*Note this story is in Inabaknon

Aniya’ gihapon kahahalapun na si dimu’an .

Anurapsik i lunso’ si takulok-na si paragdaying. Agpulbaran na kunta’ pasurrob si buwahi’-kalawot piro kay ga’i papirdi i madlus. Pira ka yukot  maktak na si uran i manlurulagapak si day gana’  kurti na si kalawot, piro katu’anan iya nga aniya’  sito gihapon katatapuson na.  Ga’i iya agbawa na mayya ato para hamok alimbo’ sanglit mahaya pagtapod na si mga iya hasta si mga allaw nga anakka i katapusan-na.

Sa’intuman na i mga luha’-na si sa’i-na ngan agpabihing na i rosaryo-na. Atalaw to para si iya,  piro ammas nga atalaw to para si kaluluwa-na. Dadi’-nayto si sama-na mayto paragdaying nga durudiritso pa gihapon agtutu’o si mga dati pa pama’agi kay alsi kamatu’uran , aniya’  parti  na si kalawot nga sakob si laha’ -na, si pagka’allom na.

Agmakimalu’oy i sa’i-na nga antapod iya si paragsalbar-na, i paragsalbar na mga iya. I mag’ataman si iya si  pudir-na nga para anghaya si gugma’ ngan si kadanta’an, piro ni adda ga’i  to mamati’ si iya. Ga’i  sakatu’anan  na kon ay klasiha kinabuhi’ i aniya’  mayya si kalawot, ngan i mga paragbantay nga pirmi magparasagdon si mga iya.

“Asuwang na si kalawot” — iyayto i ban’o na si mga iya. Lingon-na mga iya, para pang’aguy-agoy to mga espiritu si mga mangngalawot pina’agi si kanta-na mga iya para alimbo to paragdaying to ngan diritso to mayya kakan na. Nginarat pa gihapon iya si ka’awat na na siray mga surusurumaton ngan kon pira pa gihapon katabbol i manutu’o sito. Katu’anan  i paragdaying siray mga uru’istorya: adda bagay nga naggamit para pankorti si pag’agi na si mga panahon para kabuwanan pagrispitar ngan  paghanga i mga espiritu.

Piro kay gana’ may siray sa himo’-na. Agbag’o na na  si panahon kon ay i magpantakka si mga iya si mga uras si pagkinahanglanun na mayya. Gana’ na sapapumwan-na pa si kalawot, ngan mga pangadyi si mga lunso’. Iya na hamok i mabilin. I pinakadamuri dadi’  lalla si tikaparong pagtu’o.

Agtikawara’ na ina’anto i kusog na si mga sugbong-na si paragdaying. I puho’-na pa’abuyon na si gana’  kahuhuwayon na paglagapak  si kalawot ngan uran. Ag’intom na gihapon i sa’i-na ngan ma’isog pa gihapon agtungghunan na i pagtu’o na. Angbusngal dawlo i mga bihi-na pangadyi bago iya pa’utok  si kalunsu’an:

Bawa-na ako si kalawot si ruma’ -ko

Agtapod ako si ka’aw

O kaluluwa-na si bagyo ngan kalawot

I kalu’uman salli’an na si kadanta’an

Dinaluman to gihapon mga lunso’

Huwang ko i kalawot

Aniya’ gihapon kahahalapun na si dimu’an.

=——————=

English Version

Everything will be alright.

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

Everything will be all right.

=————————-=

*The Inabaknon language, also known as Abaknon, Abaknon Sama, Capuleño, Kapul, or Capul Sinama, is an Austronesian language primarily spoken in the Island Municipality of Capul of Northern Samar, in the Eastern Visayas Region of the Philippines. Unlike the other indigenous languages of the Eastern Visayas, namely Waray, Cebuano and Boholano, Inabaknon is not classified as part of the Visayan language family, but is rather grouped with the Sama–Bajaw languages.

Written by Karl Gaverza
Inabaknon Translation by Jo-An Panis Magloyuan
Copyright © Karl Gaverza
Translation Copyright © Jo-An Panis Magloyuan

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 Ibanag

Mapia Noka Ngamin

Nakanna na palung y ulo na minangngallu. Nikarigatan na y mattanniao ta danum ngem kitanna magimmang na masikan nga badiu. Ammu na nga makadde ira maski masikan y danna na uran. Kitadda netuttol yaya tawe tapenu malimo anna mattalo yaya nira adde noka ta adde.
Naraddam na y luwa nga nallawan ta mata na yena na sanga newakki na y Rosario. Navurungan y yena na mas netallugaring ta kararua na. Y minangngallu ay paborito na yama anna inakkakka na y ollu nga pangurugan megafu ta pangurug na nga y bebay dian na daga na.

Nakimallo y yena na tu mangurug ta mangipaliag sa, mangipaliag nira. Pinadakal na yaya tu daddamman na y aya anna nawag, ngem kitanna gininna y yena na. Kitanna noka malippawa y pattolay da ngoga ta bebay, danari nanangngal nira.

“Aswang ng dagat”- yaton I agal nira. Kadiad da tu y cancion na espiritu y neyappan da ta minangngallu tape nu malaggappan anna kanadda ira. Nakaddag yaya nu kunnasi nabbayag yaton nga kinaladdug anna nu ngatta mangurug paga laman y aru nga totolay aganne sangawe. Ammu na minangngallu danari nga istoria nu para anni ira: yaton nga gannug nga nepinta aganne ngoga y respeto anna paddayarayaw ta espiritu ira.

Awan tu inna nakua. Ragu-ragun nga nappasa y nanguli ta angngurugan na totolay nu sinni aranniad da nga paki offunan. Awan ngana tu mangitavvung ta bebay onu makimallo ta palung. Yaya laman ngana. Yaya y ultimo ta mawawawan nga angngurugan.

Makkafi-kafi y lima-lima na. Massuku galaman ngana y baggi na ta awan tu immang na sikan na palung anna uran. Niraddam na y yena na anna pinasikan na y nono na. Nevuya na y ultimo nga pakimallo nage na nadanna ta danum:

Y danum ituttol na ta balê
Mammakatalo nga niko
O espiritu na badiu anna danum
Y zibbo mabbalin tu nawag
I palung makkalma
Egga nga noka ta bebay
Mapia noka ngamin.

=—————————————————-=

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

————————–————————–————————–—

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

Written by Karl Gaverza
Translation by Gretheline Ramos Bolandrina
Copyright © Karl Gaverza
Translation Copyright © Gretheline Ramos Bolandrina

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 Cebuano

“Ila kong iluwas.”

Ang mga balod gabangga ug gapaibabaw sa ulo sa mananagat. Gapaningkamot siya nga makalutaw pa apan ang unos dili magpapildi. Libo hangtud milyon nga tagaktak sa ulan ang gahulma sa dili maila nga hulagway sa dagat, apan kahibalo siya nga kana tanan mulabay ra.

Nakahinumdom siya sa mga luha sa iyahang inahan adtong panahon nga iyaha rang gipadaplin ang rosaryohan. Ang iyahang inahan nahadlok para sa iya apan mas naguol para sa iyahang kalag. Ang mananagat kay anak gayod sa iyahang amahan ug padayon nga gatuo sa mga kinaraang pamaagi kay ang tubig naa sa iyahang dugo.

Nagpakilooy iyahang inahan na unta musalig siya sa iyahang mangluluwas, ilahang mangluluwas. Katong pirmi ipahinumdom sa iyaha sa ngan sa gugma ug kahayag, apan wala niya gipaminaw ang sulti sa iyahang inahan. Dili masabtan sa iyahang inahan ang ilang kinabuhi sa dagat, ang mga gabantay sa ilahang tanan.

“Aswang sa Dagat” – mao na ang tawag sa ilaha. Matud nila, ang mga espiritu gapanglumay, pinaagi sa ilahang duyog, ug mga mananagat paingon sa tubig para ilumos ug kaonon. Gakakurat gihapon siya nga sa unsa na kadugay ana nga tuo-tuo kay daghan pa gihapon gatuo. Kabalo ang mga mananagat sa kamatuoran bahin ana, pakita ug respeto ug paglantaw sa mga espiritu.

Pero wala na siyay mabuhat. Ang mga nilabay nga tuig nakapabag-o sa kung asa gasalig ang mga tawo sa panahon sa kalisud. Wala nay nabilin nga halad para sa dagat ug mga ampo para sa mga balod. Siya na lang usa nabilin. Ang katapusang anak sa usa ka himatyon nga tinuohan.

Nawad-an na ug kusog ang mga bukton sa mananagat. Dili na makaya sa iyahang lawas ang murag walay katapusan nga pagdasdas sa mga balod ug ulan. Nahuna-hunaan niya iyahang inahan ug padayon nga nagtuo sa iyahang tinuohan. Ang iyahang ngabil nagsulti ug katapusang pag-ampo ayha siya napaingon sa ilalom sa mga balod.

Ang tubig magtultol nako pauli

Musalig ko kanimo

O, mga espiritu sa unos ug dagat

Ang kangitngit mahimong kahayag

Ang mga balod malinaw

Ako muuban sa dagat

English Version

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

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

Written by Karl Gaverza
Cebuano Translation by Colleen Salcedo
Copyright © Karl Gaverza
Translation Copyright © Colleen Salcedo

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 Tagalog

“Ililigtas nila ako.”

Tumama ang mga alon sa ibabaw ng ulo ng mangingisda. Sinubukan niyang lumangoy sa tubig ngunit hindi ito pinatawad ng bagyo. Inulan nang napakalakas sa walang hugis na karagatan, ngunit alam niya na lilisan rin ito. Hindi nila pinabayaan siya dito para malunod, at kailangan niya lang magtiwala hanggang sa dulo.

Naaalala niya ang mga luha sa mata ng kanyang ina nang itapon niya ang kanyang rosaryo. Natatakot ang ina para sa kanya, pero mas natatakot ito para sa kanyang kaluluwa. Ang mangingisda ay ang anak ng kanyang ama at dala-dala nito ang paniniwala sa mga lumang gawi dahil dumadaloy sa dugo niya ang tubig ng karagatan.

Nagmakaawa ang ina sa kanya na magtiwala nalang sa kanyang manliligtas, sa manliligtas nila. Yaong siyang kinalakihan niya sa pagmamahal at liwanag, ngunit hindi niya pinakinggan ang ina. Hinding hindi maintindihan ng ina ang buhay nila sa dagat, ang mga sarili nilang tagapagligtas.

“Aswang ng dagat” – iyan ang tawag sa kanila. Sabi nila na inaakit ng mga nilalang na ito ang mga mangingisda sa tubig sa pamamagitan ng kanilang mga kanta para lunurin at kainin sila. Ikinagugulat niya pa rin na naniniwala pa rin ang mga tao sa kasabihang iyon. Alam ng mga mangingisda ang mga kwentong iyon ay tila isang pagkubli sa dami ng taong nagdaan dulot ng respeto at hanga sa mga nilalang.

Ngunit wala na siyang magagawa dito. Dumaan ang mga taon at nagbago ang mga pangangailan ng tao. Wala nang pag-alay sa dagat, o kahit anumang dasal sa mga alon. Ang natira na lamang ay siya. Ang huling anak ng isang nakalimutang paniniwala.

Nanghihina na ang braso ng mangingisda. Bumibigay na ang kanyang katawan sa walang tigil na galit ng alon at ulan. Inalala niya ang kanyang ina, at nanindigan sa kanyang paniniwala. Isang huling dasal ang binulong ng mga labi bago siya lamunin ng mga alon:

Ang tubig ay ang daan pauwi
Maniniwala ako sa’yo
O mga nilalang ng bagyo at dagat
Ang karimlan ay magiging liwanag
Kakalma ang alon
Makakasama ko na ang dagat

————————–————————–———————-

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

————————–————————–————–

*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
Tagalog Translation by Miguel Carlos Lazarte
Copyright © Karl Gaverza
Translation Copyright © Miguel Carlos Lazarte

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 Cuyonon 

Ingsasampok i’ ang daloyon ang olo ‘ang manigpangisda. Agakapaykapay tana apang indi enged agpadaeg ang bagio kanana. Rinibo-ribo ang orang agararamatak sa kadagatan nga ara’ korti ni anio, apang naelaman nang magapoas da dia. Tana ara nanda idaran digi agod malemes lamang ig magasarig tana kananda tegka sa teregkan anang kaboi.

Nademdeman na ang loa sa mata ‘ang anang ina datong pilakan na ang rosario. Ingaadlekan manda ang anang ina para kanana apang mas mi labet tana sa kalag i’ anang bata. Ang manigpangisda bata i’ anang ama ig agapadayon pa ra sa pagparet sa mga laging kinaogalian ay ang tobig dian sa anang dogo.

Agpakiloy anang ina nga magsarig sa anang manonobos, andang manonobos. Ingpakolay tana anang ina nga demdemen ang manonobos nga dato sa gegma ig sanag, apang ara tana ipamati kanana. Indi enged mamaramadan anang ina ang kaboi sa laod, ang mga manigbantay nga agprotiktar kananda.

“Mangalok ‘ang Dagat” –dato maman andang tawag kananda. Ingkakatikati kono i’ ang mga diwata ang mga manigpangisda paagi sa andang mga kansion. Malemes ngani ang mga manigpangisda sanda kono kakaenen den. Nabebereng tana kong ayamo boi pa ra ang botig nga dato ig ingpaparetan pa ra ‘ang matamang tao. Naelaman i’ ang mga manigpangisda nga ang mga istoriang dato mara sa trapo nga agaponas sa dinagon dong paggalang ig pagdayaw sa mga diwata.

Ara tana ra maboboat. Ingoman den i’ ang mga dagon kong kino magadarangep ang mga tao sa oras andang kaministiran. Ara reng mga alad sa dagat ig mga pangadi sa mga daloyon. Tana ren lamang ang nasala. Ang kaoriang bata i’ ang tagomatayen deng tinooan.

Ingroroyan den ang betken i’ ang manigpangisda. Magaampo ron ang anang lawas sa ara’ tadeng nga pagtampek i’ ang daloyong ig oran. Ingisip na anang ina ig agpanindegan tana sa anang pagtoo. Aganiani ang anang mga bibig i’ oring pangadi bago agtagbeng anang olo sa daloyong:

Ang tobig ang akeng gabayan paoli
Magasarig ako kanindo
O mga diwata i’ ang dagat ig bagio
Ang delem mamaimong sanag
Ang mga daloyong magalinaw
Magaimbeng ako sa dagat
ig magaayad ang tanan-tanan.

English Back Translation

The waves crush over the fisherman’s head. He flayed his hands but the storm will not let up. Thousands upon thousands of rain poured onto the shapeless ocean, but he know that this too shall pass. They did not bring him here to drown and he will trust them until the end of his life.

He remembers the tears in his mother’s eyes when he tossed her rosary. His mother was indeed scared for him, but she’s more concerned for her son’s 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 saviour, their saviour. She had raised him to remember that saviour in love and light, but he couldn’t listen to her. His mother could never understand the life at sea, the guardians that protected them.

“Mangalok ‘ang Dagat” –that’s what they called them. They say that the spirits lured fishermen into the water with their songs. Once the fishermen were drowned they will then 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 are like rags that wiped the centuries of respect and admiration of the spirits.

There was nothing he could do though. The years had changed who people turned to in their times of need. There were no more offerings by the sea, or prayers to the waves. He was the only one left. 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 whisper one final prayer before his head goes beneath the waves:

The water is my life-saver as I go home.
I will trust in you
Oh spirits of sea and storm
The darkness will turn into light
The waves will calm
I will be with the sea
and everything will be alright.

————————–————————–———————

*Cuyonon is a regional Visayan language spoken on the coast of Palawan, and the Cuyo Islands in the Philippines.

Written by Karl Gaverza
Cuyonon Translation provided by Ryan D. Ibañez and Elyn Grace Bagalay
Copyright © Karl Gaverza
Translation Copyright © Ryan D. Ibañez and Elyn Grace Bagalay

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/

It all happened as fast as a drop of rain.

The sea was painted with blood. Violent streaks decorated the canvas that was supposed to be a quiet evening. Moonlight gave witness to a scene more familiar at a slaughterhouse.

In all this tumult Mhik could only focus on the warm tears rolling down her cheeks. She chided herself, “You’re a big girl now, don’t cry. Kuya will make fun of you and mama and papa won’t take you seriously.”

She couldn’t see her family anymore; she had been holding her kuya’s hand when it started. She wished upon all the stars she could see that he was okay, that this nightmare would soon be over.

The creatures must have heard her prayer. They circled around her like a wake of bloodthirsty vultures waiting for an easy meal.

Mhik could see them clearly now, iridescent scales shining in the moonlight. She thought back to all the times papa told her that monsters weren’t real, that fear only holds you back.
More tears were welling in her eyes now. She didn’t know what to do. There was so much red all around her. She called for her kuya, for her mama and papa. She screamed until her throat burned. She just wanted to be with her family.

The monsters were swimming closer now. Mhik wished she could cover her nose. Their stench was overpowering. The creatures glided towards her, picking up speed. She closed her eyes and waited for the inevitable.

The creature screamed out in pain as a spear impaled its head, blood and ichor spurting out of its wound. The other creatures scattered and Mhik was left alone, or so she thought.

“Nasty beasts.” Mhik heard a woman’s voice cut through the darkness. She spun around and faced the origin of the voice.

“Swim with me. I may have scared them off for now, but they’ll be back. Their kind never likes to leave witnesses.” The woman was fast, in a matter of moments she had swam a few meters ahead of Mhik. The lithe girl tried to catch up to her, but she was never the strongest swimmer.

The woman seemed to have sensed Mhik’s trouble and swam alongside her.

“Don’t worry we’re almost there.” Her voice tried to sound reassuring, but there was a hint of steel from the battle.

The moonlight revealed a small boat that Mhik hadn’t noticed. The woman boosted her up and Mhik could feel the chill of the night creep into her bones.

The woman took out a blanket and gave it to the small girl. She thanked the woman though she was shivering.

“Where’s my family?” Mhik asked through the cold and the tears.

The woman avoided looking into Mhik’s eyes. She gave no reply.

“Please! Tell me!”

Again she was met with silence.

“Please. My name is Mhik. I came here with my kuya and my parents. I don’t know where they are. You must have seen what happened to them.”

“…”

“My kuya’s big, he looks just like my dad. My mom looks a little like me but older. She has a mole on the side of her face. Please ma’am, tell me what happened to them!”

The woman met Mhik’s gaze and didn’t speak. As young as Mhik was she could tell there was a lifetime of sadness behind the woman’s eyes.

“I’m sorry.”

Mhik’s heart sank. She thought back to all the red that was around her.

Her screams broke the stillness of the water as she called out her family’s names.

The sun was unforgiving, but so was she.

She tracked the creatures to a cave near Binurong Point. There were many tourists in the area and it would be a prime feeding ground for the creatures.

She held her rosary tight and said her prayers. It was her ritual right before every hunt.

“May You protect me from the monsters of the sea. Heavenly Father, hear my prayer.” The words were carried on the wind as she prepared her weapons.

The creatures usually hunted at night, but there were exceptions especially when they were around a target rich environment.

Memories flooded her mind and she tried her best to hold back the tears.

It had been years since she made the pledge to hunt these abominations off the face of the earth, to make sure no one else suffered as she had.

“This is for you kuya.”

She readies her spears and swims into the cave.

“Do you ever miss them?”

“Who?”

“Your family.”

“Every day.”

“Why do you do this?”

“So that no one ever has to feel the way I felt.”

“Is it worth it?”

“Sometimes.”

There were only three in the cave, the others must have escaped in the commotion.

She curses herself, “I needed to be faster.” She rips a piece of her blood-soaked shirt and fashions it into a bandage.

The battle was short by her standards. She expected more of a fight. She takes a piece of her blooad-soaked shirt and fashions it into a bandage.

“Too slow, too many of them got away.”

She thinks of their next victims, of the children left behind without parents.

“I need to be faster.” She says to no one in particular.

She grasps her rosary tight and asks her god for forgiveness. She knows someone else will pay for her failure.

“I will fight until my dying breath, dear Lord.” The rosary digs into her skin and she ignores the pain.

“Please bless my spears so they will find their marks. I will purge the world of their evil if you will it.”

The sun is setting now. She looks at the bodies of the creatures and savors the familiar scent of blood and saltwater.

“Forgive me, Lord.”

She takes her weapons and begins her hunt anew.

Written by Karl Gaverza
Copyright © Karl Gaverza

Story inspired by the Magindara description in Bikol Beliefs and Folkways: A Showcase of Tradition. Nasayao 2010.

Magindara Illustration by Jojo Cunanan
Deviantart: https://yamitoki.deviantart.com/
Behance: https://www.behance.net/yami_to_ki937b

“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

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Written by Karl Gaverza
Copyright © Karl Gaverza

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/