My First Ibaloi Biology Teacher

During my early years in the 1960s and outside my immediate family, Manong Ben (Manong is Ilocano for sir) taught my first lessons in Biology and life. A native of Benguet province, he belonged to the Ibaloi tribe, an "Igorot," that is, of the "people of the mountains," the Cordilleras of northern Luzon.

He had worked in Strike and Spare Lanes, along Mabini St., for as long as I can remember. He was the gardener of the bowling, taking care of the lilies, the roses, daisies and chrysanthemums.

He taught me the importance of sunlight and rain in the life cycle of plants, the earthworm in soil preparation, and the spider in protecting plants from grasshoppers. He explained and showed how a caterpillar turned into a butterfly and how the butterfly helped propagate the roses. I had since then, loved gardening.

More than a gardener, Manong Ben was human. For me, he was patient, kind and understanding. He was also content, with simple dreams. I suppose, he left his hometown to start a new life in the city. He found a home in Strike and became a family member. He was surrogate mom or dad, when both of my parents were not around. He picked us up from school when my older brother and me were stranded due to the sudden downpour (from a typhoon that arrived earlier than expected). He carried along our umbrellas and raincoats, so we all could brave the rain.

Manong Ben never finished high school. But we respected him, even until my elder brother and I finished high school, and went all the way to finish college. Why? His words were wisdom, with the force of what is natural. He instilled common sense, even as the world put a premier value on education as a means to development. He also had a quiet dignity and humility, rare in a world where worldly ambitions – fame, fortune and power, were considered the measures of success.

Scientists, as objectively as they could, had probed deep into space and had analyzed the smallest particle of matter. They also figured out that life forms have a common denominator, the DNA. But they have not proven the existence of the soul. Why? The soul is not something that is observed; it is something that is touched with one’s heart.

Scientists were objective, devoid of feelings, in their approach. But they all agree that the quanta, virtual reality, is influenced by the observer, that there is really nothing completely objective in the world.

Manong Ben is no scientist. But all it took for him was to touch what is real through his heart. He felt the world through the flowers and the insects in his garden. He poured out his soul as he sprinkled water in his plants.

Manong Ben felt for us, like he would water his garden.

I suppose, having a heart and a soul are the two greatest lessons in living as a human being. Like culture, they are intangible; without physical form. But unlike culture, they are natural.

Incidentally, Manong Ben fell in love with a house-help of Lola Dolores, the matriarch-owner of Strike and Spae Bowling Lanes. He saved his hard-earned pay to send her to nursing school. When she finished, she married someone else. Manong Ben was so heart-broken until he left, which was soon after his garden was replaced by a two-storey commercial building. (Strike and Spare is now Jack's Restaurant.)

He came back to visit, some 10 years later, in 1973, when I was already married, with a daughter. He became a proud cooperative manager in his hometown. He remained human, with a quiet dignity.

I never saw Manong Ben again. But his lessons in biology and life remained with me. To this day, everytime i meet an Ibaloi, i am reminded of him. I only have respect for the tribe that nurtured my love for the earth.

How i wish, i have the native genes. I would certainly shout out: "I am proud to be Ibaloi! I am proud to be Igorot! I belong to the "People of the Mountain!"