The Manóbos of Mindanáo / Memoirs of the National Academy of Sciences, Volume XXIII, First Memoir

by John M. Garvan

The Manóbo feels that he is at perfect liberty to conceal his real thoughts and to give utterance to such distortions of truth as may not compromise him with others. The penalty for slander is so great that this is a fault that is seldom committed. Hence to get the truth from a Manóbo, it is useless, as a rule, to question him singly or even in the presence of his friends alone. He must be brought face to face with those who hold an adverse opinion or belong to an opposite faction. If this can be done, in a more formal way, as for example, by having a number of principal men attend, it will be so much the easier to obtain the desired information.

Queries as to trails or the dwelling places of neighboring Manóbos are hardly ever answered truthfully and do more harm than good, because they tend to arouse suspicions as to the questioner's motives. Such information is obtained more readily by cultivating the friendship of boys than by consulting the older folks. This tendency to disguise or to distort the truth, though it has its natural basis in a desire for self-protection, gives the Manóbos a reputation for lack of that straightforwardness and frankness that is so noticeable among the Mandáyas, even after very short acquaintance. This lack of frankness, coupled with a certain amount of natural shrewdness, makes the truth difficult to discover, unless the suggestion made before be carried out, or unless one is willing to wait till the truth leaks out in private conversation among the Manóbos themselves.

One trait of the Manóbo that seems hard to understand is his love for long discussions. No matter how trifling the matter may be, it always becomes the subject of an inordinately long conference even though there are no dissenting parties. Even in such trifles as getting a guide to take me, by well-known trails, to settlements of people with whom I was well acquainted, the inevitable discussion would always take place. A great number of people would assemble. The matter would be discussed at length by every one present without a single interruption, except such exclamations of assent as are continuously uttered whether the speaker's views are acceptable or not. It seems that these and more solemn discussions afford the speakers an opportunity to make themselves conspicuous or to display their judgment. I can divine no other reason for these conferences because, in many cases that I have known, the result of the discussion was a foregone conclusion from the beginning. Perhaps such discussions are for the purpose of "making no concessions" or if they must be made, of making them begrudgingly.

These conferences are as a rule rather noisy, for though one speaker at a time "has the floor," there are always a number of collateral discussions, that, joined to the invariable household sounds, produce somewhat of a din. Noise, in fact, is a general characteristic of Manóbo life, so much so that at times one is inclined to be alarmed at the loud yelling and other demonstrations of apparent excitement, even though the occasion for it all may be nothing more than the arrival in the settlement of a visitor with a dead monkey.

Harmony and domestic happiness are characteristic of the Manóbo family. The Manóbo is devoted to his wife, fond of his children, and attached to his relatives, more so than the Mañgguáñgan, but much less so than the Bisáya or the Mandáya. He is dearly fond of social gatherings for, besides the earthly comforts that he gets out of them, they afford him an opportunity to display such wealth, rank, and possessions as he may possess. His invitations to neighbors serve to keep him high in their estimation and thereby gather around him a number of friends who will be of service in the hour of trouble. Of the Manóbo, as of the other people of Mindanáo, too much can not be said of his hospitality. If he has once overcome his suspicions as to a stranger's motives, he takes him into his house and puts himself to infinite pains to feast him as best he knows how. In Manóboland one who travels carries no provisions. He drops into the first house and when the meal hour arrives he sits down upon the floor and helps himself without any invitation. It is practically his own house, because for the time being he becomes one of the family. If there happens to be a feast, he partakes without any special invitation, and when he is ready to go, he proceeds upon his journey, only to repeat the operation in the next house, for it is customary always to pay at least a short visit to every friendly house on or near the trail.

One of the mental traits that has perhaps done more than anything else to retard the Manóbo in his progress towards a higher plane of civilization is his firm adherence to traditional customs. All things must be done as his forefathers did them. Innovations of any kind may displease the deities, may disturb the present course of events, may produce future disturbances. "Let the river flow as it ever flowed--to the sea," is a refrain that I heard quoted on this subject by Manóbos. "Fish that live in the sea do not live in the mountains," is another, and there are many others, all illustrating that conservatism that tends to keep the Manóbo a Manóbo and nothing else. He is Christianized but, after going through the Christian ritual, he will probably invoke his pagan divinities. He takes on something new but does not relinquish the old. Hence the difficulty of inducing the Manóbo to leave the district of his forefathers, and take up his abode in a new place amid unfamiliar spirits.

This feature of their character explains the inconstancy and fickleness exhibited by the Christianized Manóbos at the beginning of their conversion. These were due to the call of the forest hailing them back to their old haunts. These characteristics will explain also a host of anomalies that are noticeable throughout the Manóbo's life.

The first visit of a stranger to a primitive settlement may produce upon him a very unfavorable impression. He may find that the women and children have fled, so that he finds himself surrounded by men, all armed. This should not discourage him, as it happens in many cases that the men were unable to keep the women from flight. The wearing of arms is as much a custom with Manóbos as the wearing of a watch is with us. The bolo is his life and his livelihood. Were he not to wear it he would be branded as insane, and he looks upon a defenseless person, stranger or otherwise, much in the same light, unless he attributes the absence of a weapon to the possession of secret powers of protection, in which case he is inclined to follow the example of the fugitive women and betake himself beyond the reach of harm.

Upon first acquaintance the Manóbo will ask a host of questions that will tax the patience of the visitor if he ventures to answer them personally. These questions spring from a desire to learn the motives of the visit. People from the neighboring houses drop in at intervals just as soon as word reaches them of the new arrival, and may continue to do so until the time of the visitor's departure, thereby keeping the house crowded. The assembling of these people arises from a desire to see the visitor and to find out the object of his visit. Hence the newcomers will proceed to ask him every imaginable question that may suggest itself and if any answer conveys information that has anything of the wonderful in it for them, it gives rise to a thousand and one other questions, the responses to which often tax a visitor's patience.

Another part of the visit is the frank demand on the part of the primitive people for any object of the visitor which they may take a fancy to. They always understand, however, a quiet refusal, if it is accompanied by an appropriate reason.