Scary Filipino Legends

Whether you observe All Saints' Day or the evening before best known as Halloween (All-Hallows-Even), we wanted to share a bonus post on some Filipino legends that gave, and still give, us the creeps!

Multo

The Tagalog term for a ghost is multo (derived from the Spanish word muerte, meaning dead). The multo is the soul of a dead person that has returned to finish an incomplete task, take revenge, or because of an improper burial or an unusually violent death or suicide. The ghost may be seeking a replacement so that it can live again.

Grace-Sonia's multo musings: The very thought of the multo being around would freak me and my brother out!!! A ghost-like creature with missing limbs (either no arms or legs) that would float around to come "get you" (whatever that meant!) in the middle of the night.

Aswang

The aswang has to be one of the most famous of the Filipino scary legends, described as a cross between a vampire, a witch, or a werewolf. Aswangs are shape shifters - human by day and an animal (dog, a pig, a bat, a cat, a snake, etc.) by night. In many regions, they're known as giant bloodthirsty dogs or flying creatures of the night. The thought of an aswang roaming around as a stray animal usually kept kids inside and even adults on their guard.

Michelle's aswang musings: My mom would tell me if I was bad, she'd throw me out to my grandpa's field and feed me to the aswang.

Tikbalang

Tikbalangs said to live in the mountains or forests of the Philippines, have the head and limbs of a horse, and the body of a human. Tikbalangs scare or get travelers lost, and to some, have the the ability to shape shift into a traveler's relative or close friend who asks them to follow it into the woods to make them even more lost. When mad (and a tikbalang get mad pretty easily), a tikbalang can stomp you to death. Travelers can protect themselves from the tikbalang by wearing their shirt inside out and asking the tikbalang out loud for a safety passage.

Bev's tikbalang musings: As a kid, I remember being out a little too late and it would start getting dark. Imagine having to walk by a huge tree, the ones with humungo roots where creepy things can jump out of, and flipping my shirt inside out and asking the tikbalang out loud to leave me alone because I was good and going home.

Duwende

A duwende is a small human-like creature, closely resembling a gnome, who live in forest-y areas. There are said to be two types of duwendes: duwende puti/"white" who bring good luck and duwende itim/"black" who like to play pranks on humans. Duwendes usually keep to themselves and only interact with humans when their homes are messed with. The best way to avoid pissing off a duwende is to say “tabi-tabi po” or "excuse me" aloud before going into their space.

Grace-Sonia's duwende musings: During camping trips, my mother told us it was important to apologize to the duwende before doing your thing out in the woods. I knew the duwende as little trolls who lived out in the forest. If you did not apologize, the duwende with their magical powers, can bring you bad luck. No one wants bad luck on a camping trip.

White Lady

The White Lady is a female ghost known to some as a long-haired woman in a white dress, with her face usually hidden. The most famous white lady story is the White Lady of Balete Drive, in Quezon City, Philippines. According to legend, she was raped and killed by Japanese soldiers during the Japanese occupation of the Philippines in World War II. While not purposefully hurtful, she's been known to cause fatal car accidents for those who see her walking along the road or in the back seat. Some also say that she has no face or a face covered in blood.

Michelle's white lady musings: My friends would always talk about her wandering around scaring kids.

Manananggal

The manananggal is described as a beautiful woman, capable of severing its upper torso in order to fly into the night with huge bat-like wings, while leaving its lower body standing where it left it. Using its extremely long tongue, the manananggal sucks the fetuses from a pregnant woman's belly. To kill a manananggal, one has to find the lower body and spread salt, garlic, or ashes on the open wound. That prevents the two halves from joining and transforming back to human form when daylight breaks.

Bev's manananggal musings: I remember sleepless nights spent watching out for manananggals. I got scared and thought that they might mistake our house for a pregnant woman's and hang from our roof, then snatch me up with their long tongue.

Dark skinned Filipina is not less than or equal to Light skinned Filipina

My embarrassing moment may not seem as funny or as retrospectively embarrassing as Bev's 2nd grade presentation or Gracie's hot VP encounter. It may seem a little racist, at least in my mind I thought it was. And it may seem like a damper to the mood set by my two bebot sisters. So to lighten the mood and stick with our youtube comedian jokes about Filipinos, I too will post something to make you laugh before you delve into my embarrassing and racist moment.

So Rex mentions at the beginning that if you're a dark skinned Filipino, you're going to have a hard life. Funny thing is... my mom had that same mentality. Amusing coming from a middle-aged woman whose village was right next to the ocean and who used to be browner than the coconuts that fell from the trees in her front yard.

When I was growing up, my mom would warn me to be careful of getting too dark. "You don't want to get so black that I can't see you outside at night." Or, "You're as black as dirt, which means you hang outside too much!"

Most children didn't care. Most of my non-Filipino friends were amazed at how I could brown so easily and not get sunburned. I just wanted to play outside and roll around in the dirt like any normal American kid.

One day my parents took me to a birthday party for a girl named Australia who was in middle school and was as pale as Sharon Cuneta, the hotest young starlette of the Philippines of the time (yes, I'm that old!). Of course, Australia's friends were also pale, and just disgusted by dark skinned Filipinos.

I remember that moment when I walked in, a shy 9-year-old, looking for a friendly kid to ask me to play. I walked up to a group of kids and smiled shyly only to hear one boy sneer at me.

"You look like a Cambodian!" he exclaimed. "You're so dark! Are you a FOB?"

This was 1) an insult to me, and 2) the first time I heard about the term F.O.B. (fresh of the boat). I started crying and ran to my mom, subsequently prompting us to leave the party early.

At the time I was so embarrassed. How dare that boy, who didn't even know me, call me Cambodian?! How dare he say I was fresh off the boat?! Do I look Cambodian? Just because I was brown doesn't mean I was beneath him. I complained to all of my Filipino friends asking for reassurance. I didn't REALLY look Cambodian did I? Granted I didn't have the flatnose that is associated with Filipinos, but I thought I looked like my cousins and other relatives back in the P.I. Didn't I?

Later in life it dawned on me that what I was thinking as a kid was a bit racist. What that boy said was racist as well. But it made me realize that a hierarchy mentality of migrants had formed. The Filipino wave of immigration began much earlier than the more recent wave of Cambodian migrants; which meant that Filipinos had time to have children, establish themselves in the communities they resided in, and contribute to the upbringing and Americanization of future generations of Fil-Ams. In our efforts to become more American, we too became more disdainful of color. Dark brown skin became affiliated with hard labor and poverty, whereas light skin became equated with success. As Rex mentions in his skit, who wants to marry a dark skinned girl?

Nowadays, I'm more embarrassed that I was ashamed to be called Cambodian and that I didn't say anything back to that boy. Funny thing is, my sisters always compare how dark they've gotten after a summer playing outdoor sports. They even have a competition with my mom (MY MOM) on who is the darkest. My mom doesn't mind that her skin has gotten dark from hours of watching my baby sis play softball, and she also doesn't mind that I married someone who is just as dark as I am.

We are currently working on our tans and constantly being mistaken for Hawaiians, Southern Chinese, Indonesians, and of course, Cambodians. But none of us really mind at all.

Oh, and I have plenty of Cambodian friends with whom I discuss this topic often and we compare racist perceptions of each other's cultures.

Remember that one time?!?

When it comes to embarrassing childhood experiences, it's difficult to differentiate those that were typically embarrassing versus ones that were due to me just being a Fil-Am kid. Looking back, I was quite an eccentric child, but my strangeness felt punctuated at times by my traditional Filipino family.

In my family, we were raised to keep our personal lives very private. So I think this is part of the reason why I've struggled with responding to this blog topic for so long. But I think my mom would chuckle at the two incidences I'm going to share with you...I hope.

In the region my mother hails from, it's traditional to wear black for an entire year after your parents pass away. A whole year...ALL BLACK. While this could usually pass for a fashion statement, it doesn't fly all the time.

I'll never forget the year that my grandfather passed away. I was 14 and my brother was 12. My grandfather died in the Philippines, which left my mom and my aunt here in the U.S. without much family support for their grief. My brother and I didn't know Grandpa very well. We couldn't wrap our minds around the death of a family member, and were not much comfort for my mother and her sister. When they got back from the funeral, they purchased an entirely new wardrobe of all black clothes from Macys. EVERYTHING was black. Shoes, socks, shirts, pants, skirts, everything. My brother and I were not subject to this tradition, so though we thought it was a little weird, it didn't bother us...until we all went to Mass on Easter Sunday.

While everyone in Church was dressed in bright spring attire, pastel pinks and yellows to celebrate the Risen Lord, my mom and aunt were in ALL BLACK. It was like they had not gotten the memo that it was no longer Good Friday, or were showing up for a funeral. As we lined up for Holy Communion, I noticed the strange looks and whispers in the pews. I felt SO embarrassed. How was I going to explain to the entire congregation that we indeed were pleased that Jesus rose from the dead, it's just this old school Filipino tradition my mom and aunt insisted on practicing?

When Mass ended, my brother and I telepathically agreed to stay for a little bit, and let our mom and aunt get a head start walking over to the car. After about twenty, far away paces, we followed at a distance behind them...very slowly.


I became a problem child in high school. If I didn't see the point in going to class, and if I didn't like being there for any reason, I just wouldn't show up. I took advantage of my school's open campus policy, and walked over to the coffee shop (even McDonalds sometimes) to read what I wanted to read and smoke the cigarettes I managed to purchase illegally. Sometimes, I would meet up with friends from neighboring high schools, but most of the time, I enjoyed being on my own. I worked the system to avoid getting suspended, and intercepted warning notices from my family's home mailbox.

I thought I had it all under control until I got called out of class one day. I had orders to go directly to the vice-principals office. This particular vice-principal was actually a good looking white guy as far as high school administrators went, so it didn't really seem like punishment being sent there. Among my female classmates, he was known as the "handsome" VP. On my way to his office, I constructed my plan. Tell him I was sorry, that I've been helping a friend from another school get birth control or something, and work out a deal where I could serve detention under his supervision.

When I arrived at his office, I had the shock of my life. Mr. Handsome Vice Principal was sitting at his desk just as I had expected...but my mom was seated in the chair across from him. I wanted to disappear. I knew I was busted, big time. It was one thing to be in trouble with school administration. It was another thing to have crossed my mom. She was going to kill me. Mr. Handsome motioned that I come in and take a seat next to my mother.

I pulled out a chair, but avoided eye contact with her.

"So you know why you're here?" the vice-principal said.

I remained silent.

"Well, I thought it best to call your mother in..."

All of a sudden, I felt a tight grasp on my right ear and hair being pulled. In Tagalog, she called me a very, very bad word and asked what was wrong with me and why I was embarrassing her. At that moment, with my mother ready to do or say only God knows what else, I caught a glimpse of Mr. Handsome Vice Principal, frozen from shock, probably wondering what my mom just said to me, and whether or not he should call child protective services.

Finally, my mom let go, the vice principal regained his composure, and I heard my sentence. Not suspension, this time. But a couple of Saturday detentions, and a promise to start showing up to all my classes. I felt bad that I had gotten my mom that angry, and had given her cause to raise a hand at me, her supposedly nearly grown up daughter. Especially in front of my school principal, an Americano.

Since Beverly shared a Russell Peters clip, I'm going to do the same. It's about Asian immigrant parents and corporal punishment. It's hilarious. Hope you enjoy: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=o4oO7ZdfSFI

The Land Before Time, Highwater Shorts, & Taglish

As lighthearted as this topic sounds, it's taken me a while to respond. It might be because of the natural tendency to keep embarrassing moments private, or that there's too many it's hard to pick just one. It's probably a mix of both and a bunch of other things.

In the midst of hashing out memories and recollecting childhood oops-es, one Fil-Am related moment finally popped up. It was right after I trekked over from Olongapo to San Diego, dropping in right in the middle of second grade year and just missing the lessons on dinosaurs (which is probably why I refer to The Land Before Time a lot). On top of being the "new girl," I was the new girl who came from a different country, dressed differently, and most noticeable of all, talked differently. I remember having to step out of class to take ESL classes where I was first introduced to Pepperidge Farm's Goldfish crackers-the instructor's prize instead of gold star stickers. The embarrassing moment came when we were asked to do an oral presentation.

We were asked to create a commercial about a product we invented. We had to create a short script, put together a little jingle, and bring a visual of our product to present in front of the whole class. I called mine Rainbow Crunch cereal and I went all out. I had a little jingle to the rhythm of Barney's 'I Love You' song (I still remember the lyrics but I'll spare you) and I even dressed up in my highwater shorts with Disney character rip-off print. To tell you the truth, it wasn't embarrassing in the moment. Only now when I watch the whole thing on video tape (yes it was recorded) do I notice the sharp vowels and consonants rolling off my tongue. Don't get me wrong, it's not one of those traumatizing embarrassing moments, but it does make me wonder, "Why am I embarrassed of my accent?"

After a few movies and TV shows, it's clear that British accents are seen as witty, clever, and even hot. Other European accents have the same reception but why not Filipino accents? Or Indian and other Asian accents? The simple answer is because they sound different but I'm sure there's deeper reasons than just that, which I don't really want to get into just yet. Do you have any inklings?

The Filipino accent, taglish (mix of Tagalog and English), and other variations of Philippine dialects mixing in with its American English counterparts are comforting sounds when my ear picks them out in a crowd. There's a feeling of home when I randomly hear Fil-Ams speaking a language I share with them. This connection overcomes any embarrassment but I still wonder, why that hint of embarrassment pops up in the first place?

In that light, check out this short clip of Russell Peters and his interpretation of the Filipino accent.

Being a Fil-Am Kid- Embarassing Childhood Memories!

Although we're grateful for our Fil-Am upbringing, we find that many of our conversations revolve around sharing some of the awkward or embarrassing memories we've had growing up in a Filipino family.  This week, us bebots are going to set our usual poise aside, and share with you some of the stand-out recollections (that at times made us want to hide) of coming up as a Fil-Am kid.  We hope you'll laugh with us, and if you so dare, disclose some of your childhood memories too.