Story by Alyanna Chio
Photo by Andrea Jobelle Adan
Privileging beauty: Unmasking the plight of the indigenous
It seems, however, that their faces have served as masks for all the bigger issues relating to members of the national minority.
Good looks contribute a great deal to one’s rise to fame, especially when the beauty one possesses passes off as ‘natural’ or ‘true’. “Carrot Man” and “Badjao Girl”, both members of the national minority, are good examples of this.
Carrot Man and Badjao Girl are only two of the many unheard and unseen faces of the national minority. If not for society’s affinity for standardized beauty, their lives would not have transformed from that of the marginalized to that of the seemingly privileged.
It seems, however, that their faces have served as masks for all the bigger issues relating to members of the national minority.
Carrot Man, who in reality is named Jeyrick Sigmaton, gained prominence when photos of him carrying a basket of vegetables went viral on Facebook last February. The photos were uploaded by Edwina Bandong, a bakeshop owner who took photos of the young man during her visit to the Mountain Province.
Sigmaton is a proud Igorot. A farmer from Bauko, Mountain Province, he is the eldest of seven children and had stopped schooling to help his parents support their family.
His viral photos drew the attention of the media, leading him to several features in television shows such as Kapuso Mo, Jessica Soho and Unang Hirit. The exposure led him further to a modelling career, as he is now the new face of a local retailer, Boardwalk.
Just two months later, the internet saw another horde of netizens gushing over their latest online discovery.
During the feast of San Isidro, also known as Lucban, Quezon’s famous Pahiyas Festival, Topher Burgos, a local photographer, captured the natural morena beauty of 13-year-old Rita Gabiola, who was then begging for alms in the street.
More than Gabiola’s morena complexion and high cheekbones, however, what struck people was her story.
Before her rise to fame, Gabiola’s family lived off of her father’s fishing. She is the second among six children. Her family is part of the indigenous group known as the “Badjao”, earning her the moniker “Badjao Girl”.
Aside from being offered a photoshoot gig, Gabiola’s social media virality led her to be given clothes, shoes, money, school supplies, and a scholarship as gifts from individuals and corporate sponsors.
Not long after, she was introduced as a housemate at the ABS-CBN reality TV series Pinoy Big Brother (PBB) Lucky Season 7 Teen Edition. Although evicted from the house last September 3, Gabiola said the experience had completely transformed her life. She and her family are now living a more comfortable life, and help was also offered to her community.
Photos grabbed from facebook and instagram accounts of James Christopher Domingo and Jerick Sanchez.
The Bigger Picture
Members of the national minority have expressed their support for the success of Sigmaton and Gabiola. However, they also hope that netizens and the media would take interest in more issues regarding indigenous people, not just those involving aquiline noses and pleasing cheekbones.
“Dahil maganda, pinansin. Pero pag hindi maganda, hindi papansinin?” Lorinda, a 40-year old Tausug said.
People rave about Gabiola’s beauty, but very few actually understand the plight of her people. “Badjao”, meaning “river dwellers”, had become an infamous term for the group Sama Dilaut, who are among the most misunderstood and marginalized among the Filipino national minorities.
The Badjao live in the water of the Sulu Sea, and from the provinces of Sulu, Tawi-Tawi, Basilan, and some coastal towns of Zamboanga del sur province. Over the years, wars, discrimination, as well as fishing and environmental issues have led them to abandon their nomadic boat-dwelling life. It led many of them to the metro, resorting to what few pesos begging could give them.
Lorinda hopes that netizens would be as enthusiastic in learning the story of the tribe as they are in raving about Gabiola’s pretty face.
“Kilala nila si Badjao Girl, pero sana kilalanin din nila yung istorya ng mga Badjao. Marami kasi yan.”
Even so, Lorinda finds joy in their success.
“Kahit hindi ako Badjao o Igorot at Tausug ako, pareho parin kaming mga miyembro ng katutubo
kaya parang kapatid na sila namin,” she said.
“Mabait na bata si Rita, gusto niyang tulungan hindi lang pamilya niya, pero buong katutubo niya. Yun ang mahalaga. Hindi lang siya maganda, masipag din at may pangarap. Masaya ako na nakakapag-aral na siya,” she added.
If given the same situation as Gabiola or Sigmaton, Mary An Talawie, a 52-year old Tausug, shared,“Siguro kung ako yung sumikat, kung ako sa kalagayan nila, makakatulong din ako ng malaki sa grupo na ito, sa mga Moro.”
“Sana mas makilala din ng mga tao ang issues na katulad saming mga Moro na nabaliwala. Dapat bigyan din ng katuparan na sana, mabago ang buhay naming mga katutubo, yung parang ma-ibuild up din ang sarili nila, kase pare-pareho naman lahat,” Talawie explained.
Without Gabiola’s pretty face, however, she may not have received the education she was offered, a right that everybody else is entitled to.
Time will come and just like most internet sensations and celebrities, the names “Badjao Girl” and “Carrot Man” will slip away from the limelight. They will be forgotten, the internet’s ephemeral nature ensures, but the plight of the indigenous continues.
In the same way netizens have praised them for their faces and stories, it’s time to reach out to the indigenous communities and learn more about their battles. Violence, militarization, lack of shelter, livelihood, and education, are still things the the national minorities have to grapple with. Their everyday struggle continues, masked by beautiful faces and sculpted bodies.
But no mask, no matter how pretty, should cover something as hideous as their bloody crusade. Now’s the time to burn the facade, and help them in the struggle.
