4
Religion:
The Role of the Ancestors

Introduction

The people of prewar Buguias believed that their lives were continually touched by a host of gods and spirits, both benign and malevolent. The most influential of such beings were the souls of their ancestors. These amed involved themselves in virtually all Buguias activities, dispensing luck on their descendants according to the care they received from the living. And they were demanding; lonely for human companionship and hungry for the spiritual essences of earthly things, the amed called for repeated celebration. To placate them, the living were obligated periodically to invite the dead back to earth where they could be honored through feast and dance. The rituals in which this took place formed the focus of communal life, and the climax of most economic endeavors.

Human power relations were inseparable from religious activities. The more wealth a couple possessed, the more they had to dispense in ritual. Yet by adhering to these expectations, the elite found twofold advantage within the system: their earthly prestige was legitimated and enhanced, and their spiritual futures were blessed. True, their wealth was diminished by such expenditures in the short run, but the commoners too had exacting ancestors. With commoners borrowing heavily from the wealthy to carry out their own smaller sacrifices, the baknang class was able to gather in with one hand what it had distributed with the other.

Even outside of ritual context, the supernatural pervaded day-to-day life. Omens called for careful readings, while nonancestral spirits demanded watchfulness, for they could wreak great mischief if not properly propitiated. Accidents, illnesses, and mental disturbances could all originate with supernatural agents, and thus call for sacrifice.

Gods and Spirits

The Buguias Pantheon

Religious ideology was open to personal exegesis. While the Buguias people generally shared the complex Cordilleran hierarchies and genealogies of heavenly, earthbound, and underworld deities and spirits, their interpretations seem to have been heterodox. At least in the modern period, even the relationship between the two chief gods, Kabigat and his brother Balitok, and the secondary members of the pantheon, such as Wigan and Bangan, are uncertain. To some, Bangan and Kabigat are siblings, to others, husband and wife.^[1] Above all reigns Kabunian, but again the nature of this ultimate godhead, as well as his connections with the more active heavenly beings, was fluid (see W. H. Scott 19360 [1969]). In one perhaps idiosyncratic conception, all deities are said to occupy dual incarnations: a primary being that remains in the sky-world, and a secondary shadow—intermediary to humankind—dwelling underground.

Gods were considered generally benevolent, and they received numerous petitions for succor. Each deity had his or her specialty. Balitok, for example, offered help in the curing of wounds. To invoke a god's intervention, a priest, or manbunung , had to recite the correct prayers and direct the proper offerings. Chickens were commonly sacrificed; after the gods had feasted on the spiritual essences, the participants consumed the flesh.

Spirits: Dangerous, Neutral, and Helpful

Buguias residents had to be wary of a variety of dangerous spirits. Imbag Bagisan, the underworld god of the hunt, provoked great fear. Accompanied by gruesome dogs, he prowled the earth, sating his hunger with human souls. Except on those occasions when his wife intervened on the victim's behalf, he could only be appeased with two chickens, a pig, or a dog. A variety of usually malicious spirits, generally called anitos , were capable of causing similar harm. The mante-es-bilig , denizens of thickets, caused lingering sickness, curable only through the sacrifice of a female chicken.

The sky-dwelling mante-ed-tongdo wielded potent curses that might require the offer of a water buffalo. The bet-tattew , visible as flickering evening lights, could carry away unwary human souls. More dangerous still were the te-tets , ghostly vampires that sucked life directly from the heart; little could be done to save their victims.

More commonly encountered were timungao , beings who could be either benign or vicious, depending on their individual temperaments. Timungao generally dwelled near boulders in clear-running streams, and as a rule they distanced themselves from raucous human activities. Their society closely paralleled that of humans; they were born, grew up, married, bore children, aged, and accumulated property. Usually invisible to human beings, they commonly appeared only in dreams. Occasionally a female timungao would deign to wed a man during such an encounter. The bewitched groom might then abandon the human world, unless he were divorced, at some expense, from his nocturnal companion.

But for the most part, timungao were disgusted by human dirt, noise, and dietary habits. People disturbed them by trespassing in their clear streams, by fighting among themselves, and particularly by killing and eating their pet frogs (distinguishable by their unusual number of toes). As the timungao's revenge could be deadly, one had to be careful to eat only frogs with the normal configuration of digits. Timungao were also known to harm disrespectful trespassers, although most would tolerate a person who called out and apologized beforehand. Sometimes a timungao would intervene in strictly human affairs, dispensing swift punishment on those guilty of deceiving others. Illness usually befell the delinquent party, although a mischievous timungao might be satisfied simply by urinating on the miserable offender. A good-natured sprite could even bring fortune to a deserving human, but in general these ubiquitous beings required continual appeasing since humans could not help but disturb them.

More influential than either gods or nature spirits were the souls of the dead. They usually helped the living, but they too required continual homage. By the late American period, ancestor worship formed the core of local religion, although it is not at all clear whether this was true in earlier times.

The souls of individuals who died horrible or premature deaths could become malicious in their unhappiness. The spirits of the

drowned (nagalnad ) tried to assuage their loneliness by drowning others. More dangerous were the awil , souls of those who had died particularly violent deaths. The awil of nineteenth-century Spanish soldiers killed in the vicinity caused untold harm in their never-ending quest for revenge.

To avert trouble, a person had to be on constant watch for signs from the spirits. Negative travel omens, such as the crossing of one's path by an unliked or rare animal, delayed many journeys. Even an impropitiously timed sneeze or an oddly behaving dog could ruin a business transaction. Neither did nightmares bode well, as all dreams were considered serious messages from the other realm. On waking, one would hope that by cleansing in clear water the vision could be washed away. If truly impressed, however, the dreamer would seek expert counsel, hoping that what seemed a fright was actually an encoded charm.

Spiritual Curing, Prevention of Harm, and Blessings

The person most often consulted in such cases was a female spirit medium (mansib-ok ). Mediums differed in their diagnostic methods, but most would dangle a bit of iron near the afflicted person's face, and by observing the metal's movement discern the supernatural agent and then recommend the appropriate ceremony (see Sacla 1987). The few male practitioners usually divined by scrutinizing patterns in the dregs of a cup of rice beer.

Having diagnosed her client, the medium would usually refer the individual to a priest (manbunung). Only a priest could perform the requisite sacrifice and chant the correct prayer to the responsible entity. Every supernaturally induced affliction required a different ceremony; one current-day manbunung has recorded the procedures of fifty-nine separate rituals.

Other rituals functioned to secure general blessings from benevolent nonhuman agents. Laymen chanted many simple prayers in the course of daily activities. Drinking sessions formed the most common occasions; before imbibing any alcohol, a person would toss a small amount to the ground, giving its vapors to the gods and ancestors, who would then be beseeched for general assistance. Rituals to secure good harvests, however, were few. Most

were concerned with rice culture; the all-important sweet potato was essentially ignored in ritual life.

Not all supernatural signs were negative. An oddly behaving animal, or especially the presence of a specific animal at a specific place and time (sangbo ), could presage good fortune. A dream too could bode well, depending, of course, on the medium's reading. The ancestors would also convey requests through specific signals. A deceased grandfather, for example, might appear in a dream requesting blankets. The dutiful grandchild would then accord him honor in a blanket-bestowing ritual. Major ceremonies for the ancestors, however, were not usually initiated through such specific requests. Most occurred at intervals dictated largely by the life-stage and social position of the celebrant. Such prestige feasts (pedit ) formed the heart of religious belief and practice. Before analyzing them, however, it is necessary to link the religious beliefs discussed above with the environmental patterns outlined in chapter 2.

Religion and the Landscape

The relationship between community and environment in prewar Buguias was shaped by religious ideology and practices. Rituals guided economic endeavors and social relations, which in turn structured the subsistence activities that transformed the landscape. The supernatural also touched the land directly, as a number of spiritual beings were believed to inhabit specific places where they could influence human activities.

Ritual requirements molded the very dietary basis of subsistence in prewar Buguias. It was, in part, the ancestors' hunger that motivated their descendants to raise hogs. The living, of course, received quality food as their part of the bargain, and materialist scholars (such as Harris 1979) would regard their religious justification as merely a rationale or cultural epiphenomenon. Certainly most humans do crave meat and fat regardless of their forebears' demands. But in settled agricultural areas, meat production entails effort, and different individuals and cultural groups exhibit varying degrees of enthusiasm about exerting the labor needed to produce extra increments of animal flesh. The people of Buguias could have thrived on less meat; their neighbors, the Bontocs and Ifugaos, did

so without much ill effect. But the Buguias villagers, motivated in part by their beliefs, produced a surfeit of meat. As hogs and people ate the same laboriously cultivated sweet potatoes, dry fields had to produce tubers well in excess of minimal subsistence requirements (see Brookfield [1972] for a discussion of "ritual intensification").

Much the same could be argued for pond-field agriculture. Rice, even though usually fermented, did provide quality nutrition, and since rice terraces produced abundantly, their construction might well have been justified without a ritual rationale. But rituals required great quantities of rice beer—the ancestors demanded as much. Beer could be brewed from millet or corn, but the resulting product was considered contemptible. Prestige, wrapped in religion, played an inescapable role; no baknang couple could claim respect unless they were generous with alcohol made from rice.

The spirit realm also reflected directly on the landscape, albeit in relatively minor ways. Buguias religion was focused on a sky-world that touched the earth more at sanctified times than in sacred places. And while consumption in ritual feasts could be a holy experience, production was generally rather mundane. A few meager rituals blessed the rice fields, but other crops were ignored. It was rather through the timungao and other nature spirits that the supernatural directly impinged upon the landscape.

Each of the many timungao dwelled in its own specific abode. Such places were separated from human life not because they were sacred but rather because they were dangerous. If a man tried to cut a sprite's tree, his hand could be severely and immediately "deformed." Buguias residents usually left untouched the large trees and brushy thickets known to harbor timungao. Several potential irrigation sources remained untapped, as timungao were especially vexed when their waters were muddied. But ultimately, even the timungaos' favored havens were vulnerable if any one individual was willing, and able, to offer the necessary propitiation. Here too, class had its way.

The distribution of timungao may also have shaped conceptions of the community's territory. In one specific prayer, a manbunung had to ask forbearance of every timungao inhabiting Buguias and surrounding locales. These beings were not known by personal names, but rather by their locations of residence, and if any dwell-

ing sites were ignored in this petition, bad luck could ensue. This perhaps helped create and sustain Buguias's extremely intricate system of toponyms, in which even inconsequential sections of uninhabited slope are individually named.^[2]

Prestige Feasts in Prewar Buguias

The Wedding Ceremony

A couple's ritual career would begin with their wedding ceremony. A respectable groom had to furnish at least one buffalo and several pigs. In an arranged marriage, butcherings could begin with the betrothal of infants, but this practice was uncommon even among the elite. Most engagements proceeded slowly, through the office of a go-between (usually a male elder), and each step of the deliberations required its own rituals.

Marriage conferred ritual independence, although some couples continued to reside for a time in a parental home (usually the wife's). Children were expected to follow soon, but not before the newlyweds had given a second offering to the ancestors. This ceremony (sabang ) formed the first step in a graded series of prestige feasts called pedit (referred to earlier), but it was the only one incumbent on all couples. As in other prestige feasts, its ostensive purpose was to invite the ancestors to dance and eat with their living descendants. Specific to this rite, however, was the asking of favor for the young couple's progeny.

Graded Prestige Feasts: The Pedit

While all households performed many minor curative or preventive rituals, roughly one-fourth of prewar Buguias couples did not progress beyond sabang in the prestige-feast ladder. The rest moved on to tol-tolo , the first real step of the pedit series, and all respected members eventually progressed to lim-lima (lima , or five, refers to the number of pigs sacrificed on the second day). The following several pages describe a typical pedit ceremony, using the lim-lima as an example.

As with other stages, butchering would begin during an organizational meeting held several days before the actual observance.

Here the celebrants, ritual experts, and elders would immolate a single pig while they planned the celebration's logistics. On the first day of the ceremony proper the ancestors and some of the living guests arrived to be feted with two pigs of either sex.

The following day marked the essential sacrifices of otik ("swine with tusks"). The guests, representing several villages, assembled at dawn, when five ritual hogs, four males and one female, were released in a sanctified enclosure. Young men then scrambled to catch and tie down the boars, avoiding the sow for the time being. They then lashed the boars together in a line; the connecting rope allowed the ancestors to lead the spirits of the animals to the after-world. After prayer and ritual, four high-status men drove sharpened stakes into the pigs' hearts. The screams of the dying beasts pleased the ancestors, while their blood gushing to the ground foretold fertility.

After the hogs expired, the manbunung would burn blood-soaked taro slices and rice stalks on their backs, bringing prosperity to the celebrants' household. The animals were then butchered, with their livers and gall bladders carefully exposed so that the manbunung and other experts could read them as oracles. The carcasses were then singed, scraped, dismembered, and boiled. After this, members of the "meat committee" would distribute the flesh, making sure that elite (and the ancestors) were first honored with the best portions. All guests were also given raw meat to carry home. To fill the enormous appetite of the gathering, the celebrants might have to slaughter water buffalo and sometimes even cattle in a purely secular context off to the side of the main proceedings.

Once the sacrifices were completed, attention turned to dance. A man and a woman invariably danced as a pair, while brass gongs, iron bars, and wooden drums maintained the rhythm. The performers would alternate between several different dance styles, each associated with a particular geographic region. The celebrating couple danced first, followed by the village elite, with each dancer performing in the stead of a specific ancestor. All dances were punctuated by the manbunung's blessings. Eventually the roster of the ancestors would be completed, and the dance opened to the wider community. At this point even the young participated, often reveling through the night. The mood was now one of pure festivity, the participants well lubricated with rice beer. One of the

first Europeans to visit Buguias, the German traveler Carl Semper, must have arrived at such a time, for he wrote, "When I arrived in Buguias the people had been drinking . . . for five days and nights, and the general drunkenness lasted during my three day stay" (1862 [1975]: 29).

After the second day most guests returned home; only the immediate family, the village elders, the ritualists, and the ancestors remained. On the third day the elders would sacrifice another hog and possibly a water buffalo, and the fourth day marked a simple "party" for the ancestors. On the fifth day, ritual specialists would clean and bind together the heads of the ritual pigs, then slaughter a new pair of swine, male and female. The following day was uneventful, but the seventh day again required a pair of hogs as the remaining guests prepared for the departure of the ancestors. This signified the formal conclusion, even though on the following evening the celebrants' close relatives often performed their own subsidiary rites. The celebrating couple might also observe a last single-hog ritual to "dam up" the good luck bestowed by the ancestors.

The celebrating couple bore the feast's financial brunt, but some of the other participants also contributed. Close relatives had their own secondary rituals, and both relatives and neighbors always prepared rice beer used to entertain guests during the initial gathering. Throughout the festivities, a markedly communal character remained.

During the feast's public events, the ancestors were entertained, provisioned, and beseeched. But within the house, the celebrants and ritual experts strove for more intimate communication, chanting and singing to the ancestors well into the night. Some of their intonations were simple requests; others were ritual utterings meaningless in ordinary speech. During these occasions the spirits could possess certain women; through these media the ancestors prophesied and demanded additional favors, often requesting that another specific couple also celebrate a major feast. Such a woman might remain in a trance, alternating between anger, sorrow, and elation, for hours. Occasionally a man would be entranced, but most participants would regard such an event with skepticism, wondering openly whether he were only drunk.

Few couples progressed beyond the lim-lima pedit, but those with social pretentions were obligated to continue up the prestige

ladder. A given pedit ceremony was ranked by the number of hogs chased on the second day; at each successive rung the number increased by two, the scale thus ascending in odd numbers.^[3] The essential observations remained the same, but the number of villages invited and the number of animals butchered increased markedly with each step. Cattle especially were slaughtered in large numbers, as the take-home meat requirements escalated faster than did the sacrificial obligations. Swine killings roughly matched those of the lim-lima for the first seven days, but they continued for a longer period of time, determined ultimately by the advice of the ritual experts. Seventeen days was typical for a "number nine," but any untoward occurrence, even the appearance of a rat, could prolong it. Through the entire period the celebrants observed taboos; they could not eat pungent vegetables, nor could they engage in any sexual activities.^[4]

"Nine" (siam ) marked the graduating pedit, confirming a couple's baknang status. After this their prime responsibility shifted to helping their children ascend the prestige ladder. But the wealthiest could still continue their own series, celebrating "eleven," "thirteen," and so on. Upon reaching the stellar level of "twenty-five," the couple had completed one full ritual cycle and was expected to withdraw. In the "reti

The Buguias Funeral

Funerals, except for those of suicides, replicated the essential structure of the pedit ceremony. Both centered around communion with the dead, and both reflected the status of the honored individual.

On the first day of a wake, the survivors would lash the corpse to a death chair, where it would remain throughout the ceremony. A smokey fire and watchful fly-shooer at its side fought off the worst effects of putrefaction. On the initial day a male and a female pig were butchered, and, if necessary to feed the guests, a cow or steer also. The second day would pass with little ritual, simpler food being prepared for the guests. On the third day, the deceased's children huddled together under a blanket holding a single fiber, signifying the continuity of generations. Now the most sacred rituals began. Sacrifices ensued, always in male and female pairs, until

a number commensurate with the deceased's stature—and with the wealth of his or her survivors—was reached. Duality was a constant theme; guests brought paired presents (designated male and female), and were required to attend for an even number of days. Buguias wakes were often rather festive; food and drink were plentiful, and the participants commonly remained awake through the night, drinking, telling stories, and singing to the corpse.

Poorer individuals were buried at the end of the third day, but most were interred on day five. On the fifth day, three pigs, the first odd-numbered offering, usually signified the funeral's conclusion. But such an abbreviated wake would not suffice for a baknang, and the wealthiest remained in the death chair for one month or longer. (One story tells of a funeral beginning on the day a particular dog gave birth, and ending after the pups were as large as the mother.) The higher a person had progressed in the pedit series, the longer his or her corpse was expected to remain unburied. A baknang's entire cattle herd could be consumed in the process, although half of it would usually be saved if there were a surviving spouse.

At the close of the public sacrifices the corpse was placed in a coffin carved from a single unblemished pine log. But the ceremony had not yet ended. On the following night, close relatives and ritualists would retrieve the coffin and again expose the body, offering one last hog and chanting again through the night. Thirty-six hours later came the final burial. The next day, barring bad omens, each married child of the deceased would offer two hogs in their own homes. A final ceremony, also incumbent upon the married children, took place three months to a year later. During this rite the deceased, now a full-fledged amed, or ancestor, returned for the first time to socialize with the living.

But the initial burial site was not necessarily the final resting place. Not uncommonly, an ancestor would visit one of his or her descendants in a dream, pleading that his or her bones be transferred to a new gravesite. This entailed a new round of ceremonies and sacrifices. In the Spanish period, the movement of the coffin had been easily accomplished, as most were put to rest in natural caves and crevices. In that era entire families were sometimes interred in a single carved, zoomorphic casket. In a still earlier period, secondary burials were made in ceramic jars. Evidently, it was

only in the American period that coffins were buried under earth; after the war, above-ground concrete-block crypts were adopted, facilitating once again the periodic transfer of bones.

Other Rites

Several unusual ceremonies punctuated the lives of a few individuals in the Buguias community. If a couple could not reproduce they would perform fertility rites; if these failed, divorce was the usual recourse. (In the disjoining ritual the couple's hog-feeding trough would be split in two while a single animal was sacrificed.) Individuals sometimes tried to hide from bad luck by changing their names, and this too called for specific rituals and sacrifices.

Overall, ritual practices were not rigidly fixed; requirements were flexible, with specific actions negotiated by celebrants, elders, and ritual experts. Moreover, innovation and borrowings from neighboring peoples brought ever greater complexity. While some rituals remained specific to a single family, change occurred readily in the community at large, for all significant actions took place within a context of shared meanings that was itself open to discussion and debate. But remaining central to the whole was the display of status during all major ritual occasions.

Status Display

Religion was inseparable from social stratification. The magnitude of ceremonial expenditure varied directly with the wealth of the celebrating couple, and individual status reflected a history of ritual performance. Moreover, in community-wide ceremonies the relative social position of many individuals attending was publicly and precisely displayed. The exact standing of any given person was the subject of intermittent negotiation, with the ritual specialists acting as the ultimate arbiters.

High-status persons were accorded honors at all feasts. They dined first, received the choicest meats, and were provided the freshest rice beer. They also received ample shares of take-home meat. Dancing order also depended on status; the elite danced first, representing their (usually) elite ancestors. The truly poor

were often too ashamed to participate at all. High-status individuals were also privy to the inner ritual circles; they, for example, along with the religious experts, often chanted through the night in the celebrants' house. At their own ceremonies, the elite advertised their positions clearly, in part by displaying collections of Chinese porcelain vases.

Blanket Rank

The elite received special treatment at ceremonies as a prerogative of power rather than as a display of status. But ritual dancing pegged status exactly, since performers indicated their ranks with funerary blankets and accessory garments of known prestige value.

The five different blankets, which would ultimately serve as burial shrouds, reflected their owners' status in reinforcing ways. The intricately woven higher-rank blankets were elaborately patterned and very expensive. The topmost blanket, alladang , along with its five complementary garments, could only grace the community's highest echelon. The second highest, pinagpagan , was also restricted to the elite. The lower kwabao could adorn the older and more respected commoners, but most common people were entitled only to the cheaper dil-li. The poorest individuals donned only bandala , a cheap, essentially secular covering. Combinations of blankets and accessories displayed intermediate ranks; an elderly and respected commoner, for example, might be allowed kwabao complemented with a few secondary items normally associated with pinagpagan.^[5]

Four considerations determined an individual's blanket rank. These were, in order of importance: level of achievement in pedit, status of immediate ancestors, wealth of close relatives, and age. A person's position at marriage was largely inherited, but one could subsequently ascend the status ladder, even moving a rung or two during the death ceremony itself if unstinting sacrifices were offered. Such social climbing had its limits, however, as only members of the most exalted lineages could ever hope to wear the alladang.

The ultimate ranking decision, at death, rested with the elders and ritual experts. But arguments from the family of the deceased

who usually hoped for higher status regardless of cost could sway opinion. In one noted case, the alleged wizard Kabading rose two full levels during his wake, as his corpse sat in the death chair through an entire month of deliberation. Since Kabading was not notably wealthy and had not progressed far in pedit, his station at death was only dil-li. But his relatives successfully contended that because he was both a priest and a prophet, because he had produced many descendants, and because his wife had rich cousins who had helped defray the funeral costs, he should be inhumed in pinagpagan.

Ritual Experts

Knowledge of ritual matters could also influence status determination. While the office of manbunung, or priest, appealed little to the wealthy, it did provide an avenue by which a common man could gain prestige. Manbunungs led many exclusive activities, and their blanket ranks could be boosted if they had gained renown.

The Buguias priesthood was internally stratified according to depth of knowledge and performance skills. Obscure rites escaped the mediocre, and only the most capable could officiate at the distinctly different and generally more complex rituals of Kalanguya immigrants. The best of the priestly elite solemnized charismatically, gracefully covering forgotten stanzas and evoking heartfelt emotion from the participants. The worst were castigated as lazy if not greedy; one could earn such a reputation, for instance, by refusing to perform any ceremony that required only chickens.

Although manbunungs occupied an essential ritual office, they were not the most important religious figures. Real ideological power resided rather with the mankotoms , the ritual advisers and prophets of Buguias. Although a manbunung performed ceremonies, he could not determine what they should include; priests could not be so entrusted, it was thought, since they might choose the most expensive ritual in order to increase their own remuneration. A spirit medium would recommend minor curative rites, but a mankotom would specify the procedures of the major ceremonies honoring the ancestors. These several men determined the sequence of pedit and the magnitude of funeral rites; they also served as the ultimate arbiters of social standing. This was not a position

for the poor, although a few men of intermediate standing did reach it, and while it was coveted by the rich, few from that class ever achieved it. The mankotom's position was always tenuous, for his authority finally rested on his ability not only to remember the past but also on his ability to predict the future.

The Ideology of Ritual Performance

Wealth in prewar Buguias permitted lavish ritual performance, which in turn conferred social status. But underlying the feast system was a more recondite economic calculus; couples performed ceremonies primarily in hope of enlarging their own stores of material wealth, which would allow even more grandiose future celebrations, hence even more prestige, and so on. The seeming paradox posed in the proposition that consumption was the route to accumulation was resolved in beliefs concerning the rapport between the living and the dead. In all likelihood, such ideas evolved slowly in the Spanish and American periods, as they have continued to do during the postwar era; as a result, it should be kept in mind that later innovations may have inadvertently been introduced into the oral accounts upon which this analysis is based. The basic workings of the system, however, have clearly been in place for the entire reach of present-day lore.

The Luck of the Ancestors

According to the local economic-cosmological model, luck—vital in every endeavor—was controlled by the ancestors. Certainly the Buguias people considered hard work essential for realizing potential good fortune, just as sloth was considered capable of bringing its own destitution. But fortuity was primary. The nature of a couple's luck hinged on their concourse with their deceased parents, grandparents, and more distant ancestors. To ensure blessings from above, they had to please these amed, and since the dead yearned to return periodically to feast with their descendants, pedit was mandatory. If the offerings were inadequate, the amed would readily indicate their displeasure.

The ancestors relished dance, but they were also greedy for the

spiritual essences of hog flesh and rice beer. They also rejoiced in blankets and even money; a cache of silver peso coins, placed upon a stack of funeral blankets, adorned every pedit ceremony. The dead needed such (non)material things because they too existed within a wealth-based, and mutable, social hierarchy. A soul entered the afterworld with a blanket-signified rank, but could subsequently rise or possibly even fall according to the oblations offered by living descendants. To cinch the matter, an ancestor's power to bestow bounty on the living depended, in turn, on his or her afterlife position. The welfare of the living was thus partly contingent on the gifts that each couple managed to send skyward. The newly rich encountered a special burden here, since to ensure continued success they had not only to placate but also to empower their lowstatus spiritual allies.

Normal communications between earth and heaven were indirect, vague, and subject to misinterpretation. A clear channel, however, opened with every death. While in the death chair, an individual remained in limbo, shuttling back and forth between the two realms until the final burial on earth, corresponding to acceptance in the afterworld. Hence the extravagant attention lavished on the corpse; revelers at the wake sang and chanted unceasingly to the body, asking it to convey special requests to the ancestors. Here also lay the significance of the double burial; with the first interment the soul sojourned in the afterworld, gathering a store of luck that it could redistribute if brought back to earth for a brief period. Since the cooperation of the recently released spirit was vital to the success of this endeavor, the living hoped that through flattery they might secure an enthusiastic messenger. A funeral of an elder was thus not an entirely unhappy occasion. Story telling, joking, and drinking lightened the somber ceremonies at the house of the dead.

Even if well-feted, the ancestors still constituted a threat, thus requiring additional ritual precautions. Two parallel dangers lurked here: an amed might pine for a specific living person's companionship; or, a certain living soul might opt for more constant spiritual communion. In either instance, death could come prematurely. Here lay the peril in visiting a wake on an odd number of occasions; if the pair (essentially a sexual metaphor) were not completed, one's now unbalanced soul could more easily be lost. Spe-

cial ceremonies were also needed to resegregate the quick from the dead. In nonritual settings, however, the afterworld was not so beckoning; in fact, languishing elders would occasionally bundle themselves within their own death shrouds, hoping to frighten their souls into remaining earthbound a while longer.

Ritual and Power in Human Society

During rituals the Buguias people generally feasted together in communal harmony. Disputes were put to rest for the nonce, and the few rivalries exhibited were playful. For example, if someone were to fall asleep during a wake, another might regale the corpse by saying: "Look here, this fellow is ignoring you, so why don't you give to me the favors he requested?" But good will did not always infuse human relations, and mundane disputes were sometimes referred to the afterworld. In trial by ordeal, for example, the ancestors and gods were asked to judge, and were expected to give immediate evidence of guilt or innocence. Moreover, the threat of supernatural sanction always made perjury a dangerous litigation strategy. A curse befalling a liar might persist for years, fomenting perennial ill feelings between contesting families.

On the whole, the Buguias people prized amicable settlements and were proud to note that the blood feuds endemic to many other Cordilleran regions did not plague their society. Yet violent disputes did occasionally erupt, and the opposing parties could try to curry favor from the more powerful ancestors. Since both parties could do the same, human quarrels could escalate into contests between different afterworld factions. A few individuals, usually Kalanguya immigrants, were judged guilty of manipulating malignant spirits for their own benefit; these mantala were greatly feared and occasionally killed, secretly or in public.

The Tong Tongan Jural System

Regardless of ancestral advocacy, most disputes were ultimately settled in the tong tongan , or indigenous court system, the focal point of political power in prewar Buguias. Here the male elders arbitrated suits and sentenced criminals; the issues they faced

ranged from murder to divorce to animal damage in an uma. Not surprisingly, power and to some extent, even membership, in this jural body were not merely functions of age, but also of pedit performance. While an elder of the lowest respectable rank would rate the status of elder, the dominating voices were those of the more elderly elite. But even the richest could not rely merely on their ceremonial renown or economic muscle; a powerful voice had to be eloquent, reasonable, trustworthy, and ultimately convincing to the other jurors. Lower-status elders, however, were usually reluctant to contest their higher fellows. Thus a strong bias pervaded cross-class tong tongan proceedings; poor parties often prosecuted their cases with reluctance, relying instead on the high-class jurors' sense of justice.

Religious significance imbued the tong tongan. Contestants would always purchase a pig for joint sacrifice, while both winner and loser offered additional animals (batbat ) after the settlement—the losing party paying for both. The Buguias people trusted these rituals to quell the ill will and bad luck engendered in litigation. Here too status nudged the scales. A batbat, for example, required only a chicken, but a victorious baknang, if callous, could demand of the loser a pig, the theory being that a man of stature should always perform a lavish rite.

Grounds for Belief

The purported economic linkages between the sky-world and earth rested as much on quasi-empirical demonstration as on faith. The efficacy of prestige feasting was superficially palpable; those couples who held the grandest feasts possessed the greatest wealth, which implied ancestral favor—itself derived from gifts offered in ritual. But this tautology did not suffice. Rather, the Buguias people called for direct evidence tying past performances with present conditions. This was the province of the mankotom. It was his duty to keep track of many individuals' supernatural messages (dreams, sangbos ), their subsequent ritual actions or omissions, and their resulting economic successes and failures. It was on the basis of this body of narrative evidence that the mankotom gave advice and offered prophesies.

If an advisee followed the recommended course but garnered no

luck, he could always question the skill of the mankotom rather than the verity of his own beliefs. Those mankotoms with poor records found their careers abbreviated, but successful forecasters enjoyed ever increasing renown. Of course, even an ascendant prophet occasionally blundered, but then he could always accuse the celebrant of neglecting some minor but essential duty. As a person of considerable ritual power, the mankotom could be tempted to serve himself. One adviser was suspected of having intentionally staged an inappropriate and incomplete ritual so as to offend the ancestors and bring down a disliked advisee. But such a ploy was perilous, since it could destroy a mankotom's reputation, the very stuff of his power.

The Economics of Ritual Expenditure

All rituals entailed expense. An angry nature spirit could usually be appeased with nothing more than a chicken, although an irritated timungao might exact an expensive white pig. But the ancestors, and the living persons honoring them, demanded real livestock slaughter. In any given ceremony this could escalate beyond original expectations, as bile omens might require additional sacrifices. With this eventuality in mind, celebrants sometimes stockpiled small, cheap pigs. In funerals, the paired offerings increased the risk, since a single malformed gallbladder might call for two new animals.

Nor was livestock the only expense. The guests also required carbohydrates and plenty of expensive rice beer. Furthermore, the ritualists demanded pay: the manbunung received the hind leg of a pig or the foreleg of a water buffalo, and the mankotom was given a large portion of the finest meat. As major ceremonies called for several manbunungs, the outlay here could be significant.

A funeral burdened both the estate of the deceased and the personal fortunes of the surviving children. Guests brought alms (used spiritually by the departing soul and materially by responsible family), but these could never cover the entire cost of the funeral. Many believed that if the personal property of the dead (animals and rice terraces) were spared, his or her spirit would be prone to haunt. Further, the alms givers received raw and cooked meat to take home in proportion to their contributions. And finally, the mar-

ried children of the deceased were further burdened with private postfuneral observances for which no assistance was forthcoming.

Social Stratification and Religious Expense

On the surface, ritual expenditures disproportionally taxed the rich. This was especially marked in funerals and above all in pedit, where each step entailed geometrically inflated expenses. But on all occasions, elite couples demonstrated their stature by redistributing lavishly. This also extended to the nonritual feasts (saliw ) that accompanied such occurrences as the completion of a house or the engagement of one's child.

The Buguias ideology demanded the redistribution of wealth. The elite could accumulate only so much; eventually public pressure, or the desire for supernatural favor, would force them to some extent to decapitalize.^[6] No one could live on the fruits of wealth alone, and even the richest had to pursue income actively. But, in the great irony of Buguias religion, a favored method of reacquiring wealth was to exploit the religious observations of the commoners. Here was a fine opportunity for usury.

Every self-respecting commoner had to begin adult life with a series of expensive rituals, beginning with the wedding ceremony. Social pressure motivated laggards; villagers denigrated any woman who married a man too poor or frugal to supply a buffalo ("Are you so cheap that he could take you with just a chicken?"). Couples who failed to perform the postwedding ceremony of sabang humiliated their parents, who feared for their own status—both on earth and in the afterlife. If a couple did not at least initiate the pedit series they suffered continual shame. Everyone was obligated to entertain the ancestors and to feast the living; the wellbeing of the entire village rested here. Further costs were encountered with sickness, and, more importantly, with funerals. Only members of the servile class could ignore the demands of the spirits and the corresponding responsibilities of community life.

One may well wonder how people of little property were able to afford such celebrations. The only answer was long-term debt. Few managed easily to return the principal, and interest charges—often hidden—exacerbated their plight. Most commoners remained constantly in debt, often owing their labor as well as their livestock to

the village financiers. This put them at a psychological and monetary disadvantage in communal affairs. Debtors were often cowed, and wealthy creditors could argue with little opposition the right to dictate a poor couple's ritual schedule, saying, "You couldn't do anything if we didn't lend you money, therefore you should do as we say."

Interest arrangements for ritual expenses varied. Loans were often "on the hoof," in which case the lender immediately received a large chunk of flesh as partial compensation. On other occasions the baknang would lend money for the purchase of a specific animal. In this instance, several parties might claim "interest meat," including the creditor, the animal's caretaker, and its owner. Interest on simple cash loans also varied; usually a year's grace period was allowed, after which rates ranged between zero and 30 percent annually, depending on the generosity of the lender and on the familial ties of the two parties.

A few debtors escaped altogether by moving away, either to Baguio City or to a more remote district within Benguet. But most commoners continued to pay off their old debts—although they usually accumulated new ones in the interim. If a borrower owned rice terraces, the lender could take possession after several years of nonpayment and eventually claim them outright. One baknang in particular was alleged to have amassed extensive terrace holdings in this manner.

One could not claim baknang standing if one did not lend animals for prestige feasts. This was a responsibility of rank, albeit one that could be used to advantage. But by exploiting the poverty of neighbors and relatives the unscrupulous baknang would arouse community censure. In characteristic circularity, however, communal approbation could readily be reacquired through further ritual expenditures. Both despite and because of their considerable outlays, a few powerful individuals retained control of the community's underlying financial structure.

Power and Religion Reconsidered

Political power in prewar Buguias rested largely on wealth legitimated by ritual performance. If any baknang couple had tried to shirk their ritual responsibility (an unthinkable occurrence), their position would have faltered, for it depended critically on popular

support. The elite had few real means of coercion in the indigenous system; even in exercising political power they worked with, not against, the public. The commoners accepted elite domination in part because the wealthy, by feasting the entire village, proved themselves worthy of respect, and, by honoring the ancestors, helped ensure the prosperity of all Buguias people.

Most Buguias residents considered the differentiation of human society into rich and poor, powerful and weak, to be the natural order of things. Social stratification pervaded their universe, being marked just as strongly in heaven as on earth. The gods of Benguet were noted above all else for their wealth, as is evident in Sacla's (1987:53–56) masterful translations of ritual chants:

It is said, Pati came down;
The progenitor of the wealth and mighty;
He came down with pigs, your pigs . . .
It is said, Balitoc came down
Whose gold scales balance perfectly;
A precious scale used in Suyoc;
Yes, because he is wealthy and mighty;
He came with pigs, your pigs . . .
It is said Kabigat came down;
With precious coins in the amount of twelve and a half;
He used to purchase pigs for pedit;
Yes, because he is wealthy and mighty;
He came down with pigs, your pigs . . .
It is said Lumawig came down;
He has power to cast out evil;
Yes, because he is wealthy and mighty;
He came down with pigs, your pigs . . .
It is said, Bangan came down,
Bangan from Langilangan;
Wearing an alad-dang blanket;
She wore such garment because
she is rich and mighty . . .

Even nature spirits in Buguias were class-divided. The wealthy timungao, of course, could cause much greater harm or bestow much better fortune than their more modest colleagues. If a human were to break an (invisible) porcelain jar of a baknang ni timungao , serious consequences could be avoided only through a very expensive ritual.

But individual class positions, whether in human or ancestral society, were never regarded as ordained; it was rather the economic interactions between these two spheres that allowed mobility in both. As everyone hoped to prosper, the luck-bestowing ancestors lay at the focus of religious life. Although individuals competed for material gain, their relations with their forebears ultimately hinged on communal engagements. The centrifugal tendencies of a commercial and competitive society were partly balanced by the centripetal forces inherent in common worship and food sharing.

In more immediate material terms, however, the resources necessary both for upward mobility and for the wealthy to maintain their positions were derived largely from interregional trade. It is this mercantile sphere, which also formed the essential preconditions for Buguias's later commercial transformation, that we shall now examine.