I don’t get it. Do you really have to literally pay for your wishes to come true? To whom are you paying? To whom are you wishing? Does anybody earn from these things? It looks like a seemingly innocent scam. People  throw coins even in mall fountains. Whenever I see this thing in a shopping mall in Quezon city, I fight the urge to count how much money there is. I wonder whether the guards were ever tempted to collect the coins.

Okay, I know I’m sounding grouchy and killjoy but really, I don’t get excited when I see wishing-whatevers. Maybe instead of selfishly wasting your coin in some ritual, why not give it to our less fortunate brothers and sisters begging in the streets. Might as well take time to make a wish for them, too.

While I’m at it, let me ponder on my aversion on wishing wells…

I grew up in a province where one of the main sources of water was deep well. We even used to have our own one in our backyard that was used for laundry and bathing. But our source of potable water came from our neighbor’s well because it’s cleaner and safe to drink. I used to love the taste of cold, fresh water from the well (which was odd for some of my classmates who had installed water lines in their houses. They said it tasted like mud while for me, the water from the faucet tasted like kalawang.)

Maybe this is the why I find wishing wells odd. When I was a kid, it’s a big no-no to drop anything in the well. No, not even a coin. We were never taught to pose about face, eyes closed and murmur wishes in the well before throwing in a coin. On the contrary, we were strictly told NOT TO SPEAK TO THE WELL. The only words that I remember the old folks told me to say whenever I will go near the balon are the magic words: TABI-TABI PO (which is a sign of respect to the entity that are believed to be thriving in the well and providing us with clean water).

But as a curious and naughty little child, I did the forbidden thing. One day, while I thought nobody was looking, I spoke to the well. I was a little short to even reach the brim of the concrete so I stood on a stool, peeked through the deep and cold hole and bravely said: Tabi-tabi po, nuno! (I know for most of you, Nuno lives in a punso but some of them also live in wells, or so we thought). I was suddenly delighted to hear my own voice bouncing back in an echo so I shouted repeatedly before bursting into a bad-crafted rhyming joke: TABI TABI PO NUNONG PANGO! (Excuse me, flat-nosed Nuno). This brought horror to my mother who came rushing in panic to get me down. She said I might fall and something like I might offend the Nuno so I have to say sorry (which I did half-heartedly because I thought Mr. Nuno can handle jokes pretty well especially from a little kid). A few days after, I had a terrible fever.

An art work by Carlos "Botong" Francisco
Source: http://www.rizalnewsonline.com/2011/11/v-behaviorurldefaultvmlo.html

Yep, looks like our resident creature in the well took my joke badly. I can hear him say: How dare you say that? I have a perfectly pointed but slightly crooked nose but I’m not PANGO just like most of you Filipinos! Nyaks! English-speaking.

Whether or not the Nuno really punished me for my impertinence, things really changed several years after. The wells in our neighborhood had to be closed. Some were due to drought, others were contaminated. I once had typhoid fever when I was in grade 6 so we totally stopped getting water from the well. Water distiller stations also became an “in” thing downtown. We used to get water for FREE! Now we have water bills to pay and drinking waters are delivered in blue bottles. There are still functioning wells in some areas but I don’t think they are being used for drinking.

I once made an essay in highschool entitled AIR FOR SALE which is a harsh prediction that we might have shortage of fresh air in the future; that we have to buy oxygen tanks and pay to “air stations” just to be able to fill our lungs with oxygen. I hope this will never happen (may pagka-psychic pa naman ako minsan :|).

Sure it was a month late from Halloween but the theme is so fresh to the public, no one seemed to mind the timeliness. If anything, I think this theme is good any season.

“Tabi- Tabi Po” showcases artworks exploring Filipino mythical creatures like the Dwende (dwarves), Kapre (tobacco smoking troll), Manananggal (a lady that leaves her lower body and flies away to look for victims), and so much more. The phrase itself, “Tabi-Tabi” means “excuse me” in Tagalog (a Filipino dialect), “po” means respect to the elderly.  Filipinos utter this phrase to show respect to the underworld creatures who were believed to live in bushes, trees and wilderness in general. For example, when someone needs to pee in the woods, he or she would have to say tabi tabi po as a sign of respect or request of permission. Whether these creatures exist or not, the practice of saying Tabi tabi po often teaches the people to respect Nature.

The only production I remember that also highlights this theme was the theatre play, “Banana Fairy”, produced by Revival Arts Productions a few years ago. “Banana Fairy” was a play about a magical amulet or “anting-anting” that can be obtained from the heart of a banana tree. The main character met the mythical creature called the Kapre, the forest’s tobacco smoking troll.

I remember growing up in the Philippines, I would hear stories about these creatures seeking revenge after having their property disrespected, I would get so scared!

Anyway, to give you a better idea of what I’m talking about, here’s a short documentary on Filipino Folklore:

I heard artists from all over the globe contributed to this installation. I also heard that some of them believe the creatures are more than just a folklore and that they do exist. I was not surprised to hear that though. Some of my family members and friends in the Philippines believe about the creatures too-it’s a common belief over there. Anyway, the other artists, (from the looks of their art) put a rather modern twist to their interpretation. For example, there were pieces like “Rock Steady Dwende”, and “Aswang Dancehall”.  By the way, a good friend of mine, Dino Ignacio, also contributed his piece, which looked like a “girly” Mananaggal, with a friendly face and a pink aura.

Proceeds from the artworks will be donated to the typhoon victims in the Philippines, which makes the event all sorts of win. But to makes things even better, my friends at Bindlestiff Studio, a Pilipino Theater Arts organization, put together a shadow puppetry show during the event. I thought shadow puppetry was the perfect medium to showcase Filipino Folklore because it exudes mystery and playfulness. The story  is about a Dwende (dwarf) who got too big. Though it’s a children’s play, I had a feeling my nephew might get too scared so I didn’t bring him along. Instead, I filmed the show, so at least he can watch it from a computer, which might make the experience a little less frightening.

Events and shows like “Tabi-Tabi Po” make my heart big because they bring back memories of my childhood in the Philippines. And I’m grateful not only for the nostalgia but also for the fact that the Bay Area (and maybe some other parts of the world) acknowledge the rich history and culture of the Old Philippines-and I’m talking about the rich, complex, and colorful threads of the Old Philippines, not just the “balut” eating, “tinikling” dancing part of the culture. “Tabi-tabi” po adds to my list of thought provoking Filipino events in the Bay Area, along with Bindlestiff’s “The Movement”, ‘The FOB Show”, and Revival Arts’ “Tatarin”. Kudos to the curator, James “Ganyan” Garcia and to Bindlestiff for making Tabi-Tabi Po possible.