there's something there that wasn't there before: a retelling of some philippine legends

Philippine legends (alamat) are a popular form of folktales or folklore. And like all oral traditions everywhere, they are passed down from one generation to the next, taught and studied in school or used by the elders to beguile young minds and kindle their imagination. They have also become part of Philippine literature as they have been adapted into books and short stories.

 

Philippine legends generally come in two forms. One tells of the magical adventures and heroism of mortals at play in the fields of the gods while the other enlightens on the origin of things (plants and animals), places and even races of people.

 

This hub is about the second kind of legends, the 'origin legends' if I may. Since the Philippines is archipelagic, it comes as no surprise that there are various versions to the origin of, say, monkeys. The variations in the stories are mostly anchored on the differences that distinguish one culture from the other and othe other. But the differences are largely insignificant as the plots and denouements are predictably the same.

 

The stories below are not necassarily my favourites but they are the three that seem to be among the most popular basing on the inputs from my friends. They are written as I remember them but slightly contemporized language-wise because I am no expert in old world wordplay and they all did 'happen' long ago in some idyllic place far, far away...

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A looong time ago (yep, that long) the sky and the ground where we stand were kissing cousins. Well, almost, as a few feet separated them. No wonder promising the moon and the stars to a ladylove became a cliche! Anyway...

 

Maria lived with her mother in a nipa hut in some, what shall remain an unnamed, village. Maria was a teenager who fancied her blings to the point of obsession. These included her golden comb (payneta, from the Spanish for comb peineta) and necklaces and bracelets which were studded with sparkly stones. She had the habit of wearing her blings and bringing her comb to the river and do a Narcissus.

 

One day, Maria's mother asked her to pound on the rice husks. Maria was by the river and was not done (in fact, she was never done) soaking up the beauty that lay before her. And she ignored her mother completely. Her mother grew irritated, (what mother would not?) and bellowed at Maria repeatedly. Sensing that her mother was near the point of no return, Maria relented but after taking quite a looong last look at herself.

 

Maria took the pounder and pounded on the husks like there's no tomorrow. She was a girl on a mission. She wanted to finish the task in world record time in order to go back to the river and again be Lady Narcissus. She worked the pounder like she was beating a deadline and started sweating profusedly.

 

"Oh no!" Maria exclaimed when she remembered she was still wearing her earthly possessions. Thinking that her sweat might dull the blings (she has a point) that she loved more than the rice husks (it does appear so), she carefully took them off and hung them on the clouds (don't ask me). And then she pounded away again. She did not realize that her not so gentle actions have been nudging the sky, well, skyward. Higher and higher the it went with the golden comb and the bracelets and the necklaces.

 

When Maria finished the job, she found her blings gone. And so was the sky.

 

But Maria was apparently a true blue lover of anything and everything that glittered (hopefully not THE movie) for that night, while sitting by the window and looking up at the sky, she was admiring the crescent moon and the stars that blinked and thinking to herself that her golden comb and her jewelry never looked as beautiful as they did then.

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In a still undisclosed place far from where you live, there lived a stay-at-home mom, Aling (way of addressing an elderly lady not related to you) Elena and her only child, a young girl of 10, named Josefina whom the mother fondly calls 'Pinang'.

 

Pinang was as spoiled as any only child (think Dennis the Menace but not as dangerous) and so Aling Elena did all the chores around and outside the house while her precious daughter, played and played and played some more. But Aling Elena did try to correct things after she was done entertaining the thought that Pinang would eventually shape up when she comes of age. And so she started cajoling her child to do some simple stuff like dusting off the china or something as dull. But alas, it was a case of a little too late for the doomed mother for Pinang had already become, surprise, Little Miss Lazybones. I know this sounds exactly like the plot for the "Legend of the Sloth" but we're not done with the story yet. And to worsen Aling Elena's case, Pinang was quite the thinker too making up excuses left and right why she was not up to any and every given task.

 

One day, before the dawn of the A1H1 virus, Aling Elena suddenly fell sick and was bedridden. She can no longer go about her chores and had no choice but to SOS Pinang although at the back of her mind she knew she was asking for the stars.

 

"Pinang, come inside and cook some porridge so we'll have something to eat" called Aling Elena.

She could've shouted "the house is on fire" but still Pinang would not be distracted from her paperdolls. But still, Aling Elena persisted with her efforts to get her daughter's ass moving. Until, feeling hunger pangs herself and realizing that her mother was not really practicing her acting chops, Pinang relented and went to the kitchen and started making the porridge. But she can't find the ladle! Oh dear! And so she cried out to her mother asking where it was making sure she sounded as if she have already looked around.

 

"Try looking for it under the house" (nipa huts are usually on 'stilts' so there's space 'under' the house usually reserved for poultry and farming equipment). "It might have fallen through a crack or something".

 

Pinang went down bedgrudgingly. And true to herself she just went down period. When she told her mother that she still could not find the ladle, shouting from the dingy space below the house, Aling Elena, knowing full well that her daughter was being sluggish despite her (Aling Elena) being sick, got angry. So angry that she shouted back,

 

"I hope you grow many many eyes so you would find whatever it is you're looking for".

 

After several hours of silence from both ends. Aling Elena came down, sick and all, to scold her daughter but she could not find her. The neighbours did not see her, not a soul had an answer.

 

One day, while Aling Elena was sweeping her backyard, she noticed a strange looking fruit poking from under the house. The fruit, if it was a fruit, has many many what seemed like eyes.

 

Henceforth, the fruit became known as 'pinya' or 'piña' - the Spanish for pineapple. 

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Once upon a time, there was a village that lay beside a mountain and was surrounded by dots of lush forests. The land was peaceful and the harvests were always bountiful. Moreover, the trees bore fruits endlessly and the river never tired of producing catch. But above all these, the villagers took pride the most in the old church bell which was entirely made of gold.

 

But none of the villagers knew where it came from. In fact, the oldest among them did not even have the vaguest idea only managing to say that it was there even before he was born. But if there was one thing the villagers were certain of, as far as the bell was concerned, was that the bell was the source of their good fortune. And so it was almost to be expected that some people from outside the village would want that good fortune for themselves.

 

And like we've all expected, one day, the village was shaken from its idyllic existence when a scream was heard piercing through big and small houses alike, every corner and every street. "BANDITS!!!" it said.

 

The priest and the altar boys immediately went for the village's most cherished possession to hide it from the brigands. They were successful in their attempt but not with their lives as the bandits beheaded them after they refused letting them in on their secret.

 

After the bandits returned to their turf without their object of desire (tough luck!), the villagers buried the priest and the altar boys beside the empty belfry. Yes, the villagers were also not able to locate the bell and they searched every crook, cranny, secret passages and dungeons (okay, I made that up, the dungeons).

 

As days rolled on top of the other, the village started becoming a gloomy place as its residents sunk into a state of deeper tragedy. Where was the bell? Not here, I say.

 

One day, years after the bell went AWOL, a man noticed a tree bearing strange looking pink fruits and standing on the grave where the priest and the altar boys were buried. And stranger still, the fruits looked like (gasp!) bells!

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