These children are Ati, a Negrito ethnic group in the central Visayan islands in the Philippines. Ati are the aborigines of the islands, most likely arriving from Borneo 20-30,000 years ago on simple dugout canoes called "balangaysbalangays."
There are few beggars on Boracay island, but almost all of them are Ati – wives and children (I don’t think I’ve ever see grown Ati men) who sit out on cardboard asking for alms from the tourists in flimsy paper cups. They sleep out on the sand or on the side of the street, and an industrious soul might try to hawk cheap bracelets. This island once belonged to them.
I passed these kids on the sand path paralleling White Sand beach tonight, on my way back from a steak dinner with German friends. I stopped and bought them ice cream cones. They were not impressed. They did not show appreciation or say thank you or express interest in any interaction at all. Only one would reveal his name, Marco, and they were reluctant to even look me in the eye.
There are few beggars on Boracay island, but almost all of them are Ati – wives and children (I don’t think I’ve ever see grown Ati men) who sit out on cardboard asking for alms from the tourists in flimsy paper cups. They sleep out on the sand or on the side of the street, and an industrious soul might try to hawk cheap bracelets. This island once belonged to them.
I passed these kids on the sand path paralleling White Sand beach tonight, on my way back from a steak dinner with German friends. I stopped and bought them ice cream cones. They were not impressed. They did not show appreciation or say thank you or express interest in any interaction at all. Only one would reveal his name, Marco, and they were reluctant to even look me in the eye.
That is not their fault, I remind myself, and I shouldn’t judge them by my privileged Western perspective. These kids barely exist, living in the shadows, marginalized by society and facing such severe discrimination that they don’t even count as citizens. Their black skin stands in stark contrast, both literally and metaphorically, against the powder white sands of the island of Boracay, considered one of the best in the world and a prized international tourist destination. Yet few realize that it was the ancestral homeland of these same Ati, who have been pushed out from their own land by the modern machines of profit and tourism. There are over a million tourists every year but only about 200 surviving Ati on Boracay. Their language has almost died out and only a few elders practice their original religion, a form of animism with good and evil spirits, natural forces that guard rivers, the sea, sky, and mountains.
There are no jobs for them. Few can integrate into modern society. There is no education and little health care, and the only social safety net comes from Ati relief and charitable organizations, like the Assisi Foundation and the Daughters of Charity. Even though there has been renewed government and civic interest in reviving the Ati culture, it is not enough. Only about 25% of Ati are even literate. Their plight is similar to Native Americans in the United States and Aboriginal tribes in Australia, who are considered the most ancient culture on earth. When we turn a blind eye to their plight, we discard some of the most revered and anthropologically rich human beings on the planet.
There are no jobs for them. Few can integrate into modern society. There is no education and little health care, and the only social safety net comes from Ati relief and charitable organizations, like the Assisi Foundation and the Daughters of Charity. Even though there has been renewed government and civic interest in reviving the Ati culture, it is not enough. Only about 25% of Ati are even literate. Their plight is similar to Native Americans in the United States and Aboriginal tribes in Australia, who are considered the most ancient culture on earth. When we turn a blind eye to their plight, we discard some of the most revered and anthropologically rich human beings on the planet.
I don’t even know where to begin helping them. Certainly buying disenfranchised kids ice cream cones is not the answer, and I realize that's far more a token of my own sense of philanthropy than it is tangible amnesty for them. But I will ask some local friends and make sure you know, too, in case you want to get involved. In the mean time, check out this great article I found about the Ati on Boracay.
Or please email me if you'd like me to make a direct donation to these Ati women and children I pass by every day, but who don't go without my notice and respect.
Or please email me if you'd like me to make a direct donation to these Ati women and children I pass by every day, but who don't go without my notice and respect.
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