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

*Note this story is in Cebuano

Mga 70 na ka tuig ang milabay sukad niadtong mga adlawa, lagmit labaw pa, apan kinsay ga-ihap? Usa lamang ako ka tigulang nga handumanan lamang intawon ang mao’y makapainit sa kasingkasing. Moinom ko para makahinumdom, muinom usab ako para makalimot.

Ang akong mga apo anaa sa sunod nga kwarto, kauban ang akong mga apo sa tuhod. Sa hilom nagpasalamat ko sa Ginoo sa akong maayong grasya. Nakahinumdom ko sa mga gabii’ng didto kami sa kampo sa mga POW, gisulod sa mga bagon ug walay bisan unsang paagi nga makita ang kalibutan sa gawas. Ginasipa sa mg Hapon ang kadaghanan kanamo matag bagon kada maka higayun sila. Nahinumdom ko sa mga kauban nako sa pakigdugmo, mga maayo’ng tawo sila. Nagapu sila sa sakit ug kagutom. Ambut kung giunsa nako paggawas didto nga buhi. Naubus niini ang tana’ng matang sa pisikal nga kusog nga akong maagwanta. Apan sa akong pagtan-aw sa mga mata sa akong mga anak ug sa ilang mga anak ug sa mga anak sa ilang mga anak, kahibalo ko nga ang akong gipakigbisogan takus sa tanan nga pag-antos nga akong giagwanta. Buhaton ko pa kini pag usab ug usa pa ka milyon ka beses.

Milingkod si Isa sa akong tapad ug nangutana kanako og dugang istorya. Sa tanan nako’ng mga apo sa tuhod mao kini siya ang alang nako labing maalamon. Kanunay’ng gatutuk ang iyang huna huna sa libro ug ganahan kaayo siya makadungog sa akong mga istorya, labi na kadto’ng gikan sa gubat. Karon, lahi ang akong isulti kaniya.

Usahay mobalik ko sa Lingayen. Ganahan kong mobarug sa bung-aw ug hinumdomon ang mga higala nga nakig-away uban kanako, ang mga higala nga nawala na kanako. Hilom na karon, apan mabatian gihapon nako ang nagpabiling lanog sa kamikaze nga eroplano nga naglupad didto padung sa mga barko. Sa miaging tuig wala ko nag-inusara. Ang akong mga mata dili na pareha kaniadto, apan kahibalo ko kung unsa kini gikan sa usa ka milya pa ang gilay-on.

Wala’y usa nga aduna’y panahon sa paglubong kaniadto. Malugutun kami ug amo’ng gigamit ug unsay anaa nga magamit. Kasagaran mao kini ang pagtabon sa mga lawas sa mga banig ug pagbilin niini sa dapit nga among kini’ng nakit-an samtang kami naglikay sa pagpabuto sa machine gun.

Nagtinan-away kami ug dugay. Wala ko kabalo kung nakaila ba ko niya, gikadugo ba nako siya o ako siya’ng gipadugo. Wala kini mutingog, wala gani mulihok. Nagbarog lang kini, nga nag-ali sa akong agianan. Gikuha nako ang kutsilyo nga regalo sa marine nga akong nahimamat pagkahuman sa gubat. Wala gyud ko maghunahuna nga nga manginahanglan ko pag gamit niini.

Gidunggab ko ang kalag sa iyang gibarogan, nahanaw ang mga bitiis niini ug mibukhad ang banig, nagpagawas sa makalilisang nga baho. Ang uban tawo lud-an gyud niining mao’ng baklag nga baho, apan sa tanan nakong naagian, nasayud ko nga usahay ang makalilisang nga baho makadala kanimo sa kagawasan.

Mikunot ang agtang ni Isa, sa akong hunahuna dili siya motuo sa akong mga pulong. Nangayo siyag lain sugilanon bahin sa mga kamikaze ug sa mga barko ug ako misurender na. Walay panaglalis sa usa ka bata nga nangita og istorya.

Mga 70 ka tuig na ang milabay sukad niadtong mga adlawa, apan ang mga kalag ug mga lanog nagpabilin gihapon.

=——————————————————=

English Version

About 70 years have passed since those days, probably more, but who’s counting? I’m just an old man who only has his memories to keep him warm. I drink to remember, I also drink to forget.

My grandchildren are in the next room, along with my great-grandchildren. I silently thank the Lord for my good grace. I remember the nights in the POW camp, stuffed in boxcars without any way to see the outside world. The Japanese would kick as many of us in each car as they could. I remember the men I fought with, good men. They were broken by disease and hunger. I don’t know how I got out of there alive. It took more than any sort of physical strength that I could ever bear. But looking into the eyes of my children and their children and their children’s children, I know what I was fighting for was worth all the suffering I could ever endure. I would do it again one million times over.

Isa sits next to me and asks me for another story. Among all my great-grandchildren I think she’s the smartest. She always has her head stuck in a book and she really likes hearing my stories, especially from the war. Today, I’m going to tell her something different.

I sometimes go back to Lingayen. I like to stand by the gulf and remember the friends that fought with me, the friends I had lost. It’s quiet now, but I can still hear the lingering echoes of the kamikaze aircraft flying into the ships. Last year I wasn’t alone. My eyes aren’t what they used to be, but I could recognize what it was from a mile away.

No one had time for burials then. We were resourceful and had to use what we could. That usually meant covering the bodies in mats and leaving them where we found them while we avoided machine gun fire.

We stared at each other for a long time. I don’t know if it was someone I knew, someone I bled with or someone I made bleed. It didn’t say a word, it didn’t even move. It just stood there, blocking my way. I took out the knife that was a gift from the marine I met after the war. I never thought I would have to use it.

I stabbed the ghost where it stood, its legs disappeared and the mat unfurled, releasing a horrible stench. To some people that putrid odor would be disgusting, but with all I’ve been through, I know that sometimes horrible smells can lead you to freedom.

Isa frowns, I don’t think she believes my words. She asks for another one about the kamikazes and the ships and I surrender. There’s no arguing with a young child looking for a story.

It has been around 70 years since those days, but the ghosts and echoes still linger.

————————–————————–————————–—-

*The Cebuano language, alternatively called Cebuan and also often colloquially albeit informally referred to by most of its speakers simply as Bisaya (“Visayan”, not to be confused with other Visayan languages nor Brunei Bisaya language), is an Austronesian regional language spoken in the Philippines by about 21 million people, mostly in Central Visayas, western parts of Eastern Visayas and most parts of Mindanao, most of whom belong to various Visayan ethnolingusitic groups, mainly the Cebuanos. It is the by far the most widely spoken of the Visayan languages, which are in turn part of wider the Philippine languages. The reference to the language as Bisaya is not encouraged anymore by linguists due to the many languages within the Visayan language group that may be confused with the term.

Written by Karl Gaverza
Cebuano Translation by Christine Rom
Copyright © Karl Gaverza
Translation Copyright © Christine Rom

Story inspired by the Pasatsat legends from Pangasinan.

Pasatsat Illustration by Leandro Geniston from Aklat ng mga Anito
FB: That Guy With A Pen

Watercolor by Isabel Leonio and Mykie Concepcion
Tumblr: http://mykieconcepcion.tumblr.com/

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*This story is in Bicol-Naga

Dae nasunoan nin Lia an panahon kan bangging idto. Uminoran pa kan aldaw na nalingaw siyang darahon an saiyang payong asin ngonian, nahaha’dit siya sa saiyang pag-uli. May sarong oras na siyang naghahalat na magpundo an uran pero dae pa nanggad nin swerte. Nagdesisyon siya na mag-itsa nin sensilyo nganing maaraman kun masapalaran siya na mag-taxi dawa trapik o mahalat pa siya nin saro pang oras sa opisina ninda. Payo an nagluwas. Habo na niyang isipon pa kun manggura’no an plete sa taxi, girumdom niya pa an pangako niya sa mga magurang na mauli siya nin amay kaidtong bangging idto para sa anibersaryo kan mag-agom.

Pirang minuto lang an naglipas na nakakua tulos siya nin taxi dawa pa trapik. Naghagad siyang pasensiya sa drayber huli ta naglaog siya nin basa sa bandang urihan kan lunadan. Nagsabi man an drayber na ayos lang daa sabay ngisi saiya. Naogma naman siya na ngonian dawa parupa’no trapik na lang an pagpitiw niya. Dakul na beses na nasusuya siya sa mga drayber na siniswitik siya sa paghagad nin halangkaw na plete. Pig-su’lot niya an saiyang headphones asin nagpatugtog nin jazz para mag-gian an saiyang pagmati. Halawig an trapik kaya sabi niya tama lang na magtogrog-torog muna asin napapirong na siya.

Nasa kabangaan na siya sa kanta ni Louis Armstrong na “Summertime” kan nakadangog siya nin kurahaw. Nagmata siya asin nagpirok nganing maseguro niya na dae siya namumurawan. Pigtanggal niya an headphones niya asin naghiling sa palibot. Yaon siya sa madiklom na kwarto, purong semento an mga lanob, asin dakol na mataklaon na batbat dawa saen. Sa tahaw kan kwarto igwa nin sarong tukawan asin may babaeng nakatukaw.

Naka-su’lot siya nin puti na may mga mapulang dogta. Pigranihan niya an babae asin pighapot kun ayos lang siya. Nakaduko lang an babae kaya dae niya nahiling an lalawgon kaini pero dangog niya an pigsasabi kan babae.

“Dae ka magtiwala saiya, Dae ka magtiwala saiya, Dae ka magtiwala saiya.” Ini an pauro-otrong sinasabi kan babae. Pinirit ni Lia na makarani sa babae pero igwang nagpupugol sa saiya. Pigmamandohan niya an saiyang mga bitis pero dae ini nagtutubod saiya. Kaya nakatindog lang siya na nakahampang sa tukawan na garong nakayelo.

Igwa pa siyang nadadangog na ibang mga boses na pareho kan sinasabi kan babae. An saro pang boses naghahali sa saro pang babae na nakaputi sa may likudan kan nakatukaw na babae. Parasa’ an lalawgon kaini asin dae na mabisto. Gusto niyang magkurahaw pero habong magsunod kan saiyang boses siring man sa bilog niyang lawas.

An panduwang babae igwa nin lugad sa walang parte kan sentido sa may angog niya. Nagdudugo pa ini habang siya ngalalakaw pasiring sa gilid kan tukawan. An pantulong babae nagrani na nakagakod an mga kamot sa saiyang likudan, an saiyang maitom na halabang buhok nakatahob sa saiyang lalawgon. Gabos na mga babae may mga dogta nin dugo sa saindang mga bado.

Pighiling niya gabos an mga babae asin gabos ini nakatukdo sa babaeng nakatukaw sa tukawan. Pigtaas kaini an saiyang payo ta nganing mahiling ni Lia an saiyang lalawgon. Garo siyang naka-atubang sa salming. An babae kalalawgon niya asin garo siyang binubo ning malilipot sa bilog niyang hawak.

Nakahiling lang si Lia kan sinabi kan babaeng nakatukaw na kalalawgon niya nin saro pang beses, “Dae ka magtiwala saiya.”

Pangala kaidto napagmata na siya.

Nagtutugtog pa nanggad an “Summertime” kan iminuklat niya an saiyang mga mata. Naghiling siya sa palibot asin nahiling niya na dae pang gayo nakakarayo an taxi puon kan pagkalunad niya. Nagtatakig pa an saiyang mga kamot huli sa pangaturugan kan inabot niya an saiyang selpon para itext an saiyang mga magurang na dae na siya makaka-abot sa saindang anibersaryo.

Sinabi niya sa drayber na mababa na siya duman mismo. Dae na pigdangog pa ni Lia an pagpugol saiya kan drayber asin sinabi na lang niya na igwa siyang nalingawan na importantehon. Minabulos pa nanggad an uran kan pagbaba niya sa taxi asin duminalagan pabalik sa saindang opisina. Naghahadit siya na baka mapahalnas siya sa uran pero dae na siyang pakiaram.

Sa purmerong beses puon kan pagkapangitorogan niya, nakamati siya nin pagkaseguro.

=———————————————–=

English Version

Lia didn’t like the weather tonight. It just had to rain on the day when she forgot her umbrella and she was worried about getting home. She had already been waiting for an hour for the rain to stop, but there was no luck there. She decided to flip a coin to see if she would risk the traffic and get a taxi or to wait in her office for another hour. It was heads. She didn’t want to think about how much the taxi would cost and she promised her parents she would be home that night in time for their anniversary dinner.

It only took her a few minutes to get a cab, despite the traffic. Lia rushed into the back seat and apologized to the driver for the rain on the seat. He just smiled and said it was no problem. She was happy that he seemed nice enough and that it was just the traffic that she’d have to deal with. She was tired of getting the obnoxious taxi drivers, always trying to extort extra money out of her. Lia put on her headphones and played a little jazz to lighten her mood. The traffic was bad so it just made sense to take a nap and she closed her eyes.

She was halfway through Ella Fitzgerald and Louis Armstrong’s “Summertime” when she heard a scream. Lia woke up and blinked to make sure she wasn’t hallucinating. She took off her headphones and looked around. It was a dark room, the walls were cement and there was rusted steel everywhere. In the middle of the room there was a chair and a woman sitting on it.

The woman was wearing white, though there were red stains all over her dress. Lia approached the woman and asked if she was all right. The woman’s head was facing downwards so Lia couldn’t see her face but she could hear something coming from the woman.

‘Don’t trust him.’ ‘Don’t trust him’ ‘Don’t trust him.’ The woman repeated the words over and over again. Lia tried to get closer but there was something stopping her. She told her legs to move but they wouldn’t obey. She just stood, frozen, in front of the chair.

She could hear other voices now and they were saying the same things. The first came from another woman in white, appearing from behind the chair. This woman’s face was battered beyond all recognition. Lia tried to scream but her voice was as uncooperative as the rest of her body.

The second woman in white had a wound on the left temple of her forehead; it was still bleeding as she walked to the side of the chair. The third woman approached with her hands tied behind her back and her long, black hair covering her face. There was blood on all of the women’s clothes.

She looked at all the women and they pointed to the one still in the chair. Her head moved up so Lia could see her face. I was like looking into a mirror. The woman had her face and Lia felt a chill go down her entire body.

Lia watched as the woman with her face said ‘Don’t trust him.’ One more time.

And then she woke up.

“Summertime” was still playing when she opened her eyes. Lia looked around and she realized that the taxi hadn’t moved much, she was still very near her office. Her hands were shaking from her dream and she reached for her phone and texted her parents that she was sorry that she was going to miss their anniversary.

She told the driver that she would get out at this street. Lia ignored his protests and said that she left something very important. The rain was still pouring when she got out of the taxi and ran to her office. Part of her was thinking that she might slip in the rain, but she didn’t care.

For the first time since her dream, Lia felt safe.

=——————————————————–=

*Central Bicol, commonly called Bicol Naga, is the most-spoken language in the Bicol Region of southern Luzon, Philippines. It is spoken in the northern and western part of Camarines Sur, second congressional district of Camarines Norte, eastern part of Albay, northeastern part of Sorsogon, San Pascual town in Masbate, and southwestern part of Catanduanes. Central Bicol speakers can be found in all provinces of Bicol and it is a majority language in Camarines Sur.

Written by Karl Gaverza
Bicol Translation by Willie Villar
Copyright © Karl Gaverza
Translation Copyright © Willie Villar

Inspired by the White Lady/ Kaperosa legends

White Lady (Kaperosa) Illustration by Leandro Geniston from Aklat ng mga Anito
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Watercolors by Mykie Concepcion

IG: @mykieconcepcionart
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The post White Lady (Kaperosa) – Bicol Naga Translation appeared first on Philippine Spirits.

*Note this story is in Tagalog

Hindi gusto ni Lia ang panahon ngayong gabi. Umulan kung kailan wala siyang dalang payong at nag-alala siya kung paano siya uuwi. Mahigit isang oras na siyang nagpapatila ng ulan, pero hindi pa rin ito tumitigil. Naisipan niyang idaan sa barya ang kaniyang pag-iisip. Pinag-iisipan niya kung sasakay siya ng taxi at haharapin ang masikip na trapiko o maghihintay ulit siya ng isang oras bago umalis. Lumabas ang ulo ng barya at hindi na siya nag-atubili kung magkano ang aabutin ng metro ng taxi, dahil nangako siya sa kaniyang mga magulang na makakarating siya sa kanilang anibersaryo.

Nakasakay agad siya ng taxi sa kabila ng masikip na daan. Nagmadali siyang pumasok sa likuran ng taxi at humingi ng tawad dahil nabasá niya ang upuan ng sasakyan. Ngumiti lang ang nagmamaneho ng taxi at ayos lang sa kaniya ang lahat. Masaya si Lia na mabait ang drayber sa kaniya at ang trapiko na lang ang kinakailangan niyang alalahanin. Naisip niya ito dahil napapagod na siya sa mga drayber na mahilig mamera sa mga pasahero. Nagsuot ng headphone at nakinig ng jazz si Lia para gumaan ang kaniyang pakiramdam. Dahil sa sikip ng daanan siya ay humantong sa kaniyang pagkakatulog.

Nangngalahati na siya sa awitin ni Louis Armstrong na “Summertime” nang nakarinig siya ng sigaw. Nagising si Lia at sinigurado na tama ang nakikita niya. Tinanggal niya ang kaniyang headphone at tumingin siya sa paligid. Madilim ang kuwarto, semento ang mga pader at nangangalawang ang bakal sa paligid. Sa gitna ng kuwarto mayroong babaeng nakaupo.

Ang babae ay nakasuot ng puti, na may mga pulang mantsa sa kaniyang kasuotan. Nilapitan ni Lia ang babae at kinumusta niya ito. Nakayuko ang ulo ng babae kaya hindi niya makita ang mukha nito pero mayroon siyang naririnig na may dumarating.

Paulit-ulit na sinasabi ng babae ang mga salitang, “Huwag mo siyang pagkatiwalaan.” “Huwag mo siyang pagkatiwalaan.” “Huwag mo siyang pagkatiwalaan.” Sinusubukan ni Lia na lumapit sa babae pero mayroong humahadlang sa kaniya. Hindi sumusunod ang kaniyang mga binti sa ninanais niyang gawin. Nandoon lang siya nakatindig sa harapan ng upuan.

Naririnig ni Lia ang iba’t ibang boses at sinasabi nila ang parehas na bagay. Unang nagpakita ang isang babaeng nanggaling sa taong nakaupo, nandoon siya sa likuran ng upuan. Hindi na makilala ang mukha ng babae dahil sa labis na pagkakabugbog dito. Sinusubukang sumigaw ni Lia pero hindi sumusunod ang kaniyang buong katawan.

Ang pangalawang babae ay may sugat sa kaliwang bahagi ng kaniyang noo; dumudugo pa rin ito habang papunta siya sa gilid ng upuan. Lumapit ang pangatlong babae, natatakpan ng mahaba niyang buhok ang kaniyang mukha at nakatali ang kaniyang mga kamay niya sa likuran. Nababalot ng dugo ang lahat ng damit ng mga babae.

Nakatingin si Lia sa mga babae at sabay-sabay tinuro nilang tatlo ang babaeng nakaupo. Tinaas nito ang kaniyang ulo para makita ni Lia ang kaniyang mukha. Nagmumukhang parang lang siyang nananalamin. Taglay ng babae ang kaniyang mukha at kinalibutan siya sa buong katawan.

Pinapanood ni Lia ang babae nang sabihin ulit ng isang beses ang mga salitang, “Huwag mo siyang pagkatiwalaan.”

At biglang siyang nagising.

Tumutugtog pa rin ang “Summertime” nang binuksan niya ang kaniyang mga mata. Tumingin si Lia sa paligid at napansin niya na hindi pa gaanong nakakagalaw ang taxi, at malapit pa siya sa sa kaniyang opisina. Nanginginig ang kaniyang mga kamay dahil sa napaginipan niya. Kinuha niya ang kaniyang telepono at nagpadala siya ng mensahe sa kaniyang mga magulang at sinabi na hindi siya makakaabot sa kanilang anibersaryo.

Sinabihan niya ang drayber na bababá na siya. Hindi na pinansin ni Lia ang panghihimok ng lalaki para siya ay bumalik, sinabi niya na lang na mayroon siyang nakalimutan. Bumubuhos pa rin ang ulan nang lumabas siya sa taxi at tumakbo siya pabalik sa opsina. Mayroong bahagi ni Lia na baka siya ay madulas, pero hindi na niya ito pinansin.

Sa kauna-unahang pagkakataon pagkatapos nang kaniyang panaginip, napanatag ang kalooban ni Lia.

=————————————–=

English Version

Lia didn’t like the weather tonight. It just had to rain on the day when she forgot her umbrella and she was worried about getting home. She had already been waiting for an hour for the rain to stop, but there was no luck there. She decided to flip a coin to see if she would risk the traffic and get a taxi or to wait in her office for another hour. It was heads. She didn’t want to think about how much the taxi would cost and she promised her parents she would be home that night in time for their anniversary dinner.

It only took her a few minutes to get a cab, despite the traffic. Lia rushed into the back seat and apologized to the driver for the rain on the seat. He just smiled and said it was no problem. She was happy that he seemed nice enough and that it was just the traffic that she’d have to deal with. She was tired of getting the obnoxious taxi drivers, always trying to extort extra money out of her. Lia put on her headphones and played a little jazz to lighten her mood. The traffic was bad so it just made sense to take a nap and she closed her eyes.

She was halfway through Ella Fitzgerald and Louis Armstrong’s “Summertime” when she heard a scream. Lia woke up and blinked to make sure she wasn’t hallucinating. She took off her headphones and looked around. It was a dark room, the walls were cement and there was rusted steel everywhere. In the middle of the room there was a chair and a woman sitting on it.

The woman was wearing white, though there were red stains all over her dress. Lia approached the woman and asked if she was all right. The woman’s head was facing downwards so Lia couldn’t see her face but she could hear something coming from the woman.

‘Don’t trust him.’ ‘Don’t trust him’ ‘Don’t trust him.’ The woman repeated the words over and over again. Lia tried to get closer but there was something stopping her. She told her legs to move but they wouldn’t obey. She just stood, frozen, in front of the chair.

She could hear other voices now and they were saying the same things. The first came from another woman in white, appearing from behind the chair. This woman’s face was battered beyond all recognition. Lia tried to scream but her voice was as uncooperative as the rest of her body.

The second woman in white had a wound on the left temple of her forehead; it was still bleeding as she walked to the side of the chair. The third woman approached with her hands tied behind her back and her long, black hair covering her face. There was blood on all of the women’s clothes.

She looked at all the women and they pointed to the one still in the chair. Her head moved up so Lia could see her face. I was like looking into a mirror. The woman had her face and Lia felt a chill go down her entire body.

Lia watched as the woman with her face said ‘Don’t trust him.’ One more time.

And then she woke up.

“Summertime” was still playing when she opened her eyes. Lia looked around and she realized that the taxi hadn’t moved much, she was still very near her office. Her hands were shaking from her dream and she reached for her phone and texted her parents that she was sorry that she was going to miss their anniversary.

She told the driver that she would get out at this street. Lia ignored his protests and said that she left something very important. The rain was still pouring when she got out of the taxi and ran to her office. Part of her was thinking that she might slip in the rain, but she didn’t care.

For the first time since her dream, Lia felt safe.

————————–————————–————————–—–

*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 Emman Bernardino
Copyright © Karl Gaverza
Translation Copyright © Emman Bernardino

Inspired by the White Lady and Kaperosa myths and urban legends

White Lady (Kaperosa) Illustration by Leandro Geniston from Aklat ng mga Anito

FB: That Guy With A Pen

Watercolors by Mykie Concepcion
Tumblr: http://mykieconcepcion.tumblr.com/

The post White Lady (Kaperosa) – Tagalog Translation 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
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*Note this story is in Waray

Ha akon hinigugma nga anak,

Diri ako maaram kun hain ka yana nahihimumutang. Kunta maaram ako. Kunta makit-an ko ikaw bisan makausa nala. Diri ako maaram kun kaya ko iyakan ngatanan kun ano ako kahidlaw ha imo.

Mahusay ka hin duro hadto nga imo busag nga bestida. Nahinumdom pa ako nga ikaw mismo an pumili hadto. Malipayon ka hin duro. Ginhimos mo gud hin maupay an imo itom ngan hilaba nga buhok ngan an imo hiyom nagdadara hin kalamragan han bugos nga kuwarto. Nahinumdom pa ako han imo mga ngisi. Amo adto an pinakasyahan mo nga pag atendir hin okasyon nga ikaw la, ngan imo guin papakita gud ha ngatanan nga ikaw daraga na. Kunta waray ka nagdako hin mapaspas.

Mahusay ka nga nagdaraga, pero an akon nakikita la gihapon kay an akon anak nga puya. An akon gutiayay nga anak nga nagmiminulay han iya mga mulayan upat ka oras kada adlaw, an akon anak nga diri makaon hin utan kun diri namon kakantahon an iya paborito nga kanta. An akon minayuyo nga anak.

Naiha ka gud pag inandamon nga waray mo makita na atrasado na an oras. Nalilisang ka na hin duro nga kami han imo Amay nakakatawa na ha imo. An imo huna matitima na tim kalibutan kun diri ka makaabot hito na okasyon.

Pasaylua ako. Kunta nakadto ako. Nakadto kunta ako han ginbayaan ka hito na imo hinigugma. Han imo kasakit tumalabok ka ha kadalanan nga waray lingi-lingi, waray panginano. Diri ko mapapasaylo tak kalugaringon han natabo ha imo.

Ako an imo Iroy. Ako dapat an syahan nga magproprotektar ha imo ha bugos na kalibutan. Ginsalbar ko kunta ikaw.

Ginmimingaw ako ha hin duro ha imo. Nagtatangis ako adlaw-adlaw nga waray ka na dinhi. Gusto ko ikaw hangkupan ngan diri na bul-iwan pa. Waray pulos inin nga kalibutan kun waray ka.

Magkikita gihapon kita utro.

Hulta ako.

English Version

To my lovely daughter,

I don’t know where you are right now. I wish I did. I wish I could see you one last time. I don’t know if I can put into words how much I miss you.

You looked so beautiful in that dress. I remember you picked it out yourself. You were so proud. You styled your long, black hair so wonderfully and your smile lit up the entire room. I still remember your smile. It was your first grown-up party, and you tried so hard to act like an adult. I just wished you didn’t grow up so fast.

You were a beautiful young woman, but all I could see was my baby girl. The girl that played with her beanie babies for four hours a day, the little girl that refused to eat her vegetables until we sang her a song. My baby girl.

You spent so much time getting ready that you didn’t notice you were late for the party. You were panicking so much that your daddy and I couldn’t help but laugh. You thought your whole world was going to end.

I’m sorry. I should have been there. I should have been there when that boy broke your heart. When you were so heartbroken you ran across the street without even looking. I will never forgive myself for what happened to you.

I was your mother. I was supposed to be the one who protected you from the world. I should have saved you.

I miss you so much. I cry every day because living without you is so empty. I want to hold you in my arms and never let you go. This world doesn’t mean anything if I can’t have you with me.

I will see you again.

Please wait for me.

*Waray is the fifth-most-spoken native regional language of the Philippines, native to Eastern Visayas. It is the native language of the Waray people and second language of the Abaknon people of Capul, Northern Samar and some Cebuano-speaking peoples of eastern and southern parts of Leyte island. It is the third most spoken language among the Visayan languages, only behind Hiligaynon and Cebuano

Written by Karl Gaverza
Waray Translation by Mikka Angela Mendoza
Copyright © Karl Gaverza
Translation Copyright © Mikka Angela Mendoza

Story inspired by the White Lady legends

White Lady Illustration and Watercolor by Yanna Gemora
FB Page: Yannami

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*Note this story is in Ibanag

Maturu pitufulu nga ragun ngana i nappasa adde gari, ngem, sinni kari i mabbilang? Tadday nga’ laman nga laka-lakay nga kuruga mapalubbangan nu mappakoli. Minum-ma tapenu makaraddam-ma. Anna, minum-ma gapa tapenu makattammak-ku.
Egga ta tangabbagan nga kuwarto yuri afu-afu ku ira, tuange ta afu-afu ku ta ‘tuk. Maimammo nga’ nga mappabalo ta Yafu ta grasya nga neyawa Na. Maraddammak-ku yuri gabi-gabi ira na paggigiak-ku gari turi ta kampo na POW. Naggiak-kami ta atatazzi ira nga bagon na tren; ari mi masingan i lawan. Ta adde na pakapangwa na Hapon ira, pinaddurummo da sikami ngamin ta unak na bago-bagon. Maraddammak-ku yuri kakavulu ku nga nakipabbakal. Masippo ira nga totolay. Ngem, nepallo i kabbi ra megafu ta taki anna bisin. Ari ku lagu ammu nu kunnasi nga’ nakalawan turi. Ari tu kasikannan na baggi’ laman i kegafuan na. Ngem, ta paginingak-ku ta mata-mata na ana-ana ku ira, anna turi ta ana-ana ra gapa, anna turi ta negaka-gaka na ana-ana ra, ammu’ nga yuri balor na pakipabbakal ku ay ari tu meparig ta ziga-riga nga iniyatattak-ku. Nu awayya na, ekku paga ulian yuri nga ziga-riga maski mamittanga-milyon paga.
Nagitubang ta biko ku si Isa, anna nakimallo tu magistorya nga’ paga. Ta ngamin nga afu-afu ku ta ‘tuk, yayya tamma i kasiriban, megafu ta vuluvvuga i aya na ta pabbibbik ta libru ira, anna nepallo i aya na nga maggigginna ta istorya’ ira, talugaring ta gerra gari. Sangaw nga aggaw, duma i istoryak-ku sa.

Nu tagi-mittan, ay lubbe nga’ ta Lingayen. Anni i aya ku nga maggian ta biko na bebay turi, anna pakolian ta nono ku danuri kofuk-ku ira nga kavulu ku nga nakipabbakal, danuri kofuk-ku ira nga natay. Maimammo ngana i levu sangaw, ngem, kagitta na magigginna’ paga adde sangaw yuri guni-guni na eroplano ira nga manompi ta bira-biray anna barko ira. Kamikaze kudda lagu turi. Gari ta nappasa nga ragun, ay ari nga’ nattattadday. Nakafi ngana i mata-mata’, ngem, makata’ paga yayya maski paga tu tadday nga milya i karayyu na.

Gari, awat-tu oras mi nga mangitanam. I makwa mi laman ay takkabban yuri baggi-baggi na nakkakatay ta dapan ira.
Fuwersadu ibattang mi laman ngana ira megafu ta mabi kami nga massifu anna malilli ta pala-palattuk na Hapon.

Naddinnulang kami ta nabayag. Ari ku ammu nu nammuak-ku yayya gari, nu nakavulu ku yayya onu kalinga’ yayya gari. Ari yayya nappika, anna ari laman gapa yayya nagguyu-guyu. Siminaddak laman yayya turi anna enna finugaddan yuri dalanak-ku. Ekku nelawan yuri ila nga neregalu niakan nuri marino nga nammuak-ku ta kabalin na gerra. Ari ku napanono, maski mittan, nga meusa’ gabba lagapa yuri nga ila ta korianan.

Ekku dinudduk yuri amang ta gian na niketaddagan na. Nawawan yuri takki-takki na, kunnud, naubbaran anna nevullak yuri dapan. Ganganalaman, nagaguk ta navuyu-vuyu yuri levu. Ta duma nga totolay, yuri nga aguk ay kagitta na tu nalabbak nga pattak. Ngem, napenam-ma’ ngana. Ammu’ nga nu mittan, i kunnaw nga gannug ay makapaliag nikaw.

Nagamundu si Isa. Ari na tamma nga kurugan yuri nestorya’ sa. Nakimallo mangana yayya ta tadday paga nga istorya nga meyannung turi ta kamikaze ira, anna danuri bira-biray. Netulu ku lagapa yuri uray na. Ari mu gamma makwa nga igamma i abbing nga magaya nga magginna ta istorya.

Maturu pitufulu nga ragun ngana i nappasa adde gari nga agga-aggaw, ngem, ari tu mawawan yuri ikara-kararruwa anna guni-guni ira.

English Version

About 70 years have passed since those days, probably more, but who’s counting? I’m just an old man who only has his memories to keep him warm. I drink to remember, I also drink to forget.

My grandchildren are in the next room, along with my great-grandchildren. I silently thank the Lord for my good grace. I remember the nights in the POW camp, stuffed in boxcars without any way to see the outside world. The Japanese would kick as many of us in each car as they could. I remember the men I fought with, good men. They were broken by disease and hunger. I don’t know how I got out of there alive. It took more than any sort of physical strength that I could ever bear. But looking into the eyes of my children and their children and their children’s children, I know what I was fighting for was worth all the suffering I could ever endure. I would do it again one million times over.

Isa sits next to me and asks me for another story. Among all my great-grandchildren I think she’s the smartest, she always has her head stuck in a book and she really likes hearing my stories, especially from the war. Today, I’m going to tell her something different.

I sometimes go back to Lingayen. I like to stand by the gulf and remember the friends that fought with me, the friends I had lost. It’s quiet now, but I can still hear the lingering echoes of the kamikaze aircraft flying into the ships. Last year I wasn’t alone. My eyes aren’t what they used to be, but I could recognize what it was from a mile away.

No one had time for burials then. We were resourceful and had to use what we could. That usually meant covering the bodies in mats and leaving them where we found them while we avoided machine gun fire.

We stared at each other for a long time. I don’t know if it was someone I knew, someone I bled with or someone I made bleed. It didn’t say a word, it didn’t even move. It just stood there, blocking my way. I took out the knife that was a gift from the marine I met after the war. I never thought I would have to use it.

I stabbed the ghost where it stood, its legs disappeared and the mat unfurled, releasing a horrible stench. To some people that putrid odor would be disgusting, but with all I’ve been through, I know that sometimes horrible smells can lead you to freedom.

Isa frowns, I don’t think she believes my words. She asks for another one about the kamikazes and the ships and I surrender. There’s no arguing with a young child looking for a story.

It has been around 70 years since those days, but the ghosts and echoes still linger.

————————–————————–————————–—-

*The Ibanag language (also Ybanag or Ibanak) is spoken by up to 500,000 speakers, most particularly by the Ibanag people, in the Philippines, in the northeastern provinces of Isabela and Cagayan, especially in Tuguegarao, Solana, Abulug, Cabagan, and Ilagan and with overseas immigrants in countries located in the Middle East, United Kingdom and the United States. Most of the speakers can also speak Ilocano, the lingua franca of northern Luzon island. The name Ibanag comes from the prefix “I” which means “people of”, and “bannag”, meaning river. It is closely related to Gaddang, Itawis, Agta, Atta, Yogad, Isneg, and Malaweg.

Written by Karl Gaverza
Translation by Jake Calubāquib Coballes
Copyright © Karl Gaverza
Translation Copyright © Jake Calubāquib Coballes

Story inspired by the Pasatsat entry in in Myth Museum. Medina. 2015.

Pasatsat Illustration by Leandro Geniston from Aklat ng mga Anito
FB: That Guy With A Pen

Watercolor by Isabel Leonio and Mykie Concepcion
Tumblr: http://mykieconcepcion.tumblr.com/

The post Pasatsat – Ibanag Translation appeared first on Philippine Spirits.

*Note this story is in Filipino

Sa pinakamamahal kong anak,

Hindi ko alam kung nasaan ka ngayon. Sana ay batid ko. Sana ay makita kitang muli, kahit isang beses pa—kahit sa huling pagkakataon. Hindi mailalarawan ng mga salita kung gaano ko pinanabikan ang makasama kang muli.

Napakaganda mo sa bistidang iyon. Tandang-tanda ko pang ikaw ang pumili nu’n at ipinagmamalaki mo pa nga sa lahat ng nagtatanong! Nagniningning ka sa gabing iyon—litaw na litaw ang iyong ngiti sa gitna ng inilugay mong mahaba at maitim na buhok. Hindi ko malilimutan ang ngiti mong iyon. ‘Yon ang unang beses na dumalo ka sa party ng mga matatanda at nakakatawa kung pano’ng labis mong sinubukan na umastang katulad namin. Sana nga ay hindi ka tumanda nang ganu’n kabilis.

Ikaw ang pinakamagandang dalaga sa paningin ng lahat, ngunit ang nakikita ko lang nu’n ay ang munti kong prinsesa. Ang anak kong ‘pag nilaro ang ang kanyang mga beanie babies ay halos apat na oras kung abutin, ang batang ayaw kumain ng gulay kung ‘di namin kakantahan. Ang aking baby girl.

Gumugol ka ng maraming oras para paghandaan ang party hanggang sa ‘di mo namalayang mahuhuli ka na sa pagdating. Tarantang-taranta ka no’n at tawang-tawa naman sa’yo ang iyong ama. Para kasing ikaguguho ng iyong mundo ang pagiging huli.

Patawad. Dapat ay nanatili ako doon. Dapat ay nandu’n ako nung winasak ng lalaking ‘yon ang puso mo. Nu’ng bigong-bigo ka at tumakbo patawid ng lansangan nang hindi tumitingin kahit saan. Hindi ko pa din mapatawad ang sarili ko sa nangyari sa’yo.

Ako ang iyong ina. Ako dapat ang nagtanggol sa’yo nung talikuran ka ng mundo. Ako dapat ang sumagip sa’yo.
Sabik na sabik na akong makita kang muli. Araw-araw kong pinanananghuyan ang buhay na hindi ka kasama—ang buhay na parang walang laman dahil wala ka. Gusto kitang hagkan at ‘di na muling pakawalan. Ang mundo ko’y walang saysay ngayong wala ka na.

Makikita kitang muli.

Hintayin mo ako.

————————–————————–————————-

English Version

To my lovely daughter,

I don’t know where you are right now. I wish I did. I wish I could see you one last time. I don’t know if I can put into words how much I miss you.

You looked so beautiful in that dress. I remember you picked it out yourself. You were so proud. You styled your long, black hair so wonderfully and your smile lit up the entire room. I still remember your smile. It was your first grown-up party, and you tried so hard to act like an adult. I just wished you didn’t grow up so fast.

You were a beautiful young woman, but all I could see was my baby girl. The girl that played with her beanie babies for four hours a day, the little girl that refused to eat her vegetables until we sang her a song. My baby girl.

You spent so much time getting ready that you didn’t notice you were late for the party. You were panicking so much that your daddy and I couldn’t help but laugh. You thought your whole world was going to end.

I’m sorry. I should have been there. I should have been there when that boy broke your heart. When you were so heartbroken you ran across the street without even looking. I will never forgive myself for what happened to you.

I was your mother. I was supposed to be the one who protected you from the world. I should have saved you.

I miss you so much. I cry every day because living without you is so empty. I want to hold you in my arms and never let you go. This world doesn’t mean anything if I can’t have you with me.

I will see you again.

Please wait for me.

————————–————————–————————–

Written by Karl Gaverza
Tagalog Translation by Alpine Moldez
Copyright © Karl Gaverza
Translation Copyright © Alpine Moldez

Story inspired by the White Lady legends

White Lady Illustration and Watercolor by Yanna Gemora
FB Page: Yannami

The post White Lady – Tagalog Translation appeared first on Philippine Spirits.

WAAAAH! WAAAAAAH!

“Hush little child, close your eyes, don’t worry we will be alright.” The woman holds her belly tight, making sure that her child is safe.

“Please don’t be like your father, don’t be like any of those hideous men, always looking for one thing then leaving when they get it. ‘Boys will be boys’ they always say, but they never realize that girls are always going to be the ones left behind.”

WAAAAH! WAAAAAAH!

“I know it may seem late, but mommy’s going out to do what she has to do. She has to let all those evil men know that you can’t just leave women behind. It’s a cruel world out there and I reserve a special kind of cruelty for them.”

WAAAAH! WAAAAAAH!

“Because they deserve it. It was their filth that entered me. I was just an innocent young woman, with her whole life ahead of her, and now here I am. Here we are. We were buried together and we will be together until the end of time, but if I have to be this way, then I will not suffer alone.

I will take what they think is the most important thing that they have. Their precious ‘manhood’ and I will enjoy watching them bleed out.”

WAAAAH! WAAAAAAH!

“Shhh, shhh. I didn’t mean to scare you. But it’s okay, mama’s here. She’ll make sure the world is safe from those cruel men. We could have lived you know? If not for them. We could have been together just you and me, against the world that made us what we are.”

WAAAAH! WAAAAAAH!

“Now hush! I see a man on his way. Now don’t worry this won’t take long. And afterwards you can play with mama alright? Now stay quiet while I go say hello.”

————————–————————–————————–—

Written by Karl Gaverza
Copyright © Karl Gaverza

Inspired by the Mantiyanak legends from Mindanao

Mantiyanak illustration by Julia Kristen Delos Santos
FB: JKTD

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