Name: LETE, Jerika Jane Angela M. Prof. Nasser A.

Dugasan
Course/Student Number: BSA/2023-0911
GEC11A: Philippine Popular Culture
Research 2

Growing up in La Union, with my mom from Naguilian and my dad from San Fernando, I’ve
always felt a deep connection to the rich cultural heritage of our region. The indigenous arts
present in La Union and across Region 1 are more than just beautiful expressions of creativity;
they carry the stories of our ancestors and the essence of who we are as a people. From the
time I was young, these traditional arts were part of the fabric of everyday life, not just in
festivals but in our homes, in the way we celebrate, and in the things we value. These arts are
living representations of our past, kept alive through generations, reminding us of the
resourcefulness, resilience, and beauty of our culture.

One of the most prominent indigenous arts in our region is “Inabel weaving”, a tradition that
has always stood out to me. I remember visiting relatives and seeing these beautiful
handwoven fabrics on beds and as decor in homes. Inabel, with its intricate geometric and
floral patterns, isn’t just cloth; it’s a reflection of our Ilocano heritage. Weavers pass down
their techniques through generations, ensuring that this craft remains a vibrant part of our
culture. Each piece is unique, requiring patience and precision, and the natural dyes used
come from plants in the local environment. Beyond its practical use in making blankets,
clothes, and bags, Inabel carries deep cultural significance, symbolizing the
interconnectedness of family, community, and nature. The fabric is a marker of our identity, a
link to our ancestors, and a representation of our region’s creativity and resilience.

Another indigenous art form deeply rooted in our culture is “burnay pottery”, which has
historically been crafted in nearby Ilocos Sur but remains an integral part of the daily lives of
people in La Union. These earthen jars, made from local clay, were once used to store rice,
vinegar, and fermented fish, essential for survival in the pre-colonial period. My own family
used burnay jars for keeping food fresh, and even today, these beautiful, durable vessels
remind us of the self-sufficient lifestyle of our forebears. The craft of making burnay is labor-
intensive, involving shaping the clay by hand, firing it in kilns, and applying traditional
methods that date back centuries. Burnay jars stand as a symbol of how our people worked in
harmony with the environment, using the land’s natural resources to create something both
functional and long-lasting.

“Basi wine-making” is another indigenous tradition that has had a lasting impact on our local
culture, especially in my mother’s hometown of Naguilian, which is known for producing this
fermented sugarcane wine. Basi isn’t just a drink; it holds historical and cultural weight. The
production of basi has been a part of Ilocano life for hundreds of years, originally used in
rituals and celebrations. However, it became a symbol of rebellion during the Basi Revolt of
1807, when Ilocanos protested against Spanish control over the wine trade. Today, when my
family shares a bottle of basi during special occasions, it feels like we’re connecting with that
history, celebrating both our traditions and the spirit of independence that basi represents. It
reminds us of our region’s fight for freedom and our ability to preserve something uniquely
ours.
In local festivals and celebrations, I’ve always been drawn to the lively performances of
traditional Ilocano dances like the “binatbatan dance”. This dance is more than just
entertainment; it’s an artistic reflection of our agricultural heritage. The movements mimic
the beating of cotton pods to release fibers, a process crucial to the making of Inabel fabric.
Every time I watch or participate in these performances, it feels like a tribute to the
hardworking farmers and weavers who sustain our community. These dances are an important
way of keeping our history alive, showcasing the connection between the land and our
livelihood, and highlighting the importance of preserving the traditions that define our
collective identity.

While “indigenous tattooing” (or “batok”) isn’t as common in La Union today, it’s part of a
broader revival of interest in the cultural practices of our ancestors. Though more associated
with the Kalinga people, traditional tattooing was once widespread in northern Luzon,
including parts of Region 1. These tattoos were marks of bravery and social standing,
especially among warriors. Today, the resurgence of batok is seen as a way of reclaiming our
indigenous roots, with people seeking out tattoos not only for their aesthetic appeal but for
the connection they provide to our past. It’s a form of art that binds us to our ancestors,
symbolizing resilience, identity, and a deep respect for cultural traditions.

These indigenous arts—Inabel weaving, burnay pottery, basi wine-making, Ilocano dances,
and tattooing—are more than just relics of the past; they are living, breathing aspects of our
identity. Each tradition carries within it the stories, values, and skills passed down through
generations. In today’s world, as we navigate rapid changes and modernization, these cultural
practices serve as a reminder of where we came from. They ground us, giving us a sense of
belonging and continuity, while also celebrating the unique creativity and resilience that
define La Union and Region 1. For me, these arts aren’t just part of my heritage; they’re a
source of pride, connecting me to my community and the legacy of our ancestors.