*Note this story is in Tagalog-Marinduque

Kuminang ang dagat na para bagang mga dinurog na diyamante, nasisinagan ito ng mga liwanag ng bituin.

Ngayong gab-i, gaya ng iba pang mga gab-i, ito na ang ritwal niya. Dis-oras na ng gab-i, ito ay oras nang ipagtutulog na, kung kailang ang mga tao ay nananag-inip na at ito din naman ang oras na siya ay naga-isip-isip.

Akaunti na ang natitira sa kanyang inatirhan. Nagakwento noon ang nanay niya tungkol sa mga taong nagala-gala sa isla pero makamatagal nang panahon ‘yun. Tumingin naman siya sa dagat ay napakaraming turista na pumar-on para lumayo sandali sa magulong buhay sa siyudad. Dati ang lugar na ito ay paraiso para sa mga nakatira doon pero ngay-on ay para na lamang itong baong walang laman. Inubos na ng napakaraming tao na napunta at naalis din pagkatapos.

Napaiyak siya nang kaunti at naramdaman niya ang makamatinding kalungkutan. “Ay bakit nagkaganire na? Ito na baga ang kapalaran naring mga kababayan ko? Ay parang naligaw na, palaboy-laboy na laang para mahanap kung saan baga dapat ang apar-unan”.

Pumikit siya at bumuntong-hininga. Humiga siya sa buhanginan at pinabyaang maglakbay ang kanyang diwa hanggang mapuno na siya ng kadiliman.

Nagising na siya, nakapagpahinga at handa na pero para bayang may mali.

Ang mga bituin ay hindi na nasasalamin nung dagat, hindi na din niya maramdaman ang sinag ng buwan.

Sa loob-loob niya, alam na niya ang nangyayari.

Madaling araw na, kapag ganito ay mapar-on na sa bukid ang mga kapitbahay niya at magahanap-buhay na, pero naalala niyang matagal na ngani palang hindi ganito ang nangyayari. Makamatagal na ngani palang nawala ang ganitong pamumuhay.

Bumalik na siya sa tirahan at pamilya niya habang nangangapa sa dilim. Hindi naman siya naga-alaala, ganito naman na talaga maski noon pa.

Nagdilim ang kanyang paningin hanggang sa wala na siyang maaninaw.

Hanggang sa ang tabing dagat ay tinambakan na ng mga semento at konkreto.

Hanggang ang mga gubat ay nilunod na ng mga minahan.

Hanggang ang pamilya niya ay wala nang agapilian kundi mamalimos.

Alam niyang kailangan niyang sumigaw, para makalaban ulit ang araw at makaalis sa abang kalagayan. Nananalaytay ito sa kanyang dugo, sa dugo ng kanyang mga kababayan.

Ngunit mas nanaig ang katahimikan.

“Pabayai nang kunin at kainin ng sawa ‘yang araw”. Napaluhod siya at napaluha sa gitna ng kadiliman.

====-=———————-=

English Version

The sea glistened like a field of crushed diamonds, reflecting the soft light of the stars.

Tonight, as in all nights, was her ritual. It was late, the time when dreams fluttered in the minds of others, and it was this time that she could collect her thoughts.

There was little left for her in what should have been her home. Her mother had told her stories of when her people would move as nomads all over the island, but those times were long past. She looked at the beach, now filled with tourists escaping the drudgery of city life. This place was once a paradise for her people to live, now it was a hollow shell of its former self, chipped away at the ends by the consumption of man.

A soft tear made its way down her cheek, and her sorrow reaches its peak. How did it come to this, was this really the destiny of her people? Forever lost, forever wandering for their place in the world?

She closes her eyes and breathes in the night air. She lays her head on the soft sand, letting the thoughts fly through her mind until darkness fills her.

She awakens, rested and ready, yet something is not right.

The stars are not reflected on the sea, she cannot feel the warm glow of moonlight.

Instinctively she knows.

It is early, when her people would tend to the fields and go about the means of their survival, but no, she corrects herself, the old ways are gone.

She goes back to her home and her family stumbling through the darkness. It does not bother her, in a way it has followed her all her life.

The darkness fills her vision until nothing is left.

Until the beaches are covered with concrete.

Until the forests are drowned by the mines.

Until her family has to resort to begging.

She knows she has to shout, to make the sun fight back against its victimhood. It is in her blood, the blood of her people.

Yet silence reigns.

“Let the serpent take the sun.” She falls on her knees and her tears fall into the darkness.

=———————–=

*The version of Tagalog spoken in Marinduque, known as the Marinduque Tagalog, has been described as “the root from which modern national forms of speech have sprung,” where remnants of archaic Tagalog could be found, spoken in a lilting manner by its inhabitants.

Written by Karl Gaverza

Translation by Hazel Rodelas
Copyright © Karl Gaverza

Translation Copyright © Hazel Rodelas

Story inspired by the Sawa description in Creatures of Philippine Lower Mythology. Ramos. 1971.

Sawa Illustration by Patricia Zulueta
Instagram: Instagram.com/crimsonart_

*Note this story is in Cebuano

Ang dagat misidlak sama sa usa ka baol nga napuno sa nadugmok nga mga diamante nga nagpabanaag sa malumo nga kahayag sa mga bituon.

Karong gabhiona, sama sa tanang gabii, mao ang iyang ritwal. Lawom na ang gabii, takna diin ang mga damgo naglupad-lupad sa mga alimpatakan sa uban, ug mao kining panahon nga iyang matigom ang iyang mga hunahuna.

Diyotay na lang ang nahibilin alang kaniya niining iya untang puluy-anan. Gisaysayan siya sa iyang inahan matod sa panahon nga ang ilang katigulangan mobalhin-balhin sama sa mga tiglalin sa tibuok nga isla, apan kana nahitabo sa dugay na nga panahon. Mitan-aw siya sa baybayon nga karon napuno sa mga turista nga buot makalingkawas sa kahago sa kinabuhi sa siyudad. Kaniadto, kining dapita usa ka paraisong puluy-anan alang sa iyang mga katigulangan; karon, sama na kini sa usa ka haw-ang nga kabhang kon itandi sa iyang kanhing kaugalingon, nahimong huyang human sa pagkonsumo sa tawo.

Usa ka malumo nga luha ang midagayday sa iyang aping, ug ang iyang kasubo miabot sa kinapungkayan niini. Giunsa kini pagkahitabo, kini ba gayod ang kapalaran sa iyang katawhan? Hangtod sa hangtod nang nawala, hangtod sa hangtod nga maglatagaw alang sa ilang luna sa kalibotan?

Gipiyong niya ang iyang mga mata ug gihanggab ang hangin sa kagabhion. Iyang gipahiluna ang iyang ulo sa humok nga balas, gipasagdan ang mga hunahuna nga molupad sa iyang alimpatakan hangtod nga siya napuno sa kangitngit.

Nahigmata siya, nakapahulay ug andam na, apan dunay dili husto.

Ang mga bituon wala makita sa dagat, dili niya mabati ang mainitong silaw sa kahayag sa bulan.

Nahibalo dayon siya.

Sayo na sa buntag, panahon nga ang iyang katawhan mo-atiman sa mga uma ug sa mga gimbuhaton aron mabuhi, apan dili, iyang gisultihan ang iyang kaugalingon nga ang mga karaan nga pamaagi nahanaw na.

Mibalik siya sa iyang balay ug sa iyang pamilya nga napandol sa kangitngit. Wala hinuon ni makahasol niya, gani nagsunod ni niya sa tibuok niyang kinabuhi.

Ang kangitngit mipuno sa iyang panan-aw hangtod nga wala nay nahibilin.

Hangtod nga natabonan sa semento ang mga baybayon.

Hangtod nga nalumos ang kalasangan sa mga minahan.

Hangtod nga ang iyang pamilya kinahanglan nga modangop sa pagpakilimos.

Nahibal-an niya nga kinahanglan siyang mosinggit, aron ang adlaw makigbatok sa pagkabiktima niini. Anaa kini sa iyang dugo, ang dugo sa iyang katawhan.

Apan naghari ang kahilom.

“Pasagdi nga ang bitin motukob sa adlaw.” Nagluhod siya ug ang iyang mga luha ningdagayday sa kangitngit.

=———————–=

English Version

The sea glistened like a field of crushed diamonds, reflecting the soft light of the stars.

Tonight, as in all nights, was her ritual. It was late, the time when dreams fluttered in the minds of others, and it was this time that she could collect her thoughts.

There was little left for her in what should have been her home. Her mother had told her stories of when her people would move as nomads all over the island, but those times were long past. She looked at the beach, now filled with tourists escaping the drudgery of city life. This place was once a paradise for her people to live, now it was a hollow shell of its former self, chipped away at the ends by the consumption of man.

*Note this story is in Pangasinan/ Pangasinense

Aray danum na dayat et simmiling na singa sakey na butil tan abetag ng alahas (dyamante), singa apoy o parlang tan silew na bitwin.

Natan na labi, singa kaparyas ya amin na labi, say getma to, aya et otet la, dyad panaon na pankokoegip to tan say entitilek ed linawa tan nonot to et arom, ed saman na oras et sarag ton likumen say nipakna ed likna to.

Wala ney sakey na pasen na abong, imbaga tod ina to na amin na istorya to wala ney panaoy pan alis alis daray antokaman na totoo ed san aney na pasey isla. Balet say oras et naoputan la. Simmilip tan nimmingning dyad arapay patar, na dakel iray taga byek taew (turista) na immaalis nipeg na anengneng day irap na bilay ed saman na lugar.

Nen saman ayan lugar et sakey na masanting na isla na dakel na too na manbibilay, natan singa la malapatey o malainatey na lugar ya alaes la, ya naantaan ya aray arom na too na taga biyek taew (turista) na asubraan iray pinan gamit ed saman na lugar.

Immagos tan timmerter so akes to ed lupa simmabi anggad kainepan na saray pakaanta.

Tinepetan toy sarili to, “aya amo so kapalaran ya totoo dyad pasen me”.

Abalang tan abayag ya irmen so limmad pasen da.

Inpikit toy mata to tan imingas ya dagew ed kalabian to, inkarga toy lima to dyad banday ulo to ed anlimek na pasen na bwer, intokotok tod sarili to anggap napano na aliwan nonot tan kanonotan to.

Abangon tan nanpainawa, insekder totan anonotan to na aliwa so limmad kanonotan to.

Saray bitwen aga simmilew ed dayat, agto alikas so pitang daray arom na bulan.

Alikas ton amin, no amin iray too to ed saman na pasen no walay getma (posilidad) da, tan enla irad saray paka bilayan da, pero andi, abalang so limmipas na getma tan abalew to.
Pimmawel dyad abong to tan dyad saray ateng to tan apater dyad bilonget na bilay to.
Aga angiter na nipeg na panirapan tod loob to, ta anta tod sarili to na amin na too to ed unoener ed sikato dyad angadngad bilay to.
Say bilonget tan liwawa na nanpegleyan tod sikato et anggapoy akira parad sikato.

Anggad dyad patar na dayat et aliber tan abalkot lay irmen.

Anggad say pamilya to et nipeg lan enkerew na pikakasi.

Immeyag, pan nadayew tan nataktakot iray kasubeg to ya sakey na ginatinan tan biktima nen saman na agew.

Endadaloy ed dala to eray dalay totoo to tan kakaiba ton totoo.

Pero say irmen tan bilonget et pimmayagpag ed lugar da.

Pinulyanan ton laed dad oleg na agew, apatalimukor ed pweg to tan timmerter tan immagos so akes to tan apaktak ed kipapasen na ambilonget.

————————————————————

English Version

The sea glistened like a field of crushed diamonds, reflecting the soft light of the stars.

Tonight, as in all nights, was her ritual. It was late, the time when dreams fluttered in the minds of others, and it was this time that she could collect her thoughts.

There was little left for her in what should have been her home. Her mother had told her stories of when her people would move as nomads all over the island, but those times were long past. She looked at the beach, now filled with tourists escaping the drudgery of city life. This place was once a paradise for her people to live, now it was a hollow shell of its former self, chipped away at the ends by the consumption of man.

A soft tear made its way down her cheek, and her sorrow reaches its peak. How did it come to this, was this really the destiny of her people? Forever lost, forever wandering for their place in the world?

She closes her eyes and breathes in the night air. She lays her head on the soft sand, letting the thoughts fly through her mind until darkness fills her.

She awakens, rested and ready, yet something is not right.
The stars are not reflected on the sea, she cannot feel the warm glow of moonlight.

Instinctively she knows.

It is early, when her people would tend to the fields and go about the means of their survival, but no, she corrects herself, the old ways are gone.

The darkness fills her vision until nothing is left.

Until the beaches are covered with concrete.

Until the forests are drowned by the mines.

Until her family has to resort to begging.

She knows she has to shout, to make the sun fight back against its victimhood. It is in her blood, the blood of her people.

Yet silence reigns.

“Let the serpent take the sun.” She falls on her knees and her tears fall into the darkness.

——————————————————————————

*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 Joelson Dalioan Nazam
Copyright © Karl Gaverza
Translation Copyright © Joelson Dalioan Nazam

Story inspired by the Sawa description in Creatures of Philippine Lower Mythology. Ramos. 1971.

Sawa Illustration by Patricia Zulueta
Instagram: Instagram.com/crimsonart_

The sea glistened like a field of crushed diamonds, reflecting the soft light of the stars.

Tonight, as in all nights, was her ritual. It was late, the time when dreams fluttered in the minds of others, and it was this time that she could collect her thoughts.

There was little left for her in what should have been her home. Her mother had told her stories of when her people would move as nomads all over the island, but those times were long past. She looked at the beach, now filled with tourists escaping the drudgery of city life. This place was once a paradise for her people to live, now it was a hollow shell of its former self, chipped away at the ends by the consumption of man.