Like many people who now call this province home, I came from somewhere else. But after living in Palawan for the past four years and working closely with the tourism industry, I have come to appreciate many things about this province. It has made me even prouder to be Filipino, knowing that long before the Spaniards arrived, Palawan was already home to rich civilizations, as reflected in the Tabon Caves and the Manunggul Jar. More importantly, I have learned that being Palaweño is not only about where you were born. It is about caring enough to preserve what makes this place unique.
That thought stayed with me throughout this year’s Baragatan sa Palawan.
There is no question that Baragatan 2026 was one of the biggest and most successful festivals Palawan has staged in recent years. Governor Amy Roa Alvarez and the provincial government, together with the Palawan Tourism Council and JK Events and Advertising, deserve credit for bringing together all 23 municipalities in a celebration that showcased the province’s culture, history and creativity.
But as I watched the Saraotan sa Dalan competition, one question kept coming back to me. Why are we still borrowing rhythms from other provinces when Palawan already has one of its own?
Among this year’s contingents, Rizal was the deserving champion.
From the opening beat to the final formation, its message never changed. The performance celebrated Mount Mantalingahan not simply as Palawan’s highest peak, but as a living landscape protected for generations by the Palaw’an people.
The dancers portrayed mountain climbers making their way up the mountain with discipline and respect. As they formed forests, rivers and mountain ridges, they reminded the audience that nature is meant to be cared for, not conquered. It was a simple but powerful message that never lost its way.
Quezon, which finished first runner-up, was equally faithful to its roots. Through earthy costumes, cave-inspired sets and movements that echoed the journeys of our early ancestors, it brought the Tabon Caves and the Manunggul Jar out of history books and onto the streets.
Cuyo delivered one of the strongest performances and deserved its Best in Music award. But I think, it was the use of the maleta that caught the audience’s attention and became one of the festival’s most-talked about performances. Some appreciated the symbolism. Others questioned whether politics belonged in a cultural presentation. Whether people agreed with it or not, the performance did start a conversation.
But one thing continued to bother me.
Several contingents borrowed dance movements and drum rhythms that were clearly inspired by festivals like Sinulog and Ati-Atihan.
There is nothing wrong with either festival. They are among the finest cultural celebrations in the country.
But Baragatan should have its own sound.
Palawan has never run out of stories to tell. We have the Cuyunon, the Tagbanua, the Batak, the Palaw’an and many other communities whose traditions continue to shape who we are. We have our own music, our own dances and our own history.
That should be enough.
We do not have to dance like Cebu or drum like Kalibo to leave a lasting impression.
This year’s winners proved that. Rizal found its inspiration in Mount Mantalingahan. Quezon brought the story of the Tabon Caves to life. Cuyo showed that cultural performances can also encourage people to reflect on issues affecting society today.
As Baragatan continues to evolve, I hope our choreographers and cultural workers become even more confident in telling stories that belong to Palawan.
Innovation is always welcome. Creativity should always be encouraged. But when the drums begin to beat and the dancers step onto the streets, I hope visitors immediately know where they are.
Not because the music reminds them of Cebu or Kalibo. But because every beat, every step and every story could only have come from Palawan.
