Jolo, Land of the Moros (1934)

Traveling from Manila to Holo, which is about 500 miles from the capital city, we anticipate an interesting excursion, for although Holo is the largest island in the southern Philippine archipelago, it is the most primitive. Coming to the city gate early in the morning, we come upon a sleeping holo, whose inhabitants have not set out for the pearl fisheries, their main occupation. All high-class residents live in buildings such as these, which, as you notice, start at about the second or third floor. The plants that hang on the verandas are orchids. They grow in great profusion in Holo, and the natives use them as ivy. This boy looks happy and chews as peacefully as the most contented cow. Betel nut might not be good for the digestion, but the natives love it. Prepared from tobacco leaf, betel nut, sap from the Singapore tree, and tamboyan leaf, this holo delight is guaranteed not to whiten the teeth, but to stain them a dark, almost black red. Our guide and sponsor in Holo, Mrs. Judith Shuck, a native female diplomat whose praises are sung throughout the whole island. Mrs. Shuck exerts more influence over the inhabitants of Holo than any other one person. In fact, she has quelled serious uprisings when the Sultan of Sulu himself has failed. Mrs. Shuck was born in Holo, is half Moro and half Arabian. Her husband is half Moro, half German. One of the youngest Datus on the island is an early morning caller. A Datu is a tribal chieftain. This one has brought his latest acquisition to display for the lady's approval. This Bolo is a splendid example of primitive, yet perfect craftsmanship. Made of Damascus steel, it is ground to such a keen edge that one well-aimed swoop could sever a man's torso. These Datus are mean cut-ups when they get started. His Royal Highness, the Sultan of Sulu, he makes his home in Holo and is the political and religious ruler supreme over more than half a million Mohammedans. Polygamy is practiced in Sulu, but the Sultan has stopped practicing. He's perfect at it now. Until recently, the Sultan received an annual salary from the United States government and as a senator in the Philippine legislature. He gets a fat piece of change each year from England as head of the Mohammedan church in Borneo. Spain used to pay him a racketeer's dole for protection against Sulu pirates. This is not a Holo tenement house. It's a royal residence, the palace of the Sultan of Sulu, a dirty, unkempt, ill-smelling wood-framed house. That is where the Sultan lives. It might be a palace to the Sultan, but it's just a dump to us. Allow us to introduce Governor Fugate, executive of the province of Sulu. He is the only white man who speaks Moro fluently and he knows many of the dialects used by his charges. Today is a busy one for Governor Fugate. For Vice Governor Hayden of the Philippines is in Holo on his annual inspection of the island. Hayden's chief job on this tour is the inspection of sanitary conditions. And that's a real snap since there is no sanitation in Holo. While Hayden and Fugate talk things over, the Sultan decides to put in his two cents worth. So the boys get together for a conference. Reading from left to right, Superintendent of Schools Chapman, Vice Governor Hayden, Governor Fugate, and the Sultan of Sulu. The Sultan, by the way, speaks no English and he can neither read nor write his own language. Here we meet Haji Osman, a Mohammedan wise man. That thing he's wearing isn't a freshman cap, but a mark of distinction for his pilgrimage to Mecca. We asked Haji if he were married and he nodded vigorously and held up five fingers. We thought he wanted to drink a whiskey, but our interpreter informed us that he meant he had five wives. Not bad for an old man. Another datu. He's borrowed the Sultan's pistol for this picture. Here comes his daughter. She asks him if she can have some money to buy a new sarong. But he tells her it's all sarong and not the time to ask for it. Can't you see gal pops having his picture taken. Scat, says the datu, and he scrolls over trying to hog the camera. A whole old marketplace. It looks like the natives go in for pushcock peddling. All the perfumes of Araby couldn't sweeten this vile smelling bazaar. Unless you've got a great yen for dried fish, you wouldn't work up an appetite around here under any circumstances. These prisoners are doing their road work, not training to run away, but just rebuilding the city streets. All of these convicts are murderers, but they'll be out of the pen soon. But the maximum penalty for murder in Holo is five years. The Sulu Constabulary makes his headquarters in this fine building. The barracks are the best living quarters on the island. And despite the fact that Sulu is overrun with colorful plants and trees, the Constabulary gardens boast the only landscaped garden in the entire province. It is said that these gardens are planted with the favorite flowers of the Infanta Isabella of Spain. School's out and the kids are having a gay time. School wouldn't matter, however, for there is no compulsory education. Although the United States has set up a school system that functions in a haphazard fashion dependent upon whether the children want to go to school or not. Muhammad and priests spend their days at the mosque praying endlessly. Now that dusk is beginning to gather, this disciple of Muhammad leaves for his nearby home. He is joined by other priests and hajis. This is the first picture ever taken of Muhammad and priests and wise men in Sulu. And they watch the camera with wary and suspicious eyes. When the late ex-president William Howard Taft was governor general of the Philippines, he tried to establish a national unity in the islands through the medium of a national hero, a George Washington of the islands. Dr. Jose Rizal, depicted in this monument, was a staunch leader in the Philippine fight for independence. He was executed by the Spaniards December 30th, 1898 for his conspiracies, and that date, Rizal Day, is widely celebrated throughout the islands. Leaving the Rizal statue, we traveled out of the city. At the end of the jungle, we found this simple Catholic church built here to isolate its worshipers from the prying eyes and deadly swords of the morrow. It is a frail building, and it has been destroyed countless times during the hurricane and typhoon season. Each time it's devoted followers hastily rebuild it, and services and masses are held with no interruption. The altar of this jungle church is crude and simple, but the Blessed Virgin looks down from above it to watch over her faithful flock. Back in the city of Holo, we visited the only other church on the island. Unlike the imposing structure in the jungle, this church stands wide and strong in the heart of the city. Safe from morrow attacks because of its propinquity to the home of Governor Fugate. A typhoon took its toll from this edifice, too, for it was completely demolished in 1880. A miracle, say the faithful, kept the altar intact, and the rebuilding was immediately begun. Close by the church of La Virgen del Carmen dwell two priests, living in absolute seclusion within the confines of this monastery. Padre Domingo Pérez, from Aragon, Spain. He came to Holo many years ago to bring the faith of Christianity to the natives. He never leaves the confines of the monastery. His small road and hemmed-in boundary are not freedom as we know it, but Padre Pérez has a greater scope and wider path to travel, for his is the path of happiness, the endless trail of the peaceful heart.