THERE is a Tagalog word, still very much around today, which once had great influence on me when I was a young child growing up among superstitious household members along Ponciano Street. I remember even before our schooling days, if we weren’t out in the streets with neighbor friends on many adventures, we would be cooped up in my grandparents’ house, where we resided during those early times.
While there, we would be privy to the goings-on in the house, listening to incessant adult talk. Among these were countless beliefs, which I don’t know might still be prevalent today with the new generations.
The so-called beliefs, as it were, to quote the ever-knowing looking glass Wikipedia, were bunched and generally called “Pamahiin in Tagalog” and “tuo-tuo” in Bisaya, which wholly translates as superstition in English.
They refer to traditional, unverified beliefs or practices—passed down through generations—and often involve supernatural elements, omens, or rituals.”
As an aside, I’m all at once thinking how convenient for people today to have such ready data. But continuing on, as part of the memo that did not get to me… “These beliefs are all deeply ingrained in culture and are used to explain events, attract good luck, or ward off misfortune.”
Among the first of the many superstitious beliefs that were imprinted on me, the most involved utensils accidentally dropping from one’s table during a meal. Boomers and perhaps the Gen X might know it…
If it were a fork, then during the meal, a male visitor would be making an appearance. If it were a spoon, then a female would be coming by shortly.
As perhaps chance would have it, during the times it happened to me, these were right on some occasions, while for the time when they were not, I reckon we just didn’t mind as much and went on having our meal. As such, for a fragile mind, the positive times were the only ones I remembered. What validation that was.
When it was time for school, classmate interaction added much to the growing knowledge of what were to me intriguing bits of information.
I wasn’t a Doubting Thomas back then. Instead, whatever intrigued me, especially things bordering on both the unnatural and the supernatural, I sank my teeth into. Among these, the number 13 is considered unlucky, along with a black cat crossing the road and wearing red to church or a funeral.
Back then, I never bothered to ask why they were so; I just took them as gospel. Old people didn’t like curious children or those who questioned what they knew.
Thinking about all these again, have all but made me rekindle how I eventually broke through these myths. First was Marxism. (Just kidding, that might get your attention.) Alas, for some of us, the rebel years rose into full Orlando bloom during times at kolehiyo, where practically everyone debated over anything. Pamahiin didn’t stand a chance.
At one painful time, Mom, in disgust, called me a pseudo-philosopher, which was pilosopo in Tagalog and back to English, was a smart-ass. I guess we all in our generation were.
But, starting with having “tuo-tuo” for breakfast and not accepting them later in the growing years up to perhaps now, I guess, that’s one hell of a journey to travel. Just avoid walking under ladders or continuing when a black cat crosses your path.
