The Philippine Historical Association

Historical Bulletin Volume LVII 2023

Si Dante L. Ambrosio at ang Kasaysayan ng Etnoastronomiyang Pilipino, 1992-2010 (Dante L. Ambrosio and the History of Philippine Ethnoastronomy, 1992-2010)

By Emmanuel Jayson V. Bolata

(Translated by K.S. Villoso, read more about her)

Abstract

(Original text in English)

This paper traces the development of research interests and contributions of the historian Dante L. Ambrosio (1951-2011) in historicizing Philippine ethnoastronomy. Called the "father of Philippine ethnoastronomy," Ambrosio became popular because of his historical research on ethnoastronomy, best represented by the book Balatik: Etnoastronomiya: Kalangitan sa Kabihasnang Pilipino (Balatik: Ethnoastronomy: Sky in Philippine Civilization, 2010). Here he showed the trove of perceptions, beliefs, knowledge, and customs of the indigenous Filipinos regarding the skies, which they also used for their economic and cultural activities. This paper narrates the genesis of his interest in astronomy, from 1965 when he witnessed the passing of Comet Ikeya-Seki, to his efforts to know the indigenous stars in 1982 as a student of history at the University of the Philippines Diliman, to his preliminary research on ethnoastronomy in 1992 as part of the doctorate program, his fieldwork in Tawi-Tawi from 1995 to 2000, and the writing of his dissertation titled "Balatik: Kalangitan bilang isang Saligan ng Kabihasnang Pilipino, 1582-Kasalukuyan" (Balatik: Sky as a Foundation of Philippine Civilization, 1582-Present, 2003). This paper also asserts that although there is a large difference between the subject of his master's thesis, which is about the militant workers' movement, and the subject of his dissertation, we can still observe continuities and a fusion of approaches and ideas in his two major works-especially with what he was forwarding as a historiographical concept, "kapaligiran" (environment).

(The following is translated from Tagalog)

In the “About the Author” section of his master’s thesis and dissertation, Dante Lacsmana Ambrosio (July 15, 1951 – June 04, 2011) mentions the events “that helped shaped his present beliefs.” The first three, which can be read in his master’s thesis, each the Sigwa ng Unang Kwarto (First Quarter Storm) of 1970; the declaration of martial law in 1972; and his stint as a political detainee between 1979-1980. He also added, in his dissertation 11 years later, two additional ones: “the several years he spent as a researcher between 1995-2000 with the Sama and Tausug of Tawi-tawi, which opened up his mind on the breadth, depth, and value of Filipino civilization, and the 18 years he spent as a professor in UP (University of the Philippines), which gave him permission to chart his own course.”

The period between 1995-2000, which was when he carried out the fieldwork for his dissertation, is an important time for Ambrosio, and yet it didn’t begin there. We can look further out, during the 1960’s. After he finished as a valedictorian at Santiago Syjuco Jr. Memorial School in Malabon, he stuadied in Philippine Science High School for three years before he transferred at Torres High School in Tondo, where he finished as a salutatorian. His interest in astronomy stems from the idyllic days he spent in Pisay. According to him,

“It was October of 1965 when I saw a comet for the first time. I was studying in Philippine Science High School, living in the dormitory of UP Village, Quezon City. One morning, at dawn, I went hiking up a hill with a dormitory roommate to see the Comet Ikeya-Seki, one of the brightest comets of the 20th century. I was struck with feelings of amazement and unease. I was in awe of its beauty, but felt disconcerted at how it intruded upon the picture of a normal sky. It is then that I felt a strong urge to discover other “secrets” of the skies. It was then that I became a stargazer and amateur astronomer.”

After he finished studying at Torres High School, “he took BS Physics at Ateneo de Manila University and University of the Philippines as a scholar for the National Science Development Board (NSDB). He didn’t finish this degree when martial law was declared.” Despite his insistence that he didn’t finish studying this course during the declaration of martial law, one can read in “The Monopoly’s Destruction of Information on Dictatorship,” a paper that he read for an alternative classroom on September 28, 1999, the detailed accounts and experiences of student activists. He spoke of the creative ways they rebelled, including OP-OD (operation paint and operation “dikit” (paste)), smuggling manifestos, carrying out protests by wearing black ribbons, noise barrage, silent march, and lightning rallies using the national anthem, and placing prints bearing anti-dictator slogans on the stray cats in the AS (College of Arts and Sciences). They also demanded the return of student organizations, the student council, and the Philippine Collegian. One can imagine the tearful laughter emanating from the students as they listed to Ambrosio’s playful narration of these dark times:

“As I said, we continued writing and handing out these manifestos. Outside the AS, you can distribute these in secret. But it’s like AS became a camp. This was not acceptable. You have to smuggle the manifestos inside. Different methods were used—we hid them inside socks (which crumpled them); we also hid them inside our briefs (which crumpled them, and also made them moist—because of sweat)…

It’s not just manifestos that were smuggled into AS. We also continued OP-OD. OD was stronger. Before, newspapers with large letters—DESTROY IMPERIALISM!—were pasted on the walls. But now, small paper tapes with the slogan—Destroy the EU-Marcos dictatorship!—were smuggled into the AS. We would lick the back of these before pressing them on the wall with our palms. These were done often, so as the person pasting them on the wall grew braver, the longer the tape. Before, people would lick these despite how broad and long the tape was. But these dried up the saliva and made our tongues hurt. We suffered through this until we realized that we can just use wet tissues or rags.”

Ambrosio returned to the familiar classrooms of the AS after he was released from prison between 1979-1980. It was 1982 when he re-enrolled to take History. It was during this time that he encountered stories on the ancient stars. According to him, “It was 1982 when I first read accounts on the lives of the Magbangal in Bukidnon. It was then that I discovered that Filipinos have their own names for stars.” He finished AB History in 1984 or 1985, and it was said that “from 1985 he started teaching in UP.”

Despite the faint strands of idea forming in his head about pursuing the history of Philippine astronomy, he directed his focus on the field of labour movements when he took his Master’s Degree. His experience and involvement in labour movements served as his inspiration. On the 27th of January, 1992, Ambrosio presented his defense, titled “Militant Movements of Workers in Manila: 1972-1982 Ebb, Swell, Flow. Prof. Milagros C. Guerrero served as his adviser, while Prof. Rene Ofreneo, who was dean of the School of Labour and Industrial Relations (SOLAIR) served as his critic. On March 1992, two months before his defense, Ambrosio finalized his thesis.

Ambrosio’s interests would give birth to several publications concerning social and political histories, from which he would draw from while writing his master’s thesis. On 1994, he outlined a short version of his master’s thesis on the special issue of Philippine Social Sciences Review, which bore the same name. For another special issue of Philippine Sciences Review on April 1998, Ambrosio outlined the article “A Century of Workers’ Movements,” which dealt with the simultaneous blossoming and development of reformist-revolutionary and workers’ movements. Ambrosio’s earlier radical and anti-dictator writings were also mentioned, Leftist ideologies and institutions, modes of recollection on Philippine national heroes and their fight against oppression, and, as a bridge to the history of Astronomy, the association between the heroes and the stars. (For now, it can be said that it is important to study Ambrosio’s work on the historiography of social movements and political ideologies in the Philippines).

While reading Ambrosio’s master’s thesis, the hasty arguments of various scholars concerning the historiography of workers’ movements can be disputed. First, it is not enough to say that the contributions of historians are “individualistic in nature ,” i.e. there was no conversation with scholars of labour and industry associations or active participation in workers’ organizations, because Ambrosio himself was part of several workers’ institutions and participated in activism and was even jailed as a political detainee, and was advised on his thesis by a prominent labour scholar, Prof. Ofreneo. Secondly, it is not appropriate to say that Ambrosio was involved in what was called “old labour history,” which focused on the structure and activities of institutions and groups, which is different from “new labour history,” which focuses on the “lived experiences” of workers. These are considered Westernized categories which should be used cautiously in the Philippine context. In one part of his master’s thesis, he mentions the daily expenses of a worker during 1976: breakfast consisting of five pandesal and one cup of coffee (Php. 1.00), a snack of one pandesal and one cup of coffee (Php. 0.60), lunch (Php. 2.00), rent (Php 2.00), water (Php 0.16), and electricity (Php 0.16). “These don’t include clothing, medicine, entertainment, and other needs of a single worker,” Ambrosio states. “If a worker can accept the minimum of P8.00 in 1976, they can survive and return to work each day on these wages. The problem is that they have to budget for the needs of five others in the household—their spouse and children, never mind a comfortable future which they would like to experience. How can they break apart P8.00 for six people?”

Doesn’t this list reflect the struggles of workers, whose limited budgets must be stretched for themselves and for those they provide for, and due to this deprivation, highlight the need for organized protests? In addition, for example, how can one attribute the long passage of day-to-day conditions and the small acts of rebellion (or, in James C. Scott’s words, “weapons of the weak”) of workers in a factory in Taguig to “institutional” movements? 

“The workers of Top Form Manufacturing, a manufacturer of clothes for export, went on strike several times in the FTI Complex in Taguig, but they didn’t just launch strikes but different types of “operations” in order to achieve their demands. One of these is “Operation Paypay (Handheld Fan)”—because of how hot it was, the workers would all stop working on their sewing machines to fan themselves for five minutes. Both morning and afternoon shift workers would do this several times until the management decided to install coolers. Another is “Operation Kubeta (Washroom).” There were only two washroom stalls in the factory—one for the supervisor and another for 500 workers each shift. At noon, the cleaner would close the stall, preventing the workers from using it. In “Operation Kubeta,” the workers lined up five at a time before noon. The line kept getting longer and longer, so that even the supervisor’s stall had a line-up—during work hours. Because of this, the company hired a full-time cleaner and the washrooms were no longer closed at noon.

The Top Form employees carried out two other operations to get a cooler in the cafeteria. In “Operation Cooler,” they frequented the washroom more often in order to get drinking water inside bottles and glasses from the 16 faucets inside. They did this during work hours. They would then intentionally drop the water on the ground at intervals, so that in a short amount of time, the paths would be drenched with puddles of water and mud. To solve this problem, the management installed a cooler.

With regards to the cafeteria, the workers had long requested management to build a place in which they can eat. But this wasn’t done. Because they lacked a cafeteria, people would eat in the surrounding fields and concrete pathways. Once, as the clock struck noon, not a single worker got up to go outside and eat their lunch. They pulled out their lunches and began eating on top of their sewing machines. When the management saw this, they knew the workers would only repeat it the next day and decided to build a temporary cafeteria, while making arrangements to build a permanent one.”

After he completed his master’s thesis on March 1992, Ambrosio proceeded with his doctorate. On October 1992, he mentioned that he had finished writing about the ethnoastronomy in his Pilipinolohiya 201 class under Prof. Noel V. Teodoro. After a few months, Ambrosio was granted a tenure as a teacher as part of the Department of History. During a meeting on May 26, 1993, Ambrosio, who at the time was Assistant Professor 1, was granted a “transfer to permanent status” effective January 1, 1993.

It is possible that the writing he passed over to his class on October 1992 in Prof. Teodoro’s class was the one that appeared in Diliman Review in 1994. This was titled “Astronomy in the Philippines: Stars and Myths,” and could be said to be the first publication of its kind on ethnoastronomy. At the end of the article, it can be said that Ambrosio was starting to see the possibilities of ethnoastronomy, which he would expound upon in Balatik: his focus on the universe, systems of direction, and the uses of astronomy in weather, seafaring, and meteorology. Two years later, “Wika, Astronomiya, Kultura: Kulturang Pilipino sa mga Katawagang Astronomiko (Language, Astronomy, Culture: Filipino Culture in Astronomy Terms),” was published in Mga Piliping Diskurso sa Wika at Lipunan (Selected Discourses on Language and Society (1996), edited by Pamela C. Cosntantino and Monico M. Atienza. Here, Ambrosio reiterated the need to study indigenous knowledge on astronomy, because according to him, as “educated” Filipinos, “we always start with westernized knowledge.”

From 1995 to 2000, Ambrosio would gather more evidence on the existence of indigenous Filipino astronomy. Whatever he gleaned about ethnographic stars from books and other historical sources was confirmed in his fieldwork in Tawi-tawi. In a footnote in his dissertation, he mentions

“The place I studied wasn’t chosen on purpose. It just so happened that the eclipse on October 1995 passed over Tawi-Tawi and I was able to secure funding from the Office for Research Coordination of UP to observe it. I was able to return to the province on May 1997 concerning Ma. Bernaddete Lorenzo-Abrera’s study on how to build a kumpit (a wooden seacraft used in Southern Philippines) and between March-May 1999 in order to research astronomical knowledge of the Tawi-Tawi, also with the help of ORC. I was able to travel throughout the various islands of the province on May 2000 as a researcher for a book, Tawi-Tawi: The Philippines’ Southernmost Frontier which was written by Dr. Samuel K. Tan and Bona Elisa O. Resurrecion with the support of Cong. Nur G. Jaafar.”

His fieldwork in Tawi-Tawi led to an article, published in the first issue of ADHIKA: Mga Pag-aaral sa Kasaysayang Bayan (VISION: Studies on Histories of the Nation) in 1999. Here, Ambrosio revealed two maps of the skies, which were drawn by two Badjao fishermen in Bongao: Awkasa on October 1995 and Indalhati on April 1999. He also spoke with several other informants, such as Abunawas, Gulam, and Imam Yasin of Sibutu, Sekandal and Jundam of Jolo, Asparman and Imam Ladia of Panglima Sugala, Hadji Talib of South Ubian, Hadji Kendong of Tongehat, Sibutu, Jamrun, and Hadji Hamad of Sanga-Sanga, Jamrun of Mapun, Alpha of Simunul, and Mandangan, who was a Tausug. The wealth of knowledge on ethnoastronomy and ethnoclimatology of the Sama, Badjao, and Tausug were also outlined here, which resembled knowledge from the Teduray, Jama Mapun, Palawan, and Bukidnon. In 2000, Ambrosio finished his report for UP ORC which was titled “Paliyama: Kaalamang Etnoastronomiko sa Tawi-Tawi (Paliyama: Ethnoastronomical Knowledge in Tawi-Tawi),” although this was never published. A part of Tawi-Tawi: The Philippines’ Southernmost Frontier, published in 2000, featured the putikaan, or astrological charts. “The putikaan was consulted for the best times to wed, build houses, travel, and even to carry out a meeting.” Later on, Ambrosio would compare the putikaan of the Tawi-Tawi to the rejang of the Malay and the signosan of the Visayans in Panay. The kutikah or kutikaan of the Yakan, which uses Jawi letters and is in the Bahasa Sug (Tausug) language, is mentioned in another book by Samuel K. Tan, with Munap Hairulla.

Maria Bernaddete L. Abrera once told a story on Ambrosio’s habits:

“When Dante was writing his dissertation, he would bring his backpack inside which he carried a printed draft of the writers he had finished. He was afraid of leaving these in the FC (Faculty Center) or his house, where it might get lost or what. He also had a diskette copy, also inside his backpack. I said if he got robbed at gunpoint, he would still lose them. But there he was, going home carrying that heavy backpack because his chapters were in there.”

On March 2003, he finished the first draft of his dissertation, which was titled “Balatik: The Skies as the Foundation of Philippine Civilization (1582–Present).” Ambrosio defended “Balatik” on April 2, 2003, 1:00 pm, at Palma Hall 109, to a panel consisting of Prof. Teodoro (adviser), Prof. Abrera, and Prof. Nilo S. Ocampo (reader/critic), Prof. Regulus Tantoco, and Prof. Nestor T. Castro (Associate Dean). The dissertation was completed in the same month.

The article version of this dissertation showed up on Philippine Social Sciences Review, as “Balatik: Katutubong Bituin ng Pilipino (Balatik: Ancient Stars of the Filipinos).” This could be considered a sister article to Abrera’s “Bangka, Kaluluwa at Katutubong Paniniwala (Boat, Soul, and Ancient Beliefs),” because both drew attention to the precolonial as the root of civilization and cultural beliefs and behaviours. A section of the dissertation, with the new title of “Kabilugan at Katunawan: Buwan sa Kabihasnang Filipino (Waxing and Waning: the Moon in Filipino Civilization),” appeared in Daluyan on 2006. In the meantime, three of his feature articles, “Mamahi: Stars of Tawi-Tawi” (January 27, 2008), “Balatik and Moroporo: Stars of Philippine Skies (February 03, 2009), and “Bakunawa and Laho: Eclipse and the snake in the sky” (February 08, 2009) appeared in the Philippine Daily Inquirer. Other than the publication in a national newspaper (possibly an attempt to “popularize” history, or public history), these three articles were unique in that they were written in English, which Ambrosio rarely did. In addition to the practice of public history, Ambrosio granted an interview with UP students through an alternative classroom learning experience (ACLE) of UP Astronomical Society on August 14, 2008. The interview was titled “Sinaunang Astronomiya: Ang Langit sa Buhay ng Sinaunang Pilipino (Ancient Astronomy: The Sky in the Lives of the Ancient Filipinos).” On 2010, the University of the Philippines published the dissertation, which is now titled Balatik: Etnoastronomiya: Kalangitan sa Kabihasnang Pilipino (Balatik: Ethnoastronomy: the Skies in Filipino Civilization).

Ambrosio’s work was received with enthusiasm, from its first iteration as dissertation to its book form. In a letter written by Abrera on March 14, 2003 on setting up the defense, he mentions, “This is a new chapter in history and also the ushering of new methodologies on historiography, which will add to the wealth of knowledge and study of ancient civilizations and consciousness.” In a foreword by Ricardo T. Jose, editor of PSSR, he said, “Dr. Ambrosio’s study opens a new world, so to speak, to those who are familiar only with the western names of the stellar bodies, and shows how these have been part of the Filipinos’ world since the earliest times.” In 2021, Wayne Orchiston, etc., mentions, “To date, Balatik is indisputably the most important book ever written on Philippine history of astronomy, the logical starting point for any current and future studies in Philippine ethnoastronomy.”

It can be said that Ambrosio’s Balatik is the first systemized naming and grouping of primary and secondary streams of knowledge on Philippine astronomy. Compared to Indonesia and Malaysia, the study of Indo-Malay ethnoastronomy started earlier. From the 80s to early 2000, one can read work by Fredrik van den Bosch, Gene Ammarell, and Bambang Hidayat. In the case of the Philippines, there were attempts made by Fay-Cooper Cole, Stuart A. Schlegel, Eric S. Casiño, Nicole Revel, and F. Landa Jocano on the study of ethnoastronomy; still, as ethnographic  studies, these focused on particular groups (i.e. Bukidnon, Teduray, Jama Mapun, Palawan, and Tagalog). Ambrosio meticulously put together the data and sources in a diachronic and comparative manner, which apart from the long period of time between each account all contain a wide geographical scope. Ambrosio’s methodology on Philippine ethnoastronomy goes beyond the traditional “nationalist” historiography and a renewed focus on what can be called historical “pan-Philippine.”  In addition, Ambrosio was clear on his position regarding language: he wrote these in Filipino (Tagalog) so that they can first be read by Filipinos, especially those who have “forgotten the ancient sciences.” Which is why, in surveys made by Orchiston and others on the historical studies of astronomy in Asia, they stressed the need to translate Balatik in English so it can be read by foreign scholars.

But after less than a year after Balatik’s publication, Ambrosio fell ill and passed away on June 4, 2011. Known as “Father of Filipino Ethnoastronomy,” Ambrosio was also remembered by his fellow professors and students as a “diligent teacher,” “true friend,” “loving to his family,” “charismatic and humourous,” “calm,” and “a humble person.” His death didn’t diminish his contributions to scholarship. “UP historian Dante L. Ambrosio recently passed away and left us a monumental study on Philippine ethno-astronomy-the knowledge, ideas, beliefs and lore of the country's ethnic groups about the heavenly bodies,” according to linguist Ricardo Ma. Duran Nolasco. “In his book, 'Balatik, Ambrosio demonstrated the richness, breadth and depth of this traditional wisdom. He showed that not only the Tagalogs, Bisayans and Ilocanos contemplated about the sky and its meanings, but so did the Blaans, Maguindanaons, Ifugaos, Tedurays, Jama Mapuns, Kankanaeys, Bukidnons, Kalingas, Tagbanwas, Bontoc Igorots and other marginalized groups.” According to the historian and professor of history Neil Martial R. Santillan, “This [Balatik]served as inspiration to many young professors since the 90s to make significant studies on history outside established practices.” But it is not just “students of history” who were influenced by this, but scholars of other disciplines as well. Linguists and linguistic students cite Balatik in their studies—a few of these include Maria Kristina S. Gallego on the systems of direction on Philippine languages; Ruchie Mark D. Pototanon on the weather and time; and Bea Rose P. Barra, Mario D. Olayres Jr., and Allerah Mejan C. Quinto on the reconstruction of astronomical and meteorological terminologies in Pre-Ibaloi. According to the stories of the Percival F. Almoro, a physicist and professor of physics at UP National Institute of Physics,

“The traditional practice and uses of light in agriculture, as documented in the book Balatik of Prof. Dante Ambrosio, was included here [in the General Education course concerning physics and astronomy]. The indigenous systematic usage of natural phenomenon, especially with regards to stargazing, was outlined in Balatik. I often mentioned it whenever I would begin astronomy classes. Because of this, their interest was piqued and they learned of our longstanding traditions in optics. These aren’t just 20 or 30, but hundreds or even thousands of years of grappling with Mother Nature…

Earlier, I even mentioned our ancestors’ practice of using the stars to figure out when they should clear land or plant. This is a Good example of how deeply developed our knowledge of our surroundings were. This wasn’t brought over by foreigners and is our own. At the thought that if Filipinos of the past were capable of these, students were enthralled and felt up to the challenge of creating and discovering new ideas for our culture that could be of use.”

If one looks at Balatik’s place in the tradition of writing history, it might be appropriate to say that Ambrosio’s departure from the field of labour movements into scientific history is proof of the “ebb of history of labour” and the rise of a “cultural and linguistic twist” in Filipino historiography. Ambrosio once mentioned the commentary from Zeus A. Salazar, his first adviser, that “I’ve been told my studies are too focused on science.” Despite the differences in both fields, we can say that each has a sincere connection to the other, at least as far as Ambrosio was concerned. In fact, concerning Balatik, he said, “Honestly, this is a continuation of what I used for my master’s thesis concerning militant labour movements.” Even in his writings on social and political history, Ambrosio didn’t completely abandon the cultural aspects. One can, for example, compare Ambrosio’s “Sentenaryo ng Kilusang Manggagawa (A Century of Labour Movements)” and “Ang Tradisyon ng Pahayagang Radikal sa Pilipinas (A Tradition of Radical Publications in the Philippines)” to Noel V. Teodoro’s “Radical Philippine Literature, 1907-1934: A Preliminary Study,” because all of these illustrated the convergence of anti-colonial and anti-capitalist work, the proliferation of radical and free thought and consciousness, journalism, literary production, and nationalist theatre productions. Ambrosio also once tackled the contributions of various Leftist forces in “national culture”—in language (e.g. the admittance of vocabularies such as “masses,” “bodong (peace pact),” and “pangat (indigenous elder/leader)”), ethnic music and items, visual arts (particularly in social realism), films, theatre, and literature. In Balatik, one can read Ambrosio’s assimilation of Marxist ideas of “superstructures and economic bases,” not on the widespread livelihood systems (e.g. feudal systems, capitals, etc.), but based on “specific and narrow means of livelihood” such as land clearing and irrigation-based agriculture. According to him,

“Because land clearing is prominent even in today’s times, it can be expected that the traditional views, beliefs, knowledge, and behaviours associated with this have carried over. Along with this are the persistent views, beliefs, knowledge, and behaviours prevalent in irrigation-based agriculture. It might be that because of the passage of time, parts of both may carry outside influence, but it is certain that the unique views, beliefs, and behaviours remain forefront with each.”

Just like Marxist historians like E.P. Thompson who verged on the cultural, Ambrosio’s case is interesting. During his scholarship, we can glean certain threads of influence from other schools of thought. There is, of course, the Marxist tint, intensified by American-style social history; structural methods of sociologists and anthropologists; and the creative approach of writers of annals. With regards to the subject and times (i.e. “1582-present”), one can infer from Ambrosio’s Balatik the convergence of famous concepts of the historian Fernand Braudel, the longue durèe: this is “the history… of humankind and their connection with the environment, history in which change is slow, history which always repeats, in a never-ending cycle.”  The appearance and disappearance of stars and constellations are seasonal, as well as the agricultural and maritime activities which they govern, and in this state, bears almost no mark of the passage of time, those who in figurative terms are “the sturdy backbone of waves on which rides the foam, quickly disappearing and trembling.” In this cyclic spin of life and time, one can barely glimpse the hand of humankind. As Teodoro said, while reading Manuel Arguilla and Carlos Bulosan’s stories from the 1930s which were set in the countryside:

“In Arguilla’s stories, one can feel the many opportunities in which history barely moves, standing still, unmoveable. As if there are no changes especially when you consider the ceaseless connection of humankind to their geographical surroundings: the sun, the moon, clouds, rain, the heavens, soil, hill, river, and sea. This forms the space which feels “permanent” and therefore unchanging, and if it does change, it feels like it will take a long time. One cannot escape the continual connection between humankind to the universe or the whole world, because the world is what brings life to them. In this context, it appears that humankind has no freedom against inescapable weather events, just like Carlos Bulosan’s stories in “The Springtime of My Father.””

From the French historian Fernand Braudel’s perspective, it is as if humankind is imprisoned within a destiny it had not really desired. It is as if it has lost power as the creator of history. It is merely a prisoner. A human who is simply witness and a mere victim to the forces of nature which results in suffering…while in the viewpoint of Emmanuel Le Roy Ladurie, people have lost an important role, the effects of which is insignificant, because in truth, they can’t really change their destiny.”

But Ambrosio didn’t follow the Annales-style of “throwing it out into the universe.” In his Balatik, he patiently insists on the impressive abilities of Filipinos in their diligent use of their surroundings and use it for the service of their communities, as well as the creation of sturdy and profound systems of meaning stemming from natural phenomena. This is clear from the start in the importance of balatik: “What is balatik down on earth before it became Balatik of the heavens? It is a type of trap which is used for hunting by different ethnic groups in the Philippines… This means from the fields and forests, Filipinos raised it to the sky.” As if the naming and marking of objects to the sky was an act of reaching for the fragments of nature they cannot otherwise grasp in their palms. In addition, it is noticeable that Ambrosio didn’t regard people as passive players: “The illustration of the consciousness of the universe was formed with many layers and connections, whole and spiritual, maritime and tropical. [I insist] that the Filipino’s skies is an illustration of this consciousness.”

What we can gather from Balatik is the agency of people to give meaning and significance to their surroundings, and is the roaring argument of Ambrosio’s magnum opus. In his thesis, he mentions

“The militant labour movements during the martial law resembles people who are encased in particular surroundings which mandates and limits forward growth and prosperity… The history of the surge of militant labour movements under martial law conditions is an account of the unceasing determination of people to understand their surroundings, overcome the limits imposed upon them, and carry out the unyielding, noble aspirations which gives meaning to their lives and their humanity. It is testimony that, at the end of the struggles of humankind, despite everything, the formation of our destiny and future also lies in our hands.”

Because of this, it can be said that the “environment” was central to Ambrosio as a historiographical concept. Kilusang Militantenteng Manggagawa (Militant Labour Movements) and Balatik both share the same ideas: if at first, he examines the relationship between people and their surroundings (i.e. the basis of social conditions), he next looks at the connection between the environment (i.e. the natural environment, from the earth to the sky) and humankind or civilization. People and the environment have a “dialectic relationship,” and, in agreement with what can be seen with Ambrosio, there are always actions which people can take in the face of challenges, whether societal or natural.

From this relationship between people and their environment, we can understand even the various anecdotes about Ambrosio. A story from Ma’am Dette (Maria Bernadette L. Abrera) goes, “When he first went, he accompanied me because he didn’t know anybody there. We were living [along with Portia Reyes, Ma’am Dette’s research assistant] in the house of a tukang (skilled craftsman or labourer). There was no electricity in Sibutu, so at night we would tell stories by the sea, the sky was so wide [,] and all the stars [,] can be seen. According to him [,] because there were no lights to encumber our eyesight, only the stars have light. We would walk the entire island because we had no car which was why we lost weight and grew quite tanned.” After some time, Ma’am Dette and Portia Reyes went back home first. Ambrosio was left behind. According to Ma’am Dette, “He didn’t know how to swim but he was going back to Sitangkai without us. I left an estampita (a holy card with a print of a saint) for him, I said I would pray for him. I remember that I even sent money for him via LBC because he went over his budget.” From the background of this type of research, we would return to the idea of “environment”—the environment or community of the first historians, the environment of dreams and the fight to obtain it, the environment which gave birth, no matter if it is only a small piece, to an important chronicle of history.