Three siblings simultaneously received their skin-deep, ancestral markings from three Filipino tattooists at a recent ceremony in Waialua.
Leilani Manglona said the experience was a way to connect with ancestors while bonding with her brother and sister.
“It was very special because now that we’re adults, we don’t get to spend as much time together,” she said. “So being in the same room, having our own shared and individual experiences while getting these visual reminders of our lineage, is pretty amazing.”
It’s a rare occasion to have several Filipino cultural practitioners around at the same time, according to Natalia Roxas, who was accompanied by practitioners Piper Abas and Lane Wilcken.
“It’s a privilege and a gift to be together and to be able to serve our people on this island,” Roxas said.
They perform an Indigenous form of tattooing called batok. It involves tapping ink into the skin using ancient tools made of bamboo sticks, thorns, or in this case bone — boar tusks, to be exact.
Wilcken said there are only five Filipino cultural practitioners in the world who specialize in using bone tools. The tools that were used go back 4,000 years to the Cagayan Valley in the Philippines, he added.
“That skillset was lost somewhere along the way,” he said.
Wilcken was taught this ancient form of tattooing using bone material from renowned practitioner Sulu'ape Keone Nunes. Wilcken then passed on the tradition to Abas and Roxas.
But there was a lot of pressure, Wilcken said, felt to preserve this practice.
“My tapping was, by itself, a lot of the time,” he said. “Unless I was in the companionship of my mentor or my tattoo brothers, I was alone. It was lonely.”
The cultural practitioners say using bone tools strikes the skin differently than using bamboo or thorns.
“I’ve made bamboo tattooing implements. They’re effective. They work,” Wilcken said. “But I’ve noticed that in constructing those, it’s the same technique that’s used for bone."
“I like to think of the bone as the ancestral tool of the rest of them,” he continued.
The sounds of tapping echoed harmoniously in the Waialua home, and is something that Roxas said a village would sound like.
“It’s beautiful to see a sliver of what once was,” Roxas said.
Tattooing was nearly extinct in the Philippines and across the Pacific Islands, many of which spent decades under colonial rule. Although the art form has survived, it’s looked down upon in some families.
“Our family didn't like tattoos before, and we hid it from our mom for a while, and when we told her that we had something done and that it was for our family and everything that it represented, it was accepted right away,” Manglona said.
“It was shocking to me to have her accepted so quickly, when before, everything was so taboo,” she continued.
All three siblings received hand markings, yet the meanings vary. One said it represents their father and the other said it resembles healing.
For Leilani Manglona, her tattoo means guidance, protection, and having her ancestors watch over her.
“I have stars on me,” she said. "I have my ancestors on me. They're gonna protect me on whichever journey, whichever path, they light up for me next.”
The most gratifying experience for the cultural practitioners is giving back to their community — the ancient way.
