Alikas nën Anselmo ya manggiwgiw so lima to nën intanëm to so pilimiron bukël. Amta to ya ag labay na hari na palandëy so gagawaën to, natataktakot mët diad nagawad sikato. Balët, balëg so nagamoran ëd saman. No makpël labat iray managtanëm, sarag dan nisabi ëd tagëy na palandëy so tabakon itatanëm da.

Binukay so dalin insan inkotkot so bukël.

Aman a labi, akogip nën Anselmo so hari. Wala rad katakëlan, mankaarapan. Amitlon tinapik na hari so dalin, insan taloran mëlanting a too so pinmaway diman. Inmësaës so hari balët ag to narëngël nën Anselmo, kasumpal to, binmatik iray mëlanting papaway na katakëlan.

Atilak si Anselmo tan imay hari, balët singa ag nanënëngnëng na hari so lakin natatakot. Tinapik lalamët na hari so dalin na amitlo tan mas amayamay so pinmaway iran mëlanting. Mankëlaw si Anselmo katon tinumbok to iramay mëlanting pian nëngnëngën no antoy gagawaën da.

Nën asabi to so sampot na katakëlan, inmangës sikato ëd samay apatnagan to, adasig so tanëm a tabako anggad nasabi na pakanëngnëng to. Natan labat akanëngnëng sikato na unman a karakël a tabako. Okupadon mantatanëm na mas amayamay nin tabako iramay mëlanting. Binilang nën Anselmo so nilasos a mëlanting a mankikimëy ëd saman a dalin.

Inëmbënan to may sakëy ya mëlanting insan to tinëpët no antoy gagawaën da. “Siyempre, para ya ëd hari,” balikas to may mëlanting, “kaukulaan na hari so tabako pian makasigarilyo.” Binmëneg may mëlanting ëd si Alselmo tan man-ëlëk ëd kaambagëlan na tëpët to.

Diman tinmunda so pankokogip to, ëd samay mëlanting tan samay tanëm a tabako. Manparok so puso nën Anselmo, karuman to labat intanëm imay pilimiron bukël, balët nononotën to la no antoy nagawan dusa ëd sikato.

Pigan agëw ya nan-gonigon sikato, nodnonotën ton ëkalën la may bukël a intanëm to. Ag makarëën so kanonotan to diad dusan onsabid sikato.

Siansia ni, anggapoy nagagawa. Onsasabi ni agëw tan nababalang ni so bulan kaibad labi. Mankukukaok ni so lalong ëd parehon oras inagëw-agëw, tan unbubuna nin siansia iray tabako diad Kanlaon.

Ag binmayag, naimano na arom ya linmampas lad golis so pantatanëman nën Anselmo. Binmalëg so maagom dan mata ëd naalan yaman, katon inawit da mët iray gawa dan bukël na tabako insan nantanëm diad pantatanëman nën Anselmo.

Balët, anggapo nin siansia so agawa. Apanoy tabako so entiron Kanlaon.

Wala ray arom a nampasakbay ëd saray managtanëm. “Nonot yo no antoy imbaga na hari! No dia tayo nantanëm, alaën to so entiron tabako insan to sigarilyoën ya amin!”

Balët anggapoy undëdëngël ëd panangasi da. Anggad maong a too ët napëpërëng ëd yaman.

Diad labi, wala ray nandaragop palibër ëd sakëy ya pool tan man-iistorya nipaakar ëd hari na palandëy. Ta no akin ët walay pakapanyari to ëd mundo balët pinili to so man-ayam kaiba ray totoo nën say man-olëy ëd sikara.

Ninonot da may nën binilin ira na hari ya ag ira mantatanëm diad lampas na linyan impagolis to ëd saray mëlanting palibër tan asinggër ëd tapëw na palandëy. Pantotongtongan da may agëw ya tinmaynan so hari. No panonto may akis na saray totoo nën impaamta man na hari.

“Say bilin ko labat ët ag kayo mantatanëm diad lampas to may golis ëd tagëy, no ag yo ya inonor, alaën kon amin so tabako insan anggapo mët la so balon unboyag diad gilig a palandëy anggad ag ko nasusumpal ya sigarilyoën man ya amin.” Tinapik tan inlukas na hari so dalin, insan abalang sikatod palandëy.

Intoor na totoo imay sipan da balët, siyempre, tinmunda ëd si Anselmo.

Anggano nid amin lan agawa, nantanëm nin siansia sikato na amayamay ya tabako. Anonotan to may kogip to, imay panlabay to na say pasol to ët singa may unman mët ëd hari, onsasabi anggad sampot a pakanengneng.

Kayari na pigan taon ët alingwanan lay totoo so hari na palandëy anggad samay sipan da ëd sikato.

Atanëman lay tabako so entiron palandëy na Kanlaon insan yinmaman la ray totoo lapod saray naaani da.

Anggad saray simplin too ët mikakasakëy ëd saray magarbon pistan gagawaën da. Singa anggapo so makapampatunda ëd panagselebra na totoo diad nala dan balon yaman.

Balët, tinmunda nën linmukas so dalin insan amawil imay hari na palandëy.

Unaan ya tinmaynan si Anselmo. Nalilikna toy giwgiw anggad pukë-pukël to, amta to ya sinmabi la so agëw na pambayaran ton amin so ginawa to. Ag mët la linmingaw sikato nën maplës a binmatik palëksab na palandëy.

Makapaërmen ya nëngnëngen so sinmublay. Nën saman a napnoy tabako, natan ët anggapo la so tanëm a nanëngnëng ëd Kanlaon. Ag makapanisia iray managtanëm ya unman labat kapëlës a nabalang iray tanëm da, alingwanan da lay tuan pakapanyari na hari.

Marëndëën so totoo, singa amta da lay nagawa. Kabëbëkta, sinmabog ëd dagëm so tapëw na palandëy ya nan-gaway abot a napnoy pool tan asëwëk.

Alabas lan maong so nagagawa ya ag mët la nanyarian na anggad say sangkamakpëlan ëd sikara. Nanlumbaan iray totoo ëd amin na direksiyon, natatakot ëd sanok na hari.

Aman a labi, nankogip si Anselmo.

Makapal ya asëwëk so pinmatnag ëd arap nën Anselmo. Inmukok sikato anggad anëngnëng to may hari ya masisisgarilyo na tabako. Tinmalimukor sikato san kinmërëw na perdona.

Balët ag lalamët naimano na hari si Anselmo. Amitlon tinapik na hari so dalin insan pinmaway iray mëlanting. Nan-awit iramay mëlanting na tabakon iyarom dimad samay sigarilyoën na hari.

Apaliberay asëwëk so palandëy na unsësëlëk anggad saray lëtak. Singa puwersan manpapairap. Alikas nën Anselmo ya singa natëtërak so pagëw to lapod samay amayamay ya nasusungap ton asëwëk.

Insan abangon sikato.

Linmipas iray taon tan wala la ray totoon pinmawil ëd palandëy. Nanlëtnëg iray purok dia rad diking to, balët anggapo lay masibëg odino siopan ambagël a mantanëm na tabako diad palandëy.

Anggapoy makaamta no anto lay nanmaliwa ëd Anselmo, ibabaga na arom ya inawit na hari sikato pian naitdan na niduduman dusa. Ibabaga da ray arom balët ya linmad arawi sikato ta babatikan toy sanok na hari.

Balët ag la bali, amta da ray totoo ya kapila mët iran nan-gaway aliwa. Anggapo so naitanëm ëd Kanlaon diad saray onsublay na henerasyon.

Anggapo anggad ag naupot na hari imay tabako to.

=————————————=

English Version

Anselmo felt his hands quiver as he planted the first seed. He knew what he was doing was against the wishes of the king of the mountain, and he was fearful of the price. Yet, there was so much to gain. Tobacco plants could stretch until the mountaintop if only the farmers had enough backbone to take the leap.

The earth was parted and the seed buried.

That night he dreamt of the king. They were in a forest facing each other. The king tapped the ground three times and small men sprang from the earth. The king said something Anselmo couldn’t hear and the small men ran towards the edges of the forest.

Anselmo and the king were left alone, but it seemed that the king couldn’t see the scared man. The king tapped the ground three more times and even more small men appeared. Alfonso was curious so this time he followed the small men to see what they were doing.

As he reached the end of the forest he gasped at the sight, rows of tobacco plants that extended towards the horizon. He had never seen so many tobacco plants. The small men were busy planting even more tobacco. Anselmo counted hundreds, no thousands of small men toiling in the fields.

He grabbed one of the small men and asked what they were doing. “Why this is for the king, of course,” said the small man, “the king needs his tobacco to smoke.” The small man then turned his back on Anselmo snickering at such a stupid question.

The dream ended there, with the small man and the tobacco plant. Anselmo’s heart was pounding, it was yesterday when he planted the first seed and he wondered what his punishment would be.

He agonized for days, wondering if he should take back the seed he planted. His mind raced for months about what his punishment would be.

Still, nothing happened. The sun still rose and the moon faded into the night. The roosters crowed at the same time every day and the tobacco plants grew around Kanlaon as they always have.

Soon, others noticed that Anselmo was planting above the line. Their eyes grew greedy with the promise of gold and they too took tobacco seeds and planted where Anselmo did.
And again, nothing happened. Kanlaon was filled to the brim with tobacco.

There were those that tried to warn the farmers. “Remember what the king said! If we plant here then he would carry all the tobacco away and smoke it all!”

Their cries fell on deaf ears. Money blinds even the most humble of men.

In the night there would be those that huddled around campfires and told the story of the king of the mountain. How he had absolute power over the earth, but sought to live alongside humans rather than rule over them.

They recounted how he had asked the people not to plant above a certain line that he had ordered his small men to draw around the mountain near the top. They told of the day when the king left. How the people shed tears at the kings pronouncement.

“I only ask that you will not plant above the line, if you do I will take all the tobacco away and no more shall grow along the mountainside until I have smoked it all.” The king tapped the ground and opened the earth, disappearing into the mountain.
The people kept their promise until Anselmo, of course.

Throughout all this he planted more tobacco. He remembered the dream, how he wished that his fields would look like the king’s, stretching until the horizon.

Years passed and the people forgot about the king of the mountain and their promise to him.

The mountain of Kanlaon was covered entirely by tobacco plants and the people grew rich and fat from their harvests.
Even the most humble of the people joined in the lavish fiestas that were held. It seemed like nothing could stop their celebrations of the people’s newfound wealth.

That is, until the earth opened and the king of the mountain returned.

Anselmo was the first to flee. He could feel the rumble in his bones and he knew the day of reckoning had come. He didn’t even look back as made a dash for the foot of the mountain.
It was a terrible sight to behold. Once filled with tobacco, Kanlaon was now bare. The farmers could not believe that their crops had disappeared so easily, but they had forgotten the true power of the king.

There was silence among the people, as if they knew what was about to happen. Suddenly the mountaintop exploded into the air, creating a crater filled with smoke and fire.

This was too much for even the bravest of them. The people fled in all directions, fearful of the king’s wrath.

That night Anselmo dreamed.

A thick cloud of smoke appeared before Anselmo. He coughed until he saw the king smoking tobacco. He went down on his knees and asked for forgiveness.

Again, the king did not notice his presence. He tapped the ground three times and small men appeared. The small men then brought more tobacco for the king to smoke.

Smoke filled the mountain, filling each crevice. It was an oppressive force. Anselmo felt his chest about to explode from inhaling so much smoke.

Then he awoke.

Years passed by and there were those that returned to the mountain. They set up their villages along the sides, but no one was brave or foolish enough to grow tobacco on the mountain.

No one knows what became of Anselmo, some say the king stole him away for special punishment. Others say that he moved far away, trying to escape the king’s wrath.

It does not matter, for the people know they are complicit in his crime. Nothing will be planted on Kanlaon for generations.

Not until the king is done smoking his tobacco.

*Pangasinan (Salitan Pangasinan) – sometimes called Pangasinense is one of the major languages of the Philippines. It is the language spoken in the province of Pangasinan, on the west-central seaboard of the island of Luzon along the Lingayen Gulf, the northern portion of Tarlac and southwestern La Union, most of whom belong to the Pangasinan ethnic group. Pangasinan is also understood in some municipalities in Benguet, Nueva Ecija, Nueva Vizcaya, and by the Aeta or Aeta of Zambales.

Written by Karl Gaverza

Translation by Dean Alfred Narra
Copyright © Karl Gaverza

Translation Copyright ©Dean Alfred Narra

Story adapted from THE TOBACCO OF HARISABOQUED http://www.sacred-texts.com/asia/pfs/pfs03.htm

Hari sa Bukid Illustration by Camille Chua
Instagram: @frillion
Facebook: Frillion‘

The post Hari sa Bukid – Pangasinan Translation appeared first on Philippine Spirits.

*Note this story is in Tagalog

Nanginginig ang kamay ni Anselmo habang siya ay nagtatanim. Alam niya na tuligsa sa kahilingan ng hari ng kagubatan ang kaniyang ginagawa at mayroon itong kabayaran. Ganoon pa man, marami siyang aanihin kapag ipagpapatuloy niya pa ito. Kung malakas lang ang loob ng mga magsasaka, lalawak ang tanim ng tabako hanggang sa maabot ang tuktok ng kabundukan.

Hinukay niya ang lupa at itinanim ang buto.

Sa gabing iyon napaginipan niyang magkaharap sila ng hari.Tinapik nito ang lupa nang tatlong beses at may mga maliliit na taong umusbong mula sa lupa. May sinabi ang hari pero hindi ito marinig ni Anselmo at nagsitakbuhan ang mga maliliit na tao sa kaduluduluhan ng kagubatan.

Mag-isa na lamang ang hari at si Anselmo. Mukhang hindi nito napansin na takot si Anselmo kaya ipinapagtuloy pa nito ang kaniyang ginagawa. Tinapik ulit ng hari ang lupa nang tatlong beses at lumabas ulit ang mga maliliit na tao. Dahil palaisipan kay Anselmo kung saan sila pumupunta at ano ang kanilang ginagawa, sinundan niya ang mga ito.

Pagdating niya sa dulo ng kagubatan, nabigla siya sa kaniyang nakita, hile-hilerang tabako ang nakatanim sa kaniyang harapan. Hindi siya makapaniwala sa dami tanim na umaabot hanggang sa kalayuan. Patuloy lang na nagtatanim ang mga nilalang sa bukid at nakita niya na libo-libo silang nagtatrabaho rito.

Kinuha niya ang isa roon at tinanong kung para saan ang ginagawa nito. “Lahat ng ito ay para sa mahal na hari,” sabi ng nilalang. “Kailangan ng hari ang hari ang tabako para sa kaniyang paninigarilyo” ipinagpatuloy pa nito. Tumalikod at tumawa ito dahil para sa kaniya hindi pinag-isipan ang itinanong sa kaniya.

Nagtapos ang kaniyang panaginip sa pangyayaring iyon. Kinakabahan si Anselmo dahil kahapon lang siya nagsimulang magtanim ng tabako at ngayon nagmumuni-muni siya sa kaniyang kaparusahan.

Ilang araw siyang nagdurusa at nagtataka kung tama ba ang ginawa niya o tama lang na bawiin na lang ang itinanim na buto. Buwan-buwan siyang natataranta kung anong nakalaan na kabayaran para sa kaniyang kamalian.

Sumikat at lumubog ang araw wala pa ring nangyayari. Nagpapatuloy lang ang paglawak ng tabako sa kalupaan ng Kanlaon.

Hanggang sa napansin ng ibang magsasaka na lumampas sa linya ang tinataniman ni Anselmo. Dahil sa pangamba na nilalamangan sila sa kíta, ginaya nila siya.

At ulit wala pa ring nangyayaring parusa. Mas lalo lang yumayabong ang tabako sa Kanlaon.

May mga iba na nagbabala sa mga magsasaka. “Naaalala niyo ba ang sinabi ng hari? Kapag nagtanim tayo na lampas sa lupa natin, uubusin niya lahat ang mga ito at gagamitin sa kaniyang paninigarilyo!”

Walang nakinig sa kanilang mga hinaing. Nakakasilaw ang pera sa mga pangkaraniwang tao.

Gumawa sila ng kampo at doon muna sila nanatili. Nang sumapit ang gabi, pumalibot sila sa apoy at nagkuwento tungkol sa hari ng kabundukan. Nagtataglay siya ng kapangyarihan sa buong kalupaan, pero mas pinili niyang mamuhay kasama ang mga tao sa halip na pamunuan ang mga ito.

Binilang nila kung ilang beses silang sinabihan ng hari na huwag magtatanim lagpas sa linya, na nakapaikot malapit sa tuktok ng kabundukan. Kinuwento nila ang araw kung kailan umalis ang hari at kung paano sila nagsiiyakan sa ipinahayag nito.

“Isa lang ang hinihiling ko sa inyo, at iyon ay huwag kayong magtatanim lagpas sa linyang ginawa ko. Kung susuwayin niyo ang aking hiling, kukuhanin ko lahat ng tabakong nakatanim dito, at wala nang tutubo sa buong kabundukan dahil magiging sigarilyo ko na ang mga ito.” Tinapik ng hari ang lupa at bumukas ang buong lupain hanggang naglaho siya sa kabundukan.

Tinupad ng mga tao ang kanilang pangako, at dumating si Anselmo.

Kahit na alam niya ang naganap na kasunduan, patuloy lang siyang nagtanim ng mas maraming tabako. Naalala niya ang panaginip, kung paano niya ninanais na ang kanyang mga bukirin ay magmukha ng sa hari, malawak hanggang sa abot-tanaw.

Lumipas ang mga taon nakalimutan na ng mga tao ang ipinangako nila sa hari.

Nababalot na ng tabako ang kabundukan ng Kanlaon at yumayaman ang mga tao dahil kanilang mga ani.

Dumarami ang mga taong nakikisaya sa mga marangyang kapistahan. Nagmumukhang hindi na magtatapos ang kanilang pagyaman bunga ng kanilang pagsasaka.

Iyon, hanggang sa bumukas ang kalupaan at nagbalik ang hari ng kabundukan.

Si Anselmo ang unang kumaripas ng takbo. Nararamdaman niya ang pagyanig at takot dahil alam niya na dumating na ang paghuhukom para sa kanilang mga kasalanan. Hindi na niya naisipang lumingon habang tumatakbo pababa sa paanan ng bundok.

Kagila-gilalas ang mga kaganapan sa Kanlaon. Ang dating malalagong mga tanim ay naglaho na parang bula. Hindi makapaniwala ang mga magsasaka na biglang mawawala ang kanilang mga pananim, nakalimutan nila kung gaano kalakas ang hari.

Nababalot ng katahimikan ang mga tao, na parang alam na nila kung ano ang mangyayari. Biglang sumabog ng tuktok ng bundok at naglalaman ito ng usok at apoy.

Sa lahat ng naganap, wala sino man ang hindi matatakot pati ang mga matatapang. Natataranta ang mga tao sa iba’t ibang direksyon bunga ng ipinamalas na galit hari.

Nang gabing iyon, nanaginip si Anselmo.

May makapal na usok sa kaniyang harapan. Naubo siya at nakita niya ang haring naninigarilyo. Lumuhod siya tapat nito at humingi ng kapatawaran.

Hindi napansin ng hari ang kaniyang prsensya. Tinapik nito ang lupa nang tatlong beses at may lumabas na maliliit na tao. Nagdala pa sila ng mga tabako para gamitin ng hari.

Nababalot ng usok ang buong kabundukan, at napupuno na rin ang mga butas nito. Napakalakas na yanig ang naramdaman sa paligid ng Kanlaon. Bumigat ang dibdib ni Anslemo dulot ng paghinga niya sa makapal ng usok.

At bigla siyang nagising.

Lumipas ang ilang taon at may namuhay ulit sa lugar. Nagtayo sila ng mga barrio sa gilid ng kabundukan, pero wala ng naglalakas loob na magtanim ulit ng tabako.

Walang nakakaalam sa kinahinatnan ni Anselmo, may nagsasabi na kinuha siya ng hari para sa kakaibang parusa. Ang sabi naman ng iba nagpakalayu-layo na siya para takasan ang hagupit nito.

Hindi na mahalaga kung nakipagsabwatan ang mga tao sa kasalanan ni Anselmo. Wala ng puwedeng maitanim sa kabundukan ng Kanlaon.

Habang hindi pa tapos ang kaniyang paninigarilyo.

=———————————————–=

English Version

Anselmo felt his hands quiver as he planted the first seed. He knew what he was doing was against the wishes of the king of the mountain, and he was fearful of the price. Yet, there was so much to gain. Tobacco plants could stretch until the mountaintop if only the farmers had enough backbone to take the leap.

The earth was parted and the seed buried.

That night he dreamt of the king. They were in a forest facing each other. The king tapped the ground three times and small men sprang from the earth. The king said something Anselmo couldn’t hear and the small men ran towards the edges of the forest.

Anselmo and the king were left alone, but it seemed that the king couldn’t see the scared man. The king tapped the ground three more times and even more small men appeared. Alfonso was curious so this time he followed the small men to see what they were doing.

As he reached the end of the forest he gasped at the sight, rows of tobacco plants that extended towards the horizon. He had never seen so many tobacco plants. The small men were busy planting even more tobacco. Anselmo counted hundreds, no thousands of small men toiling in the fields.

He grabbed one of the small men and asked what they were doing. “Why this is for the king, of course,” said the small man, “the king needs his tobacco to smoke.” The small man then turned his back on Anselmo snickering at such a stupid question.

The dream ended there, with the small man and the tobacco plant. Anselmo’s heart was pounding, it was yesterday when he planted the first seed and he wondered what his punishment would be.

He agonized for days, wondering if he should take back the seed he planted. His mind raced for months about what his punishment would be.

Still, nothing happened. The sun still rose and the moon faded into the night. The roosters crowed at the same time every day and the tobacco plants grew around Kanlaon as they always have.

Soon, others noticed that Anselmo was planting above the line. Their eyes grew greedy with the promise of gold and they too took tobacco seeds and planted where Anselmo did.
And again, nothing happened. Kanlaon was filled to the brim with tobacco.

There were those that tried to warn the farmers. “Remember what the king said! If we plant here then he would carry all the tobacco away and smoke it all!”

Their cries fell on deaf ears. Money blinds even the most humble of men.

In the night there would be those that huddled around campfires and told the story of the king of the mountain. How he had absolute power over the earth, but sought to live alongside humans rather than rule over them.

They recounted how he had asked the people not to plant above a certain line that he had ordered his small men to draw around the mountain near the top. They told of the day when the king left. How the people shed tears at the kings pronouncement.

“I only ask that you will not plant above the line, if you do I will take all the tobacco away and no more shall grow along the mountainside until I have smoked it all.” The king tapped the ground and opened the earth, disappearing into the mountain.
The people kept their promise until Anselmo, of course.

Throughout all this he planted more tobacco. He remembered the dream, how he wished that his fields would look like the king’s, stretching until the horizon.

Years passed and the people forgot about the king of the mountain and their promise to him.

The mountain of Kanlaon was covered entirely by tobacco plants and the people grew rich and fat from their harvests.
Even the most humble of the people joined in the lavish fiestas that were held. It seemed like nothing could stop their celebrations of the people’s newfound wealth.

That is, until the earth opened and the king of the mountain returned.

Anselmo was the first to flee. He could feel the rumble in his bones and he knew the day of reckoning had come. He didn’t even look back as made a dash for the foot of the mountain.
It was a terrible sight to behold. Once filled with tobacco, Kanlaon was now bare. The farmers could not believe that their crops had disappeared so easily, but they had forgotten the true power of the king.

There was silence among the people, as if they knew what was about to happen. Suddenly the mountaintop exploded into the air, creating a crater filled with smoke and fire.

This was too much for even the bravest of them. The people fled in all directions, fearful of the king’s wrath.

That night Anselmo dreamed.

A thick cloud of smoke appeared before Anselmo. He coughed until he saw the king smoking tobacco. He went down on his knees and asked for forgiveness.

Again, the king did not notice his presence. He tapped the ground three times and small men appeared. The small men then brought more tobacco for the king to smoke.

Smoke filled the mountain, filling each crevice. It was an oppressive force. Anselmo felt his chest about to explode from inhaling so much smoke.

Then he awoke.

Years passed by and there were those that returned to the mountain. They set up their villages along the sides, but no one was brave or foolish enough to grow tobacco on the mountain.

No one knows what became of Anselmo, some say the king stole him away for special punishment. Others say that he moved far away, trying to escape the king’s wrath.

It does not matter, for the people know they are complicit in his crime. Nothing will be planted on Kanlaon for generations.

Not until the king is done smoking his tobacco.

*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

Story adapted from THE TOBACCO OF HARISABOQUED http://www.sacred-texts.com/asia/pfs/pfs03.htm

Hari sa Bukid Illustration by Camille Chua
Instagram: @frillion
Facebook: Frillion‘

The post Hari sa Bukid – Tagalog Translation appeared first on Philippine Spirits.

*Note this story is in Karay-a / Kinaray-a

Nagtórok táy Manang Paula sa sulat nga tugyan ni Lolo Ambo kana. Luyag man daad nana nga tahaon ang mga handum ni Lolo na, túman gid tana ka budlay ang panag-on. Kinahanglan gid nana nga ibaligyâ ang lupâ agod to makabuul tana it igô nga kwarta agod to makasaylo tana sa diin nga may dyan it mayad nga sum-an ang anang pamilya. Nag pánaw táy Paula paagto sa kahoy kang Balete sa binit kang làtàgón. Warâ gid it iwag sa mga sangá kadyang gabii. Warâ tana it hinalung-ong kon buut hambalon kabáy ka rian malumbos run man ang mga tawo rudto sa kahoy.

“Pasayloha ako.” Naghurubag ang mga luhâ sa mga masluk ni Paula. “Man-an man nakun nga nag-saad táy Lolo Ambo nga warâ it matabô nga sayud sa inyo kahoy, kag nagpangabáy pa tana kanamun tanan nga iparig-unon ang saad nga ran, páy kinahanglan ko pillion ang labíng mayad sa akun pamilya. May balatian táy Lila kag indî run tamun makabàtas magbayad kang anang bulung. Indî man táy Roberto kasagap kang paramugunan. Sa… sangka iloy ako kag kinahanglan ko itugrô sa akun mga batâ ang kabuhî nga takus kananda.” Pinanas ni Paula ang mga luhâ sa bagiing na, “Patawada gid ako.”

Rudyan pa angod ang bulan sa kalangitan. Naglubas ang mga taknâ kag warâ may natabô. Warâ gid it pamaan, warâ gid it may makuon káy Paula nga namatî kana ang mga tawo sa kahoy. Warâ tana ka maan kon ano anang lauman, páy nagsarig tana nga may ihambal sanda kana. Bisan ano man.

Naghulat tana sa kahoy tubtob sa kaagahon kag sa madason, nag-agto tana sa anang balay kag nagsugod it pangbagtong.

Kang lumigad ang tatlo ka bulan, nagatorok táy Manang Paula sa anang mga kabataan kag nalipay gid tana makadalî kutub sa mabúhay nga tion. Nagadalagan táy Lila imaw kang anang mga pakaisa, nadumduman ni Manang Paula kon ano ka pígaw kon sulngon ang anang indáy nga nga gabatáng sa baratangán sa hospital kag naghambal tana it mahinay nga pangamuyô kang pagpasalamat. Nagpungkô tana kag nagsugod kang anang kinabatasan tagsa aga nga among pag basá kang pèríodiko.

Mabasahan sa headline na kadya “Ang Bag-ong Pag-uswag kang Pagrally kang mga Manugprotesta” nga bukun man it makatiringala, ang Construction Company ginpabangdan nga ginasudyot nanda sa mga local official nga pasapayan lamang nanda ang pagrangga sa palibot nga sanda tanda man ang nagahimô, páy máy ma-id-id nga dágway ang nagpatumbô kay Manang Paula sa anang purungkoan.

Tungud rian sa sangka maambung nga bahi nga nakapula nga naga pang-ulo sa mga nagaprotesta bátok sa sangka bulldozer.

Nagyuhum táy Manang Paula. Kon sa bagay, maámlìgan man nanda andang kaugalingon.

=———————————————————————-=

English Version

Manang Paula looked at the letter that Lolo Ambo left her. As much as she wanted to respect his wishes, times were hard. She had to sell the land to have enough money to move where it would be a better future for her family. Paula walked to the Balete tree in the edge of the field. There weren’t any lights in the branches tonight. She didn’t know if that meant the people in the tree were going toleave as well.

“I’m sorry.” The tears were starting to swell up in Paula’s eyes. “I know that Lolo Ambo promised that nothing would happen to your tree, and he asked all of us to keep that promise alive, but I have to choose what’s best for my family. Lila is sick and we can’t even afford her medicine anymore. Roberto can’t find a job. I… I am a mother and I need to give my children the life they deserve.”

Paula wiped away the tears from her cheek, “Please forgive me.”

The moon was still in the night sky. Hours passed and nothing happened. There was no sign, nothing to tell Paula that the people in the tree heard her. She didn’t know what to expect, but she had hoped that they would tell her something. Anything.

She waited by the tree until morning and afterwards, she went to her house and started packing.

Three months later, Manang Paula was looking at her children and she was happy for the first time in a long while. Lila was running around playing with her cousins, Manang Paula remembered how weak her little girl looked in the hospital bed and she said a soft prayer of thanksgiving. She sat down and started her morning tradition of reading the newspaper.

The headline read “Protesters Rally New Development” which wasn’t surprising; the construction company had been accused of bribing the local officials so they could ignore the environmental destruction they were causing, but a certain picture almost made Manang Paula jump out of her seat.

It was of a beautiful girl in red leading the protesters against a bulldozer.

Manang Paula smiled. They could take care of themselves after all.

=———————————————————–=

*The Karay-a language, or Kinaray-a is an Austronesian regional language spoken by the Karay-a people, mainly in Antique in the Philippines, Iloilo and other provinces on the island of Panay, as well as portions of the SOCCSKSARGEN region in Mindanao. It is one of the Visayan languages, mainly along with Aklanon/Malaynon, Capiznon and Hiligaynon. As of 2015, there is an estimated 1,200,000 speakers of Kinaray-a with almost half of them are from Antique and Iloilo provinces.

Written by Karl Gaverza

Translation by En

Copyright © Karl Gaverza

Translation Copyright © En

Inspired by ‘The Fairy of Balete Tree’ in Philippine Folk Literature: The Legends. Eugenio. 2002.

Mariang Ilaya Illustration by Laura Katigbak
FB: Rabbit Heart
IG: https://www.instagram.com/rabbitheartart/

The post Mariang Ilaya – Karay-a/ Kinaray-a Translation appeared first on Philippine Spirits.

*Note this story is in Tagalog

“Ang daya” sabi ni Sasha habang umiiyak sa kagubatan. Tumingin siya sa litrato kasama ang sinisinta niya. “Dating mahal pala” sagot ni Sasha sa sarili. Hindi siya makapaniwala sa mga nangyari, kung paano nadurog ang puso niya na humantong sa kaniyang pagkakamanhid at pagdududa.

Ikatlo na ng madaling araw iyon at nag-aalala na ang pamilya ni Sasha, pero hindi niya ito pinansin. Nahihirapan siya sa kaniyang nararamdaman at hindi niya alam ang gagawin dito. Lahat ba ng sinabi niya ay isang kasinungalingan lamang? Wala bang katotohanan sa kanilang pagsasama? Natatakot ba si Sasha harapin ang katotohanan na hindi siya minahal kailanman ng kaniyang kasintahan?

Ayaw niya nang isipin ang hirap. Gusto na lang ni Sasha humukay ng puntod at malibing ng buhay, dahil wala ng natitira para sa kaniya sa mundo. Mas pipiliin niya na lang na tapusin ang lahat ng sakit.

Hindi napansin ni Sasha na kumakapal ang hamog sa tabi niya. Sa sobrang kapal nito, marahil hindi niya na nakikita ang kagubatan sa paligid. Nagbabago ang anyo ng hamog habang siya ay umiiyak, hanggang sa naghugis babae ito at sinamahan siya sa kaniyang lungkot.

“Hindi siya karapat-dapat iyakan.” Napatingala si Sasha at nakita niya ang isang mahiwagang babaeng nagtataglay ng kagandahan. Mamamangha ang isang pangkaraniwang tao sa kababalaghang iyon pero hindi si Sasha at sumagot siya rito. “Lumayo ka nga sa akin. Hindi mo alam kung ano ang pinagsasabi mo.”
“Sa tingin ko mas marami akong alam kumpara sa iyo.” Nagparamdam ng kabaitan ang mahiwagang babae, nag-abot ito ng panyo at sinabi, “Heto, punasan mo ang iyong luha.”

“Paano mo naman nasabi” sagot ni Sasha habang kinukuha niya ang panyo ng babae. Hindi niya alam kung sino o ano ang kaniyang kaharap. Baka isa itong multo o guni-guni, pero hindi niya na ito inalintala. Dahil kung sakaling papatayin siya nito, papabayaan niya lang ang babae para matapos na ang kaniyang paghihirap. Wala na siyang pakialam dito.

“Napagdaanan ko kasi iyan” sagot ng babae habang nakatingin sa kaniya, kahit na nagmumukhang nakatingin ang babae sa kalooban ni Sasha. Nagpatuloy ang babae, “Minamahal ng aking sinisinta ang kapatid kong babae.”

“Sa akin naman yung matalik kong kaibigan” sabi ni Sasha. Hindi niya pa rin alam kung sino ang kaniyang kinakausap pero nararamdaman niyang mabait ito. “Gagaan naman ba ang pasanin ko?” Hindi na alam ni Sasha kung ano pa gusto niyang itanong, pero isa lang ang ninanais niya at iyon ay ang makipag-usap.
“Hindi” tuwid na isinagot ng babae at nalungkot ulit si Sasha . “Pero kailangan pa ring ipagpatuloy ang buhay” sabi ng babae.

“Paano ako magpapatuloy habang dala-dala itong sakit?” Tanong ni Sasha habang mahigpit ang kapit sa panyo.

“Dahil hindi pa ito ang katapusan.” Sagot ng babae at ngayon hinawakan niya ang mga kamay ni Sasha. Nakikita niya na busilak ang kalooban ng babae at nagpatuloy ulit ito, “Hindi pa tapos ang lahat dahil nagsisimula pa lang ang iyong kuwento at ikaw mismo ang magsusulat kung paano ito magwawakas.”

Pagktapos niya itong sabihin, biglang naglaho ang babae at mag-isa ulit si Sasha sa kagubatan.

=———=———————————=

English Version

“It’s not fair,” Sasha’s sobs echoed through the forest. She looked straight into the picture of her and her love. Ex-love, she corrected herself. She couldn’t believe what had happened, how her hear broke into a million little shards and how she didn’t think she could put them back together again.

It was 3am, she knew that her family would be worried about her, but she didn’t care. Her pain wasthe only real thing in her life now and she didn’t know how to deal with it. Was everything he said a lie? Was all the time they spent together a fantasy? Was she just afraid to face the truth that he was never in love with her?

She couldn’t, didn’t want to think about any of this. She just wanted to crawl into a hole and die. There wasn’t anything left for her. Not in this world anyway. She thought it would be best for everyone if she just ended it all.

Sasha didn’t notice the fog build up next to her. She probably didn’t even realize she was in the forest anymore. The dew and the mist were changing next to her, in between her tears. The softly formed into a woman’s form, all while she was seeking comfort in the pain she held close to her.

“He isn’t worth it you know.” Sasha looked up from her hands and she saw a beautiful woman, almost formed out of the mist of the forest. Most people would marvel at this supernatural wonder, but Sasha just held a hint of bitterness in her voice as she said, “Leave me alone. You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“I think I know more than you know.” The apparition brought out a piece of cloth, “Here, this should dry your tears.”

“How would you know?” Sasha took the cloth anyway. She didn’t know who—or what this was. Maybe a ghost, maybe a hallucination, but she didn’t care. Even if this thing came to kill her, it would be a welcome relief from what she was feeling. She couldn’t find the will to care anymore.

“I’ve been there,” the woman was now looking at her, though it seemed to Sasha that she was looking through her. “The love of my life fell in love with my sister.”

“Mine left me for my best friend.” Sasha didn’t know who this was, but now she sensed a kindred spirit. “Does it get any easier?” She didn’t know what to ask, but she knew that she wanted to keep talking.

“No.” The spirit was firm in her voice, Sasha felt a piece of her heart break again. “But you keep going anyway.”

“How can you when it hurts so much?” Sasha gripped the cloth in her hands and felt the tears start to come again.

“Because it’s never the end.” The woman held her hands this time and Sasha could see the sincerity in her eyes. “There’s always another ending, even if you have to write it yourself.”

With that, the woman vanished and Sasha was left alone again.

=————————————————–=

*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

Mariang Binokong Illustration by Nadine Cabe
Tumblr: http://nadinecabe.tumblr.com/

The post Mariang Binokong – Tagalog Translation appeared first on Philippine Spirits.

*Note story is in Southern Subanen [laa]

“AAAAAAIIIEEEEE!!”

Midliyâ su ṗater hu ḹibun sâ mirengeg en su ḹugung ritu ḹawas ƀalay. Gendâ hu mesunay masa piguleh en, manin gendî en na tau pulî ƀetar en. Su hetubû delayun manini, ḹong pa ni apu hu pimedlat-ṫaluan ita ṗun tu nga dusa mipegbetad ta.

“AAAAAAIIIEEEEE!!”

Gendâ hyanin pegbwat, ugaid su ḹugung ṗekheseg. Midungaw hu muhâ su dupi sumineheg dahag migusay pa memales, ƀwat ritu sampay mirepet na tu harwâ panghat. Ginangay hu ṫenggyay sâ dun i run pa gan misawad, ḹyagan hu mepeniguru na dun pa gan mesamâ sampay metubus i ƀadyû.

Gendâ hu mepihil-pihil su dyanghâ sâ ndâ rupi. Minangay ami tu Cebu genat su hagbatâ ṗun tu mipegbetad tu gina hu, pya ritu dupi pa regid. Delayun hu mepephemihil-mihil masa dun sa ƀadyû mephesempel sa endun su dyanami senlangan, muhâ melayam ha ri delayun ḹibuk. Dahag i guni nen mahaphesibâ ri hebatik mu.

“Ampun mu inan.”

Minayan si ina pegwit ḹansuk. Su ḳurinti mibeleng muhâ hyanin meperayun megbegay heshag. Segay pithenggyan en inan milurus di ḹwâ en bu pinumi-an en su dyanin nga ṫalû.

Pikhamû-amû hu hyanin na gendî na medlibuleng mahapantag ritu, selabuh ami senlangan muhâ megunut delayun, ugaid su ṫalû hu gendâ pemilangay. Dahag minalus du ƀwangan muhâ ritu na ƀadyû.

“AMPUN MU INAN! HENÂ PA BEN SAKTU PARA RYANI-A?! WAAY MU INAN MUHÂ SU SENLANGAN NAMI!”

Pinengaw hu hyanin muhâ pegbintang en hu hyan simpulî tu ƀalay. Dahag pithengyan hu i ḿulû en gendî hu milala i pidlenan di nga ṫhiddû nga ḹwâ en bu ri dupî.

“GENDÎ EN YANTA EWAAN!”

Su gayar en ṗekheseg muhâ lilegelan hyanin heppay. Pinuli-an en guhitay su guhiten tu dyanin ḳebetaay. Ḳetad hemeneh en tu Ɓentud Sinukuan muhâ middaw gahad ni Maria Sinukuan. Si ina su dyanghâ hitu ƀeresan en tu nguran hu ḹibun muhâ mipanaw di suggat helaû ƀenwa para mepegipat en su dyanin senlangan. Ugaid su ƀadyû minateng. Su ƀadyû delayun mateng.

Mikheneng si ina minayan i sehuras muhâ pigwiran en i ḳemet hu.

“Misunan mu alan i giddaw hu?”

Gendâ hu mesunay su pithibuhan tu guhituhitten tu alan i mipegbetad. Si ina gendî methalû, pya pa su hepatay ni ama. Gendâ hu mesunay ḳetad heset en sâ puli-an hu ṧahay ugaid su hesesa hu mibal en inan ḿesibâ. Ḹyagan hu mesunay alan hebalalagâ sâ lagan hu metubû dyalem di ḿesekheg ṧambel bu dupî. Ṫenggin hu si ina muhâ gishahan hu sâ alan mipegbetad.

“Selabuk-labuk ḿanggâ.”

——————————————————————————

English Version

“AAAAAAIIIEEEEE!!”

My sister screams as the thunder roars through the house. I don’t know why she keeps doing that, it’s not like it won’t happen again. Our lives have always been like this, lola says we are cursed and things have to be this way to atone for what happened.

“AAAAAAIIIEEEEE!!”

She doesn’t let up, but the thunder is getting louder. I look outside the window and the downpour is getting steadily worse, a few more hours and we may have to move to the second floor. I go and check on the food, making sure we have enough to last through the storm.

I don’t remember a time when it wasn’t raining. We moved to Cebu when I was born because of what happened with my mom, but it was raining even there. I always wondered why typhoons would follow our family around, but you get used to the constant rain. Eventually the sound becomes soothing.

“I’m sorry.”

My mother passes by with candles. The power’s out and she always has to keep a steady supply. She looks at me with tears in her eyes and repeats her words.

I tell her she has nothing to be sorry about, that we’re a family and we can go through this together, but my words fall on deaf ears. She runs out the door and into the storm. “I’M SORRY! ISN’T THAT ENOUGH FOR YOU?! LEAVE ME AND MY FAMILY ALONE!””

I go after her and drag her back to the house. When I look at her face I can’t tell the difference between the tears and the raindrops.

“SHE’LL NEVER LEAVE US ALONE!”

Her sobs get stronger and I hug her tight. She retells the story of her girlhood. How she went up Mt. Arayat and took something that belonged to Her, Mariang SInukuan. Mom was pregnant with my sister then and she moved as far away as possible to protect her family. But the storms came. The storms always came.

Mom calmed down after an hour and she held my hand.

“Do you know what I stole?”

I never learned the whole story of what happened. Mom would never speak of it, not even when dad died. I didn’t know what wounds this would bring up but curiosity took the better of me. I wanted to know what was so important that I had to live my life under a constant stream of wind and rain. I looked at mom and asked her what was taken.

“A mango.”

———————————————————————–

Othography and Language Notes:

Ṗ/ṗ – ph This is read by sounding p and h together.
Ḳ/ḳ – kh This is read by sounding k and h together.
Ṫ/ṫ – th This is read by sounding t and h together.
Ḹ/ḹ – dl This is read by sounding d and l together.
Ɓ/ƀ – gb This is read by sounding g and b together.
Ṧ/ṧ – sh This is read by sounding s and h together.
Ḿ/ḿ – ngmThis is read by sounding ng and m together.
â – glottal stop ‘a’ This is read by stopping the a sound midway, comparable to the last letter of the word: masamâ
î – glottal stop ‘i’ This is read by stopping the i sound midway, comparable to the last letter of the word: hindî
û – glottal stop ‘u’This is read by stopping the u sound midway.

There are 6 different sublanguages of Subanen (according to Ethnologue.com). The translation above is Southern Subanen and its corresponding ISO 639-3 code is laa.

In spoken Subanen, dy is pronounced as j. For example, dyanghâ is pronounced as janghâ.

All the letter e’s written in the translated material is schwa /e/. It is not meant to be pronounced as a regular e. However, Subanen does have a regular /e/ sound vowel, but due to it being less common it has a different symbol instead.

Written by Karl Gaverza

Copyright © Karl Gaverza 

Translation by Rongie Moli 

Translation Copyright © Rongie Moli and Fed Martinez

Orthography Fed Martinez

Story inspired by “Mariang Sinukuan” in Philippine Folk Literature: The Legends. Eugenio. 2002.

Mariang Sinukuan Illustration by Laura Katigbak

FB: Rabbit Heart

IG: https://www.instagram.com/rabbitheartart/

The post Mariang Sinukuan – Southern Subanen Translation appeared first on Philippine Spirits.

The post Mariang Binokong – Cebuano Translation appeared first on Philippine Spirits.

Anselmo felt his hands quiver as he planted the first seed. He knew what he was doing was against the wishes of the king of the mountain, and he was fearful of the price. Yet, there was so much to gain. Tobacco plants could stretch until the mountaintop if only the farmers had enough backbone to take the leap.

The earth was parted and the seed buried.

That night he dreamt of the king. They were in a forest facing each other. The king tapped the ground three times and small men sprang from the earth. The king said something Anselmo couldn’t hear and the small men ran towards the edges of the forest.

Anselmo and the king were left alone, but it seemed that the king couldn’t see the scared man. The king tapped the ground three more times and even more small men appeared. Alfonso was curious so this time he followed the small men to see what they were doing.

As he reached the end of the forest he gasped at the sight, rows of tobacco plants that extended towards the horizon. He had never seen so many tobacco plants. The small men were busy planting even more tobacco. Anselmo counted hundreds, no thousands of small men toiling in the fields.

He grabbed one of the small men and asked what they were doing. “Why this is for the king, of course,” said the small man, “the king needs his tobacco to smoke.” The small man then turned his back on Anselmo snickering at such a stupid question.

The dream ended there, with the small man and the tobacco plant. Anselmo’s heart was pounding, it was yesterday when he planted the first seed and he wondered what his punishment would be.

He agonized for days, wondering if he should take back the seed he planted. His mind raced for months about what his punishment would be.

Still, nothing happened. The sun still rose and the moon faded into the night. The roosters crowed at the same time every day and the tobacco plants grew around Kanlaon as they always have.

Soon, others noticed that Anselmo was planting above the line. Their eyes grew greedy with the promise of gold and they too took tobacco seeds and planted where Anselmo did.
And again, nothing happened. Kanlaon was filled to the brim with tobacco.

There were those that tried to warn the farmers. “Remember what the king said! If we plant here then he would carry all the tobacco away and smoke it all!”

Their cries fell on deaf ears. Money blinds even the most humble of men.

In the night there would be those that huddled around campfires and told the story of the king of the mountain. How he had absolute power over the earth, but sought to live alongside humans rather than rule over them.

They recounted how he had asked the people not to plant above a certain line that he had ordered his small men to draw around the mountain near the top. They told of the day when the king left. How the people shed tears at the kings pronouncement.

“I only ask that you will not plant above the line, if you do I will take all the tobacco away and no more shall grow along the mountainside until I have smoked it all.” The king tapped the ground and opened the earth, disappearing into the mountain.
The people kept their promise until Anselmo, of course.

Throughout all this he planted more tobacco. He remembered the dream, how he wished that his fields would look like the king’s, stretching until the horizon.

Years passed and the people forgot about the king of the mountain and their promise to him.

The mountain of Kanlaon was covered entirely by tobacco plants and the people grew rich and fat from their harvests.
Even the most humble of the people joined in the lavish fiestas that were held. It seemed like nothing could stop their celebrations of the people’s newfound wealth.

That is, until the earth opened and the king of the mountain returned.

Anselmo was the first to flee. He could feel the rumble in his bones and he knew the day of reckoning had come. He didn’t even look back as made a dash for the foot of the mountain.
It was a terrible sight to behold. Once filled with tobacco, Kanlaon was now bare. The farmers could not believe that their crops had disappeared so easily, but they had forgotten the true power of the king.

There was silence among the people, as if they knew what was about to happen. Suddenly the mountaintop exploded into the air, creating a crater filled with smoke and fire.

This was too much for even the bravest of them. The people fled in all directions, fearful of the king’s wrath.

That night Anselmo dreamed.

A thick cloud of smoke appeared before Anselmo. He coughed until he saw the king smoking tobacco. He went down on his knees and asked for forgiveness.

Again, the king did not notice his presence. He tapped the ground three times and small men appeared. The small men then brought more tobacco for the king to smoke.

Smoke filled the mountain, filling each crevice. It was an oppressive force. Anselmo felt his chest about to explode from inhaling so much smoke.

Then he awoke.

Years passed by and there were those that returned to the mountain. They set up their villages along the sides, but no one was brave or foolish enough to grow tobacco on the mountain.

No one knows what became of Anselmo, some say the king stole him away for special punishment. Others say that he moved far away, trying to escape the king’s wrath.

It does not matter, for the people know they are complicit in his crime. Nothing will be planted on Kanlaon for generations.

Not until the king is done smoking his tobacco.

Written by Karl Gaverza
Copyright © Karl Gaverza

Story adapted from THE TOBACCO OF HARISABOQUED http://www.sacred-texts.com/asia/pfs/pfs03.htm

Hari sa Bukid Illustration by Camille Chua
Instagram: @frillion
Facebook: Frillion‘

The post Hari sa Bukid appeared first on Philippine Spirits.

*Note this story is in Tagalog

AAAAAAIIIEEEEE!!”

Sumabay ang hiyaw ng kapatid ko sa dagundong ng kulog na sumaklob sa buong bahay. Hindi ko alam kung bakit palagi niyang ginagawa ‘yun, samantalang ‘di naman na ito ang unang beses na nangyari ang nangyari. Nakasanayan ko na din namang marinig ang kanyang mga sigaw. Sabi ng lola, isinumpa daw ang pamilya namin at sa paraang ito tintubos ang mga kasalanan ng angkan.

“AAAAAAIIIEEEEE!!”

Hindi siya nagpatinag sa lalong paglakas din ng mga kulog. Sumilip ako sa bintana at nakita kong lumalala din ang pagbuhos ng ulan, oras lang siguro ang bibilangin at kailangan na naming lumipat sa ikalawang palapag. Pumunta ako sa kusina at tinignan ang mga pagkain—may sapat pa naman kami hanggang sa matapos ang bagyo.

Wala akong matandaang panahon na hindi umuulan. Matapos akong ipanganak, lumipat daw kami sa Cebu dahil sa nangyari kay nanay, pero, umuulan din naman sa kung saan kami nanggaling. Matagal ko nang iniisip kung bakit parang laging sinusundan ng mga bagyo ang pamilya namin—kakatwa, pero nakasanayan ko na. Sa totoo lang, nakakapanatag nang marinig ang buhos ng ulan.

“Patawad.”

Sanay na si nanay na mga kandila lang ang ilaw sa bahay. Palaging pinapatay ang supply ng kuryente kaya marami kaming ganu’n. Nakatitig siya sa’king walang kurap habang lumuluha at paulit-ulit sa kanyang pakiusap.

Sinabi ko sa kanya na wala siyang dapat ihingi ng tawad, na iisa at buo ang aming pamilya upang sama-sama na lagpasan ang pagsubok na ito, ngunit parang wala siyang naririnig. Dali-dali siyang bumangon at tumakbo palabas ng bahay.

“PATAWARIN MO NA’KO, SABI! HINDI PA BA SAPAT ANG LAHAT NANG GINAWA MO SA’KIN? LUBAYAN MO NA AKO AT ANG PAMILYA KO!”

Hinabol ko siya at halos kinaladkad pabalik sa bahay. Nang tignan ko ang kanyang basang mukha, hindi ko mawari kung alin ang luha sa mga patak ng ulan.

“HINDI NIYA TAYO TATANTANAN!”

Niyakap ko siya at sumunod dito ang pagtindi ng kanyang mga hikbi. Isinalaysay niya ang ilang bahagi ng kanyang kabataan. Kung paanong isang araw ay umakyat daw siya sa bundok Sinukuan at nagnakaw ng isang bagay mula sa kanya, kay Mariang Sinukuan. Buntis siya nu’n sa aking kapatid nang magsimula kaming magpalipat-lipat ng tirahan, aniya, upang iligtas kami sa panganib. Ngunit sumunod naman sa amin ang mga bagyo. Sa’n man kami mapadpad, susunod at susunod ang pag-ulan.

Tumigil siya sa pag-iyak makaraan ang isang oras at hinawakan ang aking kamay.

“Alam mo ba kung anong ninakaw ko?”

Ni minsa’y ‘di ko pa narinig ang buong kuwento tungkol sa nangyari. Kailanma’y ‘di siya nagsalita nang anumang bagay na may kinalaman du’n, kahit nang mamatay si tatay. Wala akong ideya kung anong mga bagay ang maaaring maungkat kung sakaling buuin niya ang pagkukuwento, ngunit ayaw ko nang lumipas na naman ang isang araw nang hindi ko nalalaman. Kailangang mabatid ko kung bakit buong buhay ko ay umuulan sa labas at walang puknat ang ihip ng hangin at pagbayo ng mga bagyo. Tinitigan ko si inay at tinanong kung ano ang kanyang ninakaw.

“Isang mangga.”

————————–————————–————————–—

English Version

“AAAAAAIIIEEEEE!!”

My sister screams as the thunder roars through the house. I don’t know why she keeps doing that, it’s not like it won’t happen again. Our lives have always been like this, lola says we are cursed and things have to be this way to atone for what happened.

“AAAAAAIIIEEEEE!!”

She doesn’t let up, but the thunder is getting louder. I look outside the window and the downpour is getting steadily worse, a few more hours and we may have to move to the second floor. I go and check on the food, making sure we have enough to last through the storm.

I don’t remember a time when it wasn’t raining. We moved to Cebu when I was born because of what happened with my mom, but it was raining even there. I always wondered why typhoons would follow our family around, but you get used to the constant rain. Eventually the sound becomes soothing.

“I’m sorry.”

My mother passes by with candles. The power’s out and she always has to keep a steady supply. She looks at me with tears in her eyes and repeats her words.

I tell her she has nothing to be sorry about, that we’re a family and we can go through this together, but my words fall on deaf ears. She runs out the door and into the storm.

“I’M SORRY! ISN’T THAT ENOUGH FOR YOU?! LEAVE ME AND MY FAMILY ALONE!””

I go after her and drag her back to the house. When I look at her face I can’t tell the difference between the tears and the raindrops.

“SHE’LL NEVER LEAVE US ALONE!”sin

Her sobs get stronger and I hug her tight. She retells the story of her girlhood. How she went up Mt. Arayat and took something that belonged to Her, Mariang Sinukuan. Mom was pregnant with my sister then and she moved as far away as possible to protect her family. But the storms came. The storms always came.
Mom calmed down after an hour and she held my hand.

“Do you know what I stole?”

I never learned the whole story of what happened. Mom would never speak of it, not even when dad died. I didn’t know what wounds this would bring up but curiosity took the better of me. I wanted to know what was so important that I had to live my life under a constant stream of wind and rain. I looked at mom and asked her what was taken.

“A mango.”

————————–————————–————————-

*Mariang Sinukuan is also called Maria of Arayat

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

Story inspired by “Mariang Sinukuan” in Philippine Folk Literature: The Legends. Eugenio. 2002.

Mariang Sinukuan Illustration by Laura Katigbak
FB: Rabbit Heart
IG: https://www.instagram.com/rabbitheartart/

The post Mariang Sinukuan – Tagalog Translation appeared first on Philippine Spirits.

*Note this story is in Tagalog

“Gusto ko talagang akyatin ang bundok na ‘yon!”

“Hindi. Hindi dapat.”

“Hindi mo ‘ko kailangang tratuhin na para bang lagi akong bata!”

“Kailangan, lalo na kapag parang bata ka naman talaga umasta.”

“Walang matinding dahilan para hindi ako umakyat.”

“Nando’n siya. Sapat nang dahilan ‘yon para manatili ka dito.”

“Hindi ‘yan dahilan. Ni hindi nga totoo ang alinman sa mga kuwento tungkol sa kanya.”

“Hindi mahalaga kung ga’no katotoo ang mga usap-usapan. Nando’n siya at hindi natin siya gagambalain.”

“Pakinggan mo nga ang sarili mo! Natatakot ka sa isang tsismis!”

“Hindi lang siya isang tsismis at marami ka pang ‘di nalalaman.”

“Katulad ng?”

“Bakit siya tumigil?”

“Alam mo naman ang kuwento.”

“Bakit niya itinigil ang pamamahagi ng ginto sa mga mahihirap?”

“Talaga bang tinatanong mo sa’kin ‘yan?”

“Bakit?”

“Dahil naging sakim ang mga tao. Pinaghuhukay nila ang kanyang hardin upang nakawin ang mga tanim niyang luya na nagbabago-anyo at nagiging ginto.”

“Bakit siya tumigil?”

“Gaya nga nang sabi ko, lumabis ang pagnanais ng mga tao. Teka, ano bang kinalaman nito sa—“

“Bakit siya tumigil!”

“….”

“Dahil binigo natin siya. Binigo natin ang bundok. Higit pa sa simpleng kuwento ng kasakiman ang kuwento niya, dahil kailanman’y ‘di naging simple ang kasakiman. Sasairin nito ang pinakamahuhusay na bagay, hanggang sa wala nang matira ni isa. Ang kuwento niya ay paalala sa ating lahat na walang hinihinging kapalit ang bundok. Magbibigay ito nang magbibigay hanggang sa maghangad tayo ng higit pa sa dapat nating hangarin.”

“Gusto ko lang naman tumanaw mula sa tukok—“

“Tapos, ano? Kumuha ng mga litrato? I-post online para makita ng lahat?

“Oo, pero—“

“Pero, ano? Sandali lang na panahon at susunod ang mga tao sa’yo. Ga’no pa katagal hanggang sa sila na mismo ang umakyat sa tuktok, umapak sa lupa, wumasak sa mga damo, at kumuha ng mga mag bagay na hindi naman sa kanila?”

“….”

“Tinatrato kitang bata dahil ni minsa’y di mo naintindihan ang aral ng kanyang kuwento.”

“Na binigo natin siya?”

“Na binigo natin ang bundok.”

————————–————————–————————–—–

English Version

“I want to go up the mountain!”

“No, you really don’t.”

“You can’t keep treating me like a child!”

“I can if that’s how you’re acting.”

“You still haven’t given me a good reason why I shouldn’t go up.”

“She is up there. That is all the reason there needs to be.”

“That’s not a reason. Those stories aren’t even real.”

“It doesn’t matter how real the stories are. She is there and we will not disturb her.”

“Listen to yourself! You’re scared of a story.”

“There is more to the story than just Her.”

“And what is that?”

“Why did she stop?”

“You know the story.”

“Why did she stop giving gold to the poor?”

“I can’t believe you’re asking—“

“Why?”

“Because the people got greedy. They dug up her garden because a ginger root from her turned into gold.”

“Why did she stop?”

“Like I said, they got greedy, what does this have to do with—“

“Why did she stop!?”

“….”

“Because we failed her. Because we failed the mountain. There is more to Her story than simple human greed, because greed isn’t simple. It finds the most brilliant solutions to take until there’s nothing left. Her story reminds us that the mountain wants for nothing. It will give until we decide to take more than we can hold.”

“I just want to see the summit—“

“And what then? Take a few pictures? Post it online so that people can see?”

“Yes, but—“

“How long will it take until people decide to follow your lead and go up the mountain themselves? How long until their feet trample on the earth and the grass? Until they take what was never theirs?”

“…..”

“I treat you like a child because you haven’t learned her lesson.”

“That we failed her?”

“That we failed the mountain.”

————————–————————–————————–—

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

Inspired by Mariang Makiling in Philippine Folk Literature: The Legends. Eugenio. 2002.

Mariang Makiling Illustration by Laura Katigbak
FB: Rabbit Heart
IG: https://www.instagram.com/rabbitheartart/

The post Mariang Makiling – Tagalog Translation appeared first on Philippine Spirits.

The Legend of Sitti Maryam

Souls of the powerful can persist even after death and help those that are living. There is one such case of that in Fort Pilar, in Zamboanga where the soul of Sitti Maryam was claimed to have stopped a terrible storm.

Sitti Maryam is the Tausug name for Mama Mary. Sitti is a Tuasug title given to the daughters or sons of a royal datu while Maryam is the Arabic name of Mary found in the Qur’an.

This legend is told by Muhammad Absari Salahuddin, more popularly known as Mullung, a Tausug storyteller. In this depiction, some details are of Mullung’s own creation.

Long ago, Sitti Maryam was born the daughter of Nabi Imdan. When she grew older she requested her parents to teach her how to pray.

She studied all that she could and her father had examined her on all points of prayer and found her exceptional. She prayed five times a day and each time she was conscientious. This she did for sixty six years, all on her own.

God had watched the prayers of Sitti Maryam and told the angel Jibrail that she should be rewarded. He told the angel to give Sitti Maryam a jar full of water as her reward and to put it on the fontanel of her head.

The angel did as he was asked and put the water on her head without her noticing. The angel bade Sitti Maryam goodbye and left her to her prayers.

In the months following, Sitti Maryman found herself pregnant. Her father thinking that she had relations with a man ordered her to be cast out into the wilderness.

God would not abandon Sitti Maryam, she prayed for shelter and a big house appeared. She prayed for water and a big fountain sprang up.

On the tenth month of her pregnancy she delivered a child, after three days and three nights seventy seven female angels came down from heaven. God had sent them to help care for the child.

As time passed, her father ordered Sitti Maryam to return with her son, Nabi Isa. She prayed and asked God to take back all that was given to her, she had chosen to obey her father’s wish.

So Sitti Maryam lived with her father, protecting her child until he had grown into a young man.

When the time came for Sitti Maryam to face her judgment from God, she was brought to Zamboanga City. There people from the islands fulfill the promise they made when they needed help.

And that is the end of the story of Sitti Maryam.

————————–————————–————————–———-

Written by Karl Gaverza
Copyright © Karl Gaverza

Adapted from Sitti Maryam. Lady Mary. Narrated by Mullung.in Voices from Sulu A Collection of Tausug Oral Traditions. Rixhon. 2010.

Sitti Maryam Illustration by Alfonso Dolina
IG: https://www.instagram.com/alfokemon/

The post Sitti Maryam appeared first on Philippine Spirits.