Kamayan and Sacred Connection
On life-supporting culture vs. hyper-individualism
This year, for her 10th birthday, D asked for a traditional Filipino kamayan meal to enjoy with our little family.
If you look up the English translation of the Tagalog word “kamayan” online, you’ll find responses like:
- “with the hands”
- “by hands”
... because the word “kamay” generally means “hand” in Tagalog.
However, digging into the deeper meaning of kamayan offers a glimpse into the roots of the culture as it existed prior to the invasion and colonization by the Spanish.
Before I proceed, I want to point out that “kamayan” is one Tagalog word. Tagalog is one language of over 150 different languages spoken across the 7,000 islands of the Philippines. The Tagalog people are only one of over 100 ethnolinguistic groups on the islands. The perspective / understanding I’m highlighting here does not and cannot possibly apply to the entire country, so I invite you to create space in your consciousness for the existence of the varied, multi-faceted perspectives and philosophies of Filipinos in the Philippines and in the diaspora.
Now, back to the topic…
In Tagalog, the “ka” prefix in “kamayan“ is a word that points to relationship and interconnectedness.
On Instagram, writer and speaker Jason Vitug writes:
“Here’s something beautiful. ‘Ka’ is a word that signifies unity, sameness – a union that refers to any kind of relationship with everyone & everything.
Kaarawan [birthday] – Birth as the unity of spirit & body.
Kainan [dining area / to eat] – the food we eat is part of us and we are part of it. Our connection to nature gives us the food we eat.
Kamayan [to eat with hands] – my hands are mine by they are also yours. It is important I use it to serve me and help others.”
When I think about eating kamayan, I don’t think of just eating with my hands. I think of community food and a community table. I think of devotion to and sacred connection with my kin. I think of the deep understanding in my heart that what exists as nourishment on this planet – air, water, food - is for us all. I think of generosity, and abundance, and community care, and belonging.
Professor Felipe De Leon, Jr., former chairman of the National Commission of Culture and the Arts and historian in the Philippines, expresses it so elegantly in this video by The Filipino Story:
“The Philippines has been so bountiful. Mother Nature is so kind to the Filipino. And having lived in this environment for a long, long time, Filipinos developed a motherly kind of culture. A sharing culture, like that of the mother…
That’s why, for example, when you chance upon families having dinner, you will always be invited to share the dinner with them. You may enter the house even if you do not know anybody, even if you’re not invited. You enter any house where there is food.
This is really a culture of sharing.
And as I said earlier, this is a motherly culture because the mother would like to bring her children together and share the goodness of life.
Now, about that word “culture.” I believe in the concept of culture as spoken about by the wonderful Tad Hargrave, author of the On Culture Work blog here on Substack.
He often defines culture in the way his dear friend Kikisimo Iskwew learned it from an elder she studied with who says that “culture [is] a set of instructions for living on the land in a good way. A particular piece of land.”
“Culture makes people healthy, happy, and strong. Civilization makes us sick and weak and unhealthy.”
In the U.S., settlers have developed a civilization, not a life-supporting, generative culture.
Despite my challenging upbringing and the dysfunctional and contradictory habits of my immediate family, I saw this philosophy expressed clearly in the presence of my grandparents even as we lived in the U.S. Generosity lived in their presence.
There was always room, always space, always enough food because it didn’t all just belong to us. Food was meant for all who are hungry. Mother Earth provides for us all, and it’s our great blessing to share. I remember this, not just in my memories but in my bones – this sacred connection between land and food and people. This is kamayan to me.
However, as Tad often mentions in his interviews, culture is related to land. It is related to place. If you live in a place and are able to leave that place at any time for any reason, if the exit sign is always on, it is unlikely that you live in a culture.
My ancestors lived on islands. My ancestral mothers, starting with my maternal grandmother back to when the Spanish arrived, were all born in the Ilocos Sur region of Northern Luzon.
They knew that the people they were born to, their family and friends and neighbors, were the people they were going to spend the rest of their lives with. It was in their best interest to develop culture to share the land and exist in some level of harmony with one another so they did the hard and necessary work of growing a culture.
In contrast, I live in a predominantly white area of the United States where caring for one another is radical act on one end and insulting on the other.
Radical because most people in the U.S. can’t imagine a post- or pre-capitalist society where care is offered freely and our security isn’t reliant on our ability to pay for our basic needs. On this end of the spectrum, sharing and generosity is acceptable, but it’s also shocking and uncomfortable.
On the other end, it’s insulting because of the hyper-individualistic ideology that convinces us that not being able to support ourselves fully (financially, emotionally, and otherwise) is a personal and shameful failure. Making an offering of goodness results in immediate resistance – “what, you think I can’t do it / get it / achieve it myself? Are you saying I’m not good / strong / smart enough!?!? I’m offended!!!”
The recent cuts to Medicaid and SNAP in the U.S. are such an obvious and glaring example of the lack of life-supporting culture here.
I watched a video on social media of an elected official say, in response to criticism about the Medicare and SNAP cuts, something like, “I don’t think it’s our responsibility to care for other people.”
To watch so many people in this country hurt one another out of bias and greed feels like the death of a cultural heritage I love so deeply. In this environment, the spirit of the Tagalog prefix “ka” is an impossible thing to express, let alone maintain.
And yet, I keep trying. I still model it for my kids. I still teach it to them. I cultivate it in our household and within our very small circle of friends. I still share as freely as my heart encourages me to, and I pray for the strength to stop this empire from taking more from me and my people than it already has.
And I find and follow the people doing the hard work of preserving and nourishing their cultural roots in their homes and communities within the U.S. If that’s you and you’re reading this, I see you. And I love you. Thank you.
❤️
Author and elder Stephen Jenkinson once said, quoting a dear friend and mentor of his:
“My heart is broken. I hope it never heals.”
And, as YK Hong recently wrote:
“May my heart never recover so that I will revolt forever.”
I let my heart break about the big horrible bill so rage and vengeance don’t get trapped inside. And I leave it broken, because some heartbreak should not be mended until the true cause of the heartbreak has ended.
---
“When you have more than you need, build a bigger table – not a higher wall.” ~ Unknown
