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To cite this article: Shekinah Dorelle P. Queri (2019): (Dis)playing the indigenous body:
the case of Indigenous Tribal Games (ITG) in the Philippines, Sport in Society, DOI:
10.1080/17430437.2019.1565386
Article views: 3
ABSTRACT KEYWORDS
A project approved by the Philippine Olympic Committee (POC), the Traditional sports;
Indigenous Tribal Games (ITG) advocates for indigenous empowerment indigenous peoples;
through traditional sports. To accomplish this, a requisite for participat- performative identities;
reconstructions;
ing in the ITG is belonging to any indigenous group. Since the audience
disempowerment
includes non-indigenous spectators, bringing indigenous players to the
fore transports the ‘Other’ to the colonizer’s consciousness that the
indigenous player can not only play, but even excel, in Olympic-
patterned sports. This article focuses on two ITG competitions partici-
pated in by 43 Iraya-Mangyan players of Abra de Ilog and Puerto Galera,
Mindoro (2013 and 2014). The findings suggest that ITG enabled a space
for the players’ performative (dis)play. Transgressions through neoco-
lonial impositions were necessary in awakening the players’ indigenous
consciousness. The ITG advocates sought to empower their contested
and tentative performative identities but it has also led to their disem-
powerment; that is, their ‘inclusion’ has unwittingly, yet also forcibly,
‘excluded’ them.
back seat as purchasing food at the local grocery store is more convenient than spending
half a day hunting in the forests for food. At the same time, because of their struggle for
ancestral domain ownership, their indigenous identities as guardians of their natural envi-
ronment are being contested. Because of the mismatch between what they perceive to be
their ‘ideal’ identity (i.e. traditional values passed down through generations) and their
‘performed’ identity, they find their indigenous consciousness as being in flux.
Since the indigenous peoples are one of the most disempowered and least represented
groups in society, sports become a space of resistance that enable them to play out their
troubles (Cherney 2003; O’Rourke 2003). Further compounding the problem of their per-
formative identities, I posit that the ITG, formed in order to advocate for indigenous empow-
erment through playing in the competitions, has inadvertently imposed neocolonial
ideologies on them. The ITG has been the POC’s way of including the indigenous peoples
in sports competitions, albeit (paradoxically) holding separate Games for them that feature
the traditional hunting and foraging techniques of their ancestors as the games events.
Invaluable as the benefits of the ITG are to the indigenous players, a further problematic
develops: that in order to be effective in performing their indigenous identities, their very
doing requires continuous renegotiation and re-inscription of how their traditional values
and wisdom can still be not only relevant, but useful for the present-day IP. There is an
ongoing challenge for the indigenous peoples about ‘going back’, not in the traditional sense
of the word, but in reconstructing their past. This involves crafting new meanings of the
past that is suitable in today’s context and performing the understanding of those meanings.
It is the goal of the ITG that the indigenous players are given a space to perform their tra-
ditional survival skills through play. More importantly, as the ITG is similarly patterned to
the world-renowned Olympics, their play-performance (i.e. through submitting or resisting
to the rules of the ITG) may serve as a means for reintroducing their indigenous identities
to a worldwide audience.
The Olympics are known as the most prestigious sports competition worldwide. With
its motto: faster, higher, stronger, it is here where athletes showcase their skills, where stars
are born. This research looked at the influence of the Olympics to the similarly-patterned
ITG which was exclusively created for indigenous players. With the ITG organizers being
non-indigenous, I explored the possibility of the ITG as a neocolonial manifestation of the
colonizer’s desire to empower the disempowered minority. Thus, this research sought to
answer this general question: How does the ITG (dis)empower the Iraya-Mangyan perfor-
mative identities? Specifically, the following sub-questions were addressed:
1. What is the ITG project, and what are its similarities and differences to the Olympics?
2. How does the ITG serve as a Third Space for (dis)empowering the Iraya-Mangyan
performative identities?
2.1. How does ITG’s resistance to neocolonial characteristics of the Olympics (dis)
empower their performative identities?
2.2. How does ITG’s paradoxical display of neocolonial similarities to the Olympics
(dis)empower their performative identities?
The purpose of this research is to explore the nuances in how a noble advocacy for
empowering the indigenous players can also enable the very same space for their
Sport in Society 3
disempowerment. This can be seen in how I sought to establish hegemonic power play
implicit in the ITG that is reflected in the unwitting commodification of the indigenous
culture. Since this research is grounded on critical performance and postcolonial approach,
resisting finalities and giving rigid, polarized findings are actively avoided. Instead, this
research explored the different possibilities of the ITG being both bane and boon for the
indigenous players.
Using sports as the primary medium may enable the indigenous player a chance for an
‘equalizing’ space in performatively communicating their struggles to the non-indigenous
spectators. As people who live in the margins do not have the privilege of having equal
opportunities for voicing out their sentiments (Conquergood 2004); more so, they have
lesser chances of being heard-much less heeded. Through the largely nonverbal character-
istic of playing in the ITG, their bodily performances become a manifestation of their
identities. By reconstructing the purpose of play and imbuing it with (subversive) potential
Bhabha’s (1994) concept of the Third Space, wherein (re)negotiating a marginalized cultural
group’s values becomes possible in an alternative space, was used.
In order to address the research questions, the following methods were used. First, two
ITG competitions involving the Iraya-Mangyans of Abra de Ilog, Occidental Mindoro
and Puerto Galera, Oriental Mindoro in June 2013 and January 2014, respectively, were
observed. In-depth interviews with three Iraya-Mangyan elders were conducted to better
understand their historical and political contexts and to situate their present struggles
with the non-indigenous people. This was a necessary step in understanding the indige-
nous people and their struggles and contested identities. Furthermore, this contextualized
the performative engagement of the players in the ITG. During the ITG competitions,
non-participant observations were used to grasp the Iraya-Mangyan players’ bodily per-
formance which served as tool for analysis. Immediately following the ITG competition,
interviews were conducted with 43 Iraya-Mangyan players regarding their participation
experiences.
Sports
Viewing sports as purely entertainment is socially-accepted, albeit being a largely damaging
perspective for those engaged in research, as there might seem to be a disconnect in the
possible role of sports in unpacking and interrogating its influences in relation to cultural
identities. The following examples serve as significant resources for learning how traditional
games can serve as spaces for indigenous empowerment: for the youth’s recreational involve-
ment related to sports played by their ancestors (City of Johannesburg: Indigenous games
played 2014); how the Vancouver Games serve as hope for the 630 First Nations torn
between the traditional and the modern (Delacretaz 2009); how the Australian Aboriginals
acknowledge the importance of traditional games in helping the youth and inspiring the
older members of indigenous communities (Korff 2015). Thus, utilizing sports through a
critical paradigm as a means of learning about the hegemonic structures and power play
present in indigenous sports is valuable. Likewise, Coakley (2007) unequivocally stated that
the sports discipline was largely neglected because scholars thought that physical activities
have little to do with significant events in society (e.g. Bale and Cronin 2003). As such, this
research’s focus on the (dis)empowering potential of sports is an important perspective in
articulating the unique role that sports can play in assisting endeavours toward change and
transformation.
Coakley (2007; 28) defined sports as: ‘[the] use of physical skill, prowess, exertion; insti-
tutionalized competition; combination of intrinsic and extrinsic reasons for participation’.
By this definition alone, we can already glean into the politics involved in a seemingly
innocent activity. This definition poses a problem for the disempowered minorities who
may choose to play sports but are overlooked because of their ethnicity – regardless of their
skills. Viewing sports from a critical approach enables us to shift our perspective on sport
from something used purely for entertainment to acknowledging its potential when it is
used as a means for social transformation. Realizing that the majority of the indigenous
people have been relegated to the sides – muted on the margins – with little chances of
effectively bringing their struggles to the foreground by means of just verbally articulating
them. Because of the critical stance of this research, assuming a postcolonial lens becomes
a given. With a focus on the (mis)(re)presentations of the indigenous player, the body
becomes an essential, implicit, and real object of study. The ITG becomes a space for dis-
course; an attempt to make use of sporting events in order to call attention to the muted
athlete-player and its accompanying issues on disenfranchisement and Othering.
Body
I argue that decades of fighting for the ancestral land claims of different indigenous groups
in the Philippines has led to their contested identities and has affected both their verbal
and nonverbal discourses on cultural issues and land sovereignty. I further extend that
issues of disenfranchisement are appropriately expressed in the largely nonverbal sphere of
sports. As such, considering body culture as a paradigm allows for the creative analysis of
the cultural context of the body. Since the Iraya-Mangyan indigenous players display their
cultural knowledge and values through their playing in the ITG competitions, their very
playing becomes performative expressions of how space and the body move and are disci-
plined in and through the physical, spatial, and cultural contexts.
Sport in Society 5
Bourdieu (1990) as cited in Zogry (2010, 16) articulated it well when he said, ‘sport is…
one of the terrains in which is posed with the maximum acuteness the problem of the
relations between theory and practice, and also between language and the body’. This
acknowledges the unique role that sports, and a strategic focus on the body, may play in
enabling the (dis)empowered to perform what they could, in very limited terms, articulate
fully. This reflects the fluidity of sports performance and the body. In allowing them to play
what they could not utter (either by their inability to articulate eloquently or possibly
because they have not fully comprehended the extents of their subjugation as well), they
are enabled an alternative means of participative discourse wherein their indigenous realities
are uncovered and non-indigenous sensitivities are awakened.
Adding an element of creativity is essential in exploring all the possibilities and sources
for understanding and learning about indigenous knowledge, especially as creativity is
explored in the area of sports. According to Bial (2004) ‘where ritual depends on repetition,
play stresses innovation and creativity’ (115). For the purpose of this research, that creativity
will be explored through the different aspects of the ITG; as it not only displays the various
ways the indigenous play in the ITG, but it can also lend understanding on how sports can
be a unique and essential tool that contributes to both their empowerment and disempow-
erment. Because the highlight is not on the ritualistic focus of the Olympics on ‘faster,
stronger, higher’ but on the unique experiences of the indigenous player that includes, but
is not limited to, their play-performance; the ITG offers that alternative space where per-
formative discourse is reconstructed in a fun way.
Space
The concept of space, together with my use of body and performance, are implicated in
each other. Aside from the physical space being a passive object that is inevitably occupied
when the indigenous body performs, space can also play a more active role in the whole
performative process. This is seen by my use of Eichberg’s (1998) definition of the macro-
and micro-scale notions of how space facilitates a performative engagement between the
player and the physical setting where the games take place. He posits that macro-scale has
more to do with the politics that inform the decisions on how one’s consciousness is (re)
negotiated by the multiple identities that one (re)presents and (re)constructs in light of the
struggles and sensitivities they experience contextually. Micro-scale is more concerned with
the individual modes and motivations for performative expression. These scales are useful
for explicating the lived struggles that the players experience as indigenous players situated
in a largely non-indigenous environment, as they struggle against different forms of ridicule
and oppression.
The focus of this research on indigenous peoples and indigenous games may initially
create the impression that this study has little to do with the present and even the future,
except in the simple act of remembering. However, Bhabha’s concept of the Third Space is
especially useful in exploring the different possibilities enabled by the ITG through recon-
struction. His notion of cultural hybridity is more than just the summation of combining
two concepts or events. Instead, what results is something entirely new; it is not just a
by-product of something existing. Since the games categories utilized in the ITG were
originally the survival techniques of the indigenous (bow-and-arrow, javelin, foot race),
the ITG now becomes an example of the Third Space as not just a mere remembering of
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the past but a renewing or ‘refiguring’ of the past in order to make it a relevant cultural act
in the present (Bhabha, 1994, 7).
Although the ITG project has an inclination toward privileging the indigenous, I try to
echo what Kalscheuer (2009) champions as providing an alternative reading wherein the
destabilizing and always reconstructing character of the Third Space guards against per-
petually privileging the indigenous. Furthermore, she argues that Third Space warns
against assuming that after an individual leaves ‘the moment of cultural encounter,’ they
go back to their ‘original culture’ seemingly unaffected (Kalscheuer, 2009, 61). This sup-
ports the performative stance and inclusion of the concept of the body wherein the very
act of doing changes the individual. Ikas and Wagner (2010) further explain that Third
Space enables cultural groups to (re)negotiate their positions where both parties cannot
remain unchanged. Instead, their encounter will result not only to their ‘displacement’, but
will inevitably ‘bring about a common identity…neither the one nor the other’ (Ikas and
Wagner 2010, 19–20).
Type of sports
The unique thrust of the ITG stresses the notion that what is important is not just mere
persistence of tradition but the reinscription of the games through its creative and per-
formative reconstruction. Advocating for the empowerment of the indigenous player is
reflective of Bhabha’s (1994) Third Space wherein it is a going back – not to an original
moment – but to a re-working of the indigenous consciousness as they see fit in today’s
age. The Third Space is not only seen as the un-state the indigenous players find themselves
in after participating in the ITG; the Third Space can also be seen in the ITG event itself.
Despite being organized and controlled by the International Olympic Committee, the
Philippine Olympic Committee has appropriately chosen to utilize traditional survival
skills as using the bow and arrow, javelin, and running as their sports categories for the
ITG; as opposed to the more Western types of sports categories famously seen in
Olympic Games.
Venue
The whole thrust towards the reconstructive and performative elements of this research is
best seen in how the ITG has elected to use the natural setting as their venue. Contrary to
the millions upon millions spent for the well-thought out master plan for each Olympics,
there is no architectural planning that the ITG boasts of. Nor does it want to. Instead, it
proudly strives for minimal disruption of the natural environment; it will seek to reconstruct
the available space instead.
Figure 1 shows how a space normally used for recreation can be (re)created for a different
purpose: from a beach for tanning and swimming to utilizing the rock-turned-into-a-’tree’
as a reconstruction of the treetop event category of the ITG.
Figure 1. Puerto Galera beach; rock formation reconstructed as a ‘tree’ for the treetop event.
Goal
The Iraya-Mangyans are characteristically known as a very timid and shy people whose culture
is jeopardized by modernization (Virola, Inquirer, July 14, 2016; Ethnic Groups of the Philippines,
2018). This notwithstanding, all the players are required to wear the g-string for the whole
duration of the ITG competition. More than just a general discomfort because they are not used
to wearing the g-string, compounding to the problem is the fact that they have to display them-
selves in it while trying to play the different games that they were also largely not used to.
Sport in Society 9
By engaging in the ITG, the players claim that they develop tribal unity and belongingness
not only with players coming from the same tribe, but even with co-competitors who belong
to a different tribe. Some even claim that they have found new friends because of the ITG.
Bringing this further, in the narratives and even in my observations whenever a new ITG
is held, longtime participants who have gotten to know other participants display camara-
derie. According to Raymond Williams (1958) as cited in Giulianotti (2005), a ‘structure
of feeling’ develops from those who share common culture, beliefs, and values. Contrary
to the common notion of strict competition and rivalry, the shared feelings of oppression
in being identified as indigenous and the common experiences shared in participating in
the Games have resulted not just in familiarity, but even kinship with the other participants.
This is reflected in such remarks as, ‘deeper connections were forged between the tribal com-
munity and the LGU (local government units)’ and ‘we were recognized and are learning how
to interact with other people and tribes’.
General mood
Because of the grave importance ascribed to winning in the Olympics, it comes as no sur-
prise that the participants are afforded all means in order for them to give their 100% in
their respective events. The most obvious example is the ‘silence’ that is not just proof of
etiquette, but a necessary prerequisite at the start of each event. Smiling is not normally
seen throughout the duration of the event; the audience only gets to see this whenever an
impossible feat was successfully accomplished.
On the contrary, the whole tenor of an ITG event is an environment that is light, fun to
a fault, somewhat carnivalesque. It could be because the indigenous players do not essentially
devote their whole lives training for that one shot at Olympic glory. For most indigenous
players, laughter that is normally heard at the start of the ITG is one of tentative uncertainty.
Since most first-time players of the ITG have admitted to not growing up practicing the
traditional hunting and foraging techniques of their ancestors, they struggle and fumble
with the archery, javelin, and blowpipe categories. The laughter is also a sign of unease. On
the other hand, the laughter turns boisterous whenever they see a co-competitor struggling
or missing the mark. This is a normal occurrence that I have noticed for most first-time
players in all ITG competitions. This sometimes leads to the players exaggerating their
reactions to their misses, so as to lighten the mood and not to seem too serious. The only
time they seem to truly be having fun that is not at the expense of others is during the foot
race wherein both they and the spectators seem to be in a festive mood in cheering on their
respective bets.
Prize
At the pinnacle of winning, an Olympic athlete considers obtaining the much-coveted gold
medal as the end all of all the years of painstaking hard work. It cannot get any better than
that. On the contrary, for the indigenous player, being awarded a medal, no matter how
pleasant a surprise, dims in comparison to the prize money that they are given as a reward
for their participation. It begs explaining that for most indigenous players, their participation
in the ITG equates to ‘losing’ a day’s earnings as majority of them practice hand-to-mouth
existence (‘no work, no pay’ is a common policy for the blue-collar jobs they find themselves
10 S. D. P. QUERI
in). Because of the daily, lived struggles of the indigenous peoples, they cannot afford to
spend hours training on end for the ITG as they practice subsistence-existence. Hence, in
order to compensate for this, the ITG has decided to ‘award’ them prize money, win or lose.
Depending on the available funding and the number of participants present, the first placer
normally gets awarded P500 ($10), P400 ($8) for the second placer, and P300 ($6) for the
third placer. In keeping with the goal of valuing empowerment above all else, each play-
er-participant is given P100 (roughly $2) as a form of compensation and award simply for
joining the ITG. This primarily, but also coupled with the medal, brings the most grateful
smiles from the players. It is a humbling reality that non-indigenous spectators have to
grapple with: the material rewards the players get are not for fulfilling self-actualization
needs; the indigenous players’ most basic needs are not always secured, and awarding them
with these somehow gives that semblance.
No ITG competition has ever concluded without the serving of lunch. ‘Boodle fight’
composed of rice, pansit (a type of Filipino local spaghetti), and one viand is the common
lunch setting. This is done in order to strengthen the camaraderie between the different
indigenous groups even after the awarding ceremony. I hope to have shown in this part
how real the struggle for survival is for these players. With these, the ITG does not only
become a space for them to be empowered; interestingly, it is also here where they are
physically strengthened – where the basic needs of earning and eating are met – even just
for a day.
disempowering potentials of the ITG for the indigenous players, I explore these messy,
confounding, and even sometimes contradictory characteristics on display.
Figure 2. ITG organizers placed a ladder since the players had a hard time climbing without one.
12 S. D. P. QUERI
The ITG enables communitas in the margins: these feelings of kinship and community
take on a deeper meaning as it is shared by people with similar experiences of subjugation.
Aside from having the indigenous as the subject of the sports advocacy, the ITG works as
Third Space which enables both the creation and recreation of identities. It liberates from
constraints. But does it really? If in order for a player to compete he needs to wear the
g-string, is it not constraining in itself? It probably is, since most indigenous players do not
normally wear the g-string in their daily affairs anymore. This is clearly seen in how unac-
customed they are to wearing the g-string in Figure 3. According to an Iraya-Mangyan
elder, ‘the younger generations have changed already because they started to go to school.
Their outfits have changed as a result. Before, we wear our g-string, but now they seem to be
ashamed to wear it because it is not something that they see often. They are ashamed because
they did not grow up wearing it’. On the other hand, if it is in wearing the g-string that they
would get a chance to experience being a different kind of IP (an IP who is celebrated for
wearing the g-string, instead of being stigmatized by it) then, if their answers would be
believed, it is worth it. The wearing of the g-string is a ‘small price to pay’ for the heightened
cultural consciousness that they get from it.
By giving (un)due importance to wearing cultural clothing, is the ITG running the risk
of feeding a worldview to the indigenous players that they do not even adhere to? Is the
desire to ‘bring back’ their cultural consciousness a futile effort of trying to reminisce the
elusive concept of cultural authenticity? In forcing them to act in a ‘more’ indigenous man-
ner, will the ITG be found guilty of imposing a culture foreign to the indigenous, at least
insofar as comparing it to their upbringing?
A further problematic seen here is the abovementioned reference of the indigenous
identity as being dictated upon by the non-indigenous colonizer (the ITG organizers and
even the local non-indigenous peoples who also serve as spectators in the ITG events). In
Figure 3. Iraya-Mangyan (Abra de Ilog) first time players apprehensive of wearing the g-string alone;
shorts and undergarment were still worn by most of them.
Sport in Society 13
deciding what ‘kind’ of idea(l) identity the indigenous ‘should’ have, what is then negotiated
is something that has been originally tampered with by the colonizer – not what the indig-
enous player actually wants.
If the indigenous player is made to wear the g-string, which almost all of them feel uncom-
fortable wearing because they only wear those during rare occasions, then the opportunity
for becoming the celebrity turns into a spectacle. Hegemonic power play is then reflected in
the imposition of the rules of the game as it does two things: first, the colonizer dictates on
the clothing rule regardless of the players’ feelings; second, the players are pressured to con-
formity and homogeneity to the ‘set standards’ since the others have already followed suit.
If professional athletes are able to wear clothes that they are comfortable in, so should
the indigenous player. Instead, because the organizers are bent on the idea(l) that to be
‘truly’ indigenous one had to wear the g-string while playing (see Figure 4), then the players
are forced to wear a costume – something that, although is meant to ‘empower’ them by
making them look more indigenous, does quite the opposite. In forcing them to fit the mold
of the expectation of how indigenous one must be, the rules meant to give structure have
instead served as a stricture not only on their movements but consequently, in how it can
influence their identities as well.
Figure 4. Iraya-Mangyan (Puerto Galera) first time players apprehensive of wearing the g-string alone;
players trying hard to cover their backside as the strong winds expose it.
14 S. D. P. QUERI
consciousness. Since majority of them joined the ITG for the first time, their newfound
appreciation for the sport has led them to have better perception of what being indigenous
means. This is reflected in statements such as ‘[the ITG has brought] recognition that I am
an IP’, ‘I became proud to be recognized as an IP’. An interesting paradox can be seen here:
despite the disempowering mechanism brought about by neocolonial imposition of the
indigenous idea(l), the players’ bodily performance in the ITG brought about a re-working
of the indigenous performative identity. Instead of simply being embarrassed and letting it
hinder their participation in the ITG, they learned to adapt and focus on the playing- and
this has resulted to their appreciation of the Games.
Coupled with the prestige afforded to them as indigenous athletes, and the newfound
communitas with their indigenous in-groups and out-groups, the indigenous player has
started to create a newly empowered indigenous player identity. This can be gleaned from
such remarks as, ‘[we] are learning how to interact with other people and tribes’, ‘[as] IP, [we]
learned how to present [our]selves to others’. Their experiences of subjugation coming from
the non-indigenous out-group are something that can now be contested and renegotiated.
Because of this, the appeal for an enduring collective consciousness rings louder as the
tendency to simply forget in light of the pressures of the everyday struggle rings truer. They
were given an opportunity to play despite their troubles. It can be viewed as a temporary
cessation of their daily, lived struggles in order to engage in the Games. But is it possible
that what they are doing is also a playing out of their troubles?
In watching their performances in the Games, their playing is not mere playing alone,
but a behavioural performance-struggle of their powerlessness to improve on, much less
articulate, their cultural survival stories. For the spectators, it becomes apparent as one
observes (especially the first-time players) that indeed, they are struggling to ‘own’ their
playing. Because of this, ‘playing’ the games is not merely play; instead, the doing of tradi-
tional games becomes an expression of the indigenous players’ performative discourse (‘I
found out that there are a lot more tribal games to be learned because this has something to
do with our past’). From the lack of skills of the players who have forgotten (or never even
learned) traditional survival skills through javelin and archery, to the verbal articulation of
the heartfelt pleas as a legitimizing voice in issues of cultural sovereignty, the ITG becomes
a platform for these varying discourses. This is echoed in statements such as ‘Heightened
consciousness as indigenous peoples’, ‘When I found out that there are a lot of talented IPs,
and we will improve our skills’. By their participation, the indigenous players are able to
renegotiate their identities and express them to the spectator-audience. More than this, from
their accounts, there could be gleaned a sense of confidence and hope in being indigenous.
This creative reconstruction is seen in the ITG (dis)play, where the IP learns how to play
‘better’ in a fun way. Carlson (2004, 152) notes that ‘[p]erformativity…[is] an activity that
allows the operation of improvisatory experimentation based on the perceived needs and
felt desires of the unique situation’. This is seen in how the players learn to adjust their
stances and body movement in order to create better shots. As they become more familiar
with the experience, they tend to involve more experimentation in their techniques (and
getting higher scores in the process). For the more seasoned players, the games take on a
more competitive stance as it becomes an opportunity for them to display their prowess
and superiority. Through this, it became apparent to us long-time observers that the indig-
enous players seem to have that natural ‘knack’ for playing archery and javelin, becoming
better at the sport with more practice.
Sport in Society 15
In allowing for a (re)constructive manner of playing the Games, there is the acknowl-
edgement that there is no one way of doing things; that in the very act of deciding how to
position the body for maximum points, alternative performance takes place. Because ‘iden-
tities and experiences are inherently embodied’ (Coakley 2007, 22), the indigenous player’s
participation in the ITG influences their bodily responses in improvising and reconstructing
established ways of doing.
Directly contrasting the nonverbal stance of the first-time players to that of the veterans,
the latter’s confidence becomes apparent as one observes them in Figure 5. With legs
askance, posture more erect, clapping their hands in a more levelled manner, seeing them
in their g-string all throughout the awarding ceremony, we are given the impression that
they seem to be more comfortable in their own skin, literally. This image seems to send the
message that these players on the right are able to use clothing to counter the implied sub-
ordination that inevitably occurs when the indigenous seems to be on display for the non-in-
digenous audience’s ‘consumption’; from being a source of ridicule, to being a source of
pride—in the ITG. Here, the veteran players have had the opportunity to change back to
the more modern clothing instead of wearing the g-string, but they were the ones who
chose not to wear it. Being more ‘veteran’ as compared to the first-timers on the left, I believe
this shows the enabling space of the ITG. It allowed the players to practice the performativity
of their indigenous identity by joining events that showcased their indigeneity.
Despite seeming like a fixed event, Bial (2004) notes that a performance is ‘actually an
ongoing sequence that may involve the entire performance process’ (15). That is why the
ITG finds significance as a reiterative event, from practicing their skills in the different ITG
events, to the actual competition, lasting even after the event has ended. My interviews with
ITG players who have joined several times in the ITG events never fail to share how they
are changed whenever they join the ITG – especially as they are considered as celebrities
Figure 5. Stark contrast between the veteran players (right) versus the first timers (left), as seen in their
stance, performance in the Games, and how they wear their g-string.
16 S. D. P. QUERI
in their own communities and families (each participant is handed a medal, win or lose).
The ITG is not a punctuated event; the ‘rippling effects’ of the event have started long before
the actual games started. For the longest time, the indigenous peoples have been voicing
out their collective struggles on environmental and cultural sovereignty over ancestral lands,
and other forms of oppression. These longstanding experiences of subjugation have influ-
enced how the indigenous players communicate their struggles. Their desperation to be
considered as a legitimate voice materialized with the help of the ITG.
There are possibilities for unwittingly (dis)empowering the indigenous player simply by
reframing them in a supposedly traditional and uncomplicated light – one void of nuances
and contradictions commonly found in hybrid identities. The cultural presentations that
follow after the competition proper and their wearing of g-string are prime examples of
how, in the desire to display the indigenous cultures to the non-indigenous to serve as an
equalizing force in celebrating them, the indigenous is inadvertently placed in a ‘box’. In
asking them to perform part of their culture, that ‘part’ – however small – becomes the
standard to which we hold them accountable: act the part or be accused of not acting the
part out ‘well enough’.
It seems that no matter how noble the intention, one cannot hope to destabilize dominant
positionalities if the colonizers (ITG organizers) are the one calling all the shots in all aspects
of the ITG event. On the other hand, those who have just joined for the first-time display
uncertainty and a general sense of shame, as seen in their slouched posture, averted gaze,
and awkward movements. Here, clothing is not mere clothing. It is not for expression, but
a series of transgressions. First, it transgresses the individual’s sense of appropriateness by
forcing itself into the physicality of the playing individual. Next, it transgresses natural
movement by restricting the player’s kinesics; instead of utilizing gestures for maximum
results, attention is divided to account for the shifting and displaced g-strings whenever
sudden and wide movements are made. Third, it transgresses indigenous consciousness.
Instead of being defined in terms of their skills, they are unwittingly made to realize that
they are only able to become players by virtue of their being indigenous. An implicit claim
is made: the very discomfort caused by magnifying their indigenous characteristic is their
claim to fame. Because of these transgressions brought about by their playing bodies, the
indigenous player is confronted with the reality of being indigenous. These transgressions
are possibilities for positive change (see Giulianotti [2005, 118] on this subject).
actions in the context of the present. In using modern target boards instead of live game,
in creating their own bow-and-arrow, in simulating the experience of hunting in green
spaces with vast fields – locations that are proxemically nearer to the towns instead of sit-
uating the ITG deep within the forests, the players are given the opportunity to reconstruct
their past in the context of the present. The ITG aims to empower the players not by letting
them live in the past, but by enabling them to contemporize their past as is applicable in
today’s context. On the other hand, and in the same vein, the ITG’s concept of the IP idea(l)
constrains the IP from being allowed to wear their modern clothing in the ITG because
they want to highlight the indigeneity of the indigenous player.
In the (dis)play, the IP learns about their cultural consciousness through a fun approach.
Rather than ‘feeding knowledge’ that is foreign both in theory and practice to them, the
ITG acknowledges man as homo ludens. In their playing, they get to personally reflect on
the cultural practices and knowledge of their forefathers; but more than that, the indigenous
player has the chance to be self-reflexive in trying to appropriate this knowledge in how
they play the games. It being their first time to join, the ITG is approached with less seri-
ousness and with more fun. The material(izing) benefits they get from the ITG (dis)play
serves as a metaphorical reality slap that forces the discourse between the IP ‘ideal’ and the
IP ‘real’, as it betrays a romanticized notion of the IP as living beyond the trivialities of
everyday life. This jostling in-between becomes the Third Space that must not necessitate
seeing their excitement in receiving perks and applause as a questioning of their indigenous
values; instead, it must be seen as (re)new(ing) identities.
Lorde (1984) states that, ‘[t]he master’s tools will not dismantle the master’s house.’ Being
‘indigenous’ is a pre-requisite in order to qualify as player-participant in the ITG. Bringing
them to the fore opens up the space for the colonizer’s consciousness that there are ‘others’
that exist; that they must be given a voice- they must be heard. If it takes labelling them as
indigenous in order to concretize their existence, then so be it. If they must be seen as
indigenous as their identity, then I have succeeded in opening up the space for the negoti-
ation of their other identities. As Bhabha (1994) has said, it is a myth that language is the
vessel that encapsulates identity. The mere fact that the IPs are known as indigenous peoples
is merely stating a fact; subjugation is an external force that may be controlled by the indi-
vidual. As such, the ITG project seeks to empower them internally in order for external
degradation to be managed more effectively.
Allowing the indigenous to play ‘remnants’ of their cultural past without enabling them
a voice to articulate their present struggles can be construed as a hypocritical example of
lip service empowerment. What they need is the opportunity to be on a level playing field
that would allow for their political struggles not only to be articulated (verbally or through
bodily performances) but to be translated into heeded action as well. Ron Eyerman put it
well when he said that ‘…a movement must…express common grievance and communicate
discontent, to protest and in the best case to effect changes in attitudes and practices of
those inside and outside the ‘movement’. When the latter occurs, society itself may be said
to have “moved”’ (2006, 194).
With their IP consciousness being relegated to the sidelines incessantly, it comes as no
surprise that the very demeanour of the IP is one of disempowerment. Crucial to curbing
this mindset is in adapting a performative stance that engages the indigenous player in the
very act of doing something to either express or achieve more appropriate identities as they
perceive it. In turn, this will hopefully result in performativities that they are perpetually
18 S. D. P. QUERI
re-inscribing; for identities that are always (re)new(ing). The ITG aims to open up a space
that enables the marginalized to perform what being indigenous means to them. Living in
the interstices, the indigenous player is afforded a multi-platform space for expressing their
struggles; from being limited to voicing them out, to performatively engaging themselves
and their spectators in a fluid yet equally tensive display- and interplay- of movements that
may speak louder than the words that they actually say. Because performance views culture
as ever reconstructing, using critical sports performance has greatly constrained me against
making conclusive claims especially regarding the performative identities of these indige-
nous players. Because resisting, not concluding, is the name of the game, there is always
the reminder that performance ‘resists the sort of definitions, boundaries, and limits so
useful to traditional academic writing’ (Carlson 2004, 206–207).
At the end of the Games, the IP seems to have had a shift in their personalities. From
starting out as shy, reserved IPs who acted uncomfortably (especially when they were
required to wear their g-strings already) to becoming delighted, confident IPs in their own
skin, the indigenous players have found that space that enabled them to take pride in their
indigeneity. Ideally, the ITG seeks to continue organizing these events in order to lend
continuity to what was started. But because of financial constraints (and the fact that the
more mainstream Games are preferred and prioritized by the funding bodies), the ITG
project has very limited opportunities to further this advocacy. As such, the player is left
to himself to continue ‘becoming an IP’. A challenge that seems all the more real as the IP
engages the other in negotiating his performative identity.
Further, a realistic problem that the indigenous players face is the shift back to their
‘ordinary lives: from being tagged as ‘instant celebrities’ by the non- indigenous during the
ITG, to being labelled as ‘scorned IP’ by the non-indigenous after the ITG event has already
concluded. This is something that the indigenous player has to deal with as they try to (re)
negotiate these newfound identities in their everyday.
The relevance of ITG extends far beyond the event itself, especially for the players.
Significant as the change is regarding their cultural consciousness, these are mere ascents
if unaccompanied by action. Through the remembrance of their victories, and even of their
losses, the players are motivated to perform better for the next ITG competition. The sub-
stance of the Games has continuing effects- what I like to call ‘ripple effects’ – that commits
itself to the episodic memory of the players as they continue to re-live their personal expe-
rience not only in their minds, but in their bodies as well. For a lot of the players, the past
becomes a means for them to give life to their newfound cultural consciousness through
sports. They re-perform the games by practicing, modifying their techniques; in essence,
they are re-defining their player-identities through performativity. Because they only get
to perform their contestations from the margins, am I making an implicit claim that that
is the only space where they can negotiate their identities? Is the ‘alternative’ performative
space the only space where they will ‘fit’? But, is this not better than not having any-
thing at all?
Is being an IP a requisite for them to be given a voice? In all of these going back and
forth, the tensions and un-finalities, I find that, at the very least, the indigenous players’
responses must be taken into account for what it is. As a researcher who banners for the
empowerment of the indigenous, I have to start somewhere; regardless if conclusions and
counter-arguments abound. Being the object of the case study, I feel the need to go back
to one of the major thrusts of the ITG: indigenous empowerment through sports. The ITG
Sport in Society 19
requisite in joining the Games is on the indigeneity of the player in order to be able to
focus on celebrating the indigenous and their (un)skills because of the dwindling rate of
their cultural vitality. As seen in the results of the surveys and interviews, the indigenous
players, most especially the first-timers, have highly appreciated being able to play in the
ITG. In grounding this research in their lived struggles, I hope to have provided a legitimate
baseline in understanding that the urgent need to empower the indigenous peoples must
come from somewhere. It must come from the margins, because that is where they
are found.
Disclosure statement
No potential conflict of interest was reported by the authors.
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