"When
the gagalen has become red in the witch doctor's mouth after some
minutes of chewing, the "doctor" spat the filthy red stuff
into his cupped hands and rubbed it into the palms of his patient.
"
Here is a vodoo story from good, old Tolong, my native hometown. I
have
to assume that Tolong is a microcosom of the country except for some
minor variations. In the Visayas (possibly including Romblon) "aswang"
stories abound. In Tolong we have witch doctors called "manananems."
For the benefit
of non-Pangalatots and our American-born/raised
compatriots "manananems" are, literally, planters in the
Pangasinan
dialect. But what these planters plant are not rice nor veggies.
According to ancient and primitive beliefs they plant stuff, thru
hocus-pocus, into anyone's body with sinister intentions, making their
victims dreadfully sick.
Incidentally,
there was an explanation as to why they were not able to
inflict sickness on the hated Japanese during the war. Modern firearms,
specifically bullets, were the antidotes to manananems' craft. These
manananems have smart explanations for things that can cast doubt
on
their craft!
Comically, some
of these characters invoke western elements of their
native hocus-pocus such as the Catholic ritual of making the sign
of the
cross imposed in past centuries by corrupt Spanish friars!
So when a person
got afflicted with, say, goiter, a manananem supposedly planted a
ball of rotting meat into the victims's neck, explaining the
mysterious bulge. If a tubercular person starts coughing out blood
from
his ravaged lungs he is said to have been planted with pig's blood.
The
list of ailments of manananem victims are as endless as sicknesses
common to a malnourished third world population that routinely ignores
basic sanitation.
Not surprisingly
modern doctors have a problem of treating manananem
"victims" or patients who believe they were victims of manananems.
But if
one story is true there was supposedly one modern doctor who resorted
to some witchcraft of his own to reach into the mindset of his superstitious
patients.
Dr. C (I even
wonder if he really existed) made it known that he enlisted
a manananem to teach him the "science" of manananems. He
then treated his patients with all kinds of herbs and incantations
but he saw to it that the prescribed harmless medications like boiled
guava leaves or thoroughly boiled lizards. But in addition he injected
patients with modern antibiotics, did xrays and all the modern stuff
available to a country doctor. He kept complete charts in accordance
modern medical practice.
Being quite successful,
so the story went, other jealous doctors ratted on him to a national
medical society in Manila. Down came investigators for professional
ethics looking for this "quack" but our doctor/herbolario
surprised everyone with his complete charts and records of his medical
procedures. One hilarious case was when he showed an x-ray picture
of someone's lungs where there was a dark shape of a tiny eggplant.
He informed his patient that a manananem cursed him with an eggplant
and the patient was convinced with the necessity of a surgical removal
of what was actually an eggplant-shaped tumor.
There was a time
in our immediate neighborhood when the only "koleds
gradwits" I was aware of was myself and a newly minted lawyer,
outside of the degreed schoolteachers who were our elders and one
aging doctor whose favorite prescription was aspirin. Of course, just
a year or two later the neighborhood got swamped with kids "na
nakatapos ng karera" or some such humorous description.
Please note that
the town of Tolong has long had an ample supply of
jobless characters with college degrees. So townwide, my lawyer-friend
and I were not the only "koleds gradwits." But in our immediate
neighborhood we were.
Anyway, to debunk
my skepticism of "manananems" (I was laughingly derided
as a haughty college boy) I was invited to witness a witch doctor
get rid of a young girl's afflictions who was supposed to have been
"planted" with something. The witch doctor pompously asked
for a shot of nipa wine and a wad of "gagalen" - a chewing
concoction of coca leaves, a white powder made of heat-pulverized
clam shells, chewing tobacco, and a tiny piece of hard, mature betel
nut.
When the gagalen
has become red in the witch doctor's mouth after some
minutes of chewing (I never knew how the gagalen became red - could
be
some chemical reaction of the various components of the gagalen with
the
bacteria in the mouth of the witch doctor) the "doctor"
spat the filthy
red stuff into his cupped hands and rubbed it into the palms of his
patient.
He then pulled
out a smooth pebble from his pocket and after reciting some incantations
he inserted the pebble between his patient's forefinger and middle
finger. When he pressed the fingers together it produced what must
have been excruciating pain for his patient who screamed and begged
for mercy for the punishment to stop.
"I will stop
now but promise me to tell your real name," the witch doctor
sternly warned.
"Yes, my
name is Belen," said the patient.
"You are
lying," said the doctor. "Your name is Berto, the manananem,
and you planted bad air in Belen's body which is why she is having
abdominal pains." Then he pressed Belen's fingers again and Belen
screamed in pain.
"Okay, okay,
my name is Berto," said Belen. "Just stop inflicting pain
on
me!" she implored the slightly inebriated witch doctor.
Thereupon the
witch doctor stood up with resignation. "I cannot cure this girl
right now - maybe some other time. There is someone in this room who
does not believe in what I am doing and the spirits refuse to cooperate
with me unless this unbeliever believes."
He made the sign
of the cross. He looked in my direction.
Fortunately I
was able to contain myself. I could have burst into stitches from
laughing. But if I was able to contain my amusement I still earned
an enemy out of the old guy whose mouth was filled with a fresh batch
of filthy gagalen when I challenged him to use his best skills in
planting something bad in me as long as there is a physical distance
between us measured by a ten-foot pole.
"Mahirap
kausapin ang taong mataas na ang pinagaralan..." he said in
disgust, spitting his red gagalen out of the window. Fortunately nobody
was down below the window but I knew he wished it was me who was there.
Ahh, good, old,
Tolong...
