A Sweet Celebration of Heritage at the Ibos Festival

If culture had a flavor in Barangay Bilidan, it would taste like warm, freshly steamed Ibus sang Bilidanhon — soft, fragrant, wrapped in banana leaves, and tied not just with string, but with history.

The Opening Fiesta and Ibos-Making Contest, held as part of the vibrant Ubos Festival, was not merely a competition of culinary skills. It was a celebration of identity. A declaration that in Bilidan, heritage is not archived — it is cooked, wrapped, steamed, and proudly shared.

Punong Barangay Valentino Calumay captured it best when he said that what makes Bilidan’s ibos stand out is not just the recipe, but the hands behind it. Each family carries its own technique, its own rhythm of wrapping, its own secret in balancing texture and sweetness. The long-time makers, seasoned by years of practice, bring depth and mastery. The new makers bring fresh energy and curiosity. Together, they weave continuity.

And that’s the beauty of it.

Ibus here is more than kakanin. It is memory. It is grandmother’s early morning rituals. It is stories told while fingers skillfully fold banana leaves. It is laughter rising with the steam from the pot.

The Ibos-Making Contest did more than crown the best batch of the day — it strengthened social bonds. Neighbors cheered for neighbors. Families proudly displayed their craft. Visitors tasted not just a delicacy, but a living tradition.

Economically, the festival gives Bilidanhon families more than applause. It creates livelihood opportunities, attracts visitors, and turns cultural pride into sustainable income. Progress, after all, tastes better when it honors tradition.

Culturally, it ensures that the art of ibos-making does not fade into nostalgia. It keeps the practice alive — dynamic, evolving, yet rooted. It teaches the younger generation that heritage is not old-fashioned; it is power.

In Barangay Bilidan, unity is not just spoken from the stage. It is wrapped in banana leaves, steamed in big pots, and served with pride.

Because here, progress does not replace tradition — it preserves it.

And in every bite of Ibus sang Bilidanhon, you taste not just rice and coconut milk — you taste community.