Text: The aswang are evil shape-shifting creatures in Filipino folklore. Many stories told surrounding the aswang sometimes include ways to keep them away and other superstitions that they carry. They are known to prey on mostly young children and pregnant women. My grandma had told me a specific interaction she had with the aswang when she was about 2 years old. My great-grandma was a teacher and worked with another co-teacher at school. The co-teacher asked if she could stay overnight at my great-grandma’s house (the reason unknown), and my great-grandma said yes. That night, my grandma, who was 2 years old at the time, started crying non-stop and would not sleep. There was nothing that anyone could do to console her. The next day, the co-teacher left, and the neighbors went to my grandma’s house and asked her why she let the aswang over at their house. The neighbors told them that the aswang was trying to eat my grandma’s liver. After that night, the co-teacher quit and was never seen again.
Context: My grandma and aunt are very superstitious and fearful of the aswang. When the women in my family were pregnant, they would go around the house with scissors and start cutting the air in hopes of cutting off the aswang’s ties to whomever was pregnant. I believe they have become more relaxed about it now, and after asking them to recount their stories for this project, it seems to be more of a story than something that they are still afraid of. Similarly with Filipino folklore creatures such as the aswang, my grandma and aunt had to bounce details off of each other because they are starting to forget the characteristics of the creature. My grandma had said to me that they could shape-shift into any creature and her sister (my great aunt) had reacted to the information as if she heard it for the first time.
Analysis: Whenever my older relatives tell me stories about Filipino folklore creatures, they have a new story everytime they tell me. It’s never the same story told twice. With the aswang, I feel as though their stories have gotten less scarier. I remember being super scared of the aswang when my grandma was telling us to cut the air with scissors while my mother was pregnant with my little brother. It might be a result of me growing up, the older relatives softening up with the stories, or possibly both. I think my relatives mixing up and forgetting the details mid-story made me believe the stories a little less. However, the more I thought about it, the more I appreciated the mix-ups and forgetting the details. It reminded me of the importance of preserving the feelings and cultural significance that these stories hold in my family. It reminds me of all my aunts asking me to have my grandmother tell me these stories when I was little, because they were excited for me to experience what it was like to hear her tell them—just as they had when they were children. That memory alone makes me appreciate the fluidity of these stories whether I still believe in them or not.
