*Note this story is in Bicol-Naga

“Nahahandal ako.”

“Dai kaipuhan, aki. Mangyayari an mga muya kan espiritu.”

“Ano an mangyayari sa sakuya?”

“Kitang duwa maduman sa puon kan Balete, asin babayaan taka duman. Matindog ka sa irarom kan puon sagkod dadarahun ka sa itaas kan kinaban pati na sa irarom kaini.”

“Tano?”

“Ngarig mabuhay kang liwat.”

“Makulugan daw ako?”

“Da… dai ko rumdom. Haluy na kan ako nag agi sa sakuyang reinkarnasyon. Pero dai ka maghandal, aki. Ipapahiling ninda saimo an kinaban.”

“Iyo ba iyan an rason kun tano ika nakakalayog?”

“Iyo, aki. Iyan sagkod kadakol pa. Hale ako sa kairaruman kan dagat pati na sa kalaog-laogan kan mga taho. Nakaulay ko na an mga kalag sa kinaban na ini asin sa minasunod pa. Nagbiyahe ako sa mga lugar na mayo ni isay ang makakahiling pa. Asin ako pagalun na.”

“Yaon na kita.”

“Danguga an mga kalag. Sinda an ma giya saimo arog kan pag giya ninda sa sakuya.”

“Maghilingan pa daw kita?”

“Sisay nakakaaram kun ano an itutugot kan mga espiritu? Paaram aki, ibabaya ko an sakong mga taho saimo.”

“Paaram, Lola.”

An duros dagos na nagtama sa aki habang siya nakatukaw sa irarom kan puon kan Balete. Mga aldaw na uminabot nin mga semana asin dai siya naghiro ni sarong pulgada. An mga inagihan siya, aram na dai dapat istorbohun an inaagi niya. Kan natapos an huring banggi para magtaong dalan sa bagong aga, tuminindog siya asin luhay na nagpasalamat sa mga espiritu.

An saiyang bagong mga mata lugod na nahiling an kinaban na nungka niya nahiling sa dati niyang buhay. Dai siya nakaisip mag ngirit.

Ugwa pa siyang gibo na kaipuhan matapos.

=—————————=

English Version

“I’m scared.”

“You don’t need to be, child. The spirits will do as they will.”

“What will happen to me?”

“We will both go to the Balete tree and I will leave you there. You will sit underneath the tree and be taken to the Skyworld and the Lower World.”

“Why?”

“To be reborn.”

“Will it hurt?”

“I…. don’t remember. It has been so long since I went through my initiation. Don’t be scared child, they will let you see a new world.”

“Is that why you can fly?”

“Yes, child. That and much more. I have been to the depths of the sea and inside the bodies of humans. I have spoken to the spirits in this world and the next. I have traveled to places that no human will ever see again. And I am tired.”

“We are here.”

“Listen to the spirits. They will guide you as they have guided me all my life.”

“Will I see you again?”

“Who knows what the spirits will allow? Goodbye child, I leave my people to you.”

“Goodbye, Lola.”

The winds buffeted the girl as she sat beneath the Balete tree. The days stretched into weeks and she did not move a single inch. Those that passed by knew better than to interrupt her journey. When the last night finally gave way to a new dawn she stood up and quietly thanked the spirits.

Her new eyes finally saw the invisible world that surrounded her old life. She did not think to smile.

She had work that needed to be done.

————————–————————–————————–—–

*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 Sam Jornales
Copyright © Karl Gaverza
Translation Copyright © Sam Jornales

Inspired by the Baylan initiation ritual as described in The Soul Book. Demetrio & Cordero-Fernando 1991.

Babaylan Illustration by emirajuju
IG: https://www.instagram.com/emirajuju/

Watercolor by Catherine Chiu
FB: Wildling Child
IG: https://www.instagram.com/wildlingchild/

*Note this story is in Hiligaynon

Indi mapinsaran sang iban ang mga trahedya nga dala sang mga tinuga nga ini. Nagakadumduman ko sa gihapon ang mga sugilanon nga ginasugid sadto ni lola, mga sugilanon sang pagtimalos kag kapirdihan. Ginasundan nila ako sa akon mga hupa.

Nag-umpisa ang tanan sa akon nga lolo. Nagdesisyon sia nga magkaingin sa gamay nga bahin sang duta sa kabukiran agud ihanda ini para sa tigtalanum. Wala ko nahibaluan kon ngaa ginpili nia magkado sa malayo nga bahin sang bukid, mas malayo sa masami nia nga ginaplastaran. Malapit ato sa busay nga ginatawag nila nga “lamesa,” tungod sa tapan nga bato sa idalum.

Ginsunog nia ang kahoy nga ara didto kag amo ato ang umpisa sang mga ginamo.

Pagkatapos, ginkadtuan sia sang akon lola kag nanay sa payag agud dal-an sia sang panyapon kag updan sia sa gab-i. Nagakadumduman kuno nila gihapon ang mabaskog nga mga tunog sang mga tiil sang kabayo. Nagalanog sa ila nga memorya ang pamatyag sang kakulba sang ginpalibutan sila sang amo to nga mga tunog bag-o sila magtulog kon gab-i.

“Benito, gwa! Kinahanglan ka namon estoryahon!” Ginatinguhaan ni lola kag nanay nga ilugon ang tingug kada isugid nila ang sugilanon, apang indi nila ini mahimo sang husto. “Grabe ang kaakig nga ara sa tingug,” siling nila, “sobra pa sa amon sarang mailog.”

“Masanag ang bulan sadto nga gab-i.” Sa bahin nga ini ginalaragway ni lola ang mga tinuga. “Tawo sila halin ulo tubtob sa hawak, apang kabayo halin sa hawak tubtob sa ila mga tiil.” Ginpanumdom ko ang mga mito nga naggikan sa lain-lain nga bahin sang kalibutan, kon sa diin may mga tinuga nga tunga-tunga nga kabayo kag tawo nga nagabulig sa katawhan. Siling sa akon ni lola indi gid mabinuligon ang mga espiritu nga ini. Nagkari sila agud magtimalos.

“Gabaan ka gid sang imo pagkamatinaastaason kag indi pagtahod.” Gintudlo sang manugmando sang mga kabalan si lolo. Ginhambalan sia sini nga napatay ang iya utod sang ginsunog ni lolo ang kahoy nia. Nagpakitluoy ang lolo ko para sa iya nga kabuhi. Indi man nia kon tani pagsunugon ang kahoy kon nahibaluan nia nga may taglugar ini.

Wala sang labot ang mga tinuga.

Sa amo nag-umpisa ang trahedya.  Naghalin ang mga tinuga sadto nga gab-i, apang nagpabilin ang ila nga sumpa. Indi mahambal sang mga doctor kon ano gid man ang masakit sang akon nga lolo. Nag-untat sia kaon tungod kada magkaon sia nagaubo sia kag nagasuks sang dugo. Nagakasunog kuno ang tutunlan nia kon nagasuka sia.

Wala sang mahimo ang akon nga lola, nagpakonsulta sila sa manog bulong, sa amon lokal nga faith healer. Gintinguhaan sang manog bulong nga dal-on sa estoryahanay ang mga tinuga. Hambal ni lola kada gab-i nagagamit ang manog bulong sang lain-lain nga ritwal, apang wala sang pulos ang mga ini.

Indi gid mauloulohan ang mga tinuga.

Matapos napatay si lolo, naigo sang kilat ang magulang nga lalaki ni mama samtang ara sia sa ibabaw sang puno sang lubi sa gwa sang ila balay. Matapos ang tatlo ka tuig na patay sia sa iya katulugon.

Nadula ang kalabanan sa mga pagkabutang sang pamilya ni nanay kag nagpabilin sila nga pigado tubtob napatay si lola tungod sa cancer.

Wala nakabalo ang mga tinuga nga ini kon ano ang buot silingon sang kaluoy, mangita sila sang balos tubtob nabayaran sila paagi sa dugo.

Maghalong sa mga kabalan, kay indi sila mamati sa inyo pagpangayo sang kapatawaran. Kag maghalong sa palibot sang mga kahoy sa babaw sang kabukiran, indi mo lang mabal-an kon may taglugar dira, indi tubtob ulihi na.

=———————=

English Version

The tragedies that these creatures bring are unimaginable to some. I still remember the stories that my lola used to tell, stories of vengeance and loss. They follow me in my nightmares.

It all started with my lolo. He decided to kaingin a small piece of land in the mountains, to prepare it for the planting season. I don’t know why he decided to go further up the mountain, away from his usual spot. It was near the waterfall they called “lamesa”, relating to the flat rock on the bottom.

He burned the tree that was there and that was the start of the troubles.

My lola and mother joined him in the payag (nipa hut) afterwards to bring him dinner and to spend the night with him. They still remember the loud hoofbeats. The feeling of dread when the sound circled their small hut still echoes in their memories before they sleep at night.

“Benito, come out. We need to talk to you.” My mother and lola tried to replicate the voice every time they told the story, but they said they could never get it right. “There was too much anger in the voice,“ they said, “more than we can mimic.”

“The moonlight was bright that night.” This was the part of the story where lola describes the creatures. “They were human from head to trunk, but were horses from their trunk to their feet.” I thought back to myths from a different part of the world, where half-human half-horse beings would help humankind. Lola told me that these spirits weren’t helpful at all. They came seeking vengeance.

“You will pay for such arrogance and disrespect.” The leader of the kabalans pointed to my lolo. It told him that my lolo killed its brother when he burned his tree. My lolo begged for his life. He would not have burned the tree had he known there was something living there.

The creatures didn’t care.

Thus began the tragedy. The creatures left that night but their curse lingered. Doctors were never able to tell what exactly was wrong with my lolo. He stopped eating because every time he ate he would vomit and cough up blood. He said it would burn his throat every time he vomited.

My lola had no other choice, she consulted the manggagamot, our local faith healer. The faith healer tried to reason with the creatures. My lola said that night after night the faith healer would try another ritual, but it was all for naught.

The creatures would not be appeased.

After my lolo died, my mom’s elder brother was struck by lightning while he was at the top of the coconut tree outside their house. After three years he died in his sleep.
My mother’s family lost most of their properties and were trapped in poverty until lola died of cancer.

These creatures don’t know the meaning of mercy, they will seek their vengeance until they are repaid in blood

Beware the kabalans, for they will not listen to your pleas of forgiveness. And be careful around the trees high up in the mountains, you will never know if one makes its home there, not until it’s too late.

————————–————————–———————

*The Hiligaynon language, also colloquially referred often by most of its speakers simply as Ilonggo, is an Austronesian regional language spoken in the Philippines by about 9.1 million people, mainly in Western Visayas and SOCCSKSARGEN, most of whom belong to the Visayan ethnic group, mainly the Hiligaynons. It is the second-most widely spoken language and a member of the so-named Visayan language family and is more distantly related to other Philippine languages.

Written by Karl Gaverza
Hiligaynon translation by Paul Aries Valera
Copyright © Karl Gaverza
Translation Copyright © Paul Aries Valera

Adapted from a Story told by Grace Collantes

Kabalan Illustration by Ysa Peñas
Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/theonechitect/

*Note this story is in Waray

Magigin maupay an ngatanan.

Nahampak an mga balod ha ulo han parupangisda. Nag-atentar hiya nga umabante ha katubigan kundi gin-ulang hiya han bagyo. Yukut kamilyon nga mga tarahiti an naigo ha waray korte nga kadagatan, kundi bisan sugad, maaram hiya nga maundang liwat ini. Waray hiya dad-a ngadto agud malumos, ngan matapod hiya ha ira tubtub ha iya kamatayon.

Nahinumduman niya an mga luha ha mga mata han iya iroy han ginlabay niya an rosaryo hini. Nahadlok ini para ha iya, kundi dugang nga nabaraka para ha iya kalag. Anak an parupangisda han iya amay ngan padayon nga natuod ha kadaan nga mga pamaagi tungod kay aada an tubig ha iya dugo.

Nakimaluoy an iya iroy nga tumapod hiya ha iya tagatalwas, ha ira tagatalwas. An pirme ginpapahinumdom ha iya samtang ginpapatubo hiya ha gugma ngan lamrag, kundi waray niya mahimo nga mamati ha iya iroy. Waray masabtan han iya iroy an ira kinabuhi ha dagat, an mga bantay nga naprotehir ha ira.

“Aswang han Dagat” – amo an ira tawag ha mga sugad. Sering nira, gin-aagda an mga parupangisda ngadto ha tubig pinaagi han ira mga kanta agud lumuson ngan kaunon hira. Nasosorpresa pa gihapon hiya kun ano kaiha na nga nalastar iton nga buwa ngan kun ano kadamo an mga tawo nga padayon nga natuod didto. Maaram an mga parupangisda kun ano iton nga mga istorya: usa nga pagkilala/paghatag hin kangaranan ha pira kasiglo nga pagrespeto ngan pagdayaw ha mga ispiritu.

Kundi waray na gud hiya mahihimo. Ginbag-o na han mga tuig an ginalalauman han mga tawo ha panahon nga nanginginahanglan hira. Waray na mga halad ha dagat, o mga pangadi ha mga balod. Hiya nala an nasalin. An urhi nga anak han natikamatay nga tuluohan.

Natikaluya na an mga braso han parupangisda. Nadadara na an iya lawas han waray kahumanan nga paghampak han mga balod ngan uran. Ginhinumdom niya an iya iroy ngan nagdig-on ha iya panindugan. Ginluwas niya tikang ha iya im-im an urhi nga dasal antes malumos an iya ulo ha mga balod:

An tubig an magdudul-ong ha akon ha balay

Matapod ako ha imo O ispiritu han bagyo ngan dagat

An kasisidman magigin lamrag

Makalma an mga balod

Magigin kaupod ako han dagat

Magigin maupay an ngatanan.

=—————————————–=

English Version

“They will save me.”

The waves crash over the fisherman’s head. He tries to tread water but the storm will not let up. Thousands upon millions of raindrops batter the ocean’s shapeless form, but he knows they will pass. They did not lead him here to drown and he will trust in them until the end of his days.

He remembers the tears in his mother’s eyes when he tossed her rosary aside. She was scared for him, but more concerned for his soul. The fisherman was his father’s son and carried on believing in the old ways because the water was in his blood.

His mother begged him to trust his savior, their savior. The one she had raised him to remember in love and light, but he couldn’t listen to her. She could never understand the life they had at sea, the guardians that protected them.

“Aswang ng Dagat” – that’s what they called them. They say that the spirits lured fishermen into the water with their songs to drown and eat them. It still surprised him how long that lie had lasted and how many people still believed in it. The fishermen knew those stories for what they were: a brush used to paint over the centuries of respect and admiration of the spirits.

There was nothing he could do though. The years had changed what people turned to in their times of need. There were no more offerings by the sea, or prayers to the waves. What was left was him. The last son of a dying belief.

The fisherman’s arms are getting weak now. His body is finally surrendering to the endless onslaught of the waves and the rain. He thinks back to his mother and stays firm in his conviction. His lips release one final prayer before his head goes beneath the waves:

The water will lead me home
I will trust in you
O spirits of storm and sea
The darkness will turn into light
The waves will calm
I will be with the sea

————————–————————–————————–—

*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 Joan Sebastian
Copyright © Karl Gaverza
Translation Copyright © Joan Sebastian

Inspired by the Magindara entry in Bikol Beliefs and Folkways: A Showcase of Tradition. Nasayao 2010.

Magindara Illustration by emirajuju
IG: https://www.instagram.com/emirajuju/

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

*Note this story is in Bicol – Naga

“Selamat pagi!” bati ni Aish sa local niyang taramon asin nagsimbag ako na “Maray man mahiling ka.” Siya bago pa sana, sarong estudyante haling Malaysia na muya mahiling ang igwa ang Pilipinas kaya uni kami ngonyan. Nasa katahawan ning Negros, masakat pasiring sa kabuludan. Yay.

Dae man sa habo kung maging tour guide pero mahambog lang ako kung masabi akong iyo. Saro akong taga syudad, pinangaki asin nagdakula duman kaya habo ko sa arog kani igdi. Kadakulon mga kahoy, kadakulon maray masitas asin dae pa ko nainom kape sa limang oras na nakaagi. Dae ko maisip na kakayahon kong mabuhay sa arog kani.

Pagkatapos kang lakaw na garo mayong katapusan, nakaabot man kami sa campsite. Naglibot si Aish sa lugar para magkua ning mga magagayon na litrato para sa saiyang souvenir book asin ako man nawalat sa campsite habang minaisip kung panong ang arog kaning bagay naging pamuso sa arog kaning panahon. Ang pagsakat sa mga tukad bako ko talagang ideya ning kaogmahan asin pagkatapos kaning lakaw na ni, dae ko maisip na maulit pa ko.

Naglatag ako ning duyan asin nagpurbar magturog nguna bago magpreparar ning pamanggihan. Naglubog na ang aldaw ning amay ngonyan na banggi pero ang bulan bilogon kaya dae man problema. Nagsara ako ning mata asin nag-isip na mangiturugan ning marhay na bagay.

“Penanggalan! Penanggalan!” namata ako sa kurahaw ni Aish asin dae ko aram kung saro pa ini sa mga gawi ning Malaysian, pero mayo akong interes ngonyan sa pag-aadal kultura. Pigyugo ako ni Aish sa sakuyang duyan asin naghapot, “Haen si mga kakanon!?”

“Aram mo Aish—” nagpundo ako sa katahawan ning taram kang mahiling ko siya. Ito. Aram ko kung ano ito. Sarong ungga-ungga o kung ano mang apod saiya sa parteng ini, pero sa Bikol inaapod mi ining anananggal. Ang mga tour groups madalas tinatakot ang mga turista kang mga istorya kang bruhang naglalayog na naglalaylay ang lamang loob. Dae na ko nag isip isip asin nagdalagan ning abang rikas. Dapat talagang ngpirmi na lang ako sa harong.

“Hain si kakanon?!” Kurahaw ni Aish giraray. “Dae ini oras para mag-isp kang tulak mo!” Kurahaw ko man habang nagdadalagan kasabay niya. Dae ko maisip na maiintindihan ko ang mga Malaysians talaga. “Seryoso ako!” kurahaw niya giraray, kaya tano dae, kung gusto niya ang huri niyang pagkakan, dae ko siya pupugulan. “Yaon sa likod kang tent.”

Nagdalagan si Aish pasiring sa tent asin pigsusog siya kang ungga-ungga. Bako ako itong maisog na tawo pero barkada ko man giraray si Aish. Garo arog kayan, kaya kaipuhan ko magdalagan pabalik para kuanon siya. Nahiling ko siya na may kapot pinya asin pigdaklag ini sa ungga-ungga asin tinamaan ini. Dae ko aram kung anong nangyayari pero nagkurahaw ang ungga-ungga asin naglayog parayo.

Nagtindog lang ako duman, ribaraw.

“Sa pinaghalian ko, ang pinya pigtatanom gibo kang ang mga tunok kang dahon kani pinapahali ang Penanggalan. Ang mga tunok napasiring sa mga baga asin laman loob kani kaya nasasakitan sindang maglayog. Aram kong mabisa ini dawa igdi.” Nagngingirit si Aish sin nag-abot sako ning mga isnakan.

“Gutom ka?”

=—————————=

English Version

“Selamat pagi!” Aish greets me in his native language and I reply “Nice to see you.” He’s a new guy, an exchange student from Malaysia who wanted to see what the Philippines had to offer so here we are. In the middle of Negros backpacking through the “great” outdoors. Yay.

It’s not that I don’t like being a tour guide, but that would be a lie. I am a city boy, born and raised and I do not like it here. There are too many trees, there’s too much green and I haven’t had coffee in 5 hours. I don’t think I’ll survive this.

After a trek that seemed to last forever we finally hit camp. Aish goes around the area to take some nice pictures for his souvenir book and I’m left at the campsite wondering how this sort of thing is popular these days. Trekking through the mountains is just not my idea of fun and after this trip I don’t think it will ever be.

I lay out a hammock and try to take a small nap before preparing dinner. The sun set early tonight but the moon is full so it isn’t that inconvenient. I close my eyes and hope that I get to dream about something good.

“Penanggalan! Penanggalan!”Aish’s shouts wake me up and I don’t know if it’s another one of his Malaysian customs, but right now I am not interested in a cultural exchange. Aish shakes me from my hammock and says, “Where is the food!?”

“Look Aish—“ I stop mid-sentence when I see her. It. I know what that is.  An ungga-ungga or at least that’s what they call it in these parts, back in Bikol we just call them anananggal. The tour groups would always try to scare tourists with stories of the witch that flies with its guts hanging out. I don’t take another moment before I run like hell. I should have stayed in my house.

“Where is the food?!” Aish shouts again. “This is no time to think about your stomach!” I scream as I run alongside him. I don’t think I’ll ever get Malaysians. “I’m serious!” he shouts again, so why not, if the guy wants his last meal then I won’t stop him. “It’s behind the tent.”

Aish dashes to the tent and the ungga-ungga follows him. I was never the brave one but Aish is still my friend. Kind of. I have to run back and get him. I see him with a pineapple and he throws it at the thing and hits it. I don’t know what’s happening but the ungga-ungga screams and flies away.

I just stand there, confused.

“Where I come from, pineapples are grown because their thorns keep the Penanggalan away. The thorns go into their lungs and intestines which makes it harder for them to fly. I knew that would work just as well here.” Aish smiles and hands me some snacks.

“You hungry?”

=——————————————-=

*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
Translation by Monmon Nietes
Copyright © Karl Gaverza
Translation Copyright © Monmon Nietes

Inspired by the Ananaggal entry in Bikol Beliefs and Folkways: A Showcase of Tradition. Nasayao 2010.

Anananggal Illustration by Leandro Geniston fromAklat ng mga Anito
FB: That Guy With A Pen

Watercolor by Catherine Chiu
FB: Wildling Child
IG: https://www.instagram.com/wildlingchild/

*Note this story is in Bicol-Miraya

Magpon 2019, baga nagpara pula ang langit pagnagririknum.

Aram ko kin nyanga.

Kiton mo, yatong mga kaw’y na aralangkawon.

Kaypwan sinda malinigan.

Hay, nasobran naman ako sa kakaysip.

Uni ang aram san ubos.

Yading pandemya naapektwan ubos, dakulon ang naospital, nagralockdown, dakulon ang naguran.

Rumdom ko pa nung munang magkaCovid ako. Makapangluluya, makawara gana, makauyam na grabe.

Pero nalampasan ko. Usad ako sa mga sinwerte pa man.

Wara ka na talaga magiginibo pag nawaran ka ning pamarong dangan pangnamit. Byu nako sato nagakawn ning krayola ta tibad barang magbalik su pangnamit ko. Pero wara nangyari.

Pasensiya na. Nawara naman ako.

Ang mga naguran sa pandemic sige ang alangkaw, nag sampulo, nag sanggagtos, hanggang nag riboribo na. Baga ka imposible. Paguna ko sa mga palabas sana yadi pwede mangyari.

Su mga gurangon na, su mga ma-edad na ang pirming nabibiktima.

Pirang mga gurang na ang indi na makikita ang mga makuapo ninda.

Kadakol.

Riparon mo baya pag nagririknum.

Ayo mga kwan na pigangal na salakap.

Mga espiritu sinda  na nagadarang ilang didi sa daga.

Sakay ning saday na bangka, nagasabay sinda sa paros na amihan tanganing darawn su mga nagkagururan sa utos, naguran sa pagudo-udo dangan pag suko ning dugo, su mga naguran sa trangkaso – ubos sinda didara sa Kiyabusan.

Kaya nung nagkapandemya, nagruluwasan su mga salakap.

Ngana naman na ayo balita sading monkey pox, mas dakol pang mga kalag ang dadarawn san mga salakap sa Kiyabusan.

Nya uno ang kinaraman sadi pag nagririknum?

Kiton mo yatong mga kaw’y.

Utong mga aralangkawon.

Kita mo, ang mga salakap ayo man lider.

Si Tumangkuyun.

Trabaw ninda na daran siya ning dugo.

Kaya bukon sana kalag san mga naguran sa pandemic ang pigadara ninda sa Kiyabusan, naga tipon man sinda ning dugo san mga nagkagururan.

Su mga kaw’y dapat pirmi malinig.

Nasabutan mo?

Pigalinigan ninda yatong mga kaw’y  satong mga dugo alin sa mga nagkagururan.

Kaya ibaon na pagnagririknum.

Indi magulay, ang langit mas lalo pang maga para pula pag nagririknum na.

=——————–=

English Version

The sunsets seem redder since 2019.

And I know why.

See, there are trees that hold up the sky.

And they must be cleansed.

Oh, I’m getting ahead of myself.

Let’s head back to what everyone knows.

The pandemic spared no one, completely filling emergency rooms, starting lockdowns and releasing a wave of death that will ripple many years in the future.

I still remember the first time I was stuck in a Covid ward. I had never felt so powerless, so filled with despair and anguish.

But I survived. I was one of the lucky ones.

No one can really prepare for the loss of smell and taste. I actually ate crayons to try to test if my senses would come back. Safe to say they didn’t.

I’m off topic again, I’m sorry.

The pandemic’s numbers steadily rose, from tens to hundreds to thousands. Numbers that I thought weren’t possible. Numbers that I thought were only real in movies.

It targeted the elderly the most.

How many grandparents would never see their grandchildren again?

Too much.

And we head back to the sunsets.

There are creatures called the salakap.

Those that bring epidemic sickness to earth.

They travel in a huge outrigger (adiyung) and sail with the northeast winds through the high regions and carry back to the realm of Kiyabusan those that have died from smallpox, dysentery, flu and other epidemic diseases.

And they were never as busy as they were when the pandemic hit.

Now with the news of monkey pox they will bring more souls to Kiyabusan.

Now what does that have to do with sunsets?

Again we go back to the trees.

The ones that hold up the sky.

See, the salakap have a leader.

Their name is Tumangkuyun.

And it is their duty bound by blood.

The salakap not only bring the souls of those that have died in epidemics to Kiyabusan, they also collect the blood from those that died.

The trees must be kept clean.

Do you follow me?

They clean the trees with that blood.

The sunsets have never been the same since.

And it might not be long.

Before the skies are painted.

A foreboding scarlet.

=——————————————–=

*Bikol Miraya is a dialect spoken in Daraga, Camalig, and Pilar. It is different from Bikol Sorsogon as Bikol Sorsogon and Bikol Masbate have similarities with Visayan Languages.

Inspired by the Tumangkuyun description in Tagbanuwa Religion and Society. Fox. 1982.

Tumangkuyun Illustration by Race De Villa

IG: @corvus_blanc

*Note this story is in Bicol-Legazpi

Ginuno’ sa suraton ni Mari Bas:

Uminagi ako kaito sa rona kan Bikol kan makasabat ako ki sarong klase ki asbo na orog na makaintresantehon para sakuya.
An lawason kainiyo kabaing kan kada’luman kan banggi, makakurabon sagumsomon. Alagad ini, bakong lalagon bako agid kan lain pang kaarog niya.

Taramon kan manga gurang, an manga naghehelang nanggad an dapat mahahandal kainiyong sinasa’ban na ini ta’ dae man ini nangangayam ki laman.

Hinarapot ko sinda kun ano’n pigkakan kainiyo dangan an simbag ninda “hati’ ki tawo”. Huli ta dae ko nasabutan na maray an boot ninda sabihin, pigikog-ikogan ko ki sarong semana su saro sa linalang, sa kamuyahan ko man na maisihan an manga kahiloman kainiyo.
Narumduman ko an sakuyang kaaraman manungod sa organong pamarong. An makapamarong nagpupuon hali sa panhimationg suldan pasisiring sa alintak. An parong minaabot sa lanob-lanob kan dungo o sa agihan kan paros na minasugpon sa ngaragngag kan halunan pasiring man sa dungo. An pangnamit buda an pamarong magkatabang. Kun punod man an dungo, an parong dae makaantos sa panhimationg suldan na pigpaurog pa kan sango.

An kahayagang ini ginibong orog na makahati’on pa an sakong naaraman manungod sinasa’ban.

Pano’pano’ ki makasumosumo na parong an linalang na ini, muyahon ki surusi’pon buda hati’hati’ ki igwang helang. Dawa an makadurudismayong namasta’ nang parong dadarahon an linalang sa kaugmahan. Muyahon nanggad ini kan linalang, nangangayam baya na garo lalaw na gadya, parong an pigsususogan.

Paladan man ako ta saro sa partidaryo kan parangurag ko malain an pagmati, huli kaini naobserbaran ko an gibogibo kainiyo mantang ini nangangayam.

An sinasa’ban hali sa manga puon ki kahoy na pigharung-harungan kainiyo. Sa labilabing pagkahipno sa namasta nang parong, nasususog kainiyo an kagharong na igwang helang. Dangan, garu man sana igwang pigsunod na oras, burubangging pigpapara’ kainiyo an labilabing punaw. An naghehelang na kaito minarara pa lugod an namamatian.

Naghururonhuron kami kan manga gurangan kan barrio, an taramon ninda luwayluway na pigsusurop kan linalang an burabod nin buhay kan saiyang pigbiktima, sagkod na an helang kan makaherakonon na kalag luminakop na.

Dae ko na naobserbaran pa na maray an linalang kan ini biyong pinarayo kan manga tawo buda kan parangurag ko, buda maraoton man baga kaya sa sakuyang lado kun mumuyahon ko na igwa pa ki naghehelang an madipisilan buda maghingagdan ta muya ko pa maobserbaran na maray an mampak na ito.

Naghali ako sa rona kan Bikol makarihis an pirang aldaw, sa natatadang oras pigparasagunsong ko na sana an kadlagan ta naglalaom man giraray ako na madudukayan nu manunutaran ko an sinasa’ban duman sa saiyang pigiistaran. Nagpatabang ako sa sakuyang parangurang na magkua ki udo ki karabaw, pantaon lamang nganing magluwas an linalang sa saiyang pigsasalagan.

Dae ko biyong mataram an makadidigwaon na pangyari kan mahiling ko an pagkakan kan linalang ki hati’ kan ibang linalang mantang ini garu ugmahonon pa. Mala nanutaran ko na napapagalunong maray an karabaw kun minakakan an linalang na naunambitan, tamaonon nanggad an tina’wang duon kan manga gurangan duman.

An sinasa’ban makangangalas na linalang, makadidiskwido sa sadiri kainiyong paagi.

Lugod man dae ko na maparong nuarin pa man an namasta nang presensya kainiyo.
=————————————————————=

English Version

From the notes of Mari Bas:

As I was going through the Bicol region I came across a particular kind of aswang that piqued my interest.

Its form was a being as black as night, terrifying to behold. Yet it was not as aggressive as others of their kind.

The elders say that only the sick should fear the sinasa’ban since it does not hunt for flesh.

I asked them what it feeds on and they simply said “the waste of humans”. Not knowing what they meant, I followed one of the creatures for a week, seeking to know its secrets.

I recall my knowledge about the olfactory organs. That the ability to smell comes from sensory cells directly connected to the brain. Smells reach either through the nostrils or through the channel that connects the roof of the throat to the nose. The sense of taste goes hand in hand with the sense of smell. When the nose is congested odors can’t reach the sensory cells stimulated by smell.

That information made my discoveries about the sinasa’ban all the more disgusting.

The beast is intoxicated by fetid smells, particularly the phlegm and excreta of the sick. Even the faintest scent sends it into a state of elation. It seeks the cause of the smell, hunting like a rabid dog, guided by the smell.

It was fortunate that one of my guide’s family members fell ill. I was able to observe the creature during its hunt, as it were.

The sinasa’ban came from the trees it called its home and, seemingly possessed by the smell, locates the sick person’s abode. And then, like clockwork, every night satiates its unnatural hunger. I saw that the ill person had taken a turn for the worse once the sinasa’ban started to feed.

I consulted with the elders of the village and they said that the creature slowly absorbs the victim’s life essence, causing the poor soul’s illness to progress.

I was not able to observe the creature further as my guide and others from his village chased it away, and it would be remiss of me to want to have the sinasa’ban claim a life just so I may know more about the beast.

I leave the region in a few days, time I spent going into the forest hoping to find the sinasa’ban in its natural habitat. I asked my guide to help me collect the dung of carabaos, which lured the creature out from its hiding place.

It cannot be put into words the sheer nausea I had watching the creature eat excrement and it seemingly enjoying it. I noted that the carabaos seemed to get more exhausted as the creature was feeding, it seemed that the elders were correct in their assertion.

The sinasa’ban remains a curious creature, dangerous in its own way.

I hope I will never have to smell its presence ever again.

=———————————————————————=

The Bikol languages or Bicolano languages are a group of Central Philippine languages spoken mostly in the Bicol Peninsula in the island of Luzon, the neighboring island province of Catanduanes and the island of Burias in Masbate. There is a dialect continuum between the Visayan languages and the Bikol languages; the two together are called the Bisakol languages.

The Tabaco-Legazpi-Sorsogon (TLS) dialect is spoken in the eastern coast of Albay and the northeastern part of Sorsogon. TLS is the dialect that has been most influenced by the Inland Bikol languages.

Written by Karl Gaverza
Translation by Brian Nalagon
Copyright © Karl Gaverza
Translation Copyright © Brian Nalagon

Inspired by the Sinasa’ban description in Merito B. Espinas, ‘The supernatural world of the ancient Bikols,’ in Unitas, vol. 41, no. 2, 1968 pp. 188-189 in Intersections: Gender and Sexuality in Asia and the Pacific
Monograph 1: The Philippines at the Turn of the Sixteenth Century – Malcolm W. Mintz (2011)

Illustration by Rob Cham

FB: https://www.facebook.com/robocham

Website: robcham.com

Twitter: twitter.com/robcham

IG: instagram.com/robcham

*Note this story is in Tagalog

May bago akong kaibigan.

Ang pangalan niya ay Aura. Bata siya na katulad ko, pero hindi ko siya nakita sa kapitbahayan namin noon.

Naisip ko na kakaiba na lagi siyang may dalang payong, tapos isinama niya akong lumipad na gamit ito. Napakasaya ang nangyari!

Sinabi niya sa akin na pwede kaming maglaro sa bahay niya at dinala niya ako sa isang malaking bato. Akala ko nagbibiro lang siya, pero nang hawakan niya ang bato, naging isang malaking palasyo ito. Sobrang nagulat ako!

Noong aalis na ako, binigyan niya ako ng madaming barya na pilak at pinilit niya akong ipangako na hindi ko sasabihin kung saan ko iyon nakuha sa kahit kanino. Sinabi niya na siya ay isang enki… enko…. engkantada at may mga masasamang mangyayari sa akin kapag nagsabi ako ng tungkol sa kanya.

Itinago ko ang mga barya sa ilalim ng aking kama, pero hindi ko inisip na iyon ay maganda. Magmula noon, nagkasakit si Lola at pumunta na sa langit. Si Kuya ay nabangga ng kotse at nasa ospital ngayon. Binabantayan siya ni Mama pero tingin ko ay nagkakasakit na din siya.

Gusto kong sabihin kay Papa ang tungkol kay Aura at baka may ginawa siya, pero nadidinig ko ang huni ng hangin at ang tunog ng payong niya sa labas ng aking bintana kapag gabi.

Nadidinig ko siyang tumatawa.

Hindi ako naniniwalang mabuti siyang kaibigan.

=———————————————=
English Version

I made a new friend.

Her name was Aura, she was a kid just like me but I never saw her around the neighborhood before.
I thought it was strange that she always carried an umbrella around, but then she took me flying with it. It was so much fun!

She told me we could play in her house and she took me to this big rock. I thought she was joking but when she touched it, it turned into a big palace. I was so surprised!

When I was about to leave she gave me so many silver coins and she made me promise not to tell anyone where I got them. She told me she was an enki-… enko…. engkantada and that bad things would happen to me if I told on her.
I kept the coins under my bed but I don’t think they were good coins. Since then, Lola got sick and went to heaven. Kuya had a car crash and now he’s in the hospital. Mama’s with him but I think she’s getting sick too.

I want to tell Papa about Aura and that maybe she did something, but every night I can hear the sound of the wind and her umbrella outside my window.
I can hear her laughing.

I don’t think she’s a very good friend.

=————————————————————=

*Note this story is in Bicol-Naga

May manga oras na, kung tutugotan, ang manga segundo inu-unat sa manga taon. Ang panahon kadakul na manga amo, pero mayo kapoderoso arog kan takot.  Ine haloy ko nang nanudan.

Ito . . .  Siya  . .   .  Dae ko aram kung papano ipaliwanag kung ano man ito. Basta, bigla na sanang nagbutwa itoo sa atubangan ko, ay bako, bakong dale-dale.  Nagi-girumdoman ko ang tanog kan nagrara-ngisnis na manga dahon, ang malumbay na ngisi kan sarong lalake, asin ang parong kan tabako. Nunka ko malilingawan ang eksperiensyang ine.

Halangkaw siya, garo-higante kalangkaw. Sinup-sup ang saiyang tabako asin tumiruhok sakuya.

Ay, nanginginotan ako sa sakong sadire. Kan aldao na ‘idto nagtratrabaho ako sa oma na harane sa kadlagan, pigpapa-alang ang mga linabhan, asin siniguro na ang mga aanihon naka-andam na kan ako nagtukaw sa lindong nin Balete.

Pagmata ko yaon na siya.  Nag-turuhok ang samuyang manga mata o pagmate ko naglakaw ang manga aldaw, hasta na tinarog niya ang silencio.

“Tara, namu-muotan ta ka.”

Nagkadarangog ko na ang manga istorya nin pagkamuot kan Kapre sa manga babaye.  Nagi-giromduman ko ngani ang istorya ni Juana na pigparaikog-ikogan ni Kapre, asin nagbalyo pa ine ning porma para siya maging nobyo.  Binadil siya kan mga pulis, alagad kan nirikesa ang nilalang yaon sana ang halangkaw na kahoy ning batag na may manga labot gikan sa tama kan manga bala.

Mayo ang bala makaka-salbar sakuya, dae ko aram kung ano ang puede. Tolo na simpleng tataramon ang nagparalizar nin pagkatakot sako asin naghehebi akong nagsimbag,

“Dae ta ka namu-muotan! Dae ta ka ngani bistado.”

Mababasa sa pandok ni Kapre ang dapat kong maaraman. Nakulugan ko siya. Mas urog pa kakulog sa totoong pagbadil.

Nagsupsup nin tabako si Kapre asin nagngirit.

“Mabibisto mo ako asin mamu-muotan mo ako.”

Tapos nawara siya duman sa kahoy.

Ang misteriosong parte iyo na tama siya. Perang taon ang nakalagpas asin naghuhuna ako na susunod-sunodon ako kaineng nilalang.  Mayo akong paglaom na ito . . . siya . . . magigin amigo, asin mas pa.

Ang buhay pano-pano nin paglaom na mayo man kaa-abutan; mas pa pano nin mga sorpresa.

Yaon si Kapre sa kada pagkasawi, kada iriwal sa samuyang pamilya. Yaon siya kan nawara ko ang sakong matua, asin kan nagdarakula na pusog ang iba ko pang mga aki.

Sa pa-agi nin manga sadit na bagay pinaheling niya ang saiyang presensia.  Natagiti nin manga gapo-gapo, ang sango kan tabako na dará-dara kan duros, asin pirme nang mate ko na yaon siya. Ang silensiong protektor.

Ang kabalos iyo ang pag-preserbar kan saiyang ini-istaran, ang kahoy na Balete na harong niya alagad garo man sana sakong harong.  Dae ko mabibilang ang manga banggi, nagdadalan kang manga bituon kaibahan ko siyang nari-riparo sakuya.

Asin ngonyan na nakatukaw digde, 80 tag-init na kan buhay ko ang naka-agi.  Iyo, yaon ako sa may Balete kan sakuyang padaba.

“Midbid ta ka, asin namu-muotan.”

=————————————————=

English Version

There are moments that stretch into years if you let them. Time has many masters, but none more potent than fear, this I learned many years ago.

It….He… I don’t know how to describe whatever it was. It just suddenly appeared before me, no, not suddenly. I remember the sound of rushing leaves, the soft laughter of a man and the smell of tobacco. I could never forget it.

He was tall, taller than any human had any right to be. He took a puff from his cigar and just stared at me.

I’m getting ahead of myself. I was doing chores in the field next to the forest, drying the laundry and making sure that the harvest would be ready when I sat under the Balete tree for some shade.

I woke up and he was there. We stared at each other for what felt like days, until he broke the silence.

“Hello, I love you.”

I had heard stories of the Kapre falling in love with human women before. I even remember a story of a girl named Juana who was stalked by her Kapre and the creature even changed form to be that of her lover. It was shot at by police officers but when they looked at the creature they only found a tall banana tree with bullet holes.

Bullets couldn’t save me now, I didn’t know what could. Three simple words were all that it took to paralyze me with fear and I cried as I said my reply.

“I don’t love you, I don’t even know who you are.”

The look on the Kapre’s face told me all I needed to know. I had hurt it. Far more than if I had taken a gun and shot it.
He took another drag out of his cigar and smiled.

“You will know me, and you will love me.”

Then, he vanished into his tree.

The strange part was he was right. Years had passed and I expected to be stalked by a monster, I had never expected that it… he… would become my friend, and then something more.

Life is full of expectations that are never met; it is even more full of surprises.

The Kapre was there through every broken heart, every fight with my family. He was there when I lost my first child, and when my other children grew to be strong.

He would show his presence in the small ways, a shower of stone outside my house, the smell of his cigar wafting on the wind, but I always knew he was there. A silent protector.

In return I would never let anyone harm his home, the Balete tree was as much my home as it was his. I spent countless nights, watching the stars with him watching over me.

And here I sit, 80 summers have passed through my life and I am under the Balete tree with my love.

“I know you, and I have loved you.”

=—————————————————=

*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 Patricia P. SanJose
Copyright © Karl Gaverza
Translation Copyright © Patricia P. SanJose

Inspired by the Kapre Myths and description in Creatures of Philippine Lower Mythology. Ramos. 1971.

Kapre Illustration by Abe Joncel Guevarra
Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/abe.art.ph/joncel/ 

*Note this story is in Bicol-Naga

Tano ta kinakatakutan mo ang kagadanan?

Maistorya ako saimo.

Kaidtong haloy nang panahon may mayaman na babaye nakaistar harane sa dagat.  Habo siya ning manga bisita ta husto na sana ang katuninongan dulot kan saiyang dakulang harong.  Aldaw-banggi yaon siya sa baybayon, sinasaro-saro an mga bituon siring man ang tipasi kan baybay.

Solomente ang amigo niya, bako ine ordinaryong persona, ta bako man tawo. Ini-ibahan siya ni anino ni kagadanan para maginhawaan ang saiyang kapungawan.  Enot na nagkatuparan ang duwa kan nagadan si ina kan babaye.  Dae arog sa kadaklan na tawo, mayong takot ang babaye na nagtaong-galang sa anino ni kagadanan.

“Tano ta dae ka nagdalagan sa takot?” Naghapot ang anino. “Ta ika parte sa pag-gibo nin kagayunan kan buhay.”

Nungka nadangog kan anino ni kagadnan na siya magayon o may gayon asin ine dae huminale sagkod na natapos ang larao. Iyan ang ritual na naproprotektar sa hawak kan ina o siisay man na gadan sa manga malaen o gustong mag-kulog kaine.  Namoot ang anino sa babaye ta siya pa sana na tawo ang nagtao nin totoong galang ki kagadanan.

Si anino ni kagadanan maselos asin gusto na masadire ang babaye.  Sinonod niya ang babaye sa baybayon asin pinagisipan na lunudon para sagkod pa man nakakugos saiya ang babaye.

Kaya lang bako man tonta ineng babaye.  Naaraman niya ang plano ni anino.  Naghale siya sa harong asin binisita ang saiyang lola.  Kawasa ang lola niya poderoso o may kusog na sinayumahan niya kaidto.  Paabot na si anino, dae nang padudumanan ang babaye.

Nangalas si anino kan na-abotan ang babaye.  Mayong kagadanan ang nagin ni babaye, mayo nang kugos ang makokomple ni anino.

Pero dae binayaan ni babaye si anino.  Aram-araman niya ang katikasan kan pigtiwalaan na amigo, asin mayo muna siya mapahingalo sagkod na makabalos. Kada mina-mayong galang ang kagadanan sa pa-agi nin larao, yaon ang babaye duman.  Ta ang magrapak iyo ang premio ni anino.

Dae mo katakutan ang kagadanan.

Katakutan mo ang kasunod.

=———————————————————-=

English Version

Why should you fear death?

Let me tell you a story.

A long time ago, there was a rich woman who lived by the sea. She would not have any visitors, for she liked the quiet that her large house gave her. She would spend her days and nights by the beach, counting each star and each grain of sand.

She had but one friend, not like any person in the world, for it was not a person at all. The shadow of death would spend time with her to ease her loneliness. They first met when death’s shadow claimed the woman’s mother. She was not afraid as most people would have been and greeted the shadow politely.
“Why are you not running in fear?” The shadow asked. “You are part of what makes life beautiful.” The woman answered.

Death’s shadow had never been called beautiful before and it stayed until the woman finished the larao, the ritual ceremony to protect her mother’s body from those that would harm it after death. The shadow fell in love with the woman then, for it had never met a human who respected death such as she did.

Death’s shadow was a jealous thing and it wanted the woman all to itself. It had followed her to the seaside and had planned to drown the woman, so that she may be in death’s embrace forever.

The woman was no fool, though and knew what the shadow had planned. She left her house and visited her grandmother. For you see, the old woman had great power that was once rejected by her granddaughter. The woman had no choice, death’s shadow was approaching.

When the shadow caught up to the woman it was surprised. She had become deathless, she would never know the shadow’s embrace.

The woman would not leave death’s shadow though. She had known the betrayal of a trusted friend, and she would not rest until she had her revenge. Every time death was not respected through the larao, she would be there. Desecrating what would have been the shadow’s prize.

You should not fear death.

Fear what comes after.

=———————————————————————=

*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 Patricia P. SanJose
Copyright © Karl Gaverza
Translation Copyright © Patricia P. SanJose

Inspired by the Aswang (Capiz) description in Creatures of Philippine Lower Mythology. Ramos. 1971.

Aswang (Capiz) Illustration by Leandro Geniston from Aklat ng mga Anito
FB: That Guy With A Pen

Watercolor by Catherine Chiu
FB: Wildling Child
IG: https://www.instagram.com/wildlingchild/

*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.

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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.

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*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
Tumblr: http://mykieconcepcion.tumblr.com/