EPISODE 4: THE best wingman full story transcript

There was once a young lawyer who visited the home of a prominent Chinese family in Vigan in the early 1920s. There was a large gathering that night, and our young lawyer decided to join in with a rigaudon, a french folk dance for couples alongside the family’s daughter. At some point, the lights went out while they were dancing. When the lights were finally restored, they were found in each other’s arms. This kind of scene is proven to be scandalous at the time. No one is supposed to touch a woman out of wedlock, and our young lawyer was forced to marry the family’s young daughter. Our young lawyer in the story was Elpido Quirino, who would become the 6th president of the Republic of the Philippines. The family’s young daughter, none other than Alicia Syquía, she was only seventeen at the time. This shows how complicated dating and courtship was at the time.

Dating in the Philippines has always been conservative from way back the Spanish era even during the American regime. It is still widely influenced by European and the moral guidelines of the friars who technically rule the Philippines. Here’s a few guideline for a successful courtship during the early 20th century Philippines. Formal courtship is a must in getting to know the girl you adore. You wouldn’t approach just any girl on the street and until you make your intentions heard to be taken seriously. Anyone who does is frown upon and considered troublesome. Often times, you need an in-betweener, a person that can bridge a connection with the woman you like that can hand over your love letters. But the best way to show your intent is by visiting the girl’s home at night when her parents are in attendance. Expect that the father of the girl you like will have his bolo in full view, a single-edge sixteen-inch blade used for farming, and warding off irritating suitors. Make sure that you don’t come empty handed too. Bringing gifts to her parents and siblings is a must with flowers and sweets. It also helps with your case in getting attention if you perform harana in front of her home. Harana is serenading in front of the girl’s house in full view of their window. Make sure you have a few of your best wingman that can help you play a musical instrument while you sing your heart out. Songs should be flattering and speak as well as your declaration of love and devotion. Just don’t promise the moon and the stars and you’ll be fine.

Anyway, I’m not here to tell you about the whole courtship or dating practice in the old days in the Philippines. You can visit our website storiesfromthebarrio.com or the local library to find out more. Yes, we do have a website now dedicated to giving you more information on local Philippine culture and additional materials to read. For now, here’s a story about courtship. This one is about my uncle, a Filipino-Chinese man from the southern part of Luzon. Even with his jet-black hair and charming face, my Uncle Romy faced a difficult challenge. He stood out of the community because he was born into a family that carried the last name of the revolutionary hero, which meant higher expectations. But being a prominent figure doesn’t mean it’s easier to get girls. You see, there’s a girl that he likes that lives in one of the islands in Caramoan. Caramoan is a group of small islands in the Bicol region. Some are populated while some are too tiny to be inhabited. Getting to that particular island where the girl lives will take about the twenty-minute motorized boat ride. The trouble is, my Uncle doesn’t own a boat or know someone that might let him borrow it for the night. Fortunately, he had the right wingman for the job. Simon, my Uncle’s best friend, is literally a real wingman, he is a “Manananggal.” A “Manananggal” is a mythical creature that can severe it’s upper torso and sprout large bat-like wings on it’s back, and suck other people’s blood. Being friends since they were kids, he regards him as harmless as they knew each other’s families. You’d think Simon would look scary by day for being a Manananggal, but it was actually the opposite. He is quite lanky and tall and has a sunny personality. He loves to joke around people. People speculate that Manananggal is frightening at night, with red glowing eyes and large fangs that extend to their chin. But my Uncle, upon seeing it today, imagined it wrong. Simon still looks the same from the upper torso in spite of an enormous leathery wing on his back. He looks comically ordinary, and surprisingly, his entrails are intact. It’s like a magician cut off his torso and have magically added a leathery hide underneath his stomach. Usually, a Manananggal leaves his lower appendage somewhere safe and away from prying eyes. If discovered, anyone can place a fistful of salt on the lower attachment and prevents the Manananggal from connecting back to its body. If a Manananggal weren’t able to get back to its body by sun-up, he would be burned by the heat of the sun. But this time, Simon would need my Uncle to carry his lower appendage with them. No one in their right mind would want to open their window if they saw half a guitar player flying over their nipa hut. My Uncle strapped the guitar on his chest, with a large cloth sling on his shoulder with flowers and gifts, and carried Simon’s lower appendages with both his arms. Simon brought him with both his hands upward to the sky across the sea.

Crossing the island won’t be easy, and they can’t carry a lamp unless they want someone to spot them and create panic amongst the fisher-folks. But the moonlight is sufficient enough for them to travel by air.

Along the way, “Are you by any chance carrying calamansi with you?” Simon cried out to my Uncle.

Calamansi is a small lime cultivated widely in the Philippines. It is used in various cuisine to add acidity, or as a refreshment. It can also be used to drive away Manananggal along with salt, garlic, and holy water. It is also fatal if used in large quantity.

“Ohhh, I think I have calamansi along with the pancit I’m carrying.” Uncle Romy replied.

“You do know that calamansi is bad for me. Lose it, or we’re going to drown.” Simon hastily shouted to my Uncle.

“Silly me, I totally forgot it weakens you.”

As Uncle Romy tries to juggle up the items he is carrying trying to get the pancit out of the sling bag with his left hand, his other hand is losing grip on Simon’s lower appendages. He had no choice but to drop the whole sling cloth to the sea along with all of its content.

“Sigh, I guess we’ll leave it to my personality to charm them.” My Uncle said sarcastically.

“Yeah, leave them a good impression. The girl may let you sleep in for the night!” Simon jokingly chuckled.

- *Interlude background music of the wind and then crashing waves coincides with the first paragraph*

They crashed to the beach, and my Uncle fell flat on his face. The guitar still strapped to his chest. Simon tumbled while his lower torso bounced in the other direction. Simon was too exhausted from carrying my Uncle and from the strong gust of wind crossing the sea. Not to mention that they have to fly higher to prevent other fishermen from eyeing them. Simon flew to his lower appendage, fixing it upright and connected his upper body. His wings started to retract back on his body as if it doesn’t exist, leaving no mark at all. He went to check on my Uncle, who still clearly having a problem getting up. My Uncle sat on the sand and Simon alongside him. Both are trying to catch their breath from exhaustion.

After cleaning and freeing up their clothes with sand, they decided to get going. The girl’s home is about a half kilometer inland from where they landed. The light from the moon guided them on their path as they trudge along. Houses are a hundred meters away from each other separated by coconut farms. Finally, they arrived at their destination.

- *Harana music until the last paragraph*

Slowly, a light came shining out of an opened window from a house made of Bamboo wood and thatched roof made of Nipa leaves. The house is elevated as the customary design of a Bahay Kubo at the time. Generally, the ground floor houses livestock such as chicken or other supplies. It also cools down the house as air can enter the flooring below. A woman about nineteen years of age came peering down the window holding a kerosene lamp. Another two girls appeared on each side. All three are beautiful, their skin seems to glow from the light of the moon, and their hair flowing up to their shoulders seems to sway as if they have a life of their own. Simon and my Uncle are both smitten by what they saw and forgot what they’re playing. The three girls laughed at their reaction and told them that they can stop playing and invited them up inside the house.

“We hit the jackpot!” Simon whispered. Trying to hide his grin from the three girls.

They later found out that the three girls are sisters and close to each other’s age. Their family mainly stay on the island except when they needed supplies on the main island, that’s how my Uncle was able to spot the eldest girl in the market asking for directions. Inside the house were a few kerosene lamps hanging on a bar on the roof. There are chairs and tables made of bamboo and stacks of cloth sacks that contain coconut husk covering an entire wall.

“Our parents are away for the night—hunting. I don’t think they’ll mind if you accompany us for the night seeing that you’re not from around here.” Said the eldest girl who Uncle Romy just serenaded.

“You must be famished from crossing the sea. We have plenty of food.” The second girl blurted.

“Please, let us serve you!” Said the youngest sister.

Uncle Romy and Simon were ecstatic. They immediately accepted the offer and apologized for losing their gifts along the way.

“The wave was too much for as to handle. It supposed to be calm tonight.” Uncle Romy added.

They were assured that their beautiful harana would make up for it. In exchange, my Uncle and Simon are to eat sumptuously of the three sisters cooking. They were served a freshly cooked meal. It was a local dish with coconut milk and meat. The meat was tender and moist, and the thick broth was flavored with coconut milk, taro leaf, and ginger. Their belly was plumped from eating, and they couldn’t resist the three girls asking them to eat some more.

Simon excused himself and went straight to a batalan. A batalan is an extension of the kitchen that houses water jar, baskets, and other kitchen items. The flooring is lined with bamboo strips making any water seep through on the ground below. There is a ladder that goes down the house where people can relieve themselves. On his way back to batalan, Simon noticed something odd about the pot in the kitchen. He was surprised at first, but it quickly changed to being horrified after realizing what it exactly means.

“Ladies, we’ll be on our way. Thank you for your hospitality”. Simon hurriedly said while dragging along my Uncle with him out of the house.

My Uncle trying to regain his composure as his arms felt like it’s going to get ripped off from Simon’s grip. Simon’s strength is undeniably formidable, and no way my Uncle can wrestle his arms off.

“So early!” Said the eldest girl.

“Please have some snack and tea first.” The second sister exclaimed.

“You can stay for the night.” The youngest insisted.

“Ummm…we’ll come back soon!” Uncle Romy shouted hesitantly.

As they rush out of the vicinity of the house, my Uncle kept asking Simon what was wrong—but he wouldn’t answer. He just kept yanking my Uncle away. When they reached the coast, Simon told him what he saw. My Uncle couldn’t believe what he just heard, it turned his stomach upside down. Emptying everything he ate that night on the side of the sandy beach. Simon can only sympathize with my Uncle’s reaction as he enjoyed their recent meal containing human flesh. That would explain his regained strength and vigor as the three sisters they visited can only be from a family of Aswang.

Aswang is a mythical creature. They can change shape at night to a different form such as dogs or cats or even another human as they seem fit. They hunt at night and replace their victims with a doppelgänger such as a banana trunk. This replica will die of sickness as they return home. In a few days, their bodies will be revealed as a tree trunk. During that time, the body is long buried, and only the Aswang knew of their fate.

The trouble with accepting food from Aswang, well, besides the possibility of consuming human flesh, is that they might be tricking you to being part of their family, transforming you to be an Aswang by serving you a corrupted egg. This egg contains a black baby chick that inhabits the Aswang curse. Nobody knows where it came from or where it can manifest.

“Such a waste, those girls were gorgeous, though.” Simon calmly said.

“You can always go back tomorrow if you want. As for me, I think I’m going to stick to the ladies in town.” Uncle Romy exclaimed.

“Not in a million years would I want a family of Aswang. Let’s go home!”

This concludes the story of my Uncle and his wingman. If you have any personal stories of aswang and other mythical creatures, please don’t hesitate to share your stories thru our email at kamustasa@storiesfromthebarrio.com. You can also visit storiesfromthebarrio.com to read where Aswang came from and the implications of it on our society.

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