The Tartanilla's Journey: From Workhorse to Showpiece
I am a proud Duljoanun, born and raised in Barangay Duljo-Fatima, once celebrated as the tartanilla capital of Cebu. In those days, the tartanilla did not require press releases or branding efforts. It had established routes, regular passengers, and a clear purpose. After a long day on the road, the horses and paradista would park right in our barangay, demonstrating that culture was not something performed for show—it was simply working, integrated into daily life.
The Modern Transformation: From Utility to Symbolism
Fast forward to today, and the tartanilla has undergone a remarkable promotion. It has retired from its role as daily transport and been reassigned as a cultural celebrity. On ordinary days, it remains largely invisible, but on special occasions, it reappears polished, posed, and punctual. The electric bike now handles the heavy lifting of transportation, while the tartanilla waits patiently for festivals, visiting dignitaries, and events with banners substantial enough to justify its presence.
The Asean Moment: Heritage as Spectacle
During tourism-driven gatherings of the Association of Southeast Asian Nations (Asean), the tartanilla transforms into an overnight icon. Cameras adore it, delegates admire it, and brochures frame it as living heritage. Cebu, we are told, takes immense pride in this tradition—at least for the duration of the program. Heritage, it seems, now operates according to an events calendar, raising questions about its authenticity.
The irony is both striking and elegant. A mode of transport that barely transports anyone is celebrated as an example of cultural sustainability. Paradista who once worked daily now find employment only occasionally, with routes shortened and appearances meticulously timed. Culture has been downgraded from a necessity to a novelty, shifting from integral to incidental.
Authenticity Versus Choreography in Tourism
This is not an attack on tourism or modernization. Asean tourism frameworks eloquently discuss authenticity, inclusivity, and community-based livelihoods. However, authenticity cannot survive on choreography alone. A tartanilla that only moves when cameras are rolling is not living heritage—it is set design, a staged performance rather than a preserved tradition.
If Cebu aims to align honestly with the Asean tourism agenda, then heritage must be supported beyond mere symbolism. This requires real routes, real regulations, real welfare standards for horses, and real income security for paradista. Otherwise, we are not preserving culture; we are curating nostalgia with good lighting, reducing a vibrant tradition to a photo opportunity.
Reflecting on a Bygone Era
I am proud to have lived in a time when the tartanilla did not wait for applause. It moved because people needed to get somewhere, no lanyards or special events required. Culture that only appears when the world is watching is not preservation—it is performance. Once the delegates depart and the banners come down, the tartanilla returns to its true status: on standby, awaiting the next photo opportunity, a symbol of heritage that has lost its heartbeat in the pursuit of spectacle.
