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Showing on June 12 on 100% Pinoy, the two-string instrument of Mindanao and its master... (not me but the man to my right) 
The climax of my quest to hear live kudyapi music ended in the village of Libutan in Maguindanao, where I got a lesson from the master himself, Samaon Sulaiman, and his loyal assistant, the blind Ismael Achmad. 
During our visit, the MILF local militia stood guard, more out of curiosity than to provide security. 
Libutan is a peaceful place in Maguindanao province that has not seen a gun fight in several years. In the neighboring town of Datu Piang, there was a firefight on the same day as our tranquil arrival. I suspect the deep and honored musical traditions of Libutan have made no small contribution to the peace. I was also told there is no crime here because the MILF, acting as the local police, killed all the criminals. 
Samaon, who is also the local imam, recalls burying many casualties of past wars. But he and his fellow musicians have also been called on to perform for combatants, who silence their guns to listen to what the blind Ismael calls, "music from paradise." 
I had asked around in Cotabato City for any kudyapis for sale. Some vendors of traditional instruments had not even heard of it. It turns out that kudyapis are not that common, not commercially made, and usually crafted to order. In Libutan, Samaon's brother is the official kudyapi maker, crafting it from the wood of langka trees and the wax of bees which is hardened like asphalt to provide adjustable frets for the guitar-like instrument. 
So when I was offered a brand-new kudyapi for a reasonable price I did not hesitate. This is one of the rarest instruments around, and the maker is the younger sibling of the master himself. It just didn't come with a case, so I had to carry a naked instrument in the tricycle that would take me to the airport in Cotabato City. 
My friend Jimmy Sulaiman, Samaon's son, carried it for me across a bamboo walkway over a flooded road. In the airport I was not allowed to hand carry it onto the plane, so with some coaching by GMA7 stringer Mark Navales, an airport porter cut apart a cardbox box and fashioned a case so I could check in this fragile new treasure for my eclectic little apartment in Malate. 
Samaon teaches these kids how to play the kudyapi, so perhaps as young adults they will be handling this weapon of peace rather than the more common M-16s that I see in their village.
The climax of my quest to hear live kudyapi music ended in the village of Libutan in Maguindanao, where I got a lesson from the master himself, Samaon Sulaiman, and his loyal assistant, the blind Ismael Achmad. During our visit, the MILF local militia stood guard, more out of curiosity than to provide security. Libutan is a peaceful place in Maguindanao province that has not seen a gun fight in several years. In the neighboring town of Datu Piang, there was a firefight on the same day as our tranquil arrival. I suspect the deep and honored musical traditions of Libutan have made no small contribution to the peace. I was also told there is no crime here because the MILF, acting as the local police, killed all the criminals. Samaon, who is also the local imam, recalls burying many casualties of past wars. But he and his fellow musicians have also been called on to perform for combatants, who silence their guns to listen to what the blind Ismael calls, "music from paradise." I had asked around in Cotabato City for any kudyapis for sale. Some vendors of traditional instruments had not even heard of it. It turns out that kudyapis are not that common, not commercially made, and usually crafted to order. In Libutan, Samaon's brother is the official kudyapi maker, crafting it from the wood of langka trees and the wax of bees which is hardened like asphalt to provide adjustable frets for the guitar-like instrument. So when I was offered a brand-new kudyapi for a reasonable price I did not hesitate. This is one of the rarest instruments around, and the maker is the younger sibling of the master himself. It just didn't come with a case, so I had to carry a naked instrument in the tricycle that would take me to the airport in Cotabato City. My friend Jimmy Sulaiman, Samaon's son, carried it for me across a bamboo walkway over a flooded road. In the airport I was not allowed to hand carry it onto the plane, so with some coaching by GMA7 stringer Mark Navales, an airport porter cut apart a cardbox box and fashioned a case so I could check in this fragile new treasure for my eclectic little apartment in Malate. Samaon teaches these kids how to play the kudyapi, so perhaps as young adults they will be handling this weapon of peace rather than the more common M-16s that I see in their village. 
