Lake Sebu, Philippines
Sept 15, 2026
A message from Ayumi beeped in to say there was a celebration in the T’boli community. Ayumi was going with Maria Todi and I was invited to come along. How lucky am I! Maria and Ayumi stopped by to pick me up and we jolted our way to the Santa Cruz Mission School in a tricycle. A combination of high school and college, they are celebrating their 65th anniversary. Shepherded in by Maria, we are treated as honored guests and introduced to the local dignitaries. I haven’t a hope of remembering any of the names but am touched by their warm welcome. Everyone is dressed to the hilt and the celebratory mood is infectious. Smiles and photos reign supreme.
The women wear sarongs, beautifully embroidered tops and beaded belts edged with bells. Combs drip beaded strands jostling earrings and necklaces. The men are no less resplendent in t’nalak waistcoats and sometimes embroidered jackets. All wear tightly bound headscarves.
The school children are dressed up too and crowd around in groups. Most are going to dance and excited banter forms a buzz; this is a big day for them.
The school is a two-story building built around an open courtyard where the festivities are taking place. The painted pillars, stage and the podium have bold patterns in the same palette of colors I have seen in Borneo. Many of the motifs are similar too. Maria tells me they are painted by students and in traditional colors and motifs. Among the throngs are a group of students glued to their phones. Another group studiously wears a look of boredom. The too-cool-for-school crowd is no different from their counterparts elsewhere around the globe, I chuckle to myself.
There is an urn with smoke wreathing up in the air. The dignitaries step up and each makes an offering. A woman sings a T’boli song, the long quavering notes hovering in the air. There is band on the other side of the stage with drummers, a flutist and a musician at set of gongs.
The long line of local dignitaries are called to the podium and each holds forth at length. Each successive speaker outdoes the previous as the speeches become longer, more flowery and expressed with greater zeal. Most of it is in English with smatterings of Tagalog. The downside of being an honored guest is soon apparent. We have been cordially seated close to the stage, right in front of the giant speakers which boom out loud enough to reach audiences many kilometers away. I doubt I will have eardrums left but we have a great view as dances begin.
The girls hold sarongs spread out between their hands and sway side to side, the movements slow and gentle. Sometimes they lean forward from the waist and slowly shuffle in a circle. Sometimes they have their hands out to the sides making graceful waving motions. The boys make short quick runs up and down that involve vigorous stamping. One dancer has a shield and a sword and leaps about more than any others.
Nor is it only the school children who dance. The local bigwigs are called upon to dance and they do so gracefully. First one, then another takes the stage, with much the same steps. It is a riot of color and music. What a wonderful end to my wanderings in the Philippines!
ITCHY FEET TRAVELS 