Filipino Altered State of Consciousness
The plan was to spend the first three weeks in the Philippines, then a couple of weeks in California, then back to the Philippines for two weeks or so, then back to Melbourne. Rusty wanted to go to Baguio to see our balaes (our son's parents-in-law) and I wanted to go down south to the Bicol region area. Perhaps we would do both. Before or after the sojourn to the United States, we would visit Bicol: by bus Pasay to Magallanes, Sorsogón, then to Tabaco, Albay for the ferry boat to Catanduanes, then back to Albáy, visit Bacacay, etc. We would also be around for the third anniversary of my father's death on January 12.
In California, we intended to visit Rusty's first cousin whom we have not seen for 18 years (plus friends, my own relations, former students, etc.). There was also a lady whom we would like to see also and whose husband had died a few years ago. We had met them here in Melbourne 10 years ago. When we found out they were American tourists, we invited them to stay in our place for a few days and showed the sights around Melbourne. They had always sent us Christmas cards with the constant reminder of a room to spare in case we happened to be around. The offer was still being made even after the death of the husband.
Shortly after our arrival at the Philippines, on January 12 we celebrated the third anniversary of my father’s death. We went to mass and visited my parents’ graves. There were prayers in the ancestral home in Lumbác , Pulilan, Bulacán. To the guests and neighbours were offered the traditional 'sopas', 'palitaw', spaghetti, and other rice cakes. There was also other food like 'relyenong boneless bangus', leche plan, and fish. The 'manangs', that is, my mother's companions-in-prayer came, so did the relations from the 'bukid' and other places. After the celebration, we decided to cut short our stay in the Philippines to go to the United States sooner. It was during this time that I witnessed an occurrence that I had not seen for a long, long time.
A couple of months ago I had come across a collection of work by a Filipino Jesuit who is psychologist. He has done extensive studies on the phenomena of faith-healing and spirit-possession to which Filipinos are very susceptible. When Christianity was introduced in the Philippines, the Spanish missionaries tried to stop the animistic beliefs of the natives to which they tenaciously clang to and which today are still present in the subconscious part of the Filipino psyche. This helps explain the susceptibility of the Filipinos to spirit-possession and ability to heal. According to Bulatao (the Jesuit priest-psychologist, it is not really possession of spirits, but possession of images of spirits (not only of supernatural or praeternatural origins, but also of dead and living persons, animals and things in nature). I found his work so interesting that I suggested to the Dean of Theological studies in a university that as part of the masteral course, I'd like to research on the spirituality of the Filipino mystics who could carry out this faith-healing and induce spirit-possession (really, image-of-the-spirit-possession). What I proposed to investigate (and prove) was that this was a special kind of divine revelation (which kind the institutionalized churches brush aside), the special privilege of which has been extended to many ordinary, and in general, impoverished Filipinos.
A few days after the celebration of my father's death anniversary, one early morning, 4 a.m., I went out for a walk. I called in at my youngest sister's bakery to buy some bread. Her son who was manning the bakery excitedly revealed that someone was being bewitched or 'kinukulam' and that an 'arbularyo' (native healer or doctor) had been summoned. I went to have a look because I'd like to see an 'arbularyo' in action. Outside the house was gathered a sizable crowd some of whom had been awakened by the wild screaming at 3 a.m. of the young lady who had been staying in a bedroom. She was brought down to the lounge downstairs where she could be seen by crowd outside. The arbularyo was not there yet and I tried to find out what had exactly happened. I could not figure it out from the crowd so I went closer to the patient lying down with some nice-smelling herbs close by. A relation comforted her and asked what was happening.
The young girl revealed that she had attended a party where a young man took interest in her and publicly embraced her. All of a sudden, she spoke as if she was the young man who had shamed her. He (or she) said that because he was not good-looking, he had no confidence to win the love of any woman (this time of the girl who is currently sick) and that's the reason why he had embraced her publicly. But because he felt humiliated by her not responding to her advances (she had said before that she had felt deeply shamed and humiliated by the public amorous display), he is now subjecting her to this treatment as he has the power to do so. When he was asked to stop torturing her, he said he would leave at 6:00 a.m.
The atmosphere among the crowd was electric, with suggestions being offered here and there. That there was (almost) general agreement that the young girl was 'kinukulam' was evident when a young skeptic suggested a medical doctor. He was met by a quiet, disapproving stare from the believers. Even I felt not confident enough to make this heretical suggestion. A self-appointed medico started treating her and all of a sudden, the young girl let out a frightening, piercing scream and begged (still under the possession and in the person of the rejected lover) to stop the torture (some match-stick had been placed between her toes plus some other treatment with the help of others who were trying to restrain the young lady). Anyway I could not help but notice her (or his) calling the medico by name as she begged him to stop this very painful treatment. How the rejected lover (now 'possessing' the young lady) came to know the self-appointed doctor by name was a 'mystery'. Because I read and re-read Bulatao's work, I believed I could do better than this self-appointed-medico and whom I was being tempted to kick (literally) out of the house for subjecting her to his unsophisticated technique. I was not given this golden opportunity as the poor girl passed out and the confused, and equally suffering, father lifted her and got on a tricycle to go the genuine arbulario's place. To make the story short, the very next day, she looked OK and I believed she gave a secret, embarrassing smile as I asked her how she was.