Pinkie

                                                                                                    

I never got to find out why the hand's small finger is called "pinkie". I first heard it when my daughter who was then in nursery sang a song taught in school. It goes something like "Where is pinkie? Where is pinkie? Here I am. Here I am...How are you this morning, how are you this morning..."

        Filipino traditional healers ask the patient to position pinkies of both hands side by side.  If one is longer than the other, then it is positive that the patient is being influenced or possessed by an elemental. Prayers or oracion are recited to free the patient from such influence.

         One day we had a visitor who came with her six year old son.
I thought there was something different about the little boy but I could not pinpoint what it was. There was something in his eyes... I followed my intuition and sat beside him. "Let me take a look at your hands", I said. I put the two pinkies together and saw that one is longer than the other by about one-fourth inch.  His mother and her friend looked at each other with questions in their eyes. I felt I had to do something, so I prayed for protection for everyone, and asked that the child be freed from whatever entity it was in the Name of Jesus Christ. I felt it was a playful elemental that was influencing the boy. After a minute or two, I compared the two pinkies. We were all amazed that the said fingers were already of the same length.

          The same thing happened to a graduate student who was near middle-age. I don't remember what he and  his classmates told me that made me go nearer. I requested him to put his two pinkies side by side.  Everyone in the room saw that one was longer than the other, so I asked him if he would allow me to pray over him. He is a pastor, but he agreed. After the short prayers, the length of his two fingers became the same.

         Don't ask me why pinkies are indicators of some "intrusion". I never got to ask  my friends who are traditional healers. Sometimes, if you are perceptive enough, you'll see something different with the eyes of the person.

Lambanog and Milk

A great number of development researches in the 1970s and 1980s were on agriculture and

family planning. I was involved in the project which sought to find out the knowlege, attitudes and practices of residents in selected provinces nationwide regarding family planning. 

             One of my respondents in Laguna turned out to be a woman in her mid-thirties who looked at least ten years older. She was washing clothes near their artesian well when I went to her house.

            “E… Iba na lang. Kita mo naman, naglalaba ako”, (Interview somebody else. As you can see, I’m washing clothes),  she told me when I told her about the purpose of my visit.

            I don’t know why I did give after her refusal. I took a chance. I told her that she could go on with her laundry and we could talk. That way, I would not be disrupting her work. She agreed.

            I sat on a low wooden stool but did not go to the main interview right away. I commented on the volume of clothes she was washing.

            “Anim kasi ang anak ko” (It’s because I have 6 children), she said.

            I didn’t see any children around so I asked her where they were. She said they were in school except for the two youngest.

          “Sa katunayan, nilalagyan ko ng lambanog ang gatas nila pag marami akong gawain.” (In fact, I put lambanog  in their milk if I have lots of work to do). This means that she makes them drunk so they would sleep and be out of the way of her household chores! She told me that her neigbors did the same. 

            As I walked away after the interview, I felt depressed because  children are made potential alcoholics at a very early age and because the mothers like my interviewee knew no better. They are victims of poverty.

Coffee Overdose

Barangay Sta. Lucia, Dolores, Quezon sits at the foot of Mt. Banahaw, which is believed to be a mystical mountain. There are over 100 religious sects and cults in the whole mountain complex. What makes it also interesting is the history and culture of the place.   Among others, it was where Macario Sakay and other Southern Tagalog revolutionaries  fled when they were being pursued by the Spaniards during Spanish colonization.

            Having been going there regularly for over the years, both for academic  and personal pursuits, I was familiar with the culture of the place  My friends Boy and Maria Montelibano, Boy and Merle Fajardo and Suprema Isabel Suarez (of Ciudad Mistica) accommodated my students in their houses.

.           I brought one of my undergraduate  research classes to Sta. Lucia to experience data gathering in a place so different from urban and rural areas. My class did preliminary research on the history and culture of the area and I drilled them on interviewing techniques and discussed the communicative behavior of the residents before we set for Sta. Lucia.

            The students were divided into small groups during the planning stage and all they had to do was implement their sampling technique and do interviews. While they were gone, I made brief visits to some people I came to know well.  News travel fast and I would be considered a snob if I did not show myself if only to announce personally that indeed, I had arrived with my students. They were not long visits. They were just to say “hello” and ask how’s life with them since we last met (Kumusta na?)

            It was mid-afternoon and the groups came back to the Montelibanos’ as instructed. They were in high spirits even if tired.

            “Ma’am”,  one student said in a loud voice. “Nanginginig na  ho kami!” (We are trembling).

             “Bakit? (Why?), I asked, concerned that something happened  to scare them.

            “Kasi po,sa lahat halos ng pinuntahan namin, pinainom kami ng kapeng barako!” (Because we were served barako [Batangas] coffee in every house we went to). "We have an

overdose of strong coffee!".

            

Full Moon in Marawi

Vic  went with me on  my research about traditional healing in Lanao del Sur to have a reunion with another classmate, Marianita  of Mindanao State University in Marawi City. Marianita made arrangements for us to stay at the executive guest house on campus, very near the mosque.  With us was my son  whoI wanted  exposed to Maranao architecture and art. The big two-story house had several bedrooms, and spacious living and dining rooms.

            It was full moon when we were there and from the garden,  we could see Lanao Lake. The campus had rolling terrain and it was simply beautiful.

           After dinner, I suggested a walk to Vic and my son, but as we were going out the gate, the guard asked us where we were going. I got irritated and answered him that we were just going for a walk. I thought he was being intrusive. He practically begged us not to go, at first reluctant to tell us why. Then he told us that there were “incidents” on campus that week and he was only concerned about our safety. Upon hearing that, we needed no further convincing. We decided to sit in the garden instead and chat with the guard whose armalite lay comfortably on his lap.        

Ka Berting: The Healer from Cardona, Rizal

He looks like any ordinary middle-aged man one sees while passing a provincial road, perhaps cradling a cock, sitting in front of a variety store or waiting for a ride.  He is dark, his face’s character accentuated by lines wrought by time and experience.  His hair, though close-cropped, give a hint that it is wavy.  On his neck hangs several pendants, some made of wood, some metal.

            As he warms up to the interview, the storyteller emerges and casts a spell on his listeners.  His rich voice reminds one of the days when serenading a woman with kundiman was still practiced.  His Cardona accent adds to the flavor of his exposition.  He needs very little prodding.  Then he opens the doors to another kind of understanding and perspective.  And on top of that, he has a good sense of humor.

            Born in 1939 in Barrio Malabon, Biñan, Laguna, Ka Berting claims to come from a family who believes in and is known for anting-anting; in his words, mahilig.  He reached grade 3, married at 17 and started learning how to heal at 18.  He and his wife settled in Kuhala, Caronda, Rizal, where they raised a large family.  “Ang  buhay, wawalo, pero sila sa tao, 14 yata,” was his way of saying they had 14 children but only eight are living.

            The family’s concrete bungalow sits on a spacious lot on the shares of Laguna Bay.  The house, the says proudly, was built through the help of his daughter who now resides in Japan with her Japanese husband.  In the yard are cocks which he breeds for sale and for occasional cockfight matches.  A newly made small fishing boat is dry-docked at the back of the house which faces the bay.

            Ka Berting recounts that he learned to heal not so much because of family tradition or inclination, but because of necessity.  When the children were small and  sick, he could not bring them to the health center or doctor because the nearest ride was two kilometers away.  Then, too, they were poor and could not afford medical care and had to depend on the neighborhood albularyo (folk healer).  He thought: why not learn how to heal?

            He started with learning how to perform tawas.  From a book libro ng kasikretuhan, given to him by his grandfather, he discovered other techniques.  There were also other mystical books which he acquired and studied.  Like relatives before him, he was attracted to finding and collecting anting-anting and the oracion that went with these.  Eventually he took to inviting people who share his interest and they held tupadas at his place during good Fridays.  Tupada means cockfight, but the tupadas ka Berting and others held were a demonstration (payabangan) of what they knew and the “power” of the objects.  The events also became venues for exchange of knowledge and techniques.

            Ka Berting considers himself an all-around specialist (espesyalista sa lahat ng bagay).  Explaining the contradiction, he said that the mystical meaning (kahulugan sa lihim) of arbularyo is intermediary (tagapamagitan) between God and man.

            Belief, faith, is necessary for healing.  All religious teach the same thing.  A baptized Roman Catholic, Ka Berting believes that religious are but different paths; in his own words, “kanya-kanyang daan, iisa ang tinatarget.”  Petitions or requests for healing should be preceded by prayer to Jesus Christ and the admission of sins.  He likens it to washing up before sitting down to eat a meal.

            A person also has the ability to facilitate his/her recovery from illness.  Ka Berting admits that he heard this from Johnny Midnight in the latter’s programs over DWOO.  If the person believes s/he will not be healed, there will be no relief.  He respects the old adage “help yourself and the One above will help you.”

            Ka Berting thinks that 75% of diseases today are due to the chemicals in foods such as preservatives which weaken the digestive system.  The “garbage” circulates in the blood as poison and any weak part of the body is affected.  Anything in excess is bad.  Though he believes in and has encountered cases of kulam he says it is ineffective (hindi kumakapit) if the person has healthy mind and body.

            Using a pendulum, taking pulses and reading impressions on paper like x-ray are Ka Berting’s methods of diagnosis.  His pendant serves as a pendulum.  He cites an example.  If a person comes to him, he consults the spirits by using the pendulum.  He recites an appropriate oracion and asks: “Santa Misericordia, Inang Mater, ako po’y magtatanong sa inyo.  Ire po ba sa inyong kapangyarihan e puede pang bigyan ng lunas ang karamdaman?”  The direction in which the pendulum moves gives an answer to the question of whether the illness of the person can still be cured:  clockwise means “yes” and counter-clockwise means “no”.

            Like his friend, Boy Fajardo, Ka Berting determine the organ of origin of the illness through pulsebeats.  He employs the same method:  three fingers of one hand on the patient’s wrist and two fingers of another between the patient’s pointer and thumb.

            Another diagnostic procedure is placing a piece of white bond paper, about two inches by three inches, on the person’s forehead.  He says a specific oracion and after about two to three minutes, reads the “impressions” against the light, like one does to an x-ray film.

             Treatment depends on the diagnosis.  These range from herbs to drink or apply to hilot and exorcism (tigalpo).

            Ka Berting does not believe that the ability to heal is bestowed on a few or is it an innate talent (likas).  Everyone has the capacity to heal, but the most important thing is the purpose in learning to heal.  It can be used for the good of others or for selfish motives.  This is the reason why, he says, he does not charge for his services.  Sometimes, especially during mealtimes, he serves patients food and drinks even if some come to him with a jeepney-load of companions.  For this, his friends criticize him, but he reasons that he is compensated in some other ways.

            Ka Berting thinks that doctors and healers should not criticize each other (sana, walang siraan).  He has had the occasion of advising  patients to go to a doctor for treatment especially those which he thinks are psychiatric cases, and those who need prescribed medicines.  However, there were times when a town physician referred patients to him, cases which the doctor thinks have non-physical causes like kulam and napaglaruan ng engkanto o duwende, o nasapian ng masamang espirito.  Then he performs tigalpo.

            An  almost equal number of men and women come to him for treatment (kunsulta), but among women, the most common ailments have something to do with pasma or nalamigan brought about the practice of taking a bath even when menstruating.  It is easy to find out, he explained.  The woman’s hands and feet are cold.  He repeats the counsel of old folks not to bathe or wash the feet when menstruating.   The reason is that if at that time a woman’s resistance is weak, she is prone to illness.

            A woman who have just given birth and has pasma is treated with saklob.   She is massaged on the lumbar area and then made to sit on a chair with a big hole on the seat while hot water is placed below, the steam directed by a mat or any material.  A cloth soaked in cold water is tied around her forehead to prevent the heat from going to the head.  It is a form of steam bath to make the woman perspire and in the process eliminate “pasma”.

            Ka Berting is not a full-time healer (kung may dumating lang) and laughing, adds that he is fond of going out (malayas).  He also goes to the Union Adoradores Christianos al Espiritu de Vino (UNACAED) center, also in Cardona.  Like other members, he makes it a point to make pilgrimages to Mt. Banahaw.

Bro. Carmelo Cortez and Rose Petals

I heard about  Carmelo Cortez from a Filipina who resides abroad. She comes to the Philippines at least twice a year to visit relatives and see to her business. She showed me a rose petal with an image  like that of the Blessed Mother. According to her, Carmelo performs healing after the Mass in a small church in Sta. Maria, Bulacan. By rows, people approach the communion rail and he goes to each one, blessing them with oil and saying a short prayer. After everyone has gone through that ritual, another line is formed. Again, he goes to each one and puts a rose petal from a tray below the person's throat or upper chest. When the people go back to their seats and look at the petal, there is an image. It is a different religious image for different people.

Ever curious, I drove to Sta. Maria with some companions. Luckily, we found a pew near the altar, so I was able to observe what was going on. I was skeptical but followed instructions. People were quiet and orderly and it seemed that it was not the first time they have attended the Mass and healing there.

The flowers inside the church were all white roses. Assistants plucked the petals and put them on the tray before Bro. Carmelo did his rounds. The assistants' fingers were bare, no hidden gadget to place imprints on the petals.

My turn came and I gave a rose petal from a white rose I bought in Manila to Bro. Carmelo. When returned to my seat and  I looked at it, there was an image of the Last Supper! One companion's had the image of Sto. Nino (Child Jesus), another, an image of the Blessed Mother, and another, an angel. The images were clear. I noticed that the images became clearer when the petal turned brown after some time.

BUMBAY VS. TURKO

I moved to Davao City, Philippines, over a year ago. People generally understand Filipino and English even if the dialect spoken is Bisaya. Communicating is one less of a problem. I, however, encountered some problems because there are terms used here which mean differently in Filipino, my native language.  

The supply of Indian incense which I brought with me from Manila ran out, so I asked friends, neighbors and neighbors' househelp. My question was: "May alam ba kayong tindahan ng Bumbay dito? (Do you know of any Indian store here?) "Bumbay" is a generic term used in Metro Manila and I guess other parts of Luzon to refer to people from India or those who look like Indians.  I got  the quizzical look from most, but one told me she thought she saw one near the St. Paul Church in Matina.

With that as my only and vague clue, I went to Juna Subdivision where the church is located. At the entrance of the subdivision is the tricycle terminal. I asked the drivers on the queue, but again I got that "What are you talking about?" look. Exasperated, but not about to give up, I hired one tricycle to take me to the St. Paul Church.  Luckily, there was a barangay (village) official standing in near the church. I described what an Indian looked like and he pointed to a closed store. According to him, the store had to close down. The tricycle driver listened to my conversation with the barangay official and afterwards told me that there was a store run by a family whose features are like what I described on the other side of the church and in front of the Philippine Women's College. He referred to them as "turko" (Turk). It was my turn to have that look.

It was a variety store. The owner was there and he was indeed a "Bumbay". It dawned on me that "Turko" was the local term for "Bumbay". A long-shot guess is that locals generations or centuries ago had trade with Turks, a topic that I started to research on.