*Note this story is in Tagalog

Isa itong magandang lugar para manalangin. Ang mga salita ng kaniyang mga magulang ay umalingawngaw sa puso ni Alfonso.

Sa unang pagkakataon na sinabi ng kaniyang mga magulang na sila ay pupunta ng La Union, naisip na ni Alfonso ang mga itatanong niya sa surfing instructor.

Ngunit hindi niya inaasahan ang mga batong walang laman sa isang lumang simbahan.

Sa paglipas ng mga taon, sila ay nagbigay ng isang uri ng kaginhawaan.

Anuman ang mangyari sa kaniyang buhay, nandoon lamang ang mg bato. Nandoon sana siya.

Naalala ni Alfonso ang unang beses nang makita niya ang pari.

Nakita niya ito sa gilid ng kaniyang mga mata. Ginagalugad niya noon ang mga guho at tinitingnan kung sino pa ang ibang naroroon.

Nagtawag siya ng isang kaibigan at nakakita siya ng isang multo.

Tumatangis, tumakbo siya papunta sa kaniyang mga magulang at sinabi sa kanila ang kaniyang nakita.

Pareho ang kanilang naging sagot — “Ipanalangin mo siya.”

Alas-otso na ng gabi, tatlong oras buhat nang dumating si Alfonso sa simbahan. Muli siyang nanigarilyo at inalala ang nakaraan.

Tinangka niyang alamin lahat ng tungkol sa pari, ang mga alamat patungkol sa pugot na ulo, ngunit wala siyang napala.

Walang nakaaalam kung paano siya napugutan ng ulo. “Pero mahalaga pa ba ito?” naisip niya.

Sumagi ang isa na namang repleksyon sa isip niya. “Ang salitang ‘nawala’ ay nangangahulugang alam mo kung saan ka papunta, hindi mo lang alam paano makarating doon.” Hindi siya makahanap ng iba pang salitang makapagpapaliwanag ng sitwasyon niya.

Hindi siya nagkaroon ng anumang layunin na maaari niyang habulinl

Alas-nuebe na at sa wakas nagpakita na rin ang pari, nag-iikot-ikot sa mga pinagpalang bato.

At sinimulan na ni Alfonso:

Ama namin sa langit

Sa Iyo namin matatagpuan ang kaligtasan

Ang mga kaluluwa ay gumagala

At itinatangis ko sa Iyo

Para sa mga nawawalan ng pag-asa

Para sa mga nawawalan ng pag-ibig

Ikaw nawa ang maging lahat ng bagay

Sa lahat ng tao

Upang mailigtas Mo sila

Itaas mo ang Iyong mga kamay

Palayain mo ang aming mga kaluluwa

Pakawalan mo kami sa aming mga tanikala

Linisin mo kami mula sa aming mga nakaraan

Gamutin mo ang aming mga sugat

Upang kami ay umasa sa hinaharap

Ito ay nangyayari lamang sa pamamagitan ng Iyong biyaya

Sa pangalan Mo

Na nagliligtas sa amin

Amen

Inulit-ulit ito ni Alfonso nang walang tigil hanggang sa tumulo ang kaniyang mga luha sa mga bato/

Alam niya na naroon pa rin ang pari sa susunod.

Alam niya na hindi ito patatawarin.

Ngunit naniniwala siya sa kapangyarihan ng panalangin.

Mula sa isang ligaw na kaluluwa papunta sa isa pa.

=———————————–=

English Version

It’s a good place to pray. His parent’s words rang hollow in Alfonso’s heart.

The first time his parents said they were going to La Union Alfonso had already thought of the questions he would ask the surfing instructor.

He didn’t expect the empty stones of an old church.

Through the years they became a sort of comfort. No matter what happened in his life, the stones would be there. He would be there.

Alfonso remembers the first time he saw the priest.

It was out the corner of his eye. He was exploring the ruins and wanted to know who else was there.

He called out for a friend and he found a phantasm.

Tears in his eyes, he ran to his parents and told them what he saw.

Their answer was always the same – ‘Pray for him’

It is 8PM, 3 hours since Alfonso arrived at the church. He takes another drag on his cigarette and remembers better times.

He tried to find out everything about the priest, of course, digging through urban legends about the headless specter and finding nothing of note.

No one knows why he lost his head. ‘But does it matter?’ he thought.

Another drag, another reflection. ‘The word ‘lost’ implies that you know your destination and you just don’t know how to get there.’ He couldn’t find another word to explain his situation.

He never had a goal he could chase.

9PM and the priest finally shows up, making his rounds through the once-blessed stones.

And Alfonso begins:

Heavenly Father

In You we find salvation

Souls wander

And I cry to you

For those that are hopeless

To those that do not know love

You become all things

To all people

That you may save them

Lift Your hands

Set our souls free

Undo our chains

Cleanse us of the past

Heal our scars

That we may look forward

It happens only through your grace

In your name

Who saves us

Amen

He repeats this without pause and Alfonso’s tears fall on the stones below.

He knows that the priest will still be there the next time.

He knows that he won’t be forgiven.

But he trusts in the power of prayer.

From one lost soul to another.

=====—————————————

*Tagalog is an Austronesian language spoken as a first language by a quarter of the population of the Philippines and as a second language by the majority. Its standardized form, officially named Filipino, is the national language of the Philippines, and is one of two official languages alongside English.

Written by Karl Gaverza

Translation by Gabriela Baron
Copyright © Karl Gaverza

Translation Copyright © Gabriela Baron

Inspired by The Headless Priest of Pindangan Ruins urban legends

The Headless Priest of Pindangan Ruins Illustration by Kring Demetrio
IG: www.instagram.com/thekringles
FB: facebook.com/thedrawerkring

The post The Headless Priest of Pindangan Ruins – Tagalog Translation appeared first on Philippine Spirits.

He thought of the kind of person that would be out at 3AM on a Saturday night. Kids partying until the sunrise or office workers finished with the graveyard shift, those were the usual suspects. This passenger was wearing office wear so he assumed the latter.

Rolito opened the door for his latest passenger and waited until he got in. If he didn’t need the money to pay for his daughter’s new baby (Her husband was a good for nothing lout) he would have enjoyed his retirement.

The passenger’s voice was familiar, he had heard it a hundred times before from different people – broken hearts, failures, business deals gone bad – same old, same old.

The drunk grumbled, ”St. Michael’s church.”

At least this one had a destination. Rolito turned right and started going down the avenue.

His passenger was mumbling to himself, Rolito tried to ignore it but his car radio was broken so he had to sit through the soliloquy. He did notice that the drunk was counting his fingers.

1

I’m sorry mom and dad, I lost the scholarship on my own. I should have listened to you and not my friends.

2

I didn’t tell her I took the condom off. And there you were, still so beautiful. Carrying our child – our child.

3

You needed me and I wasn’t there – but she was. She was everything you were and everything I shouldn’t have wanted. Her lips were so soft. So soft.

4

My old friends found me and gave me a pill. I took it to show that I was a part of something, but they all left. They always left. Now I take from those that did nothing but give. And robbed the future of the only one who loved me unconditionally.

5

I had a second chance. Then a third. Then a fourth. I got a job that could sustain us but what did I do? I stole and cheated the one who would look over my indiscretions. He was such a kind man. But kindness never lasted with me.

6

It was dark. I swear to God it was dark. He was only a boy, not much older than our child. I could only drive away. I’m a coward.

7

My life was full of lies, I would do anything to get what I craved. Lie to my love, lie to my friends, lie to myself. Blasphemous things would escape my lips and I didn’t care.

8

You only tried to help me and I called you brother. But the gravity of my world collapsed over you. It was only one drink, but one was too much and never enough. I don’t even know where you are now, but I must live with the fact that I put you there.

9

And in the end, I committed the most terrible sin of all. Taking what only God could take. I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.

The whispers continued going from 1 to 9, over and over again. At a certain point the man was shouting. Rolito looked behind him to calm the man down.

And he saw a skeleton in a tattered suit.

He remembered now where he heard the passenger’s voice. He remembered the last time he saw his grandchild’s father, it was the same coat, same tie.

They had reached their destination but the only remnant that Rolito even had a passenger were some tattered rags in the taxi’s back seat.

=——————————-=

Written by Karl Gaverza
Copyright © Karl Gaverza

Based on the Siyam-Siyam myth from Iloilo

Illustration by Leandro Geniston

From @Thatguywithapen

The post Siyam-siyam 2 appeared first on Philippine Spirits.

It’s a good place to pray. His parent’s words rang hollow in Alfonso’s heart.

The first time his parents said they were going to La Union Alfonso had already thought of the questions he would ask the surfing instructor.

He didn’t expect the empty stones of an old church.

Through the years they became a sort of comfort. No matter what happened in his life, the stones would be there. He would be there.

Alfonso remembers the first time he saw the priest.

It was out the corner of his eye. He was exploring the ruins and wanted to know who else was there.

He called out for a friend and he found a phantasm.

Tears in his eyes, he ran to his parents and told them what he saw.

Their answer was always the same – ‘Pray for him’

It is 8PM, 3 hours since Alfonso arrived at the church. He takes another drag on his cigarette and remembers better times.

He tried to find out everything about the priest, of course, digging through urban legends about the headless specter and finding nothing of note.

No one knows why he lost his head. ‘But does it matter?’ he thought.

Another drag, another reflection. ‘The word ‘lost’ implies that you know your destination and you just don’t know how to get there.’ He couldn’t find another word to explain his situation.

He never had a goal he could chase.

9PM and the priest finally shows up, making his rounds through the once-blessed stones.

And Alfonso begins:

Heavenly Father

In You we find salvation

Souls wander

And I cry to you

For those that are hopeless

To those that do not know love

You become all things

To all people

That you may save them

Lift Your hands

Set our souls free

Undo our chains

Cleanse us of the past

Heal our scars

That we may look forward

It happens only through your grace

In your name

Who saves us

Amen

He repeats this without pause and Alfonso’s tears fall on the stones below.

He knows that the priest will still be there the next time.

He knows that he won’t be forgiven.

But he trusts in the power of prayer.

From one lost soul to another.

=====—————————————

Written by Karl Gaverza
Copyright © Karl Gaverza

Inspired by The Headless Priest of Pindangan Ruins urban legends

The Headless Priest of Pindangan Ruins Illustration by Kring Demetrio
IG: www.instagram.com/thekringles
FB: facebook.com/thedrawerkring

The post The Headless Priest of Pindangan Ruins appeared first on Philippine Spirits.