Richard Hogan: My Badjao tribe visits have taught me the importance of connection

Bajau Laut children paddle in boats near stilted houses in The Celebes Sea

I have just returned from a quick four-day visit to Davao in the Philippines. I have had the great privilege of working with the Badjao tribe for nearly 16 years.

This year, we are building a school in the community offering children the opportunity to access education currently denied to them. The Badjao are a marginalised tribe, always on the periphery of society. But their culture and way of life is fascinating to witness. 

I always leave their company having gained insights into myself and how we live life in the West.

They are an incredibly connected tribe. They live above the shoreline, their fathers are fishermen who spend the mornings out on a skiff, hunting for food. 

I have spent many mornings with them, bobbing away on the pacific, the sun like burning magnesium, time meaningless, quietly chatting as they prepare the harpoon and tackle, pointing to things I cannot see.

And then they disappear into the water. Holding their breath for over five minutes, I’m left sitting their drenched in the sun and salt of the water, contemplating our life of commutes and mortgages, it all seems kind of absurd in a moment like that.

Still, just present in the skiff, taking it all in, while the gentle waves soporifically add to a sensory overload.

I have rarely encountered such peace; horizonless and engulfed by an old way of life. 

I’m not saying our way of life is wrong, but I certainly get the sense they are more connected to the Earth (and life, for that matter) and are not consumed with owning material things.

They are rich far beyond our comprehension. Time certainly moves slower: They are less consumed with being on time and deadlines. It can be funny arranging to meet them, because they operate on Badjao time. There is always a drama as to why they are late. Always some funny story. 

I find myself contemplating time a lot when I’m out fishing with their fathers. When I started coming here I was in my late 20s. I’m now the father of three daughters. Now middle aged.

Time moves quickly in the West. My thoughts on time often move to how long they have been under the water, I hear myself thinking, “Surely no one could survive this long without oxygen”, only for them to remerge with a fish and a huge smile, explaining something to me about the water I can’t understand. 

They offer me the harpoon, but I generally decline. Doubt my personal best of a minute would get me far in these waters.

In 2019, three members of the tribe came to live with myself and my family in Ireland for a couple of months. It was one of those experiences that is hard to articulate. 

The Badjao tribe from the Philippines at the Healy pass while visiting with Richard Hogan.

It was such fun, watching Jackie, Judy, and Danilo, Badjao children I have worked with for so many years, now adults interact with my children. At times, it was a very emotional experience, as they shared their culture with us and my daughters shared their way of life with them. It was magic.

Most Saturdays I wake to hear the excited chatter from my eldest daughter’s room as she is messing on Facebook messenger with her friends from Davao.

My daughter calls out: “Manong, they want to ask you something.” 

“Manong” is what the Badjao call me now, it means “old man”. 

They say it as they see it. 

I have watched the children from the tribe grow up, become wives and husbands and have children. That has been one of the greatest privileges in my life. To be welcomed in as a “Kabayan” (“Countryman”) has been a wonderful gift. 

I can’t believe how I got to be so lucky, out there like I was last week, island hopping with the entire community, singing songs (they love ‘Wagon Wheel’) I’m forced to play it about 20 times in the space of an hour. 

I introduced them to bluegrass back in 2012 and they love it. 

Westlife, too, are a huge hit. They were left speechless in 2019 when standing at the traffic lights in Malahide, Nicky Byrne walked passed. 

A very funny moment. I told them Elvis would be in Donnybrook Fair later.

Every time I leave their company, I feel a little guilty, I know I have received more than I have given.

The Badjao have been untouched for centuries, their way of life is a portal into the past. They are all so connected to each other, as I sit with them and share in the laughing and joking that is just their way of being together, I see the Grant Study come alive in front of my eyes.

Life, meaning, and happiness is found in the connection you have with your family and friends. That’s what they teach me every time I’m with them. Family is everything.