*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/

*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/

“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.”

————————–————————–————————-

*Mariang Sinukuan is also called Maria of Arayat

Written by Karl Gaverza
Copyright © Karl Gaverza

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/