THERE is magic in the Number 1. Filipinos in a celebratory spirit regard New Year’s Day as an occasion for ceremonial optimism. The ritual for pleasant prospects in itself is a charm. No somber mood should spoil the first day of the year.
And to ensure that the year starts auspiciously, rice bins and jugs are filled to the brim with rice and water, and the dining table becomes a veritable cornucopia. Windows and doors are flung open to welcome the first day and everyone assumes a cheerful countenance so that patterns of wants and failures may be overcome by the vivid possibilities of January 1st.
Inevitably, folk tradition presumes that the New Year will be propitious if the first day of January falls on a Sunday, the sun’s day. And we believe it to be so if only because beginnings inspire sanguine expectations of the future.
Luck of the first-born
The most ordinary and routine chores of our lives become momentous events when viewed in the light of the first and doubly promising when associated with newly born infants. It is not uncommon for a mother to take her newly born, or better yet, her first-born for a visit, as in Angat, Bulacan, where the simple act of visiting transforms into a lucky talisman for both homeowner and infant visitor. The grateful host presents his guest with a small bag of rice, a token of mutual good luck.
Even the baby’s first bath becomes a portentous occasion and assumes the aspect of ritual divination when the bathtub is surrounded with items of signification—books, candles or a pencil for future wisdom, or flowers for love and friendship.
In Cagayan Valley, a baby boy is given ampalaya (bitter gourd) as his first solid food, an ominous foretaste of the bitter moments that he inevitably will have to face.
The natives of Cagayan de Oro choose to include a sow’s brains in the initial meal to endow the child with eloquence. Even the first haircut, by common practice, is done on the first birthday to ensure vigor in the child’s growing years.
First object as talisman
The most common objects taken first upon occupying a new home become tokens of good fortune. Traditionally, water, rice and salt are brought in by the new residents, not only because they are essential for the initial meal, but as an insurance for the dwellers never to suffer want. Practices may vary in form and procedure to suit the preference of culture and place but the essence of the first object as a talisman is indubitable.
In Pampanga, fire is brought to a new home before anything else to light the stove and keep it always warm; in Lucban, Quezon, sacred images for protection; and in Misamis Oriental, a kindled lamp is placed on the threshold to greet the dawn. The natives of Aklan go one step further, taking a jug of water and a sack of rice a week before moving in as harbingers of prosperity.
Potency of first seed
The practice of fruit farmers to pluck but never to eat the first fruits of a harvest but to use the seeds to plant more trees stems from the belief in the potency of the first seeds. This usage finds a parallel in Laguna, where the first rice sheaves are placed above the stove for future planting. Farmers in Tiaong, Quezon, store the first sheaves in the bottom of the sack to assure they never run out of the staple.
Folks in Argao, Cebu bathe children who attend school for the first time with the first showers of May, vaunted to possess curative and miraculous powers. Cavite barefoot doctors swear that the first urine of a newborn is medicinal and prescribe it as a tonic for postpartum mothers.
The number 1 belongs to the innovator, the planner, the pioneer. In a world subject to competition and selection, the number 1 emerges ahead of the rest. It is the numerical abstract of privilege, and shines most brightly upon the headsman, the leader, the chief.
The word of the apo (elder), the custodian of tradition, is law. Mosaic Law ascribed to the eldest son special privileges, chief of which being the headship of the family. Primogeniture in the European feudal system signified the preferential right to inheritance bestowed by law, custom and usage to the eldest son.
In the ancient barangay, where the father was head, his eldest son inherited leadership upon his death. But male dominance or sexual preference was not always the rule for in the absence of sons the eldest daughter succeeded in the same order.
Among Visayan families of precolonial days, the eldest daughter carried added value in the bride price, the compensation paid for her by the parents of the groom. In Panay and Cebu, the value of the eldest and the youngest daughters tipped the scales economically in favor of the bride’s family. It was not considered desirable for a younger sister to be married ahead of the eldest. If that eventuality should occur, the bridegroom’s parents were required to pay a fine—in money, jewelry, tools and other items of value—to compensate the eldest’s being bypassed. This would give her financial independence in case she never married.
No. 1 as bane and curse
So much for the first as a boon, now we turn to the first as a bane. The pendulum swings to the opposite side and that which is a blessing may also become a curse.
Primogeniture is not always a status to be enjoyed, it is also a burden to be borne. More often than not, the first-born is the main prop of aging parents and the economic provider for younger siblings. The leader must shoulder most of the weight to lighten the load of those he leads.
Allegorically, the first-born is the sacrificial goat, reminiscent of that which had to be burned and sacrificed in place of Isaac. The first-born as the leader epitomizes the scapegoat for it is he, or she, who must bear the brunt for all.
The custom of making burnt offerings of the first-born was prevalent in ancient societies. The first offering, whether of man or beast, was due from birth to the Creator in recognition of His supreme dominion.
Sacrificing the first
The impulse to let go of the first, suggestive of a scapegoat, is a revealing element in our culture from which springs the conviction that good will follow. In agriculture this philosophy finds animistic expression in the taboo against consuming the first fruits and grains, which are given back in ceremonial offering to the spirit.
In Abuyog and Burauen towns of Leyte, the first stalks of palay are given to the Church in the person of the parish priest. Fishermen of Magat, Cagayan, and Solano and Bayombong, Nueva Vizcaya, throw their first catch back to the sea for the water deities to claim.
In Batangas, it is never sold for profit, but offered to the less fortunate as in Misamis Oriental or eaten among friends in a thanksgiving feast. The first litter of a sow is also given away so subsequent litters will be larger and more numerous (although scientifically the first litter of any whelping animal is usually smaller). In Pangasinan, a sow’s first litter is given away to ensure good luck for the donor. In the coconut-producing provinces, the first extraction of tuba (fermented coconut juice), is spilled to the ground as libation for the devil.
A similar concept is deferring the defloration of the virgin bride on the first night of marriage as practiced by Christian and non-Christian Filipinos of old, to guarantee a fruitful and lasting union.
There seems to be no field of activity that is without this fetish for the first. We find it even in our market culture where the seller favors the first buyer with a big discount, purposely selling at a loss to bring good luck to the business for the rest of the day. This all too familiar sales pitch is called the buena mano (literally “good hand” in Spanish).
Bias vs women
There is is, however, a bias against women when it comes to the first. Farmers in Bukidnon never allow a woman to gather the first crops lest they spoil. In Santol, La Union and San Vicente in the province of Pangasinan, no woman must ever reap the grains if the harvest is to be abundant. For was it not a woman who took the first bite of the forbidden fruit?
Superstitious cockfighters will go to great lengths to avoid encountering a pregnant woman on their way to the cockpit. Women are also forbidden to handle new household utensils like new pots, pans, ladles, mortar and pestles. Their initial use is the exclusive prerogative of the men in the family to ensure that they would last.
Whence came this discrimination if not from the biblical scheme of creation wherein woman was but a runner-up to man?
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