Tag Archives: filipino

Aswang

Text:

MA: “In Filipino lore there’s this thing called the Aswang, but it’s basically like a Filipino vampire. And, I don’t know if I’m confusing this with something else, but this is the story that I was told, that like, they’re kind of like vampires but they’re, I believe, can be connected to trees. They fly and they’re only half a body or something like that. But the big thing is, the thing that scarred me as a child, is that they prey on pregnant women. So, what they’ll do is fly to people’s windows, and they have really long tongues, so their tongues will go and go through a woman’s belly button and suck out the baby. And that’s what it feeds on.”

Context:

The informant is a 20-year-old college student who is from Orange County, California and of Filipino descent. She says that the Aswang is a popular legend among Filipino people. MA’s maternal grandmother and aunt are interested in the supernatural and say that they can see ghosts, so she thinks that they told her this story. She is not sure what message the story is intended to convey, but she thinks that it may be meant to warn children against staying out late, warn pregnant women against engaging in any behaviors that may endanger their unborn child, like sleeping on their stomachs, she said, or to explain miscarriage.

Analysis:

Legendary monsters often represent cultural fears, provide explanations for tragedies which people can’t understand, or maintain the status quo by illustrating horrific repercussions of defying cultural norms. Just as folklorists have interpreted the legend of La Llorona both as a reflection of societal views about motherhood and female morality and as a way to teach children to be cautious around bodies of water, the Aswang can be interpreted as sending messages about gender norms and safety. I think the legend conveys ideas about women and children, by virtue of the monster preying on fetuses, being vulnerable. It promotes a kind of sheltered or cautious existence for these groups, since this monster, perhaps a representative of men or malicious adult figures, victimizes them. The legend could also be intended to impart ideas about sexual morality. One could interpret the Aswang’s mode of attack as representing sex, and its devouring of women’s unborn children as punishment for female promiscuity. I also agree with MA that this legend may have been used to explain miscarriage.

For another description of the Aswang, consult page 250 of the following source:

Nadeau, Kathleen. “Aswang and Other Kinds of Witches: A Comparative Analysis.” Philippine Quarterly of Culture and Society, vol. 39, no. 3/4, 2011, pp. 250–266., https://www.jstor.org/stable/23719118. Accessed 28 Apr. 2022. 

Step over someone, shorten their life span.

Context: 

D is a 20 year old college student living in Los Angeles, California who was originally from the Philippines. 

This conversation took place in my room as a group of my friends were hanging out and I brought up if they knew any folklore or proverbs that they wanted to share. The informant said they remembered another one and then forgot it so they had to wait a second before it came back to them. 

Text: 

D: My mom was like if you step over people, they’re gonna die like you’re gonna shorten their life. It’s like a Filipino superstition. 

Reflection: 

This superstition is interesting because a lot of the superstitions I know are extreme while this one shortens your life versus immediately causing death. Additionally, it seems like a scenario that would not come up very easily as the person would have to be physically lying on the ground and not try to prevent you from stepping over them. I wanted to see what the origin was as my friend had only heard about it from their mom without explanation, but I couldn’t find any more information on the superstition. It could also be another superstition that is meant as a preventative measure by parents to prevent their children from doing something dangerous.

Aguinalduhan

“So basically, aguinalduhan is a gathering we do in our church every year on the last Sunday before Christmas where all of the adults go into, like, a parking lot and bring bulk snacks and toys and stuff like from Costco… Like those 28-pack chips or candy boxes.  They all sit in a big circle with their big packages of food and snacks.  Then the kids all line up outside the circle in order from youngest to oldest until you’re like 20 years old and it’s like a long line of trick or treaters that get older as you go… the funniest part is that we’ll usually bully our oldest cousins out of the line once they get to be around 22 or 23 because at that point, like, they’re just being greedy.  But then what ends up happening is that they have a kid a couple years later and get to go to the front of the line when their kid is the youngest out of all of us.”

Background: The informant is a 19-year old college student who was raised a Christian in a church that was led and run by his extended family members.

Context: This tradition was shared with me over FaceTime.

I experienced aguinalduhan annually with the informant when we were children, and it was a cyclical tradition that marked the end of another year.  Participants in the tradition slowly made their way to the back of the line as new lives began entering through the front.  As an adult, many of our older cousins are now the ones bringing the goodies (like Oreo snack packs, fruit snacks, Caprisuns) to hand out to all of the younger cousins.

According to limited information available about the idea of “Aguinaldohan” online, our church’s tradition stemmed from a custom named after the first President of the Philippines, Emilio Aguinaldo, where people gave back to the needy during Christmastime.  This version is definitely more sanitized and family-friendly, and serves as a way for everyone to get together and see how we’ve grown throughout the years.

Authentically Filipino

“I always tell you that the true way to test if you’re American or Pilipino is to pinch you.  If you yell “ouch!,” you’re American; if you yell “aray!,” you’re still Filipino.”

Background: The informant is a 48 year-old Filipina immigrant whose daughter experienced childhood in the Philippines but adolescence in the United States.  Therefore, she often tackled issues of her child becoming “Americanized” and losing her identity as a Filipino.  This piece is a joke, but it highlights issues of what an individual with multiple cultural identities “is” at its core. “Aray” is the instinctive Filipino equivalent of saying “ouch” when one feels pain.

Context: This piece is something that has been told to me often growing up, but for the collection project the informant shared this with me at the dinner table in our home.

This is something my mom always told me as I spent more time in the United States and constantly faced scrutiny for “losing” my Filipino culture.  We choose to pinch people to get their reaction in order to catch them at a time where they are not expecting your presence or to feel pain.  Therefore, their reaction is authentic and they don’t have the time to mask their behavior to go one way or another.  It’s indicative of how Filipino-Americans need to be tested to see if they are “Filipino” enough, as being “whitewashed” is something that many young adults get taunted about.  Anyone who was only raised in the United States or in the Philippines would have no need to see whether they are more one or the other; this is applicable only to the community of individuals who have both (if not more) ethnicities as parts of their identities.  It, unfortunately, promotes the idea that one has to be what the person is at their core, and they cannot coexist at the deepest level in one’s identity due to the binary nature of one’s reaction to being pinched.

Tree People of the Philippines – Dwende

Text and Context

DA (informant) – We have the dwende in the Philippines (I think a lot of cultures have them, even Guam). They’re kinda like dwarves and they live in anthills, tree stumps, stuff like that, which is why growing up we were taught to ask for permission before entering the woods.
My mom told me my brother got really sick to the point that they had to go to the hospital, but they couldn’t tell what was up. Apparently he peed on a tree stump and it pissed off the dwende living under it and it cursed him. He was fine in the end though. (laughs)
Interviewer – How were you supposed to ask permission to enter? And what might happen if you didn’t? Similar to what your brother experienced?
DA – You would say, “Tabi tabi po” which basically means “excuse me.” And yeah, it’s so you don’t get cursed in case you happen to disturb their home by stepping on them or something.
Interviewer – Is there anything you can do to lift the curses of the dwende?
DA – Yeah! Witch doctors (in the Philippines: albularyo, in Guam: suruhanu). First they see what’s causing whatever you’re feeling. Usually with melted candle wax and a bowl of water: they let it drip and the hardened wax would form into who caused it. And they tell you what to do based on that. But I don’t really know much about this part.
DA – I remember whenever I got sick as a kid, my mom and my grandma would bring me to an albularyo. She would do this ritual with candles over my head, but I don’t remember much.

Analysis

The informant was telling me about where they had grown up, including the Philippines and Guam, spurred on by an art project that drew upon magical creatures.
The dwende are little tree spirits who, if you disrespect, will cause harm to you, but if you are polite to them, they will leave you alone. I have heard similar stories of the tomten from my own Swedish heritage, who could cause trouble if the inhabitants of the house did not leave them offerings or respect the coexisting tompte.
Belief in the dwende demands respect and politeness for nature, as a dwende could be under any tree one passes. Dwende curses could be lifted by healers who had mastered traditional remedies and were also deeply woven into the traditional Filipino culture. There is a particular saying that can grant you access to these spaces without harm, which lets the dwende you mean no harm to them.