, and act with them, and be naked with the truth about them.

In the process of being with them, it was a bitter-sweet taste of reality. I realized how Bajaus, as sea gypsies and indigenous peoples, in general, has this intimate relationship with our environment. Bajaus had their houses built on stilts when they initially settled in coastal areas of Sulu. They also had their method of “spearfishing.” Because of their skills in freediving, it developed their spleen larger than the normal. They have dances and cultural traditions embedded in the rhythm of the sea, fish, and the beauty of our waters.

Yet today, they struggle to continue these practices. There are no fish left for them due to pollution and overfishing. Kuya Edjie said in a conservation (non-verbatim) “Di nami kapanagat karon kay gamay na kaayo ang isda sa dagat kompara sa una og daghan pud kayo mi ka-kompetensya.” And worse, last August 2019, hanging habagat destroyed some houses nearby the coast.

They are highly vulnerable to the effects of climate change, such as sea-level rise and disaster-related incidents (tsunamis and typhoons). This vulnerability is due to their settlements nearby coastal lines. Children and youth are no longer into fishing carried by modernization and lack of cultural identity. Furthermore, the development for more infrastructures (by the “Build. Build. Build” project of the government) created a coastal road that displaces many Bajau families. All these struggles are both caused by environmental and social degradation.

Listening to them in our conversations disturbed my heart. Their struggles represented their cries in suffering from these unfortunate circumstances. As Pope Francis emphasized in his encyclical Laudato Si: On caring for our common home, the word ‘poor’ cited 61 times and the ‘Earth’ 69 times. This citation means how Pope Francis emphasizes that these two go hand in hand. Human Environment and Natural Environment deteriorate together; we cannot adequately combat environmental degradation unless we attend to causes related to human and social degradation (LS 48).

For Bajaus and indigenous peoples, they are our principal dialogue partners. Their voices, too, matter and must be included when we dialogue and plan about development. That’s our hope for them that we don’t just say Walking with the excluded. Instead of thinking of what might be good for them, we dream that one day we will Journey with the included. Now, how do we envision a future for our typical home that is inclusive and adaptive?