Feasting and Social Stratification
As in the prewar period, ritual expenses do not level class distinctions. Certainly wealth is redistributed during rituals, and the ability of the elites to accumulate is hampered by their continual ceremonial obligations. But couples of modest means must also celebrate, and although their expenses may be smaller, they often entail a greater proportion of their wealth than do the grand feasts of the baknangs. In prewar days the powerful sometimes took advantage of the financial plight of poorer celebrants to acquire their
lands, but this practice seems in abeyance at present, possibly because the Christian challenge has forced greater caution.
Several writers have recently argued that Benguet prestige feasts no longer effectively redistribute resources because the elite can avoid participating (Voss 1983:230; Russell 1983:239). In Buguias, at least, this is not true. None of the wealthy in Buguias is a Christian, and no well-off Pagan can shirk ritual obligations. Along the Mountain Trail, traditional observances are more lax; yet even there, social pressures as well as religious beliefs motivate most baknangs to continue celebrating ritual feasts. The expectations of reciprocity and of noblesse oblige—as mediated by the council of elders and by the mankotoms—remain at the center of what one resident called (in English) "our Buguias Paganism system."
Beyond a doubt, the pedit series has attenuated since the war, even in the traditionalist stronghold of Buguias. In earlier days, the richest continued escalating the scale of their feasts until they reached the level "twenty-five"; now, few surpass "nine," the point at which baknang status is conferred. Yet because of population increase, a modern pedit of "nine" may well entail the same expenditure as a prewar celebration of "twenty-five" (see map 9). In April, 1986, an Abatan couple performed "thirteen," feasting an estimated 5,000 persons at a total cost of some 300,000 pesos (U.S. $15,000)—an outlay unthinkable before the war. Nor do a wealthy couple's ritual responsibilities end with pedit. Memorial and other services for the dead also consume more money than they did previously. The most powerful individuals, those who aim for political careers, also find themselves burdened with numerous minor feasts, as well as with the expenses incurred as negotiators.
If prestige feasts fail to level wealth in Buguias today it is because the poor continue to celebrate beyond their means. Both worldly and spiritual rationales contribute; ritual performance is needed to secure the goodwill not only of the ancestors but of the wealthy Pagans as well. Russell (1983:238) is on track in arguing that ritual expenditure in Benguet may be "a way to increase bargaining power vis-à-vis the village elite through status enhancement," but in Buguias, this is often a matter less of enhancing than of merely maintaining one's position with kinspeople and co-villagers.
Nonelite celebrants sometimes find themselves in uncomfort-
able positions. In May of 1986, for example, a couple in desperate debt was convinced by relatives to perform a memorial ceremony (otong ) for the man's deceased mother combined with a lim-lima, or level "five," pedit. Although both spouses professed Christianity, they felt obligated to perform otong, having promised as much to the dying woman; they however wished to avoid the pedit, but they simply could not withstand the pressure. The husband was from a prominent family, and his relatives argued that backsliding could imperil the entire lineage. The feast thus thrust upon them worsened the couple's financial straits dramatically. Since they still had outstanding debts from previous ceremonies, few neighbors were willing to lend, and loans from relatives fell far short of the 60,000 pesos ($3,000) required. They managed to obtain the requisite sum a few days before the ceremony began, but throughout the proceedings their countenances reflected unrelieved gloom.
The wealthy give feasts in part to enhance their power and prestige. Having reached the level of "nine," a man can expect a position of honor at all public occasions, and can gain a powerful voice in tong tongan councils. Yet if such a man does not continue to meet community expectations, the elders will begin to prod, reminding him of his parents' and grandparents' actions, of the need to balance getting with giving, and of the dangers that lurk for those who ignore the dead. If a wealthy couple fails to legitimate their wealth, people will insult both husband and wife behind their backs, and some may move business dealings to competing elites.
In a recent example, a very wealthy couple living on the Mountain Trail had performed only "seven," and this many years previously. Such stinginess, combined with a reputation for unsavory business dealings, cost the family much of its respect. In 1986, a health problem prompted the husband to seek guidance, and when the elders advised pedit—at a level several jumps ahead of their prior celebration—the couple agreed. Once they completed the ritual, negative feelings began quickly to evaporate.
Feast observations are necessary to legitimate wealth, but they are not always sufficient. Individuals who come into wealth quickly face special problems; they may be dismissed as having merely discovered hidden treasure (a fragment of Yamashita's legendary hoard perhaps), or even condemned for having exploited the poor. Here ritual expenditures are but the first step; the nouveaux riches must
also take on the social responsibilities of wealth. Foremost among these is lending money to poorer villagers who wish to observe their own feasts. This too could potentially act as a hidden form of redistribution, if the capital involved could be more profitably invested elsewhere. But the structure of debt relations ensures that in the long run it is the elite who benefit.