NOTRE DAME OF SALAMAN COLLEGE

Founded in 1965 by the Oblates

Owned by the Archdiocese of Cotabato
Managed by the Diocesan Clergy of Cotabato (DCC)

“Service for the Love of God through Mary”

(B.E.S.T)

REGION 1V – A
CALABARZON

The Legend of Mariang Makiling

(1) In the province of Laguna is a steep mountain called Makiling. Some say it is so called because it
leans to one side. Others say this is because it is thickly wooded with a shrub called pakiling, which
coarse-surfaced leaves are used by housewives for scrubbing pots and pans and floor.
(2) However it may have gotten its name, it was haunted by a fairy named Maria whom townsfolk
called Mariang Makiling. It is said that in the old days she used to come to town witn à Dasketful of fruits
on her head which she sold in the marketplace. The money she got for the fruit she later distributed
among the poor. At first the people thought she was only a woman from a different town, though her
beauty surpassed that of any other woman they had ever seen, for her tace was soft and fair and her black
hair flowed down to her ankles.
(3) One day, a young farmer who had fallen in love with her beauty followed her secretly into the
woods. However, she went so quickly through the forest growth that he lost her. He waited for heron the
next market day, but she did not come to town that day nor did she come on any day therearter. The
young man then went into the woods to search for her but she never came back. Some say
(4) The found her. Some say he was lost and that he died in the woods without seeing her again. To
this day the old folks believe Mariang Makiling still haunts the mountain. The mountain is covered with
many fruit-bearing trees. You may eat all the fruit you wish but do not try to bring any of it home. If you
do, then you will lose your way. The insects will sting you. And the very trunks of the trees will play
tricks on your eyes. Mariang Makiling will lead you completely astray. If prudent, you will throw away
all the fruits you had intended to take out. Also, you will turn your clothes inside out to assure the good
fairy that you are hiding none of her fruits on your person. Only then might Mariang Makiling relent and
lead you back on the right trail.
Tianak and Nuno Sa Punso
(1) The tianak lives in wild grass, said the Wayfarer. But the old man whom we call lakay among us
in the north and who is called matanda by the people in the south lives in earth mound.
(2) Take heed now, said the Wayfarer, when passing near a mound stretch your hand before you say,
“Old man of the mound, if it pleases you, let me pass.”
(3) “And why is that?” said the little boy.
(4) Son” said the Wayfarer, “the lakay is a very old man and has very weak eyes, especially in the
daytime. Being a creature of night, he is not visible to mortal eyes. If you come upon him without
warning, he may not be able to scramble out of your way quickly enough, and you might unknowingly
step on him. That will make him very angry indeed”
(5) The little boy laughed.
(6) “Son, it is no laughing matter, said then wayrarer. Once a man was hurrying home across the
fields and did not noticea mound on his way and he stepped on the face of the matanda of the mound and
did not know it. Arriving home, the man ate a big supper, after which he lit a big cigar and sat himself
before the window with his feet up on the still. He felt a tug at his big toe. Lookina out of the window, he
called, “Whos there”but no one answered from the dark. It is a neighbor’s prank when he got up in the
morning, he noticed something queer with his toe. It was not swollen or thought the man, and he went to
bed.
(7) When he tgot up in the morning, he noticed something queer with his toe. When he tried to find
sympathy among the painful, but it had grown twice as long as the other. When he tried painful, butt ahed
at him and said, “Poor man, the matanda or lakay has played a trick neighbors, they only laughed at him
and said on you.”
Ang Alamat ng Batangas

Napakaganda po noon sa bayan ng Batangas. Maraming mga malalaking puno ng kahoy, mga
magagandang halaman, mga bunga ng punongkahoy at gulayin. Mayroon daw po noong mga kastilang
dumating sa bayan ng Batangas. Tuwang-tuwa sila sapagkat napakaganda sa pulong iyon at pinangalanan
nila ang bayan na yaon na Komintan dahil sa magandang malaparaisong lugar na. Iyon Dahil sa ang mga
kastila ay gustong manakop at makaimpluwensiya, marami po silang naakit. Marami po silang napapag-
Katoliko at naturuang sumamba sa mga santo at isa na rito ang tinatawag nilang Santo Niño. Nagtagal po
ang mga Kastila roon at noong sila ay papaalis na, sumakay na sila sa kanilang barko ngunit may malakas
na unos o bagyong dumating kung kaya nanatili sila. Sa tuwing aalis sila, dumarating itong malakas na
unos. Nagdasal sila at umawit ng pagpupuri. Kumalma nang konti ang hangin. Nagpatuloy sila sa pag-alis
at biglang hinampas ang barkong sinasakyan nila. Doon ay nawasak ang kanilang sasakyan at marami sa
kanila ay namatay. Isang araw sa tabi ng bayan ng batangas, may isang batangan o batang na kung
liliwanagin ay troso at nakasakay doon ang isang santo Niño. Kinuha nila ito maging yung sinasakyan
nitong batangan o troso. At mula sa salitang batangan ipinangalan nila ito sa Batangas.

The Winds over Ternate

Samuel C. Lacia Jr.

This short story was written when the author lived in Temate, Cavite. Samuel C. Lacia
Jr. was born and raised in the Davao Region His love to see his written works published began in his teen
years when he was the associate editor of the high school paper of the St. Mary’s School for Boys in
Tagum, Davao. As a full government scholar of the Mindanao State University in General Santos City, he
worked as the editor-in-chief of the campus newspaper. At present, he is based in the United States of
America fulflling his religious missionary works.
 His aching feet run over piercing thorns of aromas and burning rocks along the shore. The pain in
his little feet seemed unimportant as to the distress in his mind. Tears flowed over his cheeks as he
grasped for breath. Far distance did not wear him down and he even run faster upon seeing their hut.
“Nanay, Nanay”Tonio cried aloud as he rushed toward his mother who was preparing their mean
launch. Aling Sela wiped off her wet hands with her thick, dusty skirt. “Again, Tonio” she looked at the
boy with indifference, “Tm sure, you’re bringing another misfortune into our contemptible condition
“But Nanay, Maestro Cardo whipped me repeatedly with his stick” Tonio walked closer to his
mother and spread his arms to embrace her. But the middle-aged woman flung his hands away fromher.
“Mang Cardo just did his job. Stubborn like you must be punished. Now, sit over and eat your meal
I don’t like to eat, Nanay” the boy cried again and went outside. “There you are idiot, better hang
yourself” Aling Sela yelled at him. He sat below the smelly fishing nets and continued weeping.
The rays of the sun became warmer. Two dozen young boys and girls listened attentVey to a
white-haired, bulky man.”I supposed you did your homework, all of you’ his voice echoed inside the
room. Yes, Teacher the pupils responded in unison. “Some of you just don’t learn, Maestro Cardo said
angrily, “these people make me furious, but I tell you, you’ll never beat me:
After almost an hour of overflowing sermon, the teacher grabbed a piece of chalk and started to
scribble in the blackboard. The formal lesson began.
“Hoy, where is Tonio?” Joel whispered at the boy in front of him. But Carlo showed no interest.
He continued writing on his notebook. Joel held the tip of his pencil and reached for Carlos nape.
“Aray” grimaces Carlo and turned his face at his back. “I don’t know and I don’t care” he
saidirately.
Maestro Cardo raised his head and looked toward the direction of the two boys. “You, sons of
boar, what the hell are you mumbling over there?” Maestro Cardo exclaimed, “What are you doing?”
Carlo raised his hands and pointed the boy at his back. “Teacher, Joel kept on asking me about
tonio” he explained.
“Ah, you want to know about Tonio’s situation” Maestro Cardo stared angrily at Joel. The boy
could not stand the wrathful look. He looked down and quipped,”l, I just wanted to know…”
“Okay” the teacher threw the chalk and walked fast toward Joel. “Your friend, your hard-headed
friend is no longer interested to attend classes. Dullards like him don’t see the value of education. Now,
what more do you want to know, ha?” His index finger was drilling on the lad’s head. Again, silence
enveloped the room.
The bell clanged repeatedly. Students were running noisily away from the school. Everyone
toward his home.
“Aray, Nanay, aray!”Tonio cried for mercy
“You’re like your silly father. You don’t look for a bright future Aling Sela uttered while pulling
Tonio’s ear. “Baldo told me you’re not in school during the past days. Where have you been, ha?”
“Forgive me, Nanay, but l have to cure my injured thighs at the shore”Tonio sobbed.
“Better for you to get killed, useless animal” Aling Sela unfeelingly told him.
 “Now, stand up and deliver that to the market, she pointed at the buckets of mollusks. With his
ear as red as that of a roasted pig, Tonio grabbed the yield from the sea. He headed to the old, sleepy
town. His black, native dog followed him.
He could hear the noise coming from a few tricycles as he drew near the crowded place. He was
bathed in sweat. His weary hands trembled but still holding firmly the buckets, place. He was pssst,
Tonio, bring that talaba to me, a plump, Curly woman yelled while fanning over segregated fish and
oysters. “Oh, the way you walk and your ear, could say that Sela must be angry at you, isn’t
She?”Tonio nodded.

“Here. Put down those buckets and give thisTo yourtroubled mother: And hey, don’t skip classes
Ac Robov told me. You have to study so you won’t always smel like a salted fish and live like a crab, ha,
ha, hal’The other vendors also roared in laughter. People were rushing toward their homes. Classes were
suspended. Stores closed. At high noon, Ternate, appeared like a ghost town. Nobody was walking along
the grey streets. Most of the families monitored the news on their transistor radios. Others gathered
around their altar. Fear enwrapped the small town.
“Tonio, don’t forget to put some weights atop!” Aling Sela shouted.
“Yes, Nanay” the boy responded while tying the rope at the mangrove tree. He checked the
braces around their house and gathered some rocks and miscut timber. He climbed the roof
“Whooosha strong wind dashed across the town. Heavy rains poured and suddenly stopped.
Again, a strong wind blew one after another. The great typhoon has arrived.
Night came unnoticed. It was dark since noon. Rain and punishing winds came alternately. Lights
went out.
“Tonio! Tonio! The seawater has come in below our house!” aling Sela yelled while shoving
Tonio’s shoulder. He was not asleep. Nobody can do it with such an alarming condition.
“Nanay, we have to move in the bodega”’the boy was referring to the hut nearby but Iocated atop
the hill. There, dried fish were stocked when it came abundantly. Mollusks shells were also holed up and
tied there with nylon cords.
“At once, Tonio, here give me that bundle of clothes Aling Sela grabbed her little treasure and
prepared to leave.
“I’ll pull our banca to a higher ground” Tonio informed his mother.
“No, just leave it there Aling Sela negated.
“Please, Nanay, the water is still shallow” the boy insisted on saving what to him was their costly
asset.
“But do it hastily, ha?” Aling Sela allowed reluctantly and headed toward the small hill. at the
shore,Tonio saw the white lines of the rushing waveś. Froth and floating objects surrounded his legs. He
pulled the rope of his slender, boat but the forces of returning water draw it away from him. He tried to
pull the banca many times. But all his efforts were in vain.
 Tonio stared at the dark sea. He threw away the rope and walked toward the agitated water. The
water crawled higher and higher in his small frame until it reached his chest. Howling winds roared
deafening his ears and angry waves were dashing to swallow him. Fierce winds slapped his soft face and
crescent-shaped waves encased the arrogant boy.
Aling Sela cried loudly and repeatedly his name. But only the howling sound of the winds
responded. as the sun appeared, people were busy attending their damaged properties. Angry words and
regrets came out from everyone’s mouth.
The school was a mess. Leaves and mud abounded in corridors and rooms. Fallen ipil-ipil
treestore the roof and fences. Baldo, the school guard could only scratch and shake his head.

“Whew” Maestro Cardo uttered mournfully upon seeing the battered school. He swept away wet
twigs and leaves with his long stick as he made his way to his office.
“Good morning, Teacher a smal, cold voice broke.maestro Cardo turned his face and looked at
the boy. He could not utter a word and hastily walked away.
Tonio smiled slightly. A chilly wind blew above his ears.

REGION IV-B
MIMAROPA

Tagbanua Myth
(Palawan)

The creator made the first man, Adan. But he was like a stone for he could not speak. Then the
creator made earth and the man could speak. The creator felt a deep pity for Adan, as he had no
companion, One day Adan went to sleep and weak he awoke, he had a companion iba, now the couple
had three children.
One afternoon Adan went to sleep. As he was only wearing his loincloth, his scrotum and penis
were exposed. The first child laughed very hard at this sight and was exceedingly impolite. He became he
rather of Moros. The third child took a blanket and carefullv covered his father’s exposed parts. He
became the father of the Spaniards. This was the origin of the Tagbanua.

POEM
Ambahan
(Hanunoo-Mangyan)

Ambahan 1 Filipino Translation by Antoon Postma, SVD

Ako mana manrigsan I would like to take a bath,
Sa may panayo pinggan scoop the water with a plate,
Sa may tupas balian wash the hair with lemon juice;
Ako ud nakarigsan but I could not take a bath,
Tinambong bahayawan because the river is dammed
Sinag-uli batangan. With a lot of sturdy trunks!

Ambahan2
Anong si kanaw bulan Look! The moon so full and bright,
Sinmalag na rantawan shining in front of the house!
Kabaton lugod ginan How can you explain to me,
Salhag mabalaw diman that the rays are soft and cool?
No ga tayo di ngaran Ifa man like us he were,
Kang way inunyawidan Iwould hold him by the hand!
Palalay ngatay huytan. Seize the hair to keep him back!
Buhok ngatay tawidan Grasp the cdothes and make him stay!
Unhunon sab araw man But how could I manage that!
Tida ti kanaw bulan It is the moon in the sky!
Tida kuramo diman The full moon shining so bright
May bantod pagpaday-an going down beyond the hills,
May ratag pagrun-ugan disappearing from the plain,
May Hi pag-alikdan out of sight beyond the rocks

SHORT STORY
The Bread of Salt
N.VM. Gonzales

N.V.M Gonzales was born in Romblon in 1915. After high school, he studied Law but
concentrated on writing. He taught at the University of the Philippines, University of Sto. Tomas, and
University of California at Berkeley and Santa Barbara. He received the National Artist Award for
Literature in 1997.
Usually I was in bed by ten and up by five and thus was ready for one more day of my fourteenth
year, Unless Grandmother had forgotten, the fhfteen centavos for the baker down Progreso Street and
howlenjoyed jingling those coins in my pocket!-would be in the emptyfruit jar in the cupboard. I would
remember then that rolls were what Grandmother wanted because recently she had lost three molars. For
young people like my cousins and myself, she had always said that the kind called pan de sal ought to be
quite all right.
The bread of salt! How did it get that name? From where did its flavor come, through what secret
action of flour and yeast? At the risk of being jostled from the counter by early buyers, I would push my
way into the shop so that I might watch the men who, stripped to the waist, worked their long flat wooden
spades in and out of the glowing maw of the oven. Why did the bread come nut-brown and the size of my
little fist? And why did it have a pair of lips convulsed into a painful frown? In the half light of the street,
and hurrying, the paper bag pressed to my chest, i felt my curiosity a little gratified by the oven-fresh
warmth of the bread I was proudly bringing home for breakfast.
Well l knew how Grandmother would not mind ifI nibbled away one d be piece; betraying
perhaps,I a trust; might the and eve dark so, ever eat two, to be charged later against my share at the table.
But that would my be steps and indeed, I kept my purchase intact. To guard it from harm,I watched my
steps and avoided riverbed For my beyond reward,I it wh had only to look in the directlon of the sea wall
hen and the the bed fitty was yards dry or and so the of street corners.
For my reward, I had only to look in the direction of the sea wall and the fifty yards or so of reviebed
beyond it, where an old Spaniard’s house stood. At low tide, when the bed was dry and the rocks glinted
with broken bottles, the stone fence of the Spaniard’s compound and set off the house as if it were a
castle. Sunrise brought a wash of silver upon the roofs of the laundry dripped from the bamboo screen
which covered the veranda and hung four or five yards from the ground. Unless it was August when the
damp, northeast monsoon had to be kept away from the rooms, three servants raised the screen promptly
at six-thirty until it was completely hidden under the veranda eaves. From the sound of the pulleys, I
knew it was time to set out for school.
It was in his service, as a coconut plantation overseer, that Grandfather had spent the last thirty
years of his life. Grandmother had been widowed three years now, I often wondered whether I was being
aepended upon to spend the years ahead in the service of this great house. One day I learned that Aida, a
classmate in high school, was the old Spaniard’s niece. All my doubts disappered. It was as it, before his
death, Grandfather had spoken to me about her, concealing the seriousness of the matter Dy putting it
over as a joke. If now I kept true to the virtues, she would step out of her bedroom ostensibly to say good
morning to her uncle. Her real purpose, I knew, was to reveal thus her assent to my desire.

On quiet mornings l imagined the patter of her shoes upon the wooden veranda floor as a further
sign, and I would hurry ff to school, taking the route she had fixed for me past the post office, the town
plaza and the church, the health center east of the plaza, and at last the schoo grounds .I asked myself
whether I would try to walk with her and decided it would be the height of rudeness. Enough that in her
blue skirt and white middy she would be half a block ahead and, from that distance, perhaps throwa
glance in my direction, to bestow upon my heart a deserved and abundant blessing. I believed it was in
some such way is this, her mission in my life is disguised.
Her name, I was to learn many years later, was a convenient mnemonic for the qualities to which
argument might aspire. But in those days it was a living voice, “Oh that you might be wortny of uttering
me’ it said. And howl endeavored to build my body so that I might live long to honor her. With every
victory at singles at the handball court-the game was then the craze at school-I could feel my body glow
in the sun as though it had instantly been cast in bronze. I guarded my mind and did not let my wits go
astray. In class I would not allow a lesson to pass unmastered. Our English teacher could put no question
before us that did not have a ready answer in my head. One day he read Robert Louis Stevenson’s The
Sire de Maletroit’s Door, and we were so enthralled that our breath trembled. I knew then that somewhere
sometime in the not-too-improbable future, a benign old man with a lantern in his hand would also detain
me in a secret room, and there daybreak wouid find me thrilled by the sudden certainty that I had won
Aida’s hand.
It was perhaps on my violin that her name wrought such a tender spell. Maestro Antonino
remarked on the dexterity of my stubby fingers. Quickly I raced through Alarduntil I had all but
committed two-thirds of the book to memory. My short, brown arm learned at last to draw the bow with
grace. Sometimes, when practicing my scales in the early evening, I wondered if the sea wind carrying
the straggling notes across the pebbled river did not transform them into Schubert’s Serenade.
 At last Mr. Custodio, who was in charge of our school orchestra, became aware of my progress.
He moved me from second to first violin. During Thanksgiving Day program he bade me render a
number complete with pizzicati and harmonies.
“Another Vallejo! Our own Albert Spaldingl”I heard from the front row.
Aida, I thought, would be in the audience. I looked around qulckly but could not see her. As
retired to my place in the orchestra l heard Pete Saez, the trombone player, call my name.
“You must join my band”he said. “Look, we’ll have many engagements soon. Itll be vacation
time
Pete pressed my arm. He had for some time now been asking me to join the Minviluz orcnesud
his private band. AllI had been able to tell him was that I had my schoolwork to mind. He was twenty
two.was perhaps too young to be going around with him. He earned his school fees and supported his
mother hiring out his band at least three or four times a month. He now said:
Tomorrow we play at the funeral of a Chinese-four to six in the afternoon; in the evening Judge
Roldan’s silver wedding anniversary; Sunday, the municipal dance.”
My head began to whirl. On the stage, in front of us, the principal had begun a speech about
America. Nothing he could say seemed interesting. Ii thought of the money I would earn. For several days
now had but one wish, to buy a box of linen stationery. At night when the house was quiet would fill the
sheets with words that would tell Aida how much I adored her. One of these mornings, perhaps before
school closed for the holidays, I would borrow her algebra book and there, upon a good pageful of
equations, there l would slip my message, tenderly pressing the leaves of the book.
She would perhaps never write back. Neither by post nor by hand would a reply reach me. But no matter;
it wOuld be a silence full of voices.
That night I dreamed I had returned from a tour of the world’s music centers; the newspapers of
Manila had been generous with praise. I saw my picture on the cover of a magazine. A writer had
described how, many years ago, I used to trudge the streets of Buenavista with my violin in a batterea
black cardboard case. In New York, he reported, a millionaire had. Offered me a Stradivarius violin, with
a card that bore the inscriptipn: “In admiration of a genius your own people must surely be proud of
dreamed I spent a weekend at the millionaire’s country house bythe Hudson. A young girl in a bluee skirt
and white middy clapped her lilywhite hands and, her voicè trembling, cried “Bravo!”
What people now observed at home was the diligence with which I attended to my violin lessons.
My aunt, who had come from the farm to join her children for the holidays, brought with her a
maidservant, and to the poor girl was given the chore of taking the money to the baker’s for rolls and pan
de sal. I realized at once that it would be no longer becoming on my part to make these morning trips to
the baker’s. I could not thank my aunt enough.
I began to chafe on being given other errands. Suspecting my violin to be the excuse, my aunt
remarked: “What do you want to be a musician for? At parties, musicians always eat last”
Perhaps, Isaid to myself, she was thinking of a pack of dogs scrambling for scraps tossed over the
fence by some careless kitchen maid. She was the sort you could depend on to say such vulgar things. For
that reason, I thought, she ought not to be taken seriously at al.
 But the remark hurt me. Although Grandmother had counseled me kindly to mind my work at
school, I went again and again to Pete Saez’s house for rehearsals.
She had demanded that I deposit with her my earnings;I had felt too weak to refuse. Secretly, I
counted the money and decided not to ask for it until I had enough with which to buy a brooch. Why this
time I wanted to give Aida a brooch, I didn’t know. But I had set my heart on it. I searched the downtown
shops. The Chinese clerks, seeing me so young, were annoyed when linquired about prices.
At last the Christmas season began. I had not counted on Aida’s leaving home, and remembering
that her parents lived in Badajoz, my torment was almost unbearable, not once had I tried to tell her of my
love. My letters had remained unwritten, and the algebra book unborrowed. There was still the brooch to
find, but I could not decide on the sort of brooch I really wanted. And the money, in any case, was in
Grandmother’s purse, which smelled of Tiger Balm.I grew somewhat feverish as our class Christmas
program drew near. Finally it came; it wasa warm December afternoon.Idecided fto leave the room when
our English teacher announced that members of the class might exchange gifts. I felt fortunate; Pete was
at the door, beckoning to me. We walked out to the porch where, Pete said, he would tell me a secret.
Was about an asalto the next Sunday which the Buenavista Women’s Club wished to give Don
Esteban’s daughters, Josefina and Alicla, who were arriving on the morning steamero dhe spinsters were
much loved by the ladies. Years ago, when they were younger, his lios ash-arav solfeggio with Josefina
and the piano and harp with Alicla. As Pete told me al this, his lips ash-gray rom practicing all morning
on his trombone, I saw in my mind the sisters in thelr silk dresses, shuffling off to church for the evening
benediction. They were very devout, and the Buenavista ladies admired that. I had almost forgotten that
they were twins and, despite their age, often dressed alike, in low bosomed voile bodices and white
summer hats, I remembered, the pair had attended Grandfathers funeral, at old Don Esteban’s behest. I
wondered how successful they had been in Manila during the past three years in the matter of finding
suitable husbands.
“This party will be a complete surprise” Pete said, looking around the porch as if to swear me to
secrecy. “They’ve hired our band” joined my classmates in the room, greting everyone with a Merry
Christmas jollier than that of the others. When I saw Aida in one corner unwrapping something two girls
had given her, Touna the boldness to greet her also.
“Merry ChristmasI said in English, as a hairbrush and a powder case emerged from the fancy
wrapping. It seemed to me rather apt that such gifts went to her. Already several girls were gathered.
Around Aida. Their eyes glowed with envy, it seemed to me, for those fair cheeks and the bobbled dark-
brown hair which lineage had denied them.
I was too dumbstruck by my own meanness to hear exactly what Aida said in answer to my
greeting. But I recovered shortly and asked:
“Will you be away during the vacation?”
“No, l be staying here” she said. When she added that her cousins were arriving and that a big
party in their honor was being planned, I remarked:
“So you know all about it?”I felt I had to explain that the party was meant to be a surprise, an
asalto.
And now it would be nothing of the kind, really. The women’s club matrons would hustle about,
disguising their scurrying around for cakes and candies as for some baptismal party or other. In the end,
the Rivas sisters would outdo them. Boxes of meringues, bonbons, ladyfingers, and cinnamon buns that
only the Swiss bakers in Manila could make were perhaps coming on the boat with them. I imagined a
table glimmering with long-stemmed punch glasses; enthroned in that array would be a huge brick-red
bowl of gleaming china with golden fiowers around the brim. The local matrons, however hard they tried;
sincere their efforts, were bound to fail in their aspiration to rise to the level of Don Esteban’s daughters.
Perhaps,I thought, Alda knew all this. And thatI shoüld share in a foreknowledge of the matrons’hopes
was a matter beyond love. Aida and I could laugh together with the gods.
At seven, on the appointed evening, our small band gathered quietly at the gate of Don Esteban’s
house and when the ladies arrived in their heavy shawls and trim panuelos, twittering with excitement, we
were commanded to play the Poet and Peasant Overture. As Pete directed the band, his eyes glowed with
pride for his having been part of the Dig event.The multicolored lights that the old Spaniard’s gardeners
had strung along the vine-covered tence were switched on, and the women remarked that Don Esteban’s
daughters might have made some preparations after all. Pete hid his face from the glare. If the women felt
let down, they did not show it.
The overture, shuffled led along to its climax while fve men in white shirts bore huge boxes of
goods into the house. I recognized one of the bakers in spite of the uniform. A chorus of confused
greetings, and the women troopea into tne nouse ana Derore we had settled in the sala to play A basket of
Roses, the heavy damask curtains at tne rar end or the room were drawn and a lona table richly spread
was revealed under the chandeliers. I remembered that, in our haste to be on hand tor the asalto, Pete and
I had discouraged the members of the band from taking their suppers.
“You’ve done us a great honor!” Josefina, the more buxom of the twins, greeted the ladies.
“Oh, but you have not allowed us to take you by surprise!” the ladies demurred in a chorus.
There were sighs and further protestations amid a rustle of skirts and the glitter of earrings. I saw
Aida in a ong, Tlowing white gown and wearing an arch of sampaguita flowers on her hair. At her
command, two servants brought outa gleaming harp from the music room. Only the slightest scraping
could be heard because the servants were barefoot. As Aida directed them to place the instrument near the
seats we occupied, my heart leaped to my throat. Soon she was lost among the guests, and we played The
Dance of the Glowworms. I kept my eyes closed and held for as long as could her radiant figure before
me.
Alicia played on the harp and then, in answer to the deafening applause, she offered an encore.
Josefina sang afterward. Her voice, though a little husky, fetched enormous sighs. For her encore, she
gave The Last Rose of Summer and the song brought back snatches of the years gone by. Memories of
solfeggio lessons eddied about us, as if there were rustling leaves scattered all over the hall. Don Esteban
appeared. Earlier, he greeted the crowd handsomely, twisting his moustache to hide a natural shyness
before talkative women. He stayed long enough to listen to the harp again, whispering in his
rapture:”Heavenly. Heavenly.”
By midnight, the merrymaking lagged. We played while the party gathered around the great table
at the end of the sala. My mind travelled across the seas to the distant cities I had dreamed about. The
sisters sailed among the ladies like two great white liners amid a fleet of tugboats in a bay. Someone had
thoughtfully remembered-and at last Pete Saez signalled to us to put our instruments away. We walked in
single file across the hall, led by one of the barefoot servants.
 Behind us a couple of hoarse sopranos sang La Paloma to the accompaniment of the harp, but did
not care to find out who they were. The sight of so much silver and china confused me. There wasmore
food before us than I had ever imagined.I searched in my mind for the names of the dishes but my
ignorance appalled me. I wondered what had happened to the boxes of food that the Buenavista ladies had
sent up earlier. In a silver bowl was something, I discovered, that appeared like whole egg yolks that had
been dipped in honey and peppermint. The seven of us in the orchestra were all of one mind about the
feast; and so, confident that I was with friends, I allowed my covetousness to have its sway and not only
stuffed my mouth with this and that confection but also wrapped up a quantity of those egg-yolk things in
several sheets of napkin paper. None of my companions had thought of doing the same, and it was with
some pride that I slipped the packet under my shirt. There, I knew, it would not bulge.
“Have you eaten?”
Iturned around. It was Aida. My bow tie seemed to tighten around my collar. I mumbled
somethingl did not know what.
“If you wait a little while till they’ve gone, Iil wrap up a big package for you, she added.
I brought a handkerchief to my mouth. I might have honored her solicitude adequately and even
relieved myself of any embarrassment;I could not quite believe that she had seen me, and yet I was sure
that she knew what I had done, and Ifelt all ardor for her gone from me entirely.
I walked away to the nearest door, praying that the damask curtains might hide me in my shame.
The door gave on to the veranda, where once my love had trod on sunbeams. Outside it was dark, and a
faint wind was singing at the background.
With the napkin balled up in my hand, I flung out my arm to scatter the egg-yolk things in the
dark.I waited for the soft sound of their fall on the garden-shed roof. Instead, I heard a spatter in the rising
night tide beyond the stone fence. Farther away glimmered the light from Grandmott window, calling me
home.

But the party broke up at one or thereabouts. We walked away with our instruments after the
matrons were done with their interminable goodbyes. Then, to the tune of Joy to the World, we pulled the
Progreso Street shopkeepers out of their beds. The Chinese merchants were especially generous when
Pete divided our collection under a street lamp, there was already a little glow of daybreak.
He walked with me part of the way home. We stopped at the baker’s when I told him that wanted
to buy with my own money some bread to eat on the way to Grandmother’s house at theedge of the sea
wall. He laughed, thinking it strange that I should be hungry. We found ourselves alone at the counter;
and we watched the bakery assistants at work until our bodies grew warm from the oven across the door.
It was not quite five, and the bread was not yet ready.
REGION V
BICOL REGION
EPIC
Ibalon
 (1) Si Baltog ang bayani ng epikong lbalon. Anak siya ni Haring Handiong. Siya ang aunaunahang
nakarating sa Bikol pagkatapos ng Gunaw o tinatawag na malaking baha. Nakarating siya sa
Bikol sa paghahanap ng pook na maaring panahanan ng kanyang mga nasasakupan. Aning
Handiong na kanyang ama ang hari ng Samar.
(2) Sa Bikol ay nakatagpo ni Baltog ang mga buwayang lumilipad at mga higanteng baboy ramo
pinatay niya ang mga ito. Siya’y nakatagpo ng isang ahas na may ulong isang babae. Ang naturang ahas
ay nakatira sa bundok ng Asok. Hindi niva mapasuko ang ahas kayat tinulungan kanyang amang si
Haring Handiong. Ang ahas na nagngangalang Oriol ay hindi lamang
(3) Nang maihanda na ni Baltog ang Bikol ay pinalipat na niya roon ang kanyang mga tauhan. Ang
nila napasuko kundi naging katulong pa nila sa paglupig sa mga kaaway kanyang amang hari, kasama ang
mga sakop nito ay lumipat din. Tinuruan ng mag-ama ang kanilang mga nasasakupan ng wastong
pamumuhay at mga industriya. Ang lahat ay namunay nang maligaya at matiwasay sapagkat itinuro nina
Handiong at Baltog ang manusay na pagsusunuran ng panginoon at alipin.
(4) Ang epikong Ibalon ay inawit ng isang manlalakbay na nagngangalang Kadugnong. Siyay
hinangaan dahil sa kanyang kahusayan sa pagkukuwento. Nakarating siya sa iba’t ibang, lugar sa,
Kabikulan at ikinuwento niya ang nakatagong hiwaga ng pagkakabuo ng Bikol at pakikipagsapalaran ng
mag-amang Haring Handiong at Baltog
FOLK SONG
Sarong Banggi
Sa higdaan
Nakadangog ako ning huni ning
Sarong gamgam
Sa luba ko katurungan
Bako kundi simong boses iyo palan.
Koro
Dagos ako bangon
Si sakuyan mata iminuklat
Kadtong kadikluman
Ako nangalaglakag
Si sakong paghiling pasiring sa itaas
Simong lawog
Nahiling ko maliwanag.

LEGEND
Alamat ng Bulkang Mayon
 (Bicol Version)
(1) Kaidtong ynot na aldaw ay igwang sarong daragang nakaistar sa ibalon na ang pangaran ay
Daragang Magayon. Siya ang pinakamagayon na daraga sa gabos na tribo sa Kabikulan. Si
Magayon ay aqui ni Raha Makusog asin ni Dawani. Alagad si Dawani na saiyang ina, ay amay na
Nagadan, pagkatapos na maipangaqui si Daragang Magayon.

(2) Sa bilog nin Kabikulan, igwang sarong lalaki, pinakamakusog na lider asin kapitan nin sarong
Tribo an nagkaigwang pagkamoot ki Daragang Magayon. Para makua ni Pagtuga an simpatya ni
Daragang Magayon asin ni Raha Makusog nà saiyang ama, ay pirmi siyang nagpapadara ning
regalo asin masisiram na kakanon.

(3) Pagkalipas ning pirang aldaw ay nagpasyar si Pagtuga ki Magayon asin nagsabi nin saiyang
pagkamoot. Alagad si Daràgang Magayon ay mayo nin pagkamoot ki Pagtuga a an saiytang puso
ay para na ki Panangoron. Nin huli ta, isinalbar siya ni Panangoron kan siyà ay nalolonod sa
sarong salog, kaya nahulog ang saiyang boot sasultirong si Panangoron. Lyo mini si Panangoron,
nahulog man ang saiyang boot.

(4) Pagkalipoas man ning pirang aldaw ay nagpasyar man si Panangoron ki Magayon. Nagsabi
siyanin pagkamoot asin inako man tulos ni Magayon. Dai naghaloy nagsabi na o nagpaaram na
sindaki Raha Makusog na ama ni Magayon, na sinadang duwa ay nagkakaminootan. Nagdisisyon
man tulos si Raha Makusog na sindang duwa ay dapat magpakasal. Nin huli igdi, nagpauli si
panangoron sa sainda na ogmahon na maray, asin nagpreparar tulos sa maabot na kasal sasainda.
(5) An pagpapakasal ninda ay naaraman ni Pagtuga, Kaya naanggotsiya asin naggibo nin paagi na
mapagulan an kasal ni Panangoron asin ni Magayon. Minsan, kan naglalakaw si Raha Makusog pasiring
sa bukid ay nahiling siya ni Pagtuga asin binihag siya. Ipinasabi ni Pagtuga ki Daragang magayon na
bubutasan sana niya an ama ni Magayon kun siya ay magpapaagom sa saiya. Peru kun dai ay gagadanon
niya si Raha Makusog. Nin huli ta namomot-an na maray ni Magayon angsaiyang ama, nagparahibi siya
asin mamundo na nagtugot sa kagustuhan ni Pagtuga ni Raha makusog asinsinugo niya ang saiyang mga
tawuhan para sa saindang kasal.
(6) Ang mga pangyayaring ini ay naaramanni Panangoron. Kaya imbis na magpreparar siya sa kasal
ninda ni Magayon, ay nagsugo siya sa saiyng mga tawuhan na magpreparar sa paglusob sa tribo ni
Pagtuga. Sa labanan ay nagadan ni Panangoron si Pagtuga. Kan mahiling ni Magayon an saiyng
namomot-an na si Panangoron ay nagparadalagan siya pasiring ki Panangoron.. Peru, sa dai inaasahan,
tinamaan siya nin sibat sa likod niya, Habang si Magayon ay kogos-kogos ni Panangonon ay nagadan
siya. Nagparahibi si Panangoron nin makusog sa pagawara ni Magayon. Habang nagpaparahibi siyabigla
siyung simlutl in Linog, tawuhan ni Pagtuga, asin nagadan man si Pniuingovn.Nling ana Makusog an
guiniboni Linog ki Panangoron.kayu dinalaganan man siya ni Rana Makusog asin tinaga niya ini ning
“Minasbad” hanggang sa magadan.
(7) Ang maogmang okasyon ay naribayan ning mamundong pangyayari nin huli ta kadakul na
karadan, kaibahan na igdi ang nagmiminootan na si Magayon asin si Panangoron. Si Raha makusog na
mismo an naglubong sa saiyang aki kaiba si Panangoron.
(8) Pagkalipas nin pirang taon, nahiling na an pinaglubungan ki Daragang Magayon ay dikit-dikit na
naglalangkaw hanggang sa ini naging bulkari, na may pinakamagayon na korte. Ang bulkan na ini ay
nagbubuga nin nagkakalayong mga laboy asin gapo. Dai naghaloy, an pinakamagayon asin may
perpektong korteng bulkan ay inapod na susog sa pangaran ni Daragang agayon, asin an kada pagputok
kan bulkan ay isinusog man sa pangaran ni Pagtuga, na naglaladawan kan sa-iyang sobrang kaanggotan.
Asin an mga panginoron sa palibot kaini ayan mga pagkamoot ni panangoron ki Magayon at saka ang
uran asin ambon na nagbabagsak sa bulkan ay an mga luha ni Panangoron ni huli sa pagkawara ni
Magayon.
(9) Ang bulkan sa sakuyang iniistorya sa saindo; na may perpekto asin pinakamagayon na korte ay
mahihiling ta sa Probinsiya nin Albay, banwaan nin Daraga, harani sa ciudad ni Legaspl. An mayon ni ini
ay an inaapod na Bulkan Mayon.

The Legend of Mayon Volcano

(English Version)
Translation by Teresita E. Erastain

(1) In the olden days there lived in Ibalon a lovely maiden named Daragang Magayon. She was
the daughter of Rajah Makusog of Rawis and Dawani, who died shortly after Magayon’s birth.
(2)Daragang Magayon’s beauty was noticed by many suitors from different tribes. Among them
was the haughty Pagtuga, the great hunter and powerful chieftain from Iriga, who courted her by
lavishing her father fabulous gifts.
(3)But Daragang Magayon did not love Pagtuga. She had given her heart to Panganoron, the
brave son of Rajah Karilaya of the far-off Tagalog region. He had saved her from death in the river one
morning. She had gone to bathe in the Yawa River which was swollen after a night of heavy rain.
Balancing herself on a stone, she slipped and fellinto the water. She did not know how to swim, and she
would have been carried away by the swift current had Panganoron not come to her rescue. He happened
to be pass g by, and when he heard the maiden’s frantic cry for help, he plunged into the river. In an
instant, he was at her side. Then he tenderly carried the frightened girl to dry land.
(4)Not long after, he spoke to her of his love. Daragang Magayon shyly admitted that she had
also fallen in love with him. This gave the youth courage to thrust his spear at the foot of the stairs at
Rajah Makusog’s house.
(5) Realizing that his daughter loved the young man and wishing only happiness for her,
Makusog gave the couple his blessing. With greatjoy, Panganoron left for home to prepare for the
wedding.
(6)The news of the approaching wedding reached Pagtuga’s ears in no time. He was very angry.
And he thought of a way to prevent the marriage. One day, when Rajah Makusog went to the
mountains to hunt, Pagtuga waylaid him and took him captive.
(7)1 will set you free only if you give me Magayon for a wife: Pagtuga told Makusog.
(8) The answer is not mine to give. Ask Magayon herself” said the Rajah.
(9) And so Daragang Magayon was brought before Pagtuga. Told that Makusog would be put to
death if she refused to be Pagtuga’s bride, she tearfully consented to marry him.
 (10) “We shall be married in seven days” said Pagtuga. And he ordered his people to prepare for the
wedding.
(11) Learning of this sudden turn of events, Panganoron abandoned his own wedding preparations
andatuyreturned to Rawis with his brave warriors. In the battle that ensued, Panganoron siew ragtuga ut
while Magayon was joyous to meet her beloved, a stray arrow caught her at tne dack. AS Panganoron
held the dying maiden in his arms, he was struck dead by a spear hurled by Linog Pagtuga’s henchman.
Seeing this, Makusog rushed at Linog and killed him with his minasbad.
(12) Thus, What would have been a joyful occasion became a day of mourning as the people buried
their dead. Rajah Makusog himself dug the grave where he tenderly laid the bodies of the lovers.
(13) Days atter the people saw the grave rise. As it grew higher, eventually assuming the form of
peerless cone, it was attended by muffled rumblings and quakes. Then it spewed out red-hot doersirom its
crater. Even now, it does so from time to time. Old folks explain the phenomenon as Pagtuga, aided by
Linog, agitating the volcano to retrieve his gifts, which, following an ancient custom, were buried with
Magayon.
(14)On certain days, when the tip of the volcano is shrouded in mist and cloud, the old folks say that
panganoron i5 kissing Magayon. When afterwards rain trickles down the mountain slopes, they say that
the raindrops are Panganoron’s tears as he cries over his lost love.
(15) The volcano’s name has since been shortened to Mayon. Its majestic shape lords over the lovely
countryside of Albay.

Suggested Study Guide

1. Describe the stereotyped character traits of men that are shown in this legend.
2. Identify the beliefs and practices of the Bicolanos that are shown in the story.
3. Explain the Filipino values that are reflected in the story.

EPIC
Baltog
(Bikol)

A long, long time ago, there was à rich land called lbalong. The hero Baltog, who came from
botavara of the brave clan of Lipod, came to this land when many monsters were still roaming in its very
dark forests. He decided to stay and was the first to cultivate its field and to plant them with gabi.
Then one night, a monstrous, wild boar known as Tandayag saw these field and destroyed the
crops. Upon knowing this, Baltog decided to look for this boar with all his courage and patience. At last,
as soon as he saw it, he fearlessly wrestled with it with al his might. Baltog was unafraid. He was strong
and brave. Though the Tandayag had very long fangs, he was able to pin down the monstrous, wild boar
and break apart its very big jawbones, With this, Tandayag fell and died.
After this fight, Baltog went to his house in Tondol, carrying Tandayag’s broken jawbones. Then,
he hung it on a talisay tree in front of his house. Upon learning of the victory of their Chief Baltog, the
people prepared a feast and celebrated. The very big jawbones of the dead boar became attraction for
everyone. Thus, came the tribes of Pahikwason and Asog to marvel at it.
FOLK TALE
The War of the Dragonflies and the Monkeys
(Bikol)
Dean S. Fansler

Dean S. Fansler was an American professor, editor, and was one of the famous early teachers of
English in the Philippines. He also published an anthology of folk tales, Fipino opular Tales, in 1921.

One day, when the sun was at the zenith and the air was very hot, a poor dragonfly, fatigued with
her long journey, alighted to rest on the branch of a tree in which a great many monkeys lived. While she
was fanning herself with her wings, a monkey approached her, and said, ‘Aha! What are you doing here,
wretched creature?”
“O Sir! I wish you would permit me to rest on this branch while the sun is so hot”’said the
dragonfly softly.”I have been flying all morning, and l am so hot and tired that I can go no farther” she
added.
“Indeed!” exclaimed the monkey in a mocking tone. “We don’t alow any weak creature such as
you to stay under our shelter. Go away!” he said angrily, and taking a dry twig, he threw it at the poor
creature.
The dragonfly, being very quick, had flown away before the cruel monkey could hit her. She
hurried to her brother, the king of the dragonflies and told him what had happened. The king became very
angry and resolved to make war on the monkeys. So he dispatched three dragonfly soldiers to the king of
the monkeys with his challenge:

Dragonfly: “Sir, as one of your subjects has treated my sister so cruelly, I am resolved to kill you
and your subjects without further ado” the Monkey King laughed at the challenge. He said to the
messengers, “Let your king and his soldiers come to the battlefield and they will see how well my troops
fight”
“You do not mean what you say, cruel king, answered the dragonflies. “You should not judge
before the fight is over:
“What fools! What fools!” exclaimed the king of monkeys. “Go to your ruler and tell him my
answer!” And he drove the little creatures away.
When the king of dragonflies received the reply, he immediately ordered his soldiers to go to the
battlefield, but without anything to fight with. Meanwhile, the monkeys came, each armed with a heavy
stick. Then the Monkey King shouted,”strike the filying creatures with your clubs!”When King Dragonfly
heard this order, he commanded nis solaiers to alignt on the forehead of their enemies. The monkeys
began to strike at the dragonflies, wno were on the forehead of their companions. The Dragonflies were
very quick, and were not hurt at all but the monkeys were all killed. Thus the light Guick-witted
dragonflies won the victory over the strong but foolish monkeys.
Early Harvest
Bienvenido N. Santos

Bienvenido N. Santos is a short story writer, novelist poet, and teacher. His stories are collected
in YouLovely People Brother, MyBrother The Day the Dancers Came, which includes the title story that
won first prize in the Philippines Free Press story contest in 1960 and second in the Palanca in 1961;
Scent of Apples and Other Stories; and Dwellin the Wilderness. He has two books of poems, two
autobiographical writings, and five novels including the National Book Award winning the Praying Man
(1973 and What the Hell for You Left Your heart in San Francisco (1987). He was conferred the title
Doctor of Humane Letters honoris causa by the University of the Philippines, De La Salle University, and
the University of Nueva Caceres. He received the S.EA Write Award in 1987 and was DeLa Salle
University’s artist-in- Residence in 1986.In his honor, DLSUinaugurated the BienvenidoN. Santos
Creative Writing and Research Center and put up the Bienvenido N. Santos Distinguished Professorial
Chair for Creative Writing in 1992.

(1) The Japanese soldiers were noisy when they came to our little barrio. Their laughter and their talk
resounded through the Sinicaran Hills, which lie at the foot of Mount Mayon. Below is the town
of San Juan where we bought all the pretty things that could be had for money. The Japanese had
taken the town and there was no more shooting in the streets, no more pretty things to buy. The
red earth over the graves of our dead was still fresh and wet in the December rains. We had kept
to our homes when we heard that they were coming. We peeped through our windows and
watched them come, expecting the worst. Ihey were loud and bared their teeth in something that
resembled smiles, and we were filled with fear. We had nowhere to go. Some of the people from
the town had gone to the hills.
(2) Y Tather’s nipa house stood at the branching of the trails, squat and low and sturdy. Up that trail
the soldiers marched, having alighted froma Graham car now parked in front of the spot where the chapel
used to be until last month whena typhoon leveled it to the ground and the bell fell from the celing but did
not break. Work had started on it when the Japs came. Many people were afraid, and we heard all sorts of
news.
(3) The trail led farther inland beyond the waterless creek where the barrio schoolhouse stood. On
both sides of the muddy trail are fields now planted to com, hemmed on all sides by coconut trees. In our
backyard are kilns for drying copra and heaps of firewood from the forests of Lafonte. My elder brother
Cario knew that forest by heart. I had helped him gather firewood and he was not afraid of the dark.
(4) “Selmo’he would say, “you have a chicken heart and the memory of a turte
(5) Iwondered where he was, my strong, big brother, as l watched the enemy soldiers go under the
sheds which stretchėd on a long line to the west backyard. These were empty sheds now, but formerly on
Mondays, which was market day, they were full of products from the town, all the lovely things that
money could buy: many colored print cotton for dresses and sKis, tnreads of all colors, dried fish and rice
cakes, toys and black magic. The vendors shouted their wares and demonstrated the use of medicines and
oils, and the whole place hummed with noise, and everybody liked it, and when folks showed their teeth
in smiles, everybody else did the same and nobody was afraid.
(6) The Japanese soldiers stood under the empty sheds, smoking at ease and talking loudly. Some of
them pointed at the smoke coming from the crater of Mount Mayon in the distance. Others were
cleaning off the mud from their boots with bayonets.
(7)Father stood at the door, his white hair shining in the sun. Mother knelt before the image of Santa
Rosa in the altar room in our house, surrounded by the maid and my little sisters and Cario’s young wife,
big with child. They were married during the feast of San Juan a year ago in November. I stood at my
father’s side at the doorway, watching the sun on his hair and his lips that moved but said nothing. And I
was thinking of my brother Cario, who knew the forests of lafonte by heart. I didn’t know where he was,
and Father and Mother had been very sad about him.
(8) One Japanese soldier with a long sword at his side walked toward my Father and spoke to him in
the dialect. I opened my mouth in amazement. As he talked he looked very much like the Japanese we
knew who sold bicycles in the capital of the province where Father often took us to see the movies.
(9) The man was smiling and saying how quiet it was in the town of San Juan, and how nice the
afternoon was, and how victorious the Japanese army. “We are friends he said, but Father, ordinarily
quick to smile and respond with a kind word, looked stern and said nothing.
(10) Then the Jap talked some more about living closer under the benevolent influence of the
emperor. He looked around him, standing beside Father-Father never looked taller-and he said, “You
know, I have been here before”
(11) “Yes, I know”’ Father answered.
(12) “You still got those unbeatable roosters of yours?”he asked.
(13) Then the Japanese looked toward the cornfeld and waved his stubby arm as if to encompass
everything around: “You don’t plant corn all year around, do you?”
(14) “You have been here before’ Father answered.
(15) “I know’the Japanese said, “you plant rice. When do you start planting?”
(16) “After a while” said Father.
(17) “Where does the barrio lieutenant live?”
(18)Ne”Beyond the creek
(19) “Near the schoolhouse?”
(20) “Not far from there.
(21) “He has been told we were coming”
(22) know” Father answered.
(23) “Goodbye, said the Japanese soldier, smiling still.”We are coming back”
 (24) Then he marched his soldiers toward the creek where lay the barrio farther inland. The dogs
barked at the sound of the marching feet. Soon the sound of both dogs and men was hardly audible.
Father walked in the sun and stood among the cornfields, through the ears of corn, and I went along and
watched him.
(25) “When do we gather them, Father?”I asked.
(26) “Before Christmas maybe, Son,” he replied, his voice so soft and kind I wanted to cry.
(27) Before dusk the Japanese soldiers came back, the dogs barking after them. One soldier held
crumpled in his hand the American flag which they had hauled off the bamboo pole in front of the
schoolhouse. Another soldier in the rear carried on his left shoulder a short Christmas tree around which
dangled tinsel and silver stars.

(28) 1 remembered how every year before the Christmas vacation, our teacher in the barrio school
made us go to the peak of the Sinicaran Hills for the agoho trees that looked like pine trees. We used
empty gasoline cans for the base and placed stones and rocks in the can to keep the trees steady. We
decorated the trees with tinsel and stars. We wrapped little gifts and sang Christmas songs all week.When
we sang Joy to the Woild, Miss Nasol put her fingers on her lips and stopped us saying,”You don’t have
to shout”It was fun. We exchanged gifts and ate ice cream and cookies on the last day of school.
(29) We had been looking forward to all this when the enemy came. There was shooting in the
townand men came hurrying in the night with frightful stories that made the men bite their lips and the
women murmur their prayers faster and louder and in tears. Then my brother disappeared like most of the
young men in the village. A great sadness was everywhere. As the Japanese soldiers piled into the truck
waiting near the chapel, the soldier with the sword waved the little Christmas tree at the people who had
come out of their houses to watch them go. He waved it at us and the silver stars fell as he shouted in
English, “Merry Christmas”
(30) A few days before Christmas we gathered the corn from the fields. The days were cold in spite of
the sunshine that flooded the hills. And at night it rained briefly and after a while the moon shone. There
were many tiny moons on the wet green Ieaves in the meadows, among the ungathered cornstalks.
(31) Father did not want brother Carios wife to work, but she insisted. She had grown pale and her
eyes were always red from weeping. Brother Cario had not returned. Every time a strange man came to
our door, she would rush to meet him nervously, hoping there was word about Cario and fearing the man
carried bad news.
(32) “Nena Father told her, you don’t have to work. Stay home and see that the maid does not bur the
rice”

33) But my brother’s wife preferred to stay in the fields. Father cut the ripened cornstalks; it was
better, he said, than burning it later, and we gathered the ears and piled them in heaps. In the evening I
was going to haul them in a cart to store in the bin south of the bathhouse.
 (34) At midday when the sun shone directly above us, I told Nena, “Look, we have no more
shadows” she smiled wanly, And then the maid shouted from the dooway of our house, “Come and eat”’
Her voice filled the ills and I ran toward home, watching the little formless shadow right beneath my feet.
(35) AndI heard Father say, “When it comes to eating, Selmo is always first”
(36) In the afternoon, Nena did not stay home either. Her shadow looked very big and she was very
quiet. There was still much to do. Even the maid joined us. Evening was coming on. Mount Mayon
looked blue and mysterious in the distance, a thin smoke from its crater curled like a ribbon and lost itself
among the clouds.
(37) Then came the sound of airplanes. They swooped low, skimming the treetops, t the red rising sun
on their wings visible in the afternoon light. Their shadows darkened the fields ornstalks as they with flew
vio above us. After a while Father bent down once more and started cutting the cornstalks with gorous,
angry strokes. Nena had to run to the nearest coconut tree, very pale and trembling as she stood in the
shade.

(38) Let me take you home said Mother as she went to her and held her hand.
(39) Let the carabao now and the cart” Father said to me, “and don’t stand there like an idiot” I was
still looking at the planes that had circled around the volcano, the drone of their machines fading in the
distance.
(40) When I came back with the carabao-driven cart. The sun had almost disappeared behind the
sinicaran Hills. And evening closed in completely on my way to the bin south of the bathhouse.
(41) That night we gathered around the doorway under the shed in front of the house and waited for
the corn roasting in the fire. The smell filled the house and made your mouth water-if you like roasted
corn. And we did.
(42) The entire ear is thrown into the fire, husked and all. It is a low fire mostly glowing embers. The
husk is burned black and cooks the grain just right.I always looked forward for nights such as this after a
heavy day, the corn hot in the hand and the tiny grain particles sticking between theTeeth, and the men
telling storiesI did not quite understand.
(43) “But what happened to the Americans?” asked Ambo, one of the listeners, his face red and
wrinkled in the lamplight.
(44) “The papers from Manila say the Japanese are winning everywhere, and the Germans stand on
russian soil” said another man whose facel could not see. But he was an old man. Everybody was old.The
young men were gone. Only the boys and the women were here and the old men whose sons had not
come back.
(45) “1 don’t believe anything”’ said Father, speaking for the first time.
(46) Laterthat night, after all men had gone, we went into the house to go to bed. Father blew out the
lamp on the table, and suddenly, to my eyes, it was brighter outside on the hills. The lighted wick half-
buried in oil in a deep shell at the foot of the image of Santa Rosa gave out a faint glow, and from where I
lay, I could see the painted flowers at the feet of the saint.
 (47) The glowing embers on the stove sizzled and died às Nena sprinkled water to extinguish the fire
then she went over to the open window and sat there, her head in her hands against the window sill.
(48) “Come to bed, Nena, Mother called. “What are you doing there?”
(49) But my brother Cario’s wife sat there saying not a word. She sat there for a long time. I felt so
heavy inside me; I could not sleep. I shouldn’t have eaten so much of that corn. In a few days it would be
Christmas, but there were no more pretty things in town, and the schoolhouse beyond the waterless creek
was closed and there was not much fun anymore. People looked very sad and quiet. Their eyes were sharp
and no longer full of mischief and laughter. Father, who had always been gay and who used to sing at
night was tight-lipped and unsmiling. Sinc very sad cario had gone, no one had touched the guitar on the
wall. Mother prated most of the time, ever since the fighting in the town began and Japanese soldiers kept
coming and going all the time. Nena was always looking out toward the trail that curved down the hill
and disappeared in the forests.

(50) Look, said Nena suddenly, her voice shrill and excited, “men are coming up the hill from in the
forests of Lafonte.I can see a torchlight coming up this way through the trees.”
(51) Father went to the door quickly, and true enough, there was torchlight coming up this way. And
the dogs had started barking.
(52) “1 shall light the lamp”’ said Mother. “Give me a match” s way. And
(53) Don’tbe crazy” Father replied. “How do you know they aren’t Japs?”
(54) “Must be Cario and the boys, Nena cried aś she brushed against us crowding the doorway,
wanting to go out and meet them. But Father held her back. “Cario will not come by torchlight he said.
(55) We could see the group now. They were not the enemy. Some men and a child. And soon we
knew who they were. There was a girl. We knew Marta and her little brother Bundio. The man who held
the torch was their father, Tiong Matias. Then another man, tall and thin. They stood directly in front of
our house and greeted us loudly.
(56) Father gave Mother a match and lighted the lamp. Tiong Matias blew out the torch he was
holding. Father asked them in.
(57) In the days before the big shooting in the town and the bombing of the capital of the province
Tiong Matias and his children came frequéntly to our house. On market days Marta took one of the stalls
in the backyard and sold cakes while Bundio and I roamed around aimlessly. Tiong Matias managed
Father’s roosters, arranged bets, and tied the spurs around the rooster’s legs
(58) “Tiong Matias brings me good luck” Father would say. This was not always true, because he
sometimes lost, and Mother would tell him, “Tiong Matias certainly brings you good luck.” And Tiong
Matias would laugh and pretty soon the three of them would be laughing.
(59) But that was long ago, and these days our people seldom laugh. Only the maid, she was always
giggling. Anyway, I think she was crazy.
 (60) Tonight, for instance, she kept staring at the stranger who stood tall and lean near the doorway.
the maid bent down to me and whispered, “He’s a red man”

(61) The red man had not yet spoken, but he smiled at us warmly. Tiong Matias introduced him.
“This is Father Julian. He was a parish priest of Catmon before the Japanese took over the town
(62) “Oh cried the maid and looked as if she would faint. I wanted to tell her, “Now you are forever
doomed, for you have made fun of a priest” But she looked miserable enough.
(63) “God bless you all” Father Julian intoned in the dialect, waving his hand at us in blessing.
(64) The women came to him and kissed his hand. The maid was trembling as she approached him.
She didn’t giggle very much any more after that.
(65) When the Japanese took over Catmon, Father Julian said he left for the hills. He knew the dialect
well, having been in this region long beforel was born.

(66) “But there are still priests in the town Father said.
(67) “Spanish priests, mostly” replied Father Julian, “but me, I’m an American”
(68) “The Japanese fight Americans; said Tiong Matias, as if we did not know.
(69) “The Japanese come here quite often,’Mother warned the priest.
(70) “I know’ he answered. “But they don’t know I’m here, and I can always hide, can’t 1? They
learned I was in Lafonte, so it became dangerous for me to stay there longer. Tiong Matias comes to me
and says, I shall take you to Bariw. I know a good man there:” And he looked at my father.
(71) “You must be hungry” Mother said. “We have a can full of boiled corn.
(72) They were hungry. They gathered around the big table and talked as they ate. As I watched
Bundio’s teeth sink into the grain, I wanted to eat also and my mouth watered. But Istill felt heavy inside
me. So l looked away.
(73) Marta was not smiling; she was sad and didn’t seem hungry at all like Bundio. She was much
younger than Nena, but they looked like twins in their grief. Father Julian wanted to know whether there
was a chapel in the barrio.
(74) “The November storm destroyed it Father said. “We were beginning to repair it when the trouble
started”
(75) Soon there were many people in the house, and Mother passed around the basins full of boiled
corn, and the people ate and listened to the priest. Their voices were low as they talked.
(76) “The boys are all right, but they need food and medicines,” Father Julian was saying
(77) Before I fell asleep that night, I saw Father Julian cross himself as he knelt before tne image of
Santa Rosa.
 (78) In the morning when I woke up, Father Julian was saying mass in front of the image or Santa
Rosa. The house was full of people, kneeling on the floor. It was like a real mass, except that there was no
bell ringing and no choir singing. The sunshine lay on the green hills outside and wondered if there was
still corn left after last night.

(79)Several children were baptized that day. Everybody moved here and there, and except or tne
people who didn’t smile and laugh, it really seemed like Christmas. Sick old persons went to confession
in the evening, Father Julian sat on a stool in the farthest corner of the room and placed his head in his
hand as the patient knelt at his feet, his head near the coniessors lap.
(80) Father Julian went to the houses of the sick who could not move from their mats and shrived
them. Farmers fed their carabaos near the edge of the trail overlooking the town and lingered, keeping
watch. Every time they saw a car coming, they ran toward the houses and told the men.

(81) There was a long drought the following summer, and we feared the December harvest would be
poor. Men had nothing to do but sit in the shade of their crumbling houses, watching the heat simmering
in the air and the dust thick and blinding in the wake of trucks, often loaded with Japanese soldiers
patrolling the neighboring hills. Often, in the afternoon, clouds would suddenly, darken the skies and
great gusts of wind would sweep over the parched land. The armers would put out their hands for drops of
rain. Some would exclaim, “1t’s raining, but it was not true. Actually there would be a few drops and
hopes would rise again in our hearts, and we would thank God deeply. But it was only a few drops,
nothing more.
(82) When llet the carabao graze on the grassy slopes, I stayed long under the tamarind tree where it
was cooler. The back of the carabao was hot; even the grass seemed dry and less green. It was terrible,
indeed, especially in August. We could not sleep at night. In the daytime, the heat of the sun was like a
slap in the face. The wells in the hills had dried. Spring water trickled weakly through rocks. Babies died
in their mother’s arms.
(83) That August my brother Cario came, looking very ill. He had a mass of long hair and a black
beard and ragged clothes. At his side he wore a sheathed bolo.
(84) He came in the night and asked for water, and we let him in. He stood in the darkness looking at
his child. His wife Nena had given him a son and now he was seeing the boy for the first time. Nena
stretched out her thin hand to him, and he bent down and held it hard. Nena sobbed, “How long is this
going to last?”
(85) Our son’ said Father and Mother, “is truly a leader of men”
(86) “But what will come out of this?” my Mother asked.
(87) “Cario’ cried Nena, “Cario… Cario… she kept repeating, and my brother was telling her many
things I could not hear. Sweat stood on his dark brow and only his eyes looked like my brothers, the
brother I knew.
 (88) “Killing and dying… blood, blood..” my Mother was saying. And Cario turned to her, still
holding his wife’s hand.
(89) “But, Mother” he said, “we must fight on, it is the only way. Everything will be all right, just
keep praying for us”
(90) As he talked, his eyes, very bright in the half of darkness, moved around the room and rested on
the image of Santa Rosa, the painted roses at her feet, visible in the light of the burning wick.
(91) “God forgive us all” Mother said, crying, “this bloodshed and killing.”
(92) “Mother said my brother in a voice that was tull of kindness, “these are not men; they are beasts
in men’s clothes. They do not only kill, they torture, ripping one by one the fingers of their victims. They
stab them in the back with bamboo sticks, or tickle them to death with wire, or beat their bodies until
nothing is left but pulp. Ihey have taken some of the women in the capital, and those who would deny
they hung upside down and burned with gasoline” n the capital, and bodies until nothing is left but pulp.
They have taken some of the women in the capital, and those who would deny they hung upside down
and burned with gasoline.”

(93) “But suppose something happened to you, Cario” Nena said.

(94) “Keep praying,’ Cario said, “I shall always keep in touch with you. Father Julian tells me
everything. Where is he tonight?”
(95) “At Celo’s house, attending to Cardo, Celo’s only son. His stomach is bloated and he is thin all
over”
(96) “Father Julian isa brave man, he knows much. He tells us the Americans are coming baCK
(97) “They have been away long, son,’ Father said.
(98) As quickly as he had come, brother Cario disappeared. He had told me nothing much. He did not
even hold my hand and I wanted him to, to feel his strength-my brother who was a leader of men. The
only time he noticed me was when Mother asked me to say good night and go to bed. “How’s Selmo/ he
asked, “The future governor of Albay, with the memory of a turtle? Lucky boy, you don’t understand
anything
(99) “Good night”I said, feeling a little hurt and sleepy.
(100) And the rains came after. They came sudden and strong, and the hillsides seemed green and
fresh again, the bakèd earth, pools of muds, and the fields ready for the seed.
(101) ran around, cupping the rain in my hands, and letting it spill over. Some of the boys lay on
fallen logs by the wayside and closed their eyes as the rains fell.
(102) Father was not smiling, but his voice was kind, and the lazy maid was giggling again.
(103) “Thank God” said Mother.
 (104) Nena was up. She held the little bundle in her hands and let it face the open window, and she
said, pointing outside, “Look, Nonoy, how it rains”
(105) The rice blades responded quickly to the rain, and in a few days they were green, and upright
and full of promise, and the men who gathered about the house talked about harvest.
(106) “God still remembers us’ Mang Celo said. His boy Cardo’s bloated stomach was better now,
but he had to remain home while all the other boys ran and bathed in the rain.
(107) l seldom saw the American priest, and it was not often that he stayed at home for the night.
When he did, he spent much of the time in the room where the altar was, reading a Bible or Listening to
the peasants confess their sins. He did not dress like the priests l knew, and he did not look like them.
(108)”He looks like a Filipino now Mother said of the priest, for she was very fond of him.
(109)”God, give us a rich harvest” the peasant asked, “It’s all that would keep us alive”
(110) But in December, when the harvest was ready, it was poor. And then something happened.
Happened quite suddenly, like many things in those days. Suddenly, like tears, after news of death from
the forests of Lafonte. Like laughter in the eyes that quickly faded as news reached the village of
destruction by the enemy. NowI hated them, but it was more like fear. I knew it was because of them that
l could not be in school and read the books loved so much and sing the songs that were sweet to the ears
and lovely in my dreams. Often I dreamed of singing in my sleep, but as the days went on, I would wake
up screaming. Mother would come to me brushing ith her cool hand my hair soaked in sweat.
(111) “Hush, my son she would say. And Iwould cry on her breast, saying,”The Japs, they are
running after me. ”I hated them but it was more like fear. And then something happened.
(112) The Japanese soldiers came in trucks and took’ away the harvests. It lay there already gathered
and piled in stacks all over the fields. They piled the harvested grain into their trucks and drove away.
(113) “They have killed us. We are dead people now. We might just as well make dead men out of
them’ said men whose faces I could not see.in the dark.
(114) “Be patient, my sons, you shal be avenged”The voice sounded like the American priest’s.
(115) “But Father Julian..
(116) My father sat near the doorway and he was very fearful to behold.
(117) “Father Julian is right’ he said.”Let us be patient”
(118) And the priest put his arms around the shoulders of the men in the dark. They moved there and
talked like shadows. Behind them lay the green slopes of Mount Mayon and the nelds were bare, the
stubble pointing dark to the sky.
(119) Many things grew in the wild woods, fruit and vegetable and root crop, and we fed on these. he
helds lay bare many months in the sunshine and the rain, and green things shot up upward from the fertile
earth.
(120) “We shall not till the fields’the peasants said.
(121) The men sat in front of their houses and watched the rich green earth giving forth to men who
asked for nothing but peace and a chance to walk the earth without fear.
 (122) The American priest appeared now and then, disappearing when the Japanese came around. he
ate anything with us, and the people gave him everything they had, and they nad very little except what
the earth gave them, and the earth was kind to the people.
(123) On a Sunday morning in the rain, many peasants gathered at our hóuse, and the priest said mass
as usual and blessed us all. We felt light and happy with his blessings. There was sadness in the village
because Tiong Celo’s boy had died in the night, and the priest had come back to the village to say a
prayer over the child. This morning we felt glad again in his presence. Some of the farmers and their
families stood by the door waiting for him to go out. The house was full. They had bundles in their hands,
sweet potatoes perhaps or seed or just anything “for the kind man of God as they called him.

(124)From the altar in the middle of the mass, the priest spoke to us again in the dialect. “My
brethren” he said, and I remembered how the younger boys made fun of him, for he looked and sounded
so funny when he spoke in the dialect. “My brother” he repeated, “You are God’s auffering people. You
have not complained, and you have smiled in the face of disaster. It shall not always be this way. Once
more you will walk the earth with glad faces and music in your stride, and this green earth will be truly
yours, the green things growing, the fertile fields and the bountiful crops. Meanwhile you keep suffering
in silence. You have endured privation in your great faith for better things to come. It is coming. I have
lived among you; I am now one of you. Greater lovel have not seen elsewhere. In your great need you
have not forgotten, God, you had not turned your weary head away from the stranger, lost in your midst. I
have seen your part with the little you had and go hungry thereby, but you have shared with your
neighbor. Have walked among you, and wherever went, you gave me food to eat and you had little to eat
yourselves. You protect me from the enemy at the riskof your life, and you ask nothing in return.I wish I
were more worthy of such loyality, such love, but God in His kindness will reward you soon’
(125) Then he looked toward the window, pausing as ifto hold back tears. He looked so old and weak,
seemed to totter as he stood with his back toward the image of Santa Rosa. Then he pointed to the hills
outside. “Your fields are bare” he said, “but if you have seed, go forth and plant, and the harvests will be
yours” He spoke as if he were alone and talking to himself, as if his voice were God’s voice, and the
farmers looked at one another and wondered,
126) After the mass he walked out of the house, and the peasants whose children he had baotized
walked beside him offering their gifts of tood which was all they had.
(127) Then he walked down the trail to say a prayer over the body of Cardo, Tiong Celo’s boy. Cado
and I had a fight shortly before Christmas and we rolled down the waterless creek and both of us went
home crying.
 (128) Once or twice I saw brother Cario back in the house, holding his son in his arms and looking at
him in the dim light. He was shabby and ragged, there were cruel lines in his face even when he emiled.
And I was afraid of him-my brother who was called the leader of men. He came in the night and
disappeared in the night. The next day Nena would stand at the window looking at the trait leading to the
forests of Lafonte.
(129) “Lafonte is the graveyard of the Japs, my brother Cario said one night, and the women trembled
to hear him say that.
(130)When he saw the fields bare because the farmers refused to plant anything, he said, “Tt will not
be long now, there will be waving grain everywhere in our country
(131)And the farmers went forth and sowed the fields. In a few months rice stalks waved in the sun
and received the rain in the splendor of green and yellow ripeness. The harvest would be unusually rich,
anyone could tell from the bush growth and the tall, heavy blades burdeneo with grain. The Japanese
came frequently and watched the hills turn into green and waited for the fullness of harvest time. They
smiled as they walked among the quiet men of the village saying, “We are so happy, you have realized
the Emperor’s will.” But the men said nothing and watched for the first sign of golden grain in the rice
paddies.
(132)And then my Father spoke, “In three days we shall begin to harvest. Wednesday is harvest day.
(133)Yes said the peasants, “Wednesday is harvest day. There will be song and there will be feasting”
(134) The Japanese who heard them talk remembered it and promised to be on hand for the feasting
and music.
(135) “Love your music” the Japanese soldiers told us, “It is something like Japanese music, so sad,it
moves the heart”Then they left, promising to return on Wednesday.
(136) Much of what happened that night has never been clear to me. There was a full moon I sky.
Mother and the women knelt in front of the image of Santa Rosa and prayed long. Then figures moved
about, and faces appeared here and there in the moonlight. Under the moon in the yellowing fields men
and women were harvesting the grain. All your boys who disappeared in the forests of Lafonte were back
harvesting the grain. All silently cutting the ripened blades, and the women were placing them in heaps,
and slow-moving carabaos carted them away in the night.
(137) It was like a dream, and we stood watching it all, little understanding what it was al about.
(138)The next day it rained and the farmers worked on. They ate together under the trees, and some
of the men stood on the roadside watching for trucks moving upfrom the town of San Juan down the hill.
(139) Everybody worked in the rain, and when the sun shone, as sometimes it did, the women came
out of their houses bringing water in earthen jars and food in little baskets.
(140)And the slow-moving carts went down the trails, bearing harvested grain. And the shadows
lengthened; darkness came upon the hills again, but everybody kept working, harvesting the grain, and
hiding it away.
(141) Before Wednesday much of the crops had been harvested, and now the men and women stood
tense and waited.
(142) “The Japanese will be angry, they will shoot us al” said a little man who was thin as a skeleton.
 (143)The younger men said, “Do not be afraid, we shall fight them here when they come as we have
fought them in the woods these many months”
(144) “God have mercy on us!”the women wailed.
(145) Iwas afraid too, and 1 wanted to cry. The fields were bare and ugly under the rain, and tragedy
hung over the hills; l could feel it in the stern faces of the peasants, in the unsmiling features of my
Father, and Cario and the boys who sald they were ready to die.
(146) The Japanese were expected the next day. It was a miracle they had not appeared earlier.
(147) But for many long years after, the people of these hills would be talking of a greater miracle.
Some would be saying that the American priest was a watching saint, for it was he who said that we must
keep praying to God, and God would answer our prayers. Everybody would be aaying that God was good
and had never forgotten us.
(148)Suddenly that night, before it was even time for supper, the skies grew dark and there were
distant rumblings. We all looked toward Mount Mayon. A few years before, the volcano had erupted
suddenly and Father had carried me on his back to a place higher than these hill, while rivers of flame
cascaded down the mountain and boulders of fire shot upward in the sky. A little town at its base was
partly buried. Under the houses in San Juan the sand had piled high, and there were cracks on the roads
and boiling water ran through them. AlI did was cry. Besides, I was sick that summer and everybody
thought I was going to die.
(149)That night I remembered it all and 1 grew pale, but no fire came out of the burning crater Could
It be shooting again? But the little town of San Juan was quiet. The skies over the capital city were dark
with low-hanging clouds.
(150) Then lightning flashed, the hills shook with thunderclaps, and the rain fell. T fell so hard that
parts of our nipa-thatched roof leaked. Soon the fields were flooded, and it rained on and on.
(151)The next day it was still raining. Even the trails leading from the town were flooded. A heavy
whiteness covered the hills.
(152)Now let them come. We shall say the floods have swept the grain away!” The voices of the
peasants were jubilant. The strong boys marched down the trail singing English songs, and their voices
disappeared in the rain over the forests of Lafonte.
(153)The women knelt weeping in the altar room. Father turned to me and smiled and, patting me on
the head, said softly, “Now go out in the rain, Selmo, and stay there as long as you want. Let’s god’s rain,
my son”
(154) God’s rain was cold and heavy and it was everywhere. Tungkung Langit and Alunsina (Panay-
Visayan Myth)
REGION VI
WESTERN VISAYAS

(1)One of the stories about the creation of the world, which the old people or Panay, especially
those iving near the mountains, do not tite relating, tells that in the beginning there was no sky edrtonly a
bottomless deep and a world of mist. Everything was shapeless and formless the earth, the sky, the sea,
and the air were almost mixed up. In a word, there was confusion.
 (2) Then from the depth of this formless void, there appeared two gods, Tungkung Langit (Pillar
of and Alunsina (The Unmarried One). Just where these two deities came irom, it was not known.
However, it was related that Tungkung Langit had fallen in love with Alunsina; and after so many years
of courtship, they got married and had their abode in the highest realm of the ethereal space, where the
water was constantly warm and the breeze was forever cool. It was in this place where order and
regularity first took place.
(3) Tungkung Langit was an industrious, loving, and kind god whose chief concern was how to
impose order over the whole confused set-up of things. He assumed responsibility for the regular cosmic
movement. On the other hand, Alunsina was a lazy, jealous, and selhsh goddess whose only work was to
sit by the window of their heavenly home and amuse herself with her pointless thoughts. Sometimes, she
would go down the house, sit down by a pool near their doorsteps, and comb her long, jetblack hair all
day long.
(4) One day, Tungkung Langit told his wife that he would be away from home for sometime to
put an end to the chaotic disturbances in the flow of time and in the position of things. However, despite
this purpose Alunsina sent the breeze to spy on Tungkung Langit. This made the latter very angry upon
knowing about it.
(5)Immediately after his return from his trip, he called this act to her attention, saying that it was
ungodly of her to be jealous, there being no other creature living in the world except the two of them.
This reproach was resented by Alunsina and a quarrel between them followed.

(6)Tungkung Langit lost his temper. In his rage, he divested his wife of powers and drove her
away. He did not know where Alunsina went; she merely disappeared.
(7)Several days after Alunsina had left, Tungkung Langit felt very lonely. He realized what he
had done. Somehow, it was too late even to be sorry about the whole matter. The whole place, once
vibrant with Alunsina’s sweet voice, suddenly became cold and desolate. In the morning when he woke
up, he would find himself alone; and in the afternoon when he came home, he would feel the same
loneliness creeping deep in his heart because there was no one to meet him at the doorstep or soothe the
aching muscles of his arms.
(8)For months, Tungkung Langit lived in utter desolation. He could not find Alunsina, try hard as
he would. And so, in desperation, he decided to do something in order to forget his sorrows. For months
and months he thought. His mind seemed pointless; his heart weary and sick. But he must do something
about his lonely world.
(9)One day, while he was sailing across the regions of the clouds, a thought came to him. He
would make the sea and the earth, and lo! The earth and the sea suddenly appeared. However, the somber
sight of the lonely sea and the barren land irritated him. So he came down to earth and planted the ground
with trees and flowers. Then he took his wife’s treasured jewels and scattered them in the sky, hoping that
when Alunsina would see them she might be induced to retum home. The goddess’ necklace became the
stars, her comb the moon, and her crown the sun. However, despite all these Alunsina did not come back.
(10)Up to this time, the old folks say Tungakung Langit lives alorne in his palace in the skies.
Sometimes, he would cry out his pent-up emotions and his tears would fall down upon the earth. The
people in Panay today say that rain is Tungkung Langit’s tears. Incidentally, when it thunders hard, the
old folks also say that it is Tungkung Langit sobbing, calling for his beloved Alunsina to come back
entreating her so hard that his voice reverberates across the fields and countryside

RIDDLES

Paktakon
(Ilonggo Riddles)

English Translation
Ang puno buko-boko The trunk is full of nodes
Dahon daw abaniko Leaves like fans,
Bunga daw parasko, Fruits like large wine bottles
Perdegones ang liso. Kapayas Pellets are the seeds. Papaya
May diotay nga kaban-kaban, There is a small chest
Naga-abri keg naga si man, That opens and closes by itself
Ang sulod puro tul-an The contents are all bones
Kon kaisa nagadunlan. – baba Sometimes it chokes. Mouth

PROVERBS
Hurobaton
(Hiligaynon Proverbs)

English Translation
Mauntay ang sanga nga linghod, A young sapling is easily
Ang gulang na, mautod. Straightened,

But an old branch is brittle.

Kon indi ikaw mag-antos, You can’t be a saint,
Indi ka gid magsantos. If you don’t sacrifice.

Ang obra indi makapatay, Work cant kill,

Pero ang pagkasubo amo ang But worrying does.
Makapatay.

FOLK SONGS

Ilonggo Folk Songs

Si Pilemon, Si Pilemon Dandansoy

1
Si Pilemon, si Pilemon Dandansoy, bayaan ta ikaw
Namasol sa karagatann . Pauli ako sa Payaw
Nakakuha, nakakuha Ugaling kon ikaw hidlawon,
Sang isdang tambasakan Ang Payaw imo lang
Guibaligya, guibaligya lantawon.
Sa merkado ng gubaa
Ang binta niya’y wala
Ang binta niya’y wala 2
Guibakal sang tuba. Dandansoy, kon imo apason
Bisan tubig di ka magbalon
Ugaling kon ikaw uhawon
Sa dalan magbubon-bubon.

POEM
Diplomat Listening to the Speech of Another Diplomat
Dominador I. lio

A native of Malinao, Aklan, Dominador.Ilio obtalned an Engineering degree from the University of the
Philippines and an MA degree in Hydraulics from 1lowa State University. He became interested in
writing poetry during his college days. He taught at the University of the Philippines and became head of
the Engineering Science Department and editor of the U.R Engineer and the U.P. Research Digest. Some
of his poetry is collected in the volume, The Diplomat.
They cannot go to the summer sea this year,
Where on the boardwalk, in no more than shorts
And bare feet, he can toss platitudes
Without much mind to the next fellow, perhaps,
Or to his nervous wife all ears beside him.
And watch the silly antics of the children,
Long unloved in the carefree stretch of sand,
Or, perhaps, with anonymous paunch and goggles,
Foolishly try to execute ahandstand
In wrist-deep water, and make it,
Though with much awkward kicking in air.
It will be fun there in the summer sea..
But with this, he cannot hint a word,
To the little woman. His hands are firmly chained
To bulky paperwelghts on hls polished desk
And his nights will be crammed with not merely silence.
It shall need greater diplomacy, though
To tell the children why they cannot go
Than answer back this shrill-volced speaker. O,
These talks shall drag on many lonig seasons yet.

EPIC

Hinilawod
(Panay Epic)

Hinilawod is the oldest and wel-knawn epic of Panay which belongs to the oral tradition of the
Sulod mountain people living near the headwaters of the rliver Jalaur (Halawod) aklan, and Antique. It is
sung in Kinaray-a, the language of the Sulod.This epic was recorded by Felipe Landa Jocano, an
anthropologist in Lambuna0, lloilo in 1964 It has two cycles: frst part deals with Donggon’s anmorous
exploits, the second part deals with the adventures of humadapnon wherein Baranugun plays the leading
role.
When the goddess of the eastern sky Alunsina (also known as Laun Sina, The Unmarried One)
reached maidenhood, the king of the gods, Kaptan, decreed that she should marry. All the unmarried gods
of the different domains of the universe tried to win her hand to no avail. She chose to marry a mortal,
Datu Paubari, the mighty ruler of Halawod.
Her decision angered her other suitors. They plotted to bring harm to the newlyweds. A
meetingof the council of gods was called by Maklium-sa-twan, god of the plains, where a decision by
those present was made to destroy Halawod by flood.
Alunsina and Paubari escaped harm through the assistance of Suklang Malayon, the goddess and
guardian of happy homes and sister of Alunsina, who learned of the evil plot and warned the two so they
were able to seek refuge on higher gróund.
After the floodwaters subsided, Paubari and Alunsina returned to the plains secretly. They settled
near the mouth of the Halawod River.
Several for months childhirth later Alunsina became pregnant and told Paubari the prepare the
siklot, things necessary for childbirth. She delivered a set of triples and summoned the high priest the
Bungot-Banwa to perform the rites of the goods of Mount Madya-as (the mountain abode of the gods) to
ensure the good health of the children. The high priest promptly made an altar and burned some
alanghiran Fromds and a pinch of kamangyan. When the ceremony was over he opened the windowo ne
north into stronh room and a cold northerly wind came in and suddenly the three intants were transformed
into strong, handsome young men.
Labaw Donggon, the eldest of the three, asked his mother to prepare his magic cape, hat, belt,
ampian (Sword) for he heard of a place called Handug where a beautiful maiden named Angoy ginbitinan
lived.
The journey took several days. He walked across plains and valleys, climbed up mountains until
he reached the mouth of the Halawod River. When he finally met the maiden’s rather and asked for her
hand in marriage, the father asked him to fight the monster Manalintad as part of his dowry He went oT to
confront the monster and with the help of his magic belt Labaw Donggon killed the monster and to prove
his feat he brought to Angoy Ginbitinan’s father the monsters tail.
After the wedding, Labaw Donggon proceeded home with his new.bride. Along the way they met
a group of young men who told him that they were on their way to Tarambang Burok to win the land of
Abyang Durunuun, sister of Sumpoy, the lord of the underworld and whose beauty was legendary.
Labaw Donggon and his bride continued on their journey home. The moment they arrived home
Labaw Donggon told his mother to take care of his wife because he is taking another quest, this time he
was going to Tarambang Burok.
Before he can get to the place he has to pass a ridge guarded by a giant named Sikay Padalogdog
who has a hundred arms. The giant would not allow Labaw Donggon to go through without a fight.
However, Sikay Padalogdog was no match to Labaw Donggon’s prowess and skill in fighting so he gave
up and allowed him to continue.
Labaw Donggon won the hand of Abyang Durunuun and also took her home. Before long he
went on another journey, this time it is to Gadlum to ask for the hand of Malitong Yawa, sinagmaling
diwata, who is the young bride of Saragnayan, the lord of darkness.
This trip required him to use his biday nga inagta (black boat) on which he sailed across the seas
for many months, went across the region of the clouds, and passed the land of stones until finally he
reached the shores of Tulogmatian which was the seaside fortress of Saragnayan. The moment he set foot
on the ground Saragnayan asked him, “Who are you and why are you here?”
To which he answered, “1 am Labaw Donggon, son of Datu Paubari and goddess Alunsina of
Halawod. I came for the beautiful Malitong Yawa, sinagmaling diwata
Saragnayan laughed. He told Labaw Donggon that what he wished for was impossible to grant
because she was his wife. Labaw Donggon then challenged Saragnayan to a duel saying that whoever
wins will have her.
The challenge was accepted and they started hghting. Labaw Donggon submerged Saragnayan
under water for seven years, but when he letgo or him, aragnayan was still alive. The latter uprooted
coconut tree and started beating Labaw Donggon with it. He survived the beating but was not able to
surpass the powers of Saragnayan’s pamiang (amulet) and eventually he gave up and was imprisoned by
Saragnayan beneath his house.
Back home Angoy Ginbitinan and Abyang Durunuun both delivered sons. Angoy Ginbitinans
child was named Aso Mangga and Abyang urunuuns Son was called Abyang Baranugon. only a tew days
after they were born, Aso Mangga and Abyang Baranugon embarked to look tor their father. They rode
their sailboats through the region of eternal darkness, passed the region of the clouds and the land of
stones, finally reaching Saragnayan’s home. Saragnayan noticed that Abyang Baranugons umbilical cord
had not yet been removed, he laughed and told the child to go home to his mother.
Abyang Baranugon was slighted by the remarks and immediately challenged Saragnayan to duel.
They fought and Abyang Baranugon defeated Saragnayan and won his father’s freedom.
Labaw Donggon’s defeat and subsequent imprisonment by the lord of darkness also angered his
brothers. Humadapnon was so enraged that he swore to the gods of Madya-as that he would wreak
revenge on all of saragnayan’s kinsmen and followers.
 Humadapnon prepared to goto Saragnayan’s domain. He employed the aid of Buyong Matanayon
of Mount Matiula who was well-known for his skill in swordsmanship. For their journey they rode on a
sailboat called biday nga rumba-rumba. They travelled through the region of the clouds, passed by the
region of eternal darkness, and ended up at a place called Tarambang Buriraw. In this place was a ridge
called Talagas Kuting-tang where a seductive sorceress named Piganun lived.
Piganun changed herself to a beautiful maiden and captured the. Heart of Humadapnon. Buyong
matanayon begged with Humadapnon to leave the place with him but the latter refused. After seven
months passed, Buyong Matanayon remembered that they have brought with them some ginger one
evening at dinnertime Buyong Matanayon threw seven slices of ginger into the fire. When iiganun
smelled the odor of burning ginger she left the dinner table because sorcerers hated the odor of ginger.
Immediately Buyong Matanayon struck Humadapnon, who became unconscious, He dragged his friend
with him and they were able to escape.
They continued with their trek and everywhere they went they exacted revenge on all of
Saragnayan’s people and relatives. One day they reached a place called Piniling Tubig which was ruled
by Datu Umbaw Pinaumbaw. There was a big gathering in the village and when they asked what was
going on they were told that the datu’ was giving his daughter for marriage to whoever could remove the
huge boulder that rolled from a mountain into the center of the village. Many men tried their luck but no
one so far was able to even move the stone.

Humadapnon took off his magic cape and used it to lift the stone and threw it back into the
mountain. The datu kept his word and Humadapnon married his daughter. During the wedding feast
Humadapnon heard about the beauty of the goddess of greed Burigadang Pada Sinaklang Bulawan from a
guest minstrel who sang at the celebration.
After the wedding Humadapnon went to seek the hand of the goddess in marriage. Along the way
he encountered Buyong Makabagting, son of the mighty Datu Balahidyong of Paling Bukid who was also
travelling with the same purpose in mind Upon learning of Humadapnon’s intent, Buyong Makabagting
challenged him to a duel. They fought and Buyong Makabagting was no match to Humadapnon’s strength
and skill. The fñght ended when Buyong Makabagting surrendered and even promised to aid
Humadapnon in his quest. Humadapnon married the goddess and brought her home.
Meanwhile, right after Humadapnon left to seek saragnayan’s followers and relatives his brother
Dumalapdap left for Burutlakan-ka-adlaw where the maiden Lubay-Lubyok Hanginun si
Mahuyokhuyokon lived. For the trip he brought along Dumasig, the most powerful wrestler in Madya-as.
Several months later they came to a place called Tarambuan-ka-banwa where they encountered
the two-headed monster Balanakon who guarded a narrow ridge leading to the place where the maiden
lived.
With the aid of Dumasig, Dumalapdap killed Balanakon. However, upon approaching the gate of
the palace where the maiden lived he was confronted by Uyutang, a bat-Like monster with osonous
claws. There ensued a bloody battle between Dumalapdap and the monster. They fought tor seven months
and their skill and prowess seemed to be equal. But on the seventh month, Dumalapdap was able to grab
on to Uyutang’s ankle and broke it. Then he took his ang daniwan (magic dagger) and stabbed Uyutang
under the armpit. Uyutang cried out so loud that the ridge where they were fighting broke into two and
there was an earthquake. Half of the ridge became the island of Buglas (Negros) and the other became the
island of Panay.
Dumalapdap married Lubay-Lubyok Hanginun si Mahuyokhuyokan and then took her home.
Datu Paubari was very happy when he was reunited with his three sons and he prepared a feast in their
honor. After the celebration, the three brothers left for different parts of the world. Labaw Donggon went
to the north, Humadapnon went south, Dumalapdap to the west, and Datu Paubari remained in the east.
FOLK TALE
The Fall of Polobulac
John Maurice Miller

This is a tale from Panay. It probably originated with the Spanish fathers, who wished to impress the
doctrine of the Seven Deadly Sins on the natives. 1he islands are just off lolo.
A little way from lloilo there once was a beautiful island called Polobulac or Isle of Flowers. Its
shores were covered with beautiful trees and plants; splendid gardens of flowers were found everywhere;
fruits grew in abundance; fountains sparkled in the sunlight; and the people were the happiest in the
world.
Filled with confidence in their good fortune, and proud of their beautiful island, they began t
slight the people of the neighboring islands, and to treat them with insolence and scorn.
One night the sky was darkened, the lightning flashed, the rain fell in torrents, and a voice cried
from the clouds, above the roar of the thunder

“I am Pride. Avoid me or perish”

Terrified, they prayed to God for protection, but with the morning sun their fears left them and
they continued as before.
Days passed and the people grew richer, but not satisfied with theír wealth and with their own
beautiful island, they longed to possess the lands of their neighbors.
Again came the storm, and again a voice cried from the heavens:
“I am Covetousness. Come to me and die”
Once more they appealed for protection, but they did not change their ways. Weeks went by, and
with wealth came low and base desires.The storm came as before and brought the warning:
“I am Evil Desire. Fly from me or be lost”
But again it sounded to sealed ears. Months rolled on. The people quarreled with their neighbors,
and sent forth an army to make war upon them. The voice thundered:
“I Am Ange. I give eternal torment”
Years followed, and the tables of the people of Polobulac were loaded with the finest foods and
wines. Day and night found them feasting. The cry sounded above them:
“I Am Gluttony. I devour my children,
 The winds alone echoed the warning.
Time flew by. Each man sought to outdo the others in display of luxury and magnificence. The
poor grudged the rich their fortunes, and sought in every way to injure them. Again a voice came through
the darkness:
“I Am Envy. My people are condemned”
But they closed their ears and would not hear.
More wealth brought greater luxury. They lolled in idleness. They idled in the midst of
magnificence. The voice warned:
“I Am Sloth. I bring final warning”
They were used to the voices now, and gave them not the slightest heed. Their insolence and
greed grew greater. The fair island shook with dissension and strife
One day the sun was hidden by blacknesS. A fearful tempest burst over the land. The pepple the
other islands saw Polobulac wrapped in seven huge pillars of flame.
When the sky cleared, Polobulac was nowhere to be seen. In its place, seven blackened rocks
marked the spot where stood the beautiful isle.
They are there to this day. You can see them as you leavethe harborfor southern ports. Sometimes
they appear as one. Again they seem to group in twos and threes. But there are seven.
They are called the Deadly Sins.