Asking people what they want to learn more about allows me to assess the needs of those who look to me as a source of cultural information. But it also pressures me into deliver timely and accurate information, even on topics that go beyond my natural interests. In particular, I’m often asked to talk more about precolonial society, queerness, and traditional healing.1
Precolonial Society
I don’t work with historical relics and sites, nor do I study pre-Spanish societies across the archipelago. I trust other social scientists to do this, so that I can focus on studying the folk psychology of the modern Filipino. So when someone asks me about the specifics of precolonial society, such as their economic systems, social structures, and politics, I’ll have to point them to the writings of William Henry Scott and Ambeth Ocampo.
Queerness
Honesty, whenever I’m asked about precolonial queerness, I can already sense that the person asking is looking for a specific answer. In any case, this is already a loaded topic, because the modern way we understand the word “queer” may not have resonated with our ancestors.2 Gender (and the politics surrounding it) is more complex than we want it to be. For more information, I have already written an article about indigenous perspectives on gender for Pride Month 2023, but please take note that this is based on very limited information.
Traditional Healing
I know that there are some people who ask about precolonial or Indigenous healing just to look for an “exotic” practice, with the assumption that today’s Filipino has lost their connection with spirits. Modern Filipino spirituality doesn’t discriminate between sources of power. We know just enough from various traditions to be able to apply them in our daily lives. Of course I encourage the documentation and preservation of Indigenous practice. But if, in one’s journey, they are truly called to train with local shamans, I hope they honor sacred traditions. I hope they don’t eventually offer “shamanic services” at a ridiculous price, claiming that they were trained in the distant jungles of the Philippines. In truth, many folk healers don’t even charge for their services, relying instead on donations, because they believe spiritual gifts should never be sold. For practical tips for mystical seekers, visit this article.
Embracing Realities
I think it’s beautiful that many people want to reconnect with ancestral ways. I encourage this wholeheartedly. But I have to question those who come into this with foreign notions of what should and shouldn’t be, especially if they don’t even live the culture. What they have to say may be incredibly relevant for their society, but they have no right imposing it onto others. Personally, although I was born and raised and living in the Philippines, I have had to unlearn much of my western-style training—this doesn’t mean discarding them totally, but rather revalidating them based on my own lived experience and the realities of the people around me.
I’m aware that these topics are inextricably tied to moral positions, all of which genuinely work towards personal and collective liberation. But strict moral positions echo the norms and worldviews of a particular culture—which may be understood differently elsewhere. We must resist projecting onto our ancestors vague solutions to our modern-day issues, regardless of our good intentions. We must also resist the idea that Filipino culture is totally damaged by our colonial history—this follows the idea that time is linear and causal. Those who live the culture know that we borrow freely from foreign influences, but we always come from within. The pilosopo does not understand these intuitive, nuanced, and holistic realities; rather, they insist on absolutes. “Pilosopo” is a word that comes from “philosopher,” but it is not a compliment. We say this to people who are dense, who don’t know how to feel or put things into context. We must confront reality as it is, not as we want it to be. That way, our indigenization is not only meaningful but also relevant.
My Approach
Often, we think of experts as the final authority on certain topics. If they’re unable or unwilling to answer something, we think that they weren’t knowledgeable in the first place. Rather than thinking of it in terms of limitation, let’s think of it in terms of scope. Experts are the people we ask directions from, when we’re lost in a certain place. They can also point you to the next town, but if you ask them about another place, they might just shrug their shoulders. The scope of my own work is this: I take a practical look into modern Filipino folk psychology and indigenized spirituality, placing them in social and historical context. If you join me, we can participate in the great dance of cosmic ideas.
Watch recordings of older lectures and attend upcoming ones:
Read more about what my work is and isn’t about in this article: What I Am Not.
We do know that our shamans, who were sometimes men, dressed flamboyantly and were indistinguishable from women, and had relations with other men (Boxer Codex). But a fellow scholar reminded me recently that this was a unique occurrence—in other words, this kind of thing wasn’t recorded frequently.