Ati tribe stories

Excerpt from Ellen’s Facebook post

… The driver of a speedboat with tourists bound for a luxury resort hit the Chief’s modest native fishing boat. The boat was destroyed. The Chief and his son-in-law Ricky were thrown into the water.

The speedboat driver left the scene — and took the tourists to an exclusive resort.

More than an hour later, the speedboat went back. Ricky was rescued. The Chief was gone. Divers looked for his body for two days in the sea between Boracay Island and mainland Malay. They finally found the Chief’s body today.

Police arrested the driver. The case is ongoing in Kalibo, the capital of Aklan Province.

The speedboat is owned by a multi-billion dollar hotel and resort company company — Shangri La. No public comment yet, that I’m aware of, from the luxury business about its employee’s disregard for a human life.

The formerly nomadic Ati tribe lives on Boracay and Panay islands in the Philippines. Many years ago when tourism took off, the Ati were given a tiny part of Boracay Island on the backside — away from the powdery white beaches that make it a top vacation destination. Other tribe members moved to ‘mainland’ Malay.

The mainland Malay Ati were given tough land. Much of it is steep terrain with no infrastructure. The Ati were marginalized — sort of like Native Americans.

You can see beautiful Boracay Island from the top of their small mountain ‘reservation’, a constant reminder of a lost past.

Before the pandemic, many Ati were day laborers. They loaded boats with supplies for tourists who vacationed on their ancestral land. A few men, including the Chief, drove ‘tuktuks’ – motorcycle-carts that are taxis. Jobs all dried up when the coronavirus stopped tourism.

We (me, Theo, and Mom Diane) decided to help the Ati when we were “stuck” in the Philippines during COVID. We had a team of helpers and donors: good and kind Filipinos and foreigners- some strangers, some family and friends.

First, we build a hen house at the mountain-top Kurong Village to get cash in their hands. Egg sales gave the Ati a meager profit, but at least it was something.

Next, we brought *electricity to the village. The Ati in Kurong (one of several mainland villages) were delighted over lights and music.

The third major project was to bring *drinking water to Kurong. That was the Chief’s number one wish when we met him— to get his people in Kurong running drinking water.

All supplies for all projects had to be carried up the small mountain. No roads, just trails.

There were a few other projects, too. Tree planting, typhoon shelter repair, a playground, a new foot bridge over their tough terrain. Boat repairs, fishing line, gardens, bags of rice. Medical tests, tanks of gas, weaving supplies, Christmas presents, and more.

It seems like a dream. Did we really help some of the poorest people on the planet that much? Yes—— and the Chief helped us, too. It was humbling and gratifying to be of service to marginalized people. We are members of the same team. Humanity’s team. I think of these people, and the latest gadgets and fashions seem absurd.

Chief Ernesto Coching was a good man. He was kind. He cared so deeply about his tribe. He made important decisions on all projects. I think the Chief looked happy when he accomplished things with Theo, who knew him way better than I.

I’m so angry at the injustice of this. It is such a tragic story. Indigenous man pushed off his land, given tough terrain. A cab driver and a fisherman (who fished to eat) hit by a speed boat with well-to-do tourists and then left to drown as a relative survives and witnesses utter disregard for their lives. Makes me sick.

“Shangri La” means “a remote beautiful imaginary place where life approaches perfection.”

May the Chief rest in peace in utopia.