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| Janiuay Cemetery - built in 1875. Middle entrance. |
I am a big fan of horror stories. Growing up in a Spiritista environment, my grandfather used to receive visitors from neighboring barangays dealing with their personal problems and creating, let just say weird solutions. When he was still alive, he would wake up early dawn, ride around his mountain bike and by the time I wake up he is already cooking meals and the altar is laden with fresh flowers. Living in the boondocks is one thing I missed. Fresh air, fresh food and plenty of stories abound. My grandfather was a science teacher and also a mananambal. Add to that, some members of the family have third eye. And allegedly, one of my grandmothers was an aswang. Sad to say I did not inherit any of her powers, I could use a wing to fly all over the archipelago. Up to now, I do not know how did that story came up. Speculations from relatives and hand me down info revealed that one time when my uncle accompanied my lolo (her husband) to their house, it was a great surprise to see my lola (the alleged aswang) having red eyes and unkempt hair. In my case, anyone can look grumpy when awaken in the middle of the night.
Growing up, I have my own experiences living in the mountains. I would wake up sometimes having bruises on some parts of my body. Leukemia was not part of the possibility. I was just told that a duwende did it because I was hyper. I did not believe it until one afternoon, my sister and I were playing habolan at a basketball court when all of a sudden a big force hit me (like I was pushed intentionally) and fell into the ground yielding abrasion to my shoulders and knees. The ground was smooth, my slippers were fit, I had good legs and my sister was a few meters away. I went home limping and crying. In the middle of the night, my sister awoke from her sleep and heard my grandfather, in front of a burning candle, calling names and scolding a specific one. I would also get sick during my birthdays for several years and would disappear once my grandfather performs one of his rituals. We have our own stories to tell even the bookstores are flooded with volumes.
