The Story of Lilibeth and the Pan Bisaya

On the way to our destinations during our Visita Iglesia, we stopped at a shanty alongside the road in Talingting (formally called Enrique Villanueva) to have snacks. The smell of freshly baked bread enticed us to jump out of the mini van. We were greeted by Lilibeth, the owner of the humble bakery, and we spied her husband and daughter kneading dough behind the glass display counter. There were no other tourists when we visited so we took a break and spent time talking with Lilibeth and her family. And this is her story.

The story of Lilibeth is a story typical in Siquijor. Because of a lack of job opportunities, she and her family left the island when she was very young. They went to Mindanao, just like thousands of other Siquijodnons I know. She worked as a farmer and then as a house help. She got married in Mindanao and had children. When life got harder in the land of promise, she and her family went back to Siquijor (just like many other Siquijodnons I know) and tried to start anew. Lilibeth admitted to not knowing anything about making pan bisaya, which is what we call our local bread. She related that she just watched her neighbor prepare and bake the bread and learned from her though the observations (I was thinking, shucks, she stealthily copied someone's recipe). Lilibeth said she was compelled to make bread for her family (who learned to eat bread because of her boss in Mindanao) because they spend almost P200 every day just for bread. I was taken aback by this (but I didn't interrupt her). I was taken aback not because it is impossible a family in Siquijor could spend consume P200 worth of bread every day. I was taken aback because it is very difficult for a farmer family in Siquijor to earn P200 every day and spend every cent of that on bread. I just kept eating the bread and listening to Lilibeth's story.

Pugon. A local oven made of clay. Firewood is placed at the top and bottom of the oven.

With all due respect to Lilibeth and to her family because they are working together to have a better life, but Lilibeth's pan bisaya is not one I would consider authentic pan bisaya. Lilibeth has been covered by popular magazines and television shows and it is a pity because these people never managed to research further how the authentic pan bisaya is made. I don't want to offend those who make authentic pan bisaya by Lilibeth's story. I remembered my aunt, who is already deceased. She used to make pan bisaya in her also humble kitchen using the pugon. An authentic pan bisaya would use tuba as leavening agent because yeast was difficult to procure in the island. But this I always myself -- what is authentic, what is not authentic? Culture is bound to evolve. Even if Lilibeth said she uses first class flour, yeast and baking soda in her bread, do I have the right to judge her bread as inauthentic? Do I tell her that her claim to make authentic pan bisaya is false and she is misleading the many tourists that flock her small bakery?

Still pondering on the authenticity of Lilibeth's pan bisaya, I ventured to their backyard and wandered a bit. Lilibeth and her family are on my mind. I felt bad that Lilibeth stole the recipe of her neighbor and sold the products of that recipe as authentic pan bisaya, and got recognition for it. I felt bad for the pan bisaya makers whose recipes they learned from their mothers. I felt bad for the pan bisaya makers who never sought fame for their bread (which actually tastes way way better than the brea Lilibeth was selling). I felt bad for Lilibeth and the tourists who said they were buying authentic pan bisaya. I felt bad mostly for myself for thinking bad of Lilibeth and her family. Just because of a pan bisaya.