During the rice festival called cañao these rice granary effigies are brought out to sit amongst their living contemporaries and assume an integral part in the ceremony. Sacrificial animal's blood is smeared on their bodies and tapuy (native rice wine) is poured over their heads. Most bul-ul have an uneven crusty patina that is actually layer upon layer of dried animal's blood, soot, tapuy and grime from the various cañaos attended for generations. However, there are also bul-uls without a sacrificial crust as not all rituals require blood offerings

Just as they used to chip off pieces from prized heirloom jars and plates, the Igorots also cut off part of an effigy's ear, nose or lip to keep as a kiwil (talisman) for safety and good health. Ancestral effigies are also believed to posses healing powers. Slivers of wood from the arm, face or legs are boiled to make medicinal potions for the afflicted.

The Ifugao live in a world of myth and magic, where a pantheon of gods, spirits and ghosts sometimes benevolent, sometimes vengeful exert control over humans and their world. Thus the Ifugao have woven their religious culture around rites and rituals of appeasement and propitiation. It is this pantheon that the Ifugao, in order to secure their health and harvest, must appease by making sacrificial offerings. In effect, the bul-ul has become a symbol of the Ifugao's psyche and a repository for their fears, joys and uncertainties of the harsh mountain life they have had to contend with. Through its beneficence and power, the bul-ul has absorbed these harsh variables and guaranteed the Ifugao a measure of control over the natural and man-made disasters and calamities that continually threaten their existence. It provides the means by which the mortal Ifugao can influence the seemingly overpowerful force of the elements and the superhuman beings that control them. It has made life, or a significant part of it, approachable, comprehensible, explainable and controllable.

Text and photos by Joaquin Palencia
Additional text by Pynky Gomez-Garcia