Also this morning at the bed next to us the ward was new patient – a very old man. They said he was 110 years old! His sons were attending to him. All 3 of them impressed me as very nice, with good manners, and well educated. Then all of a sudden one of them turned to me and started speaking in fluent Palawano! Totally unexpected – why would any educated Filipino take the time to learn Palawano, the language of the native people, especially since knowing that language doesn’t help anyone further their business or anything like that!
Well, it turned out that they were from one of the neighboring people groups that live down river referred to as “Keislaman” by the mountain people. These are people who had common ancestors with the Palawanos, but they broke away when they became Muslim. Now, many of them are educated, but they speak the same language as the Palawanos in their homes.
According to Palawano legend, they separated back in the days of the ancestors when an old man came down from the hills to visit a young man and his wife, who had just prepared dark sticky rice to eat. According to custom, they fed the old man and visited for some time before he left. When he left, he travelled by a path where the young man had set his pig traps. A few hours after the old man left, the young man went out to check his pig traps, and he had caught a pig in one of his traps. So he brought the pig home, where he and his wife butchered it and ate the initial cut of meat. After eating, they argued about who would take the remains of the pig down to the creek to clean out the intestines (which they would have use for later). The wife won the argument and took the remains down to the creek. When she was cleaning out the intestines, she noticed their contents – dark sticky rice! So she realized that this pig was actually the man who had visited them that morning, and he had turned into a pig and been killed in the pig trap. She got violently ill and threw up, but managed to make it home. She told her husband she could never eat pig again because of what happened, but the husband didn’t agree with that idea, so they separated. She went down to the ocean and re-married, while he went up to the hills and got remarried. Her descendants became the “Keislaman” and his descendants became the Palawano. According to the legend, that is why the Muslims don’t eat pork, but they speak the same language as the Palawano.
I was able to share this Palawano legend with our neighbors in the ward, but I have not confirmed if they share the same story in their culture. They acted a bit surprised at the story, so I have a feeling they might not have heard it before.
Saturday, July 9, 2011
Ama, mulit ne!
“Ama! Mulit ne!”
Over the last week, I have heard this phrase over and over again. It means, “Dad, I want to go home.” I am in Puerto Princesa right now with Burut, a 7 year old Palawano kid that we brought to the hospital. They showed up at our place over a week ago, and the child was swollen up like a marshmallow. Our medical team members were pretty sure the problem was kidney disease, but in our place there is nothing we can do about that. So we gave them some money in order to take a bus to the hospital in town. The next day another man came by our house with a message from the doctor at the hospital. They said they were pretty sure it was kidney disease, but they did not have the facilities to test to find out the extent of the disease. So we needed to send him to Puerto Princesa.
I was on top of the mountain about 5 hours up river when they called me in the morning to tell me I needed to take the kid to the hospital. My son and I were doing an overnight hike up there (more about that later). We were planning to stay 1 more night, but the medical emergency pre-empted our trip and so we came home that day. The next day I went to Quezon and met the kid with his dad, and together we proceeded to the hospital in Puerto Princesa. That was last Saturday, and we are still here a week later. The prognosis looks good for a release this weekend or early in the week. However, the young boy still has to wait.
It has been hard on the family for multiple reasons. First of all, they have not had any contact with their family that they left up in the mountains, so they are probably wondering what has happened. Secondly, the hospital is not an ideal place for people that are used to living in a free and open place, where they get up in the morning or at night and can look out to see as far as the eye can see. Also, they were embarrassed to bathe and/or use the restroom at first, but eventually they got over that and had to use it.
On the good side, the other Filipinos that are in the hospital have been very nice to the patients. We are in a ward with 5 beds, and all the families of the other people there have been very courteous and pleasant towards the dad and his kid. They have not made them feel embarrassed at all about being “natibos”, but instead have included them in discussions and talks, making them feel welcome.
So with regard to this, we ask for your prayers for little Burut’s completed healing! As of this morning, his swelling had been reduced significantly, and if the urine tests in the morning show the disease to be in remission, then he will be allowed to leave the hospital.
Over the last week, I have heard this phrase over and over again. It means, “Dad, I want to go home.” I am in Puerto Princesa right now with Burut, a 7 year old Palawano kid that we brought to the hospital. They showed up at our place over a week ago, and the child was swollen up like a marshmallow. Our medical team members were pretty sure the problem was kidney disease, but in our place there is nothing we can do about that. So we gave them some money in order to take a bus to the hospital in town. The next day another man came by our house with a message from the doctor at the hospital. They said they were pretty sure it was kidney disease, but they did not have the facilities to test to find out the extent of the disease. So we needed to send him to Puerto Princesa.
I was on top of the mountain about 5 hours up river when they called me in the morning to tell me I needed to take the kid to the hospital. My son and I were doing an overnight hike up there (more about that later). We were planning to stay 1 more night, but the medical emergency pre-empted our trip and so we came home that day. The next day I went to Quezon and met the kid with his dad, and together we proceeded to the hospital in Puerto Princesa. That was last Saturday, and we are still here a week later. The prognosis looks good for a release this weekend or early in the week. However, the young boy still has to wait.
It has been hard on the family for multiple reasons. First of all, they have not had any contact with their family that they left up in the mountains, so they are probably wondering what has happened. Secondly, the hospital is not an ideal place for people that are used to living in a free and open place, where they get up in the morning or at night and can look out to see as far as the eye can see. Also, they were embarrassed to bathe and/or use the restroom at first, but eventually they got over that and had to use it.
On the good side, the other Filipinos that are in the hospital have been very nice to the patients. We are in a ward with 5 beds, and all the families of the other people there have been very courteous and pleasant towards the dad and his kid. They have not made them feel embarrassed at all about being “natibos”, but instead have included them in discussions and talks, making them feel welcome.
So with regard to this, we ask for your prayers for little Burut’s completed healing! As of this morning, his swelling had been reduced significantly, and if the urine tests in the morning show the disease to be in remission, then he will be allowed to leave the hospital.
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