Genealogy: The Neri Family of Mindanao

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And the story (or was it legend?) thus begun . . . .

Sometime in 1521, there lived Samporna, chief of Cipit, and otherwise known as a rajah of Lanao. In Sanskrit, the word, sampurna, means perfect.

And then like the silent marches of unrecorded history nothing newsworthy was heard of this tribal family until 1779, when the usurping march of the Spaniards under the banner of the Christian cross came to the hapless islands. Thus, with reverential haste and in the name of king and God, a Rev. Pedro de San Barbara gathered together the Samporna family and officiated at its mass christening adopting for them the family name of Neri.

And why an Italian name from a Spanish friar? One can only surmise and note that a St. Philip Neri, an Italian cleric and a popular European saint, must have been in the mind of the named friar.

While the Spaniards kept meticulous records of their exploits overseas, digging that part of the past is still a daunting task, given the crudeness and impermanency of record-keeping methods used by the native islanders.

And searching for the missing links for this family was no exception, for recorded and verifiable history picks it up starting in the very early 1800s. Missing out on at least 25 years, which during those times were truly lifetimes given the shorter lifespans of people then. One could say that people typically then lived for under 50 years, and this family is particularly noted for having forefathers/progenitors who lived short lives when compared to present-day standards.

Then in the 1800s, a profusion of families carrying the name Neri littered local history’s screen. Juan Neri who lived from 1807 to 1857 and was married to Anastacia Chaves. A Leon Neri with nothing much known about other members of his family. A Lino Neri who was gobernadorcillo from 1832-1833. Another was a Salvador Neri, married to a Coronado and was also a gobernadorcillo from 1831-1832.

Only one common thread binds all those names mentioned above, and it is that they all lived at about the same time. But as to the bigger question of whether they were related either as siblings or as cousins, everything is still in a haze. One needs to remember that in times past and is still the practice with our Moslem brethren, multiple wives were common especially with tribal leaders and families with both affluence and influence.

Thus, we could surmise that when reference is made to Samporna family, it was a family composed of one male and several wives, not necessarily related to each other.

Thus, the relations of those named families above could be construed in this manner, unless new data can prove or disprove this hypothesis. Can we ever hope to resolve this confusion and dilemma?

This is particularly crucial because beyond those dates, the history of the families of the Neri is quite accurate and easily traceable. Thus, beyond the middle 1800s, one can almost be sure that data are easily available to trace one’s lineage all the way to the present time.

And if any interested party wants to try and know, we can take that journey together, tracing through data I already possess and other data that may be in the hands of other relatives.

UPDATE: February 21, 2008

Upon suggestion of Mon Neri, I tried ways to replicate the genealogy graph or table that I had hand-written in ways that could be sent and received by any interested party. Browsing through the installed software for my Canon PowerShot cameras, I learned that using the photograph attached below, I could actually read through all the names without difficulty and they all came out legibly. I simply opened the ZoomBrowser on my PC and previewed the photograph. That screen allows one to view the picture in its actual size, which of course would not fit in one's monitor screen. But there is a small navigator inset screen that allows one to navigate through the entire graph and thus enables one to trace lineage with the names.

Good luck to those interested.



And if you have good enough eyesight, one can simply click on the picture and view a much bigger graph.

UPDATE: February 23, 2008

After a little research occasioned by a comment that mentioned the Neri’s of Mambajao, Camiguin, I have herewith added the graph for the Bohol branch of the Neri Genealogy, where the following prominent families belong, that of VP Emmanuel Pelaez and his siblings, the family of currently embattled former NEDA chief Romulo L. Neri, and that of Provincial Board Member Jesus “Dongdong’ Neri of Mambajao.

Since no years of birth or death were provided, it is still difficult to match chronologically this branch with the main graph with the many branches. What is shown is that the Neri’s of Camiguin, Medina and Cebu can trace their lineage to the Bohol branch. Additionally, the Bohol Neri’s also claim that they were descended from the Neri’s of Mindanao, confirming our premise that Mindanao was the primary locus for the original Neri family which traced its origins to 1779 when the name Neri was first introduced in the islands.



Note:
The truncated names on the leftmost section are: Mariano Neri, married to Ambrosia Fortich. Click on the image to enlarge.

March 16th, 2009 Update

Toward the end of February of this year, we had an arranged meeting with one of the renowned members of our clan, Dra. Rafaelita "Oche" Pelaez, whose father was Rudolfo Neri Peleaz and who owns and operates one of four universities in Cagayan de Oro (Liceo de Cagayan University). Oche has contracted a well-known local author to write a book about her father who founded the school. And per schedule the book may be out soon. Oche is desirous of adding as much of family origins as possible in the book. Thus, a copy of our extended genealogy was presented to her. And she in turn committed to frame it for public display.

For the records, Oche's paternal grandfather was Nicolas Pelaez of Talisayan, brother to Gregorio Pelaez, Sr. of Medina and father of the illustrious Maning Pelaez. Gregorio was married to Felipa Neri of Bohol.

In turn, Oche's grandmother, Paz Neri, was a younger sister of my paternal grandfather, Ramon Neri.

November 18th 2008 Update

Have already furnished several copies of the extended graph to some local relatives. I still have extra copies that are available. Since I have re-framed the original copy, I intend to hang it inside our little bakery shop on our building located at the corner of A. Velez (Del Mar) and Hayes (Victoria) streets here in Cagayan de Oro. For viewing for those interested.

EXTRA EXTRA EXTRA! ! !
October 25th 2008 Saturday

I have already copied the extended family graph, measuring 3 feet by 2 feet. It does not seem right to fold it into a smaller size for mailing, thus what would be appropriate is to mail it in a paper tube. Would appreciate getting some recommendations. However, if you are in the old hometown of Cagayan de Oro, we could arrange for those interested to take delivery in person. Now remember this is an on-going project and is thus a work in progress. Notations and corrections will be welcomed. But definitely a good and bold start to try to finish our trace of the family all the way to 1779.

Waiting for your inputs.

UPDATE: October 8, 2008
I just discovered this little bit of family history in one of the anonymous comments in some other blog entry. This is a more fleshed-out origin of our Neri family. Thus, this reveals that we are descended not only from Moros or Moslems, but also from Bukidnon aborigines. Very interesting.

Cagayan de Oro History From Beginning to 1950

The city of Cagayan de Oro, which boast of possessing the most beautiful name of all the cities of the country, has an equally beautiful story behind it; a colorful story which takes it start from a woman's smile, so the legend says.

The first inhabitants of Cagayan, many, many years ago, lived in a village on the bank of Taguanao River, eight kilometers south from Cagayan. This was a part of the Bukidnon territory, and later on, they moved on the bank of Kalambagohan River, where Cagayan now stands, and called their settlement Kalambagohan because of the luxuriant growth of "lambago trees". For sometime, the natives lived in the prosperity until the end of the sixteenth century when the Maguindanaos, a rival tribe from Lanao raided and captured the place. The bukidnons after a fight were forced to retreat to the hills.

The aborigines of Kalambagohan were Bukidnons. The horde of barbarous Moros from Maguindanao under Raja Moda Samporna (The Unopposed) demanded the surrender of the villagers who retreated to the hills. The Kalambagohan datu sent his beautiful daughter, guarded by his bravest warriors, to meet the Rajah and to make a conditional surrender: "None in the village should be carried across the countryside was more than confirmed now, and accepted the term of surrender. Her beauty alone was enough to captivate, but her charms wrought destruction to the Rajah, so the stronger leader of Maguindanao warriors began to waver. It was a long story but it ended with the Maguindanao datu thrusting his spear into the stairs of the datu's house which action in those days was symbolic of a man's proposal for marriage. The datu and daughter readily accepted the proposal and thus ended the whirlwind romance. The Maguindanao warrior who started from his camp to subjugate the recapture the rival camp became its prisoner of love. The news of the marriage was received with grief and resentment by the subjects of the captivated Rajah. Rajah Moda Samporna made his warriors build a strong cotta around the village. So, instead of the Moros conquering the Bukidnons, they were the ones captured. The Moro warriors felt so ashamed of the defeat that they never referred to the place as Kalambagohan anymore. Instead, they changed the name "Caayahan" (the Moro word for shame) or Cagayhaan (the Bukidnon word for shame). When the Spaniards came they mispronounced the name of the village, hence, they gradually changed it to Cagayan. Years later, rich gold deposits in sitio Munigi and Pigtaw and in the sand bed of the river were a common discovery so the name Cagayan de Oro came into existence.

MOROS IN CAGAYAN

The Moros intermarried with the Bukidnons. Samporna and his descendants became the ruling families in Cagayhaan. When the Spaniards came, some of Samporna's descendants moved to Boroon, Lanao, and from there to Uatu, Tugaya, and Ganasi in the province of Lanao. Today on the shore of Lake Lanao live Sultan Samporna of Tugaya, Sultan Samporna of Uatu and Sultan Samporna of Ganasi. In Maguindanao, now Cotabato, where the Samporna ancestors originally came from, still live Eman Samporna of Banobo and Eman Samporna of Moling.

COMING OF CHRISTIANITY

The coming of the Spaniards gave a twist to the history of our place when the first missionary from Spain arrived in Cagayhaan in the year 1622 to preach the Christian religion to the natives or Moros. These missionaries belonged to the order of the Recollect. Rev. Pedro de Santa Barbara was one of the most zealous workers of the Cross, and at once baptized their pagan converts. The Samporna families who remarried in Cagayhaan became Christian and they were given the family name of "Neri". Hence, the present Neri families in Cagayan descended from the Moros.

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Just Venting

Many highly educated and intelligent people with a pen to write and the talent to weave words creatively, plus the forum to broadcast ideas, like to postulate profound idealized standards that events tracing and chronicling the overall human experience in this world should be looked at and judged against. Thus, these theoretical pundits appear to lustily pontificate from their high moral and ethical perches.

No more wars! No more violence against anybody! Compassion to our enemies! Legalize all illegals and by damn, keep the borders wide open for everybody able to walk in! Turn the other cheek and give money, too! Food for all the hungry! Rich nations should divest themselves so everybody will be at parity! Wealth is evil because poverty exists! Man should be wantonly free as the wind to experience his every whim and capriciousness! After all, the individual is supreme and we cannot go wrong taking that route! Etc., etc.

Then one wakes up and finds we do not live in a perfect world. We have to use imperfect tools, imperfect ideas, and imperfect men to resolve imperfect situations. Call it realistic pragmatism.

But many are still up there in the nimbus clouds with both feet aloft and feel-good harps abuzz. They should all be in heaven, with such profoundly moral/ethical statements and recommendations. Like, right now.

How does one convince people to be pragmatic and realistic with about most anything in this life? And how does one politely but emphatically wake people up to convince them to start with their own backyards, rather than try to quibble and kibitz on the formidable burdens of the rest of the world other than their own?

Idealism and its pursuits can only lead to paralysis, i.e., nothing gets done. And worse, people waste precious time and effort arguing which side has the better and bigger “stick”.

This implacable urge to espouse idealized solutions must act like ambrosia, hyping and bringing its devotees to some kind of self-entitlement. Or maybe, they simply are worshipping before the gods of self-esteem; and why not the gods that foster this-gives-me-the-feeling-of-superiority attitude.

In the meantime, everybody else is a scumbag, worthy of condemnation, derision and contempt.

Nobody wins against that. That’s the royal flush that trumps everything else.

Using “Filipina” Not A Dilemma

A blog entry in the very popular Filipino blog, Sassy Lawyer, spoke in defense of Filipino womanhood in general in the midst of an apparent negative connotation worldwide of the local feminine form of a Filipino citizen, the word, Filipina. The defense was quite articulate and decisive, except in its justification of the use of the word, Filipina.

Though claimed that its usage is not validated as right by grammarians, I suppose, of the English language, the other language most Filipinos are most familiar with, the point was made that it should be used with pride and for self-identification of Filipino womanhood. However, the justifying explanation advanced for its continued use made no reference to its etymology. The comments which were aplenty were quite approving of the defense and the use of the world. Still, no adequate explanation as how and why it should be used.

It would appear that we as a people have not been attentive enough with the long tumultuous history of this archipelago, especially those portions when two colonizing powers occupied the islands and imposed not only their languages but more importantly, their ways of life. We cannot discount that we might also be dismissive of these portions of our history as a retaliatory mechanism against the inequities now perceived as realities during those times.

True, the Americans with their English language were the later colonizers, one of whose main and lasting impressions on the country was its educational system delivered and bound together by the English language which it used as the medium of instruction. And thus, great deference and respect are given the language

But the Spaniards with its Spanish not only came earlier but stayed a lot longer, much longer with its almost 400 years of occupation. Needless to state, the collective and lasting impacts of that culture are almost imperceptible and indeterminable, except to say that its myriad of influences on society run so deep as to be part and parcel of Philippine culture.

One easy one to point out is how we got our names, and the methodology of naming our citizens. Most of us inherited not only Spanish first names and surnames, but also the ways of using and assigning those names. Thus, Juan is our masculine form to name a child who is a boy, but Juana if it turns out to be a she. And it goes down the line. Pedro and Petra. Claro and Clara. Amado and Amada. Etc., As a general rule then we learned that the suffix “o” stands for the masculine form while the “a” stands for the feminine form. We also have examples like Gloria, which as I far as I know does not have a masculine counterpart.

The local uses of Filipino and Filipina are then nothing more than extensions of the already ingrained naming conventions that we have dutifully followed in our daily lives. There is no need to find validation and/or justification for them in any other language, except our own.

If we declare we are proud of our ethnic origins, then this is indeed one defining instance we can show that pride.

And BTW, we do not have to change our names when we go live or visit in other countries, do we? I know some do, but we don’t have to.

And if one is observant enough with how the rest of the world assigns names to its citizens, then we realize how confusing and unregulated it already is. American is used either as a noun or an adjective to describe origin; the same is true with Canadian. But Spanish is not necessarily used the same way because the noun is Spaniard, though it is also a noun to refer to the language. The adjective Hispanic is used to denote the broader category that includes most of those Latin American countries which Spain had colonized at one time or another. And Danish is the adjective with Dane as the noun. Same with Swedish and Swede. Chinese and Chinaman. And so on.

For us, it should be Philippine/Filipino and Filipino/Filipina, giving us the extra advantage of having one other noun to call the feminine half of the population.

Of Living and Dying

We are not only a very unique species, but also very interesting, tightly bound together with a strong strand of ironies and paradoxes. Let me delve on one such interesting paradox. It almost always makes for good, emotional, and moving theatre when the life or death of one soldier, or it could be a band of soldiers, is plucked out from anonymity and served to us in a platter of glaring and inspiring detail. I call this our “Saving Private Ryan” moment, since which one of us cannot identify and empathize with the unique circumstances of the man Matt Damon played. 

 When anonymity is replaced with personal details, we are almost always moved emotionally and intellectually and may thus exhibit a myriad of moods and emotions, ranging from respect, love, honor, fear, inspiration, and even to hate. Hate for the powers that be responsible for bringing about the set of circumstances to rain on our perceived hero or heroes. But in another vein, we appear to be anesthetized emotionally when dealing with large anonymous numbers. We cannot seem to fathom our emotional depths when we are confronted with unthinkably large numbers. Private Ryan was one life and we invested our entire emotional cache on his life, conveniently shunting aside the countless thousands who died on the beaches of Normandy alone, who did not have to die but obviously died for a cause they believed in. 

But a single life such as a Private Ryan pushes to the fore the idealism of our profound emotional qualities. We also find ourselves unable to invest emotionally on the countless other young soldiers and civilians who died in wars and conflicts past. 

About 55,000 GIs died in Vietnam and hundreds of thousands of Vietnamese. At least 75 million soldiers and civilians died during WW2. Etc, . Saddam sitting on his cell is responsible for at least a million deaths, from the time he ascended to power, through the Iran-Iraq War, through the first gulf war, through the present war, and down to his jail cell time. Yet we are quite emotionally detached from him and his dastardly deeds, (and others like him) as though he never quite existed or mattered. Yet surprisingly, many vigorously hate the man responsible for taking him out of power. It is arguable if we have invested enough grief for all the hapless thousands who died in the WTC attacks. 

We can hardly remember how many idealistic young men died during the regime of Marcos, though we clearly continue to reminisce to this day of the billions he stole and the single life of a Ninoy Aquino.

 What about Hiroshima and Nagasaki? Several hundred of thousand lives wiped out in seconds. But then we cannot identify with a single Japanese life from those holocausts. The same would be true with what is presently happening in Sudan where genocide is in progress. We may have to wait until one life is highlighted in detail before we can release and give rein to our profound emotions. 

 Why is this so? All those who died in conflict possessed the same life, with the same values and potentials, as any other life of any other color, race, and ethnicity. 

 If one perceives life as having value unto itself then it is most important that everybody lives and not die. But we have been taught that earthly life is not that significant. Christ taught by example about sacrificing a life so a greater good can be attained. Earthly life then has value when it has purpose, not because it is life and has to be lived to its natural end. 

 One of my sons reminisced about another fellow officer who died. He had known him quite well, sometimes doing duty for him. He was of his age, married also with two young kids. He was off-duty and was riding his bike home on a stretch of freeway when a hit-and-run rig ended his life abruptly. I caught a bit of the news about this officer’s funeral. And the comment of one fellow officer caught my attention. The guy said that the deceased lived and died doing what he liked to do, riding his bike. He did not say that he died too young, or that some crazy guy snatched this man’s life away from his family, his work, and his friends. But that this young man lived doing what he liked to do. 

 UPDATE (3/27/2011) Admittedly, it feels good to get confirmation for some self-arrived conclusions, such as this one.

In the 1960s, the economist Thomas Schelling performed research demonstrating that people are more likely to be moved by single victims than by statistics.

MUSINGS OF A SOLITARY PERSON SEARCHING FOR KINDRED SPIRIT

It’s been quite sometime that I’ve found that this mortal coil I’m tied to
has become rather burdensome.
It’s not that suddenly the load has become unbearable;
nor because its multiplying cares have conspired to overwhelm.
It’s not even because of the countless frustrations it has spawned daily.

Why then the wanton indifference,
the lackadaisical and dreary outlook to the unfolding reality that slowly rolls in each day ?
Culled from a veritable storehouse of life experiences, the answer is readily unraveled.
The uncanny realization that earthly life is bereft of meaning,
so fleeting and so vaporous in its content.

Finding that nothing of life induces inspiration to pursue it with at least decent fervor.
No wonder then its trite challenges are met with tepidity and nonchalance.
Finding that the trifling values and pursuits that present-day man has clothed life with,
I look down with derision and disdain.

Harboring no ill will toward man himself
but only at the blatantly hedonistic pursuits that preoccupy his day.
A gnawing yearning for something more meaningful and profound is felt spiritually.
Things that satisfactorily fulfill my very discriminating criteria for goals worthy of pursuit.

Things that relate to the higher and noble nature of man.
Ultimate causes that address what comes after this so inscrutable existence.
And the pangs of impatience obstinately tear at my consciousness,
Making it very difficult to exhibit even feigned interest
and enthusiasm at the very mundane concerns of everyday living.

Despite the gloomy picture painted above,
the quest for meaning is doggedly pursued if only to justify continued existence.
The ultimate purposes are easily articulated with nary an iota of doubt.
To mortify and bring the material body to complete and total subjugation
by the spirit through the strict practice of A S C E T I C I S M.

This determination gives me impetus to continue with life.
It proffers the clarity of vision to see through the hazy veil
that shrouds the real purpose of man here on this earth.

That he is here only as an itinerant traveler,
preordained to begin his real life in the spirit
devoid of the constrictive trappings of the flesh.
Still, while the mind and spirit share a clear and unstinting grasp of my real goals in life,
Keeping in this frame of mind is most of the time difficult
and calamitous lapses are not uncommon,
Making it necessary to incessantly remind myself of the guiding principles
that should rule my daily living.

But life ought to be more than just an excruciating tolerance
and nonchalance of the events that shape it.
It ought to be more than just trying to survive the trip so the goal can be attained.
It is still within one’s capabilities to make life a more positive experience.

One should be able to look forward to each day with child-like anticipation,
in tandem with a driving passion to be an active and catalytic participant in it.
And not just a passive onlooker being bandied about,
satisfied with just trying to salvage the most out of a situation.

If such a possibility should exist,
I ought to dig deep into myself and my innermost resources to find out.
To enable me to look at life in a positive perspective
so that I can approach each day with promise and excitement.

The search might be made more meaningful
if I can find a kindred spirit to share my sentiments and philosophy.
Is it possible to find such a person in this lifetime,
or am I so alienated from the rest ?

In my own peculiar and quaint ways
I pursue the search for kindred soul for I still have to find one.
While everyday, I struggle and grope around trying to maintain the precarious equilibrium
that makes life bearable and livable.
At every turn and every tick of the clock,
confrontational situations stare at me,
Demanding undivided attention
and unyielding to anything less than total commitment.

Most of the time, the battles seem to weigh against me
resulting in a troubling and agonizing sense of frustration.
And as if these were not sufficient for the day’s share of troubles,
the vagaries of my sensual emotions float around the mind seeking fulfillment.

Sensuous desires, definedly moral taboos, buffet the will;
Are the learned moral values of our youth still relevant or what ?
The many familial concerns also add their share of bitter medicine
to an already water-logged soul.

Indeed, life seems not to be getting any better in terms of achieving a yeoman’s share
of those fleeting moments of seeming peace and tranquility
so that my mind can relax and savor the beautiful vistas it surveys
as it glides through the times of my life.

Death seems such a sweet and tempting alternative to extricate oneself from all this living.
but in an inexplicable, almost sadistic, way one can’t help believing
that these trials are cathartic and may indeed make for a more saintly life.

FOR DO NOT ALL THESE BRING OUT IN EACH ONE OF US
THE SAME GODLY DIGNITY THAT PERMEATED CHRIST’S EARTHLY LIFE ?