I’ve only lived in Palawan for four years, which means there are still many things I defer to old-timers about. Baragatan is one of them. But even friends who have lived here all their lives seem to agree on one thing: they’ve never seen anything quite like this year’s celebration.
That’s not a small claim in a province that has spent more than a century marking its founding. Baragatan, a Cuyunon word meaning “to gather,” commemorates the establishment of the Civil Government of Palawan, and this year’s edition marked its 124th anniversary.
Under the theme, “Makukulay na Yaman, Iisang Palawan,” all 23 municipalities and Puerto Princesa City came together to showcase their products, cuisine, traditions, and identity. Walking through the Capitol grounds over the past two weeks, it felt less like a collection of booths and more like a province introducing itself to itself.
What made this year’s Baragatan special wasn’t simply the size of the crowds, though those have certainly been larger than anything I’ve personally witnessed since moving here. It was seeing the many cultures that make up Palawan come together in one place. The Tagbanua, Palaw’an, Batak, Molbog, Cuyunon and other communities that have shaped the province’s story were represented not as museum pieces but as living cultures.
Each municipality brought its own flavors, dances, crafts, stories and traditions. Moving from one pavilion to another felt like traveling across an entire archipelago without ever leaving Puerto Princesa.
And perhaps that was my biggest realization throughout the festival. We often speak of Palawan as the country’s last frontier, but we sometimes forget that it is also one of the cradles of civilization in this part of the world.
Long before the arrival of Europeans, long before modern boundaries and institutions, communities had already flourished in these islands. Archaeological discoveries such as the Manunggul Jar remind us that thousands of years before Christ, people here already possessed sophisticated beliefs, artistry, and ways of life.
Standing amid all the festivities, I couldn’t help but think that our ancestors were never late to civilization. They were part of it from the very beginning. If anything, history reminds us that much of our indigenous knowledge, creativity, and identity deserves to be rediscovered and celebrated.
To me, what stood out behind the scenes was the approach taken this year. Governor Amy Roa Alvarez placed her trust in a public-private partnership, bringing in the Palawan Tourism Council to help execute the festival on a grander scale. The result is a celebration that felt bigger, more polished, and more thoughtfully organized, showing what can happen when government and the private sector work toward the same goal.
Palawan Tourism Council president Rix Rafols perhaps said it best when he observed that culture and heritage ground a festival, while the arts give it wings. That philosophy was evident throughout the celebration.
For the first time, Baragatan unfolded across two venues. The Capitol grounds remained home to the municipal pavilions, trade exhibits, and the ever-popular Caraenan food park, while concerts and major evening programs moved to the Ramon V. Mitra Jr. Sports Complex.
At first glance, splitting activities between two locations seemed like a risky departure from tradition. But from what I observed, it worked remarkably well. The Sports Complex accommodated audiences that the Capitol grounds could no longer comfortably contain, and the nightly crowds suggested that people appreciated the additional space.
Governor Alvarez has spoken about elevating Baragatan into something that can one day stand alongside the country’s most recognizable festivals. Cebu has Sinulog. Iloilo has Dinagyang. Aklan has Ati-Atihan. Baguio has Panagbenga. Davao has Kadayawan. None became institutions overnight. They grew through years of storytelling, investment, and community participation. With Baragatan’s renewed branding and its expanded public-private partnership, Palawan appears to be thinking in those terms as well.
Watching the livecast of the activities at the RVM grounds this week, seeing residents from municipalities all over the province mingle with locals of Puerto Princesa and curious visitors, I was reminded of the meaning of Baragatan itself.
Gathering.
Palawan has always known how to gather its people. This year, it seemed to gather something else as well—a renewed appreciation of who we are, where we came from, and what we can still become.
