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.

IS THERE A DOCTOR ON BOARD?

I was getting sleepy. After all, it was for me a time for siesta. But taking the 1p.m. flight to Seoul was the best option, considering that there was a scheduled welcome dinner for delegates of the 10 ASEAN countries plus Three (China, Japan and Korea). 

    I looked forward to the takeoff for it always gave me an exhilarating feeling. I took the rose quartz rosary-bracelet I wore and started praying while other passengers were finding their seats. 

     The takeoff was so smooth I wanted to congratulate the pilot.  Then, I had a hard time breathing. It was as if there was weight on my chest. I took deep, regulated breaths to calm the pounding of my heart. Despite the blanket provided passengers, I felt cold, and then warmth started to creep from my feet to the upper part of my body. I felt I was going to pass out. I thought of  people I love, a beautiful serene place… but I didn't feel better.

     I called a flight attendant, told her about my condition, and asked for a blood pressure apparatus. Boy, she surely took her time. Just when I was about to think she didn’t understand me, the chief flight attendant came. I told him my problem and he said he’ll come back. He did, after about 10-15 minutes, lugging a black bag. He put it down on the aisle,  and started to take out the contents --- dextrose, needles, cotton --- the whole caboodle. . . I pointed to the outside pocket of the bag which was the logical place to keep the sphygmomanometer. He took it out, but told me no one among the crew knew how to use it!  I was getting impatient and told him I could take my own BP. 

    “Is there a doctor on board?” a flight attendant asked, using the microphone. “A passenger is very ill.”  I wanted to laugh as I  put the cuff on my  arm. The chief F.A. literally had his mouth open as I got the stethoscope from him. 

    Mercifully, my BP was normal. The question in my mind was: What was causing my discomfort?  Was it acid stomach? Sleepiness? Poor circulation? Who knows?

     I closed my eyes and thought of good things and angels cradling me.  My heart calmed down and by the time the flight attendants served food, I was feeling normal again.  I wasn’t hungry, but thought of the 4- hour flight and the one-hour ride from the airport to the hotel. I forced myself to eat even a small portion.

     As I exited the plane, I shook the chief purser’s hand and thanked him, but I promised myself I will never take that plane again! Not one of the crew knew how to deal with medical situations, not even how to take blood pressure!

    Going through Immigration was a breeze and when I went out the sliding door of the airport, I saw a sign with my name on it.  I was in Korea again….

    

     The very first thing I did when I returned home was to call my friend who does PR for the airline.

PACKING LIGHT

 Packing for a trip, for just overnight or several days require much planning (at least, for me).  I guess the older you get, the more things you need (and want) to bring, like a travel sewing kit, medicines and vitamins, sun screen lotion, creams, and other tocador things. Oh, not to forget a small clothes iron. Yes, I bring a small iron to press folds and crumples on my clothes, especially those I’d wear to meetings or lectures, formal dinners and/or lunches.

     It’s not a good idea to bring more than one pair of shoes for meetings. That’s why wearing pants/slacks is more convenient. You won’t have to wear shoes that have high heels, or think if your shoes match your dress. Brown, black or beige go with any color of outfit.  My must-wear is a pair of rubber shoes so that I can withstand hours of making the rounds of flea markets and malls, not to mention restaurants and sites. 

     It’s funny but I’m a bit OC (obsessive-compulsive) when it comes to packing. Over the years, whether I take only a back-pack for or a suitcase, I arrange clothes by each day. The last set I’d wear is always at the bottom. Whoever designed the travel organizer is an angel. All toiletries could be placed there and hung in the closet or bathroom. Mine has 4 sections where I segregate items for bathing, lotions and creams, make-up and oral care. 

     Ask any Filipina and one common complaint about hotels without bidets, is that even classy ones don’t provide any tabo (dipper) in the bathroom. It’s a cultural thing.  So I travel with one. I haven’t had the opportunity to look at the facial expression of the person at the airport who mans the x-ray machine.  Filipinos won’t wonder, though…

      Every trip, I make it a point to leave space so that when I get back, I’d still have room for pasalubong. I remember one of my trips where I had two friends with me. Because of cheap but beautiful items, we went crazy shopping for ourselves and pasalubong. I laughed when I saw them literally sitting on their maletas so that the zippers would close!

      Packing light is indeed a challenge.

BOOKING ONLINE: OH, THOSE BUDGET AIRLINES!

Booking flights and hotels online is a breeze provided you have a credit card. It’s cheaper too, than getting a travel agent. Within a few minutes, your transaction is over, and all you have to do is wait for the e-ticket or hotel confirmation and voucher. In 24 hours, you’ll receive it via email. That’s the wonder of technology. BUT, amending your reservations is another matter…

            Four of us who are ASEAN IUC core group members are scheduled to have a meeting with the ASEAN Secretariat in Jakarta.  From there, we go to KL for meetings with officers of ASETUC and Uni-Apro for the next AIUC which is supposed to be in Aceh. The schedule was set, reservations were made… until our Jakarta connection informed us that the meeting was moved because of the Director who had to be in Myanmar and who will be back in Jakarta one week after. 

             Guess what? We can’t amend our flights from Manila online because we had paid for everything including the travel tax which the ticketing office insisted we pay. Arguing that we are on government official business and are tax-free and that the travel orders and DOT certificates were being processed fell on deaf ears. We had to pay the fares PLUS the travel tax, refund of which will take months. With that first leg of the trip settled, next was the flight from Jakarta to KL.

             The airline for Jakarta-KL doesn’t have office in Manila. I tried to amend the schedule online but to no avail. I wrote to customer service but for 4 days, I was literally twiddling my thumbs because there was no reply. I decided to call the KL office but the call center was busy the whole day.  I tried calling the Jakarta office and on second try, I got through!  

        Government officials should be taking budget airlines flights when going abroad, so they know what lowly government employees have to go through!

BOY FAJARDO: THE ENGINEER AS HEALER

He refers to himself as an arbularyo, but Boy Fajardo does not fit the stereotyped image of one.  He studied in an exclusive school and went on to U.P. Diliman.  “I majored in BSBB,” he says, but quickly follows it with “major in billiards and bowling” and a guffaw.  Those were the days when there was still a bowling alley and billiard hall in the campus.  He then transferred to another school to take chemical  engineering.  That’s where he met his wife who was also a student.  She comes from a prominent family in Lian, Batangas.  They live in a well-appointed two-storey house near the boundary of Cainta and Pasig.  The house in Mt. Banahaw which Boy designed and supervised in its construction stage provides the family spiritual and physical retreat.

            Boy was born in Pura, Tarlac, on December 2, 1944, the youngest of four siblings.  His maternal grandfather was pure Chinese, a psychic and a kung fu expert, from whom he must have inherited his interest.  Unfortunately, his grandfather had already passed away by the time Boy was born.

            Boy had Catholic education at Holy Ghost and Don Bosco, in Tarlac, Tarlac.  For high school, he studied at San Beda College in Manila.

            In the 1960s, Boy was already deep into the study of religions, philosophy and the occult.  In 1972, he ahd what the doctors diagnosed as muscular dystrophy.  It’s like a short-circuit, he says.  He was studying several things at the same time – the occult, healing, astral travel, oracion, among others.  It is inevitable not to encounter witches (mangkukulam) in the process.  Likewise, there were so many oracion that when one uses them, some may not be complementary.  “So what happens is that there is short-circuiting in the neurological system.”

            For one whole year, Boy was confined to his room, unable to walk.  An arbularyo friend treated him through message (hilot) and herbs.  That was the time when he went intensely into healing.  He cannot remember how many healers he went to in order to learn different techniques.  “Pag may nabalitaan akong magaling, pipupuntahan ko,” he says, adding that he has spent and is still spending time and money in his desire to learn more.

            Boy prides himself as being eclectic.  His background in science and his readings and observations enable him to analyze and explain the phenomenon of healing.  He emphasizes that healing is only a by-product of spirituality.

            “If you’re a healer, you should be able to align the mind, body and emotions.”  He explains further: if only the physical is healed, but the emotions are not, the ailment will keep on recurring.  Diseases are but manifestations that the three (body, mind and emotions) are not in harmony.  “kaya nga tinawag na dis-ease.  Kasi hindi ka at ease.”  For example, he elaborates, when there is a problem with a relationship and emotions are suppressed, negative feelings are nourished, and the inner conflicts result into a biological disorder.  He emphasizes the wholistic approach to healing.  “Kaya kami, manggagamot ng tao, hindi ng sakit lang.  This is where philosophy and spiritual techniques come in.” Thus Boy believes that healing should be approached “three dimensionally”.  Healing should also be philosophically grounded and should abide with the universal law of nature.

            This is one of the reasons why Boy, aside from practicing his profession as engineer, building, landscape and interior contractor, is active in giving seminars on values transformation or kabuoan.  He is a fellow of the Philippine Institute of Alternative Futures which organize cooperatives based on the modules of kabuoan.  He guides people to realize and identify essential values tht would help them transform into better individuals and ultimately, better citizens.  First, he says, the person has to know and admit his limitations.  “I guide them in processing.  Only then can there be a transformation.  You cannot build on something shaky”, he explains.  “Kaya kabuoan.  Each person should be a whole person.  If he is sick, he is not whole.  If there are emotional or psychological blockages, he is not whole.  This is healing in its wholistic sense.”

            Physical healing may be classified into biological, electrical and electromagnetical.  Conventional medicine and herbs are biological or chemical forms of healing.  But, he clarifies, many of western medicines are “confrontational”.  He cites Pasteur’s germ theory and the use of antibiotics.  Herbs are indirect.  “Basically,” he says, “these are diuretics that clean the system to increase your resistance.”

            Boy claims that by tradition or practice, the arbularyo is (1) chiropractor, (2) reflexologist, (30 ocupressurist, (4) exorcist, (5) counselor, (6) birth assistant, (7) herbalist and (8) oracion user.  The first three, he classifies under electrical healing; exorcism and use of oracion he classifies as electromagnetic or metaphysical healing; assisting in birth, as physical; counseling, as social/psychological and emotional; and herbal medicine as biochemical.

            Hilot, acumassage, acupressure and acupuncture are examples of the electrical type of healing.  Pranic healing on the other hand is an example of electromagnetic healing.  To him, the term pranic healing is misleading because “ it is not the prana that is being manipulated, it’s the electromagnetic energy.”  Prana means universal energy, life force, and it cannot be manipulated, but electromagnetic energy can be realigned.  When this energy is altered, automatically the electric energy is altered.

            Boy draws a parallelism between pranic healing and the use of oracion.  The reciting of oracion affects the electromagnetic energy in the same way as in pranic healing.  These are but two different ways of changing or altering that type of energy.  The oracion, however, is double-bloded.  “Puede mong ipanggamot, puedeng ipangkulam.”

            Boys uses combinations of techniques in his diagnosis.  The patient need not tell him anything.  He reads pulses by placing the pointer, middle finger and ring finger of one hand on the wrist of the person, the same spot where physicians take the pulse.  With his other hand, he places his thumb between the person’s thumb and pointer, and his pointer on the underside.  There are many different kinds of beats, some blunt, some sharp, some weak.  Each type has implications.  He has been studying pulses for more than ten years but he admits tht he still has a lot to learn.

            Another technique boy uses is pressing nerve points, which is based on the principles of reflexology and acupressure.  “When you press specific nerve points connected to a weak or sick organ, there is shooting pain.”

            From observing heat change of the body,  Boy is able to determine the parts which need treatment.  He passes his hand from the head to other parts.  Ideally, the temperature that he feels emanating from the person should be the same.  If a part is hotter (mas mainit), it is indicative that the ailment/disease is active, like infections.  If the part is colder (mas malamig) than other parts, it implies slow metabolism, lack of energy.

            According to boy, his techniques are confirmatory.  First, he uses one technique like pulse beats.  He then confirms his diagnosis with scanning for thermal variations and then pressing nerve points.  “Natural forms of diagnosis are more accurate than machines.  On-coming diseases can be spotted; machines cannot.” Thus, a person can take precautionary measures to prevent the disease.

            Generally, Boy resorts to hilot and herbs in treating patients.  Most often, he gives advice on the right foods to take, the right combinations, and traces with the patient the possible roots of such ailments, whether it’s purely physical, or due to emotional or spiritual problems.  He also uses oracion for those who are possessed by spirit/s.  The oracion also enable him to heal even without touching the part of the patient’s body.  He illustrates:  “Suppose you have a sprain, I will recite the oracion, and it will heal.  Or I will write the oracion on the sprained part.  It has the same effect.”

            Does the patient have to have faith in order to be healed?  Boy prefers the word trust.  “This is rhetorics,” he says, “but when you say faith, there is religious overtone.  The moment I say trust, it is simply letting go.  You trust the whole.”  To him, trust has a deeper meaning. He bewails the fact that healers are lumped together as faith healers.  “Basta hindi nag-aral sa eskuwela, faith healer ang tawag.”  The perception is that you have to believe first, to have faith.

            Then too, there are persons who give healers a bad name.  “Natuto lang ng ilang oracion, they claim to be healers.”  Knowing oracion and being able to heal can be an ego trip.  That is why preparation, spiritual preparation is important.  Oracion and its uses are not given unless the teacher-healer thinks that the student is prepared; the folly of the student becomes the responsibility of the teacher.

            Boy emphasizes that once you use the oracion, you are in debt to the spirit/entity you called upon.  The spirit/s have to be “fed” with daily prayers.  “Dapat busugin sa dasal, babatiin.”  If not?  Then there are repercussions.  The oracion that is directed to the spirit may not work anymore, or the supplicant might get sick.  “so,” Boy explains, “with the oracion you have power, but in a way, the spirit have power over you.  You have utang-na-loob.” Boy says he is selective in using oracion because there are time when the patient has to go through the process of natural healing for his/her own spiritual good.

           

            Boy is president of the Association of Health Aid Givers (ATHAG).

RED HOUSE

As a requirement for one of our courses, my classmates and I had to do a survey about family planning. My group was assigned to cover the Sampaloc district.

    Getting interviews every four houses wasn't bad at all. I didn't have to walk far. I reached my last sample household for the day and knocked on the door. A dark plump woman with hair in a bun opened it. She reminded me of a character in the movie 'South Pacific", the one who sang "Happy Talk". 

    "Kayo po ba ang maybahay?" (Are you the housewife {of this household}?), I asked.

    "Oo. Bakit?" (Yes. Why?), she replied with an Ilocano accent.

    After explaining my purpose, she agreed. The living room accommodated only a small couch and one straight-backed wooden chair. There was a cotton curtain with psychedelic design separating the room from the other parts of the house. Hardly had I started to ask questions when a man and a woman who was in kamison (chemise) came out to the living room. The middle-aged man looked at me with appraising eyes and asked: "Ne, tagarito ka?" (Young miss, do you live here?). As I replied with a "No", another couple came out. The middle-aged man said goodbye to my respondent and left. The young woman went back to wherever it was behind the curtain. I felt a little uneasy. I turned to my respondent and asked her about her children.

      "Wala akong anak. Dalaga ako" (I don't have children. I'm single). She misunderstood "maybahay" (wife) for "may bahay" (house owner) when I asked her permission to conduct the interview. I apologized for taking her time and quickly rose to my feet. As I was leaving, the man said: "Ne, babalik ka dito, ha?" (You'll come back here, won't you?). I didn't bother to answer or look back. I walked quickly to the variety store on the opposite side of the road. My classmate was aready there having a chat with the storeowner.

       "Bakit ka pumasok dun?" (Why did you enter that place?), the storeowner asked me. "Putahan yon! Buti na lang walang nangyari sa iyo." (It's a whorehouse! It's good nothing happened to you).

FEAR FACTOR

 It was a marathon presentation of final papers for graduate students in my research class. They were 8 in the class and we couldn’t finish critiquing the proposals in one 3-hour class. The class was interested in going to Mt. Banahaw, so agreed to hold the presentations in the sacred mountain.

            As is the practice there, people go to the Sta. Lucia waterfalls to have physical, emotional and spiritual “cleansing”.  The waters are also invigorating, and I, as well as my students needed it. We’d have fun first and tackle business later…

            The presentations started after lunch and finished in the evening. Everyone was drained from the discussions and after the sumptuous dinner, the students asked me to teach them how to meditate and relax.

 

            We sat at the long dining table and the exercise began.  Prayer for protection and deep rhythmic breathing was the first step. With their eyes closed, I led them through it. Outside the house, it was dark and so quiet except for the occasional sound of crickets. It was a private compound and there were no vehicles passing that way. Then the alarm of one student’s car went off. Perplexed, he took the car keys from the pocket of his shorts and put it on the table after turning the alarm off. 

            The same thing happened two times more, just as they were getting relaxed. I was concerned because a female student refused to open her eyes the third time. As if in a trance, she said that she didn’t want to and that she was riding a horse. With a stern voice, I told her to open her eyes several times. When she did, she saw an apparition. It was a man with long hair sitting behind a classmate. We all decided to forego the exercise and went to the sleeping area.

            At 2 o’clock in the morning, the car alarm went off again. In my mind, I saw a tall lean figure beside the vehicle. It wasn’t human. Somehow I knew that that entity was giving a warning.

            In the morning, a healer/psychic friend who lived several houses away came. When I told him about our experience, he said that I should have “talked” to the entity because it wanted to communicate with me. It seems that the entity, by turning the alarm on, was preventing the student who saw a “ghost” sitting behind her classmate from going into a trance.

            Whatever, it was, I didn’t have the guts to really find out. I wouldn't’ know how to handle it and was afraid. In hindsight, I should have tried. It was, after all, an ET, probably from a different “species”. I did research on it and saw a sketch in one of the credible sites in the U.S. What was weird was that the writings shown in the site, taken from an alien aircraft that crashed in the US were familiar. They were the writings or scripts shown to me in my dream more than 10 years ago.

           

HANSEL AND GRETEL IN LEYTE

One of the areas in my research on traditional healers was Leyte. Somehow I managed to coax my good friend and former classmate, Vic,  to serve as my interviewer/translator. 

I used the snowball technique in locating healers. All interviews and observations went well until we went to see Mang Teroy…

Ours was an unannounced visit, but Mang Teroy agreed to be interviewed after Vic explained our purpose. He was about 5 ft. tall, about 65 years old, a bit on the squat side, with dark skin and balding head. His neat bamboo and nipa hut lay at the center of the yard which was, to my estimate, more than 1,000 square meters. There were mango trees, papaya, and coconut trees. There were loose but friendly dogs and some chickens. 

We were invited to enter his house and were led past the small living room-cum-healing area to the veranda.  Though I could speak only a few phrases in Waray, I could understand the dialect. 

Towards the middle of Mang Teroy’s story-telling, a woman in her 20s came with her son who was about 5 years old. What luck! We would also get to observe his healing technique. He told the boy to sit on a bamboo stool in the living room. Then he started to light the charcoal which he placed in a coconut shell (bao), sprinkled some dried herbs on it and waited until there was smoke. He sat in front of the boy to start his rituals… and my heart almost stopped! Horror of horrors! He made an inverted sign of the cross, starting from his solar plexus to his forehead, to his right shoulder and finally to his left. He was using “dark forces” for his healing!

“Vic, alis na tayo. Ngayon na! (Vic, we have to leave fast. Now!), I frantically whispered to him.

“Baliw ka. Di pa tapos ang interview” (You’re crazy. The interview isn’t over yet), Vic answered. His irritation was obvious. “May toilet naman siguro dito (There might be a toilet here), he added, thinking that I just needed to use the bathroom.

“Now na! Bilis! Sabihin mo, babalik na lang tayo” (Now! Hurry! Just ell him we’ll come back). My hands were getting clammy from fear.

Mercifully, Vic got up, as if exasperated with a child, approached Mang Teroy and bade for us a hasty farewell and thanks. It took a lot of effort for me not to break into a run once we reached the bottom of the bamboo stairs.

After a few meters, I told him what I saw. He said something in Waray which to me sounded like an expletive. He made the proper Sign of the Cross, reached for my hand and practically dragged me to the road on a half-run half-walk. We probably looked like overgrown and over-aged Hansel and Gretel running away from the wicked witch!

        We hailed a tricycle and told the driver to bring us to the jeepney terminal. The driver must have thought us eccentric because once we were seated, Vic and I started laughing our fears away.

VILLA ESTRELLA

Several years ago, I and some of my colleagues conducted a seminar for teachers.  The venue: Villa Estrella (not the real name of the hotel) in Baguio City. Villa Estrella was quite a place. The restaurant was on the street level, while the living quarters were separate clusters on different levels. All rooms are accessed from the garden. There are also open huts where people could sit and talk.

We reserved 3 rooms: one for me,  Helen and Lulu, another, which was on the far end was for Inday, Letty and Virgie.  The middle room was for the driver and Johnny who will be fetched from Manila by the driver and will travel to Baguio. There were no telephone in rooms, so we had to go up to the restaurant area where the admin office was. It was tiring, since the seminar hall and rooms were so many steps down.

 We were preparing for bed that first evening. I was in the bathroom brushing my teeth when Helen said we should ask for other blankets because it was very cold. Lulu said that since the middle room was still unoccupied, we could get the blankets and ask for replacement for Johnny and the driver the next day. Lulu went to the other room and gathered the blankets, but she could not get out of the room! She could not open the door which wasn’t difficult to open! I focused and saw an old lanky man. He was angry. I told Helen to tell Lulu to leave the blankets in the room. When Lulu did, she was able to open the door easily. 

 I woke at about 1:30 a.m. because of screams. It was like a pig being slaughtered. “Baka may canao”, I thought. But the screams went on and on. I began to doubt whether it came from a pig. I focused and “saw” that it was a woman about 5’2, a bit on the plump side. Her hair was up to her nape had she had bangs. I saw only up to her upper chest (which was uncovered) and she was being pulled by two men, one on each arm. I prayed until I fell asleep.

 I’ve forgotten about my vision of the woman until Letty asked during breakfast whether we heard the screams of a woman. She thought it was a woman being beaten by her husband and even commented why the neighbors were not doing anything to stop him. The rest didn’t hear anything. We agreed to monitor news somehow to find out what really happened. What I did was interview the guard informally. He admitted that sometimes, guests would hear the screams and it seemed it was coming from Rm 114, but the occupants of the room never heard anything!

Helen, Lulu and I looked at the topic after lunch and decided we could sneak out and go to Session Road. We went down to our room to change into clothing fit for walking and shopping. The afternoon session  had started  by that time. As we passed the conference area, we saw agitated participants outside the hall. What on earth was happening? I was called to listen to a participant’s digital recorder.  She was from Quezon and was checking her recorder to find out if it was recording the lecture. It did not record speaker's voice. Instead, there was a male voice that said very slowly:

                     “May sasabihin ako… Arrrrgennnttt…”.
                     (I have something to say....Arrrgenntt..."

 My hair stood on end. The voice was like of a male radio announcer. 

 Huh? Arjay? Argent?   Oh! It was urgent! I said aloud that he must be Ilocano!

 I was asked to explain the phenomenon to the equally scared participants and afterwards I led the prayers for the soul of that discarnate spirit. Ever curious for explanations, I casually interviewed the hotel staff later. According to him, a few years ago, a security guard shot himself in a room below the restaurant. 

We were all scared, especially Helen, who when she treated us for dinner at the Baguio Country Club, did not want to go back to Villa Estrella, but instead check in at the Club. However, Inday, the most sober among us, said that we should go back.

 We packed our things before we went to bed. I beat Lulu and Helen in going to sleep out of fear. The last thing I heard before I fell asleep was Helen telling Lulu to turn off Helen’s laptop where she was playing some music.  Then I suddenly woke up because I heard music. I thought it was coming from Helen’s laptop. After a few seconds, it stopped. Then it played again. I didn’t open my eyes. Baka ano pa ang makita ko!  (I might see something!). The third time, Helen said: “Lulu, yong cell phone mo” (Lulu, your cell phone). Lulu woke up and said, “Naka-off. China-charge ko” (It's off. I'm charging it).. She got up and switched on the lights. Naka-off nga!  (It's really off).  I told her to check incoming calls, alarm and messages. Nothing was logged. No calls, no alarms, no incoming messages! I checked the time. It was 1:30 a.m.

 The three of us woke early, hurriedly took a bath and lugged our bags to the restaurant area.  When the van arrived to fetch us, we felt so relieved.  Finally, we could leave Villa Estrella.