When I was young, I used to spend my
summer vacations in Pangasinan, my mother’s birthplace, where I learned that
the first rain of May, when caught and poured half full in a clear glass bottle
(Tanduay lapad the preferred receptacle)
will tell whether it would rain or not during the day, for the rest of the
year, depending on the moisture that accumulates inside the bottle; that blowing
air on the sides of a fish before frying it on steaming oil will prevent the
hot oil from spraying searing liquid all over the pan and on someone’s skin,
and; that the sap of a small plant when dropped on flesh splintered by tiny
wood chips would magically force the wood out of the painful puncture.
These are only some of the amazing and
highly effective local knowledge that I learned and experienced but have never
read in any science book, nor encountered in any classroom or scientific
discourse. Western science, which is
what is promoted in school, will be quick to dismiss such practices as outdated,
or worse, a backward exercise that should have no place in a modern,
science-based world.
That traditional practices are not
found in any science book nor are explained by lab-based experiments does not
mean that they are unscientific and, thus, worthless as western science would
like us to believe; they are simply the Filipino’s common sense-based approach
to everyday problems culled from keen observation leading to creative
solutions. Stopping short of romanticizing practice of
local knowledge, Filipinos, especially those who are exposed more and more
everyday to western technology and, consequently, way of life and thinking,
should be wary about relegating traditional knowhow into the backburner,
archiving them as if they no longer have use in the modern world.
In Paul Pertierra’s essay Is there a
Culture of Science in the Philippines, he describes science as “an ultimate
cultural value and its practice as an example of the pursuit of cognitive
excellence (Pertierra, 2003) .” Given the fact that a sizeable number
Filipinos, especially those residing in the countryside and outside of urban
locales where the seats of education and, therefore, science are, still
practice and apply local knowledge in many of their daily activities from
cooking food, to healing the body and even raising children, does it mean then that
Filipinos who feel comfort and a measure of the familiar in such practices do
not care about pursuing cognitive excellence?
This is rather an unfair indictment on a people’s practice that has
worked for generations, centuries even, and an affront to the intelligence of
the elders from long ago that labored tirelessly, perhaps over a period of
several years, to understand how the world works and how to control it, which
uncannily reflects how Pertierra characterizes what culture of science is all
about – a culture of science consists of principles and practices whose aims
are to explore the natural world in order to bring it under human control.
While I understand that modern
science brings empirical evidences of its potency and can and will play a
relevant role in the improvement of many Filipino’s lives, can’t there be a
happy compromise where science benefits the people without victimizing, marginalizing
and rendering cultures and traditions inutile?
This all or nothing stance by some scientists devalues the richness of
our nation’s culture.
Pertierra’s essay further questions the
seeming lack of traction of Filipinos toward modern science, and a culture of
science in general, which underscores some scientists’ seeming disregard and
lack of appreciation for cultural and traditional values: “Why is this competence given little social
or cultural value? Is this because scientific knowledge depends on objective
and impersonal criteria rather than on the personalized networks Filipinos
normally use for success? Is the lack of a scientific orientation partly
cultural?”
Curiously, the fact that these questions were
posed is a clear indication that scientists have a firm grasp of the Filipino’s
psyche which they, in their determined pursuit to homogenize local science with
the rest of the western world, are trying to demystify and, to a great extent,
demolish to the point of negligibility. This attitude is not only rampant in
academic circles but can also be observed even in mainstream media where big
businesses backed by western science continue its battle to suppress local
knowledge. Over the last few years, traditional
medicines including an assortment of polstices and concoctions have been
finding currency and a measure of success in the mainstream. An example is the Lagundi leaves via the
ASCOF Lagundi product, which is claimed to be highly effective in treating
coughs and colds and, apparently, in also making headways into the bottomlines
of multinationals offering western medicines.
Solmux, a western formula, with the help of local
superstar-of-the-masses endorser Vic Sotto exhorts the potency of its formula,
with Sotto retorting “Kaya ba yan ng
padahon-dahon lang?” referring to the simplicity (read: unsophisticated) of
formulation of the lagundi product.
On a more positive note, certain quarters in
the scientific community are looking toward traditional medicines in their
quest to find remedies for difficult to cure diseases. In fact, some are looking into the
traditional medicinal practices of tribes living deep in the Amazon jungles of
Brazil who, apart from the occasional forays of scientists and anthropologists into
their realm, have had basically no contact with the western world. These scientists believe that the most
effective medicines for many of today’s lifestyle diseases, including cancer
and even AIDS can be found in the jungles, and some of these are already being
used by indigenous, supposedly unlearned and unscientific, peoples. Closer to home, local doctors and scientists from
UP-PGH are conducting experiments on traditional medicines like the Tawa-tawa and even Papaya leaves as
treatment for dengue, a deadly virus.
It’s true that science only deals with facts
– cold and unemotional facts that are the currency of intellectual and
scientific pursuits. However, scientists
need not be cold and unemotional like the variables that they regularly deal
with. They must also be culturally-sensitive
and open-minded to the truth that not all that is effective and beneficial is
proven in a western-style laboratory, and that there is much more to science
and living in particular than the hows and whys. There must be a healthy margin for acceptance
regardless of the questions asked. It is
about being human, and acknowledging that some things need no explanations.
When my father was in the hospital for Stage
4 cancer that has metastasized to various areas of his chest, causing him
intense, excruciating pain, my immediate recourse was to do something that I
have learned from my childhood to be effective in easing pain and bringing
comfort to the soul – the puyok larak
in Pangasinanse, or pahid ng langis ng
niyog to the Tagalogs. So while I
was massaging my father’s body with larak,
my father’s physician, a Filipino-Chinese lady doctor whose idea of pain-relief
was injecting morphine, came in, saw what I was doing and smelled the burnt
aroma of the coconut oil, which prompted her to stoically admonish me: Wala naman magagawa yang langis na ‘yan, eh.
She doesn’t know. Western science has made her forget.
This is part of a series of essays for my Educational Anthropology class under Dr. Eufracio Abaya.
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