*Note this story is in Waray

Kun diin kit tinuok

Didi liwat kit magtitikang

An Muya

An Bayi-Bayi

An kanya ngaran, Amburukay

An kanya tinago nga kadaragan-an

Gintatago niya sa tor-re

An Muya

An Bayi-bayi

Kun sin-o man an makakuha sa kanya tuos

Sa kanya bulawan nga dutdot

Aasawahon niya

Taghoy, an duwende

An Espiritu nga taga tugway

Ni Labaw Donggon

Ginsugaran siya nga upayon

An kanya wakay nga bidya

An tuos la

San Muya

San Bayi-bayi

Kanya ginkuha

Di siya maaram sa tuos

San Muwa

San Bayi-bayi

Dapat niya asawahon

Amburukay

An adlaw sa kasal

Sa kanya balay

Sa balay san lalaki

Gindara ngadto sa Muwa

Ngadto sa Bayi-bayi

Grabe nga haya ni Labaw Donggon

Dire an Muwa

Dire an Bayi-bayi

Dire ko siya kaya nga pakaslan

Amburukay

Wara siya didto

Kanya la binukot

Kanya la mga tinago nga mga kadaragan-an

Kanya mga anak nga babaye

Naglipay si Labaw Donggon

Kun diin kit tanan tinuok

Didi lat kit mahuhuman

=—————————————————————=

English Version

Where we all pause
Here shall we begin

The Muwa
The Bayi-bayi
Her name, Amburukay
She hides her kept maidens
Hides them in her tower

The Muwa
The Bayi-bayi
Whoever gets her tuos*
Her golden pubic hair
Will marry her

Taghoy, the duwende
The spirit guide
Of Labaw Donggon
Tells him to fix
His broken bidya

With only the tuos
Of the Muwa
Of the Bayi-bayi
He takes it

He knows not of the tuos
Of the Muwa
Of the Bayi-bayi
He must marry
Amburukay

The wedding day
His house
The house of the groom
Is brought to the Muwa
To the Bayi-bayi

Labaw Donggon cries in despair
Not the Muwa
Not the Bayi-bayi
I cannot marry her

Amburukay
Is not there
It is her binukot
Her kept maidens
Her adopted daughters
Labaw Donggon rejoices

Where we all pause
Here shall we end

=———————————————————=

*A tuos is a sacred vow or pledge. (This is in reference to the story wherein anyone that gets Amburukay’s golden pubic hair must marry her, as was the sacred magical binding contract of her parents)

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

Written by Karl Gaverza (In the style of a Sugidanon [Epic] of Panay)
Waray translation by Jmee Juanerio
Copyright © Karl Gaverza
Translation Copyright © Jmee Juanerio

Story adapted from Amburukay: Sugidanon (Epics) of Panay. Caballero & Caballero-Castor translation by Magos. 2015.

Amburukay Illustration by Patmai De Vera
FB : Art of Patmai
TUMBLR : http://blog.patmai.net/
IG: https://www.instagram.com/_patmai_/

Every night the bakunawas come.

It started a month ago. Our village was no stranger to the moon serpents, and we readied our gongs and our chants to safeguard the lunar light against the beasts. We rejoiced then, not knowing the hardship we would face. I think back to those happy times and weep.

We were not ready for this.

First, they came alone. The night after the first serpent came, another took its place. It was not unknown to our people that there would be multiple bakunawas in a month following each other. Their kind thought of the moon as a plaything, greedily swallowing it up when they could.

Our people knew of two kinds of moon serpent, differentiated by their bellies. One with a transparent stomach that, when it swallowed the moon, would cause a partial eclipse, and another with a thick-walled stomach that would cause the sky to darken completely.

After the first week we were exhausted. We forced ourselves to push through the pain, and there were even times when the serpents would slip past and gorge on the moon. We chanted twice as hard until we spat blood.

But they did not stop.

We consulted the spirit-talkers among us for answers. They sat beneath their Balete trees and communed with the spirits of sea and sky.

I still remember that night. The spirit talkers cried tears of blood and spoke in a voice of darkness. They told us that this was only the beginning. The bakunawas would come, until the world was completely drenched in midnight.

And there was nothing we could do about it.

I didn’t want to believe the spirit talkers. Maybe something was wrong with their visions. I know that something had to be done to rid our village, and the world of the moon serpents, at least long enough that our village could rest.

But I don’t know what to think now that it has been a month. Our village is tired and we pray to the sun that it would rid us of these loathsome beasts, yet no reprieve comes.
‘The serpents will come as harbingers of the dark. They will take everything from us and lead us into the end,’ the possessed spirit talker’s words echo in my head.

I will not take this lying down. There must be something I can do to stop the moon serpents. I gather my things, my kris, my lucky amulet and some provisions.

As children, we were warned not to stray in too far into the bamboo forest, for there are beings there that are not what they seem. Among these are the muwa, old men and women in one of their forms, and large, hairy creatures once they set aside their illusions.

The answer must lie with them, for if the spirits will not help us, maybe the monsters will.

The wind whistles through the bamboo forest and I am still.
Here is where I find them, the monsters that hold the answers. The spirit talkers in my village cannot help, they are blinded by the serpent’s power and their spirit guides do not reply.

Something must be done.

I hear rustling from a nearby bush and I jump to investigate.
I come face to face with an old woman. She graciously bows to me, but I do not respond. I know what she is.

“Get up, I have no time for your tricks,” I say. The old woman laughs, a loud, guttural sound that sends jolts down my spine. But there is no time for fear. It is almost sundown and the bakunawas will come again. I have to do this, for my people.
“Here he is. Who is that fearless one? Who is so brave that he seeks out the people of the forest?” The old woman’s illusion disappears. She is now a creature of the forest, covered in hair and magic.

“I am Adlaw, and I seek you for answers.”

Again, the muwa laughs, echoing through the bamboo. I notice that more of their kind is watching us.

“The child of the sun. Many have heard about him. He takes his weapons. Charges into the forest. And for what? A quick death maybe?”

“I am not here to fight,” I say as I lay down my kris. “I need to know about the bakunawas.”

“The serpents they come. To play with the moon. The lunar orb. They come all nights. And do not tire.”

“Yes, they seek the moon. Every night my village ring the gongs and shout to make the serpents spit out the sun. But we grow weary. Soon we will not be able to hold them off, and the night will be plunged into darkness.”

“The hubris of humans. Thinking that the duty belongs solely to them. We muwa. We bayi-bayi. Know of the moon serpents. And we do not want to see the nights lose their light.”

“Will you help me then? Please tell me what I should do,” I say falling to my knees. My heart skips a beat, rejoicing that I may have finally found the answer.

“It will come at a cost. There is payment to be done,” the muwa approaches me and looks into my eyes. Her hairy face and monstrous visage make me take a step back.

“I will pay whatever price you require,” I say.

“It is not to us that you will pay,” the muwa says. Her face contorts into a macabre grin. “It is to the serpents.”

“What do you mean?” I ask.

“To stop them from taking the brightness of night. You must go to the cliffs. The serpents will see you. And they will make a choice.”

“What choice?”

“They will decide if your sacrifice is suitable. If it is acceptable to the serpents. They will stop playing with the orb. If you give them your life.”

Her words strike me deep the moment I realize what she is asking of me. I ask her if there is another way and she replies with a blunt “You must choose between yourself and your village, and all other villages.

The muwa picks up my kris and hands it to me.

“Go, child of the sun. Son of the human tribes. It is up to you to stop the serpents. To stop the endless night.”

I take the kris and exhale.

I know what I must do.

I am here at the cliffside, waiting for the sun to set.

On any other day I would have just sat here and enjoyed the view, the pink-orange haze across the horizon is beautiful.
But this was not that day.

The sun sinks below the sea and I prepare myself. The serpents will be here soon.

I think of happier times. I think of my friends. I think of futures I wish I had and pasts I no longer regret.

The village has come with the gongs and I can hear them prepare in the distance.

I chose to do this alone, not telling any soul. I did not want to be a martyr. It is not for my name that I do this. It is for every child that will grow to be a warrior. It is for every family that will now stay together. It is for my mother, that she will live a full life.

It is for them that I do this.

In my final minutes I shout to the skies and goad the serpents towards me.

They fly to me and I smile.

My sacrifice was enough.

In the bamboo forest, a laugh is heard echoing through the branches.

An old woman looks to the sky and basks in the moonlinght. She says to herself, “The child of the sun. Too foolish for his own good. Heeding words he does not know are true. His sacrifice will be remembered. Not by those he saved. But by those he believed.”

*In Kinaray-a folklore there are two kinds of bakunawas, one that has a transparent belly, blamed for partial lunar eclipses and one with an opaque belly, blamed for total lunar eclipses

Written by Karl Gaverza
Copyright © Karl Gaverza

Inspired by the bakunawa description in The Soul Book. Demetrio & Cordero-Fernando 1991.

Bakunawa (Kinaray-a) Illustration by Julius Arboleda
Online Portfolio: https://juliusarbo.weebly.com/

Inspired by the Muwa legends from Panay

Muwa Illustration by Billy Joe Pana Fragata
Instagram: @kuy_beige

Pt 2 of Appeasing the Moon Serpents

The wind whistles through the bamboo forest and I am still.

Here is where I find them, the monsters that hold the answers. The spirit talkers in my village cannot help, they are blinded by the serpent’s power and their spirit guides do not reply.

Something must be done.

I hear rustling from a nearby bush and I jump to investigate.
I come face to face with an old woman. She graciously bows to me, but I do not respond. I know what she is.

“Get up, I have no time for your tricks,” I say. The old woman laughs, a loud, guttural sound that sends jolts down my spine. But there is no time for fear. It is almost sundown and the bakunawas will come again. I have to do this, for my people.
“Here he is. Who is that fearless one? Who is so brave that he seeks out the people of the forest?” The old woman’s illusion disappears. She is now a creature of the forest, covered in hair and magic.

“I am Adlaw, and I seek you for answers.”

Again, the muwa laughs, echoing through the bamboo. I notice that more of their kind is watching us.

“The child of the sun. Many have heard about him. He takes his weapons. Charges into the forest. And for what? A quick death maybe?”

“I am not here to fight,” I say as I lay down my kris. “I need to know about the bakunawas.”

“The serpents they come. To play with the moon. The lunar orb. They come all nights. And do not tire.”

“Yes, they seek the moon. Every night my village ring the gongs and shout to make the serpents spit out the sun. But we grow weary. Soon we will not be able to hold them off, and the night will be plunged into darkness.”

“The hubris of humans. Thinking that the duty belongs solely to them. We muwa. We bayi-bayi. Know of the moon serpents. And we do not want to see the nights lose their light.”

“Will you help me then? Please tell me what I should do,” I say falling to my knees. My heart skips a beat, rejoicing that I may have finally found the answer.

“It will come at a cost. There is payment to be done,” the muwa approaches me and looks into my eyes. Her hairy face and monstrous visage make me take a step back.

“I will pay whatever price you require,” I say.

“It is not to us that you will pay,” the muwa says. Her face contorts into a macabre grin. “It is to the serpents.”

“What do you mean?” I ask.

“To stop them from taking the brightness of night. You must go to the cliffs. The serpents will see you. And they will make a choice.”

“What choice?”

“They will decide if your sacrifice is suitable. If it is acceptable to the serpents. They will stop playing with the orb. If you give them your life.”

Her words strike me deep the moment I realize what she is asking of me. I ask her if there is another way and she replies with a blunt “You must choose between yourself and your village, and all other villages.

The muwa picks up my kris and hands it to me.

“Go, child of the sun. Son of the human tribes. It is up to you to stop the serpents. To stop the endless night.”

I take the kris and exhale.

I know what I must do.

I am here at the cliffside, waiting for the sun to set.

On any other day I would have just sat here and enjoyed the view, the pink-orange haze across the horizon is beautiful.
But this was not that day.

The sun sinks below the sea and I prepare myself. The serpents will be here soon.

I think of happier times. I think of my friends. I think of futures I wish I had and pasts I no longer regret.

The village has come with the gongs and I can hear them prepare in the distance.

I chose to do this alone, not telling any soul. I did not want to be a martyr. It is not for my name that I do this. It is for every child that will grow to be a warrior. It is for every family that will now stay together. It is for my mother, that she will live a full life.

It is for them that I do this.

In my final minutes I shout to the skies and goad the serpents towards me.

They fly to me and I smile.

My sacrifice was enough.

In the bamboo forest, a laugh is heard echoing through the branches.

An old woman looks to the sky and basks in the moonlinght. She says to herself, “The child of the sun. Too foolish for his own good. Heeding words he does not know are true. His sacrifice will be remembered. Not by those he saved. But by those he believed.”

Continued from the Bakunawa’s (Kinaray-a) Tale

Written by Karl Gaverza
Copyright © Karl Gaverza

Inspired by the Muwa legends from Panay

Muwa Illustration by Billy Joe Pana Fragata
Instagram: @kuy_beige

Where we all pause
Here shall we begin

The Muwa
The Bayi-bayi
Her name, Amburukay
She hides her kept maidens
Hides them in her tower

The Muwa
The Bayi-bayi
Whoever gets her tuos*
Her golden pubic hair
Will marry her

Taghoy, the duwende
The spirit guide
Of Labaw Donggon
Tells him to fix
His broken bidya

With only the tuos
Of the Muwa
Of the Bayi-bayi
He takes it

He knows not of the tuos
Of the Muwa
Of the Bayi-bayi
He must marry
Amburukay

The wedding day
His house
The house of the groom
Is brought to the Muwa
To the Bayi-bayi

Labaw Donggon cries in despair
Not the Muwa
Not the Bayi-bayi
I cannot marry her

Amburukay
Is not there
It is her binukot
Her kept maidens
Her adopted daughters
Labaw Donggon rejoices

Where we all pause
Here shall we end

————————–————————–———————

*A tuos is a sacred vow or pledge. (This is in reference to the story wherein anyone that gets Amburukay’s golden pubic hair must marry her, as was the sacred magical binding contract of her parents)

Written by Karl Gaverza (In the style of a Sugidanon [Epic] of Panay)
Copyright © Karl Gaverza

Story adapted from Amburukay: Sugidanon (Epics) of Panay. Caballero & Caballero-Castor translation by Magos. 2015.

Amburukay Illustration by Patmai De Vera
FB : Art of Patmai
TUMBLR : http://blog.patmai.net/
IG: https://www.instagram.com/_patmai_/