MUNICIPALITY OF BACACAY, ALBAY, Historical Data of Part 3
PART III
The transcription of this page was done using AI technology.
[p. 41]
FOLK TALE
One–Strike Seven Dead
Once upon a time there lived a poor tailor. When he was working he was being pestered by the flies. He got his broom and struck at the flies. With one strike seven flies were murdered.
One day he went for a journey. He put at his back the placard, “One Strike Seven Dead.” He carried with him bread, a stone and a bird. When he reached the wilderness he found a cave. He slept inside the cave. At dawn the giant of the cave arrived. “Who is there?” the giant roared, “I smell human flesh. I’m going to eat you,” said the enormous giant to the tailor.
“You cannot eat me,” answered the tailor. “Let us find out who of us is stronger,” said the clever tailor.
“I am the strongest giant. I will have you for my meal, Ha, ha, ha!” the giant laughed.
“If you can squeeze the stone until you can pulverize it then I am convinced that you are stronger than I am,” said the tailor. The giant got a big stone and squeezed it with all his might. He could not do it. The tailor got the bread and squeezed it until small pieces of it dropped to the ground. The giant was convinced of the strength of the tailor.
“Let us try another,” said the giant. “Let us throw the stone into the air. The one who can throw it until it can hardly come back because of its incredible height is the winner,” said the giant.
“You throw a stone first,” answered the tailor. The giant got a stone and threw it with all his strength. The stone came back after a long time. Silvestre, the tailor, got the bird and threw it as high as he could. The bird flew away. The giant and Silvestre became friends.
Not long afterwards the tailor and the giant went for a walk in the forest. They saw a very tall and very big lawan tree. They were going and decided to take the tree home. The giant pulled up the tree. They were going to help one another in carrying the tree to the cave.
“You stay ahead and carry the tree on your shoulder the trunk of the tree and I’ll be behind to shoulder it near the branches,” said Silvestre. When the giant carried the trunk of the tree the tailor was only sitting on the branches. The tailor jumped to the ground whenever the giant dropped the tree to take a rest.
“Are you tired,” asked the tailor.
“Yes, very, very tired,” replied the giant, panting.
“How about you? You are not even perspiring,” the giant asserted. The giant was already surprised of the strength of his friend.
[p. 42]
One day the tailor asked permission from the giant to permit him to go to the other kingdom. He put his placard at his back and began his journey. He passed by the palace of a king. His placard, “One Strike Seven Dead,” was seen by the ruler. He was summoned to the palace.
In the kingdom there were two powerful giants who were residing on a big mountain, that fed on human flesh. Every day one person was given to these giants for without the human ration the giants would go to the heart of the city and devour the people they like to eat. To avoid them from coming to the city they were given their ration. The kingdom had long been waiting for someone to save the inhabitants from the terrible monsters.
The king asked the tailor if he could have the courage of killing the two giants. The reward for the one who could kill the giants was the beautiful princess and half of his domain.
The tailor upon knowing the compensation was filled with courage. He brought with him six stones and went to look for the giant. When he arrived in the abode of the giants they were asleep. They were snoring. The tailor climbed to the tall tree near the place where they were sleeping. He thought of a plan to destroy the giants. He dropped one stone on the forehead of one giant. He was awakened. “You are boxing me,” the awakened giant told the sleeping giant. He went to sleep again. The tailor dropped a stone on the forehead of the other giant. He was startled. “You are boxing me,” said one giant.
“No I did not box you,” replied the other. They went to sleep again. When they were sound asleep the tailor dropped a stone on each of the forehead of the giants. “You strike me,” said one giant.
“No you are the one who strikes me,” insisted the other. They became both angry that they fought with one another. They fought furiously that the trees shake, the earth trembled. They were both killed.
The tailor went down the tree, cut the heads of the giants and took them along with him. The people of the kingdom rejoiced at his arrival. They threw flowers at him. “Mabuhay si Bestre,” the people shouted. He was honored much. He was carried to the palace as a hero.
Pompous celebration took place during the marriage. The people rejoiced and the tailor succeeded the throne of the king and ruled the kingdom happily ever after.
[p. 43]
FOLK TALES
The Origin of the bird “Bahao”
Caidtong manga panahon may mag–ina. Sarong aldao so aque nagparahibi — ta nagugutom. Naghagad siya que bahao na maluto. Sa cadaguitan can ina pinocpoc can cutsara. Na desmayo an aque. Naheling can ina na diit diit nagbago so forma can saiyang aque. Casu quicaptan niya nagnalas siya ta may balocag na so aqui. Dai perang horas naging bayong. Huminuni que “Hao” hao” hao.” Bahao!” Caya gnonian may bayong na pinagapod na “bahao.”
Long, long time ago, there lived a woman with a daughter. One day the child cried aloud because she was hungry. She was asking for the left over food at noon. The mother got angry and hammered her with a spoon. The child turned unconscious. Gradually her form began to change as she lay unconscious on the floor. When the mother was about to pick her up she was astonished to find feathers growing around the body of her child. Immediately it flew and cried, “hao, hao.”
From that time on people call that bird bahao. Since then birds making this sound have been called “Bahao,” derived from the Bicol word bahao meaning – left over rice.
[p. 44]
–LEGENDS–
1. The Origin of the Coconuts
Many years ago there lived in a small village a couple with only one child, a son named Niog. They loved him dearly. They always try their best to please him by giving him whatever he wanted to have.
One day Niog would not eat, but cried the whole day asking for something he called “niog.” They were much worried about it. The next day they began the search for “niog,” but in vain.
When they came back, Niog was still crying and refused to eat. The father got very angry and whipped him to death.
They buried him inside their garden and marked it with three stones. Around the three stones they put sticks as fence. Several days later a plant grew from it. They took good care of it as if it were their son. Soon fruits appeared. They were round like Niog’s head. They did not know what to do with it.
Remembering what Niog had been asking for, the man broke one and tasted it. “How delicious,” he cried. Then his wife joined him. From that time on they call the tree, Niog.
An Guinic anan can Niog
Caidtong panahon may nageeroc na mag–agom sa sarong lugar. Igua sinda nin sarong aqui, na si Niog. Padaba ninda si Niog nin hule ta siya sana an saindang aqui. An gabos na gusto ni Niog gabos pigsusunod ninda.
Sarong aldao nahadit sinda qui Niog nin huli ta dai nagcacaon, ano man an titao ninda. Nagpaparahibi sana. Dahil ta padaba ninda, nagparahanap so ama qui niog asin ta dai nacacoa.
Pag–uli niya sa harong, naghihibi pa si Niog. Nadaguit siya asin sa pinacol niya si Niog sagcod na nagadan. Siniñalan ninda so linobgnan qui tolong gapo asin quinodal paralibot. Pakalihis nin nagcaperang aldaomay tinanon na tuminobo. Inataman ninda sagcod na nagbonga. Binaak can lalaki an bugna asin quinaon ninda mag–agom. Gninararan ninda qui “Niog” an kahoy dahil sa saindang AQUI.
[p. 45]
(2) The Origin of the Thunder, the Clouds, the Rain
and the Earthquake
Many years ago there lived a couple named Kabigat and Bugan. They were big giants. They were so big that when they walk about, the earth tremble. The people called this, the earthquake. Whenever Bugan cook their food, the smoke that comes from their kitchen were seen by the people of which they called clouds.
One day Bugan went to the farm to get camotes. She stayed so long that Kabigat became very hungry. He went out of their house and called Bugan, “Bugan, Bugan.” When the people heard his call, they called it thunder.
When Bugan went home she cooked the camote. Before eating they washed their hands and shake them. When the people saw the water falling they call it rain.
An Guinic anan can Dalugdog, Panganoron, Uran
asin Linog
Caidtong panahon may mag–agom na higante. Sa cadaculaan ninda nayoyogyog an quinababan con sinda naglalacao. So magna tao gninararan na linog an hiniro can quinaban. An sinda nagsususubong an song nahihiling can tao inapod nindang pagnanor an.
Sarong aldao si Bugan nagnamuti. Nahaloy siya sa lati. Napupanao na si Kabigat ta udto na. Luminuwas siya sa harong. Inapod niya si Bugan, “Bugan, Bugan! Pacadagnog can magna tao inapod nindang dalugdog.”
[p. 46]
FOLKTALES
Bamboo Salad
A certain peddler, named Biloy was overtaken by night here in Tanagan.
He stopped at a lonely farmhouse to let the night pass. The old woman who lived there invited him to go up and have a rest. Her hospitality was most touching, for although she was very poor she was ready to offer everything she had.
“Forgive me stranger,” said the old woman. “Our village is far from the town and the market. I have little to offer, but what we have is yours.”
“Thank you, thank you,” said Biloy.
The host prepared pickles made of thin slices of bamboo shoots mixed with vinegar and salted fish. Eaten with boiled rice, the salad made a most delicious meal. Biloy enjoyed the strange food very much.
After a night spent in exchanging stories the peddler departed and went on his way. He ate several kinds of food but he remembered the delicious bamboo pickles best.
Upon reaching home he could not help longing for the salad. What he remembered of it was only that it was made of bamboo. He cut a part of his bamboo stairs and boiled it. Then he added several spoonful of vinegar and a handful of pounded ginger. He boiled the mixture for several hours. At last he opened the jar and tasted the bamboo salad. He was surprised. “What is this? This is not the same kind of salad I tasted in Tanaga.” He asked his wife to taste it, but she only made a face.
“May it needs some more boiling,” suggested his wife. “May be so,” replied Biloy, and built more fire. He had burned one carload of fuel before he gave up. The bamboo salad never softened.
[p. 47]
FOLKTALES
Bamboo Salad
A certain peddler, named Biloy was overtaken by night here in Tanagan.
He stopped at a lonely farmhouse to let the night pass. The old woman who lived there invited him to go up and have a rest. Her hospitality was most touching, for although she was very poor she was ready to offer everything she had.
“Forgive me stranger,” said the old woman. “Our village is far from the town and the market. I have little to offer, but what we have is yours.”
“Thank you, thank you,” said Biloy.
The host prepared pickles made of thin slices of bamboo shoots mixed with vinegar and salted fish. Eaten with boiled rice, the salad made a most delicious meal. Biloy enjoyed the strange food very much.
After a night spent in exchanging stories the peddler departed and went on his way. He ate several kinds of food but he remembered the delicious bamboo pickles best.
Upon reaching home he could not help longing for the salad. What he remembered of it was only that it was made of bamboo. He cut a part of his bamboo stairs and boiled it. Then he added several spoonful of vinegar and a handful of pounded ginger. He boiled the mixture for several hours. At last he opened the jar and tasted the bamboo salad. He was surprised. “What is this? This is not the same kind of salad I tasted in Tanaga.” He asked his wife to taste it, but she only made a face.
“May it needs some more boiling,” suggested his wife. “May be so,” replied Biloy, and built more fire. He had burned one carload of fuel before he gave up. The bamboo salad never softened.
[p. 48]
B A C A C A Y
by Juan Basilla
(This is a poem written by one of the teachers of the Bacacay Central School sometime in 1932. This was copied from the files of Mr. Juan Belgica, who is now a Principal of Rapu–Rapu Elementary School, and was a pupil of the Bacacay Elementary School during that year.)
Down by the slopes of Mayon
Where young ladies sing while young men frown
Where abaca thrives, coconuts are grown
Lies the ancient Bacacay town.
Children greet you with a bow and good morning
When the sun in the East is shining,
Goodby, they bid you hurrying,
For the school bell is ringing.
If by chance you meet a young man
With something bright under his arm,
Make no question, made no demand,
For it’s a guitar full of charm.
Follow him and watch him go,
To a certain house, under the window,
Listen to the song of the solterito
’Till he sings his ever–mournful adieu.
The market is the rendezvous of the natives,
From farms, offices, hills and fields,
From care of work that they accomplished.
To meet friends whose hearts they cheered.
There you will find plenty of fish
From sibobog to big banculis
Various vegetables, green and fresh,
Kangkong, gabi, batao and beans.
The native skirts, then a novelty,
Which the old folks wear to keep pretty,
Is now looked upon with pity
By the dresses... long and tidy.
Men are proud of their moronas,
Which are now worn by the lower class,
No blame can be given us....
For wearing our nice Americanas.
The old rocks which the iron cart wheels roll
Horses, carabaos, now frequently stroll
Are now the beds for cars that run
Here and there you will hear their noisy hum.
[p. 49]
If in politics you may incline
An invitation to Bacacay don’t you decline
Here election is as pure as lime
Politicians talk things sublime.
Little Mindanao then it was called,
In the forgotten days of old,
For lies in the bottom of its fold
Boundless fertile lands unsold.
Turn to the West and you will see Mayon
The father–guardina of the Bagcayanon,
Everywhere you look it’s magayonon,
Pride of the happy Bacacay town.
# # #
[p. 50]
HURING CAISIPAN NI RIZAL
by Crescenciano de Guzman
(This is a Bicol translation of Rizal’s Last Farewell. Mr. Guzman is a local writer in Bicol.)
Dios bantayan ca, Banuang namomotan,
Inidcan na Rona, Liwanag can aldao;
Mutya ca sa dagat, caining Sirangan,
Sinayang satuya na caginhawaan.
Pagtao co simo, mahusay, maogma,
Ining macaherac, buhay cong luyos na:
Cun buhay pa sana, makintabon cuta,
Ta gabos mong horot dadamayan taca.
Arin man na rona, dai ririsahon,
Sain man an cipres, laurel, lirio itanom
An buhay casugad sain man ilobong,
Didolot sa banua cun cacaipohon.
Bio nang matugma mapulang liwanag,
And sinag can aldaw na magaya–gaya,
Aso man mangyari to sominobang na,
Dagos an paglacao, pagtaong biaya.
Poon pagtodki saco nin boot,
Tadom na sa isip an maogmang horot,
Na ica lumuas sa mata nin gabos
Dagat nin Sirangan, magayon na tampok.
Magmara na baga mata mong maitom,
Tungcahala lamang, angog mong magayon;
Ta dai nang corot, dai nang corisong,
And digta, an supog, ’anas paparaon.
Danay sa buhay co na pagñatorogan
Na ica man nangad sacong lilingcodan
Caya an calag co biong nag–agragñay,
Ta labi capait saimo masuhay.
Labi camahamis na magadan aco,
Bangcay co ilobong tagñod can langit mo
An cabuhayan mo maging tipan aco,
Sinadadyang daga na totorogan co.
Tara cun sa gñapit an sacong linobgñan,
Na corohoban na, magña caawotan,
May mayugtong burac caarayon dian,
Hadoki ta iyang an calag cong tunay.
[p. 51]
An hadoc mong siring taros sa caladman,
Tala sa agñog coñe na tinotogmadan,
Sa dagang malipot matolahoc iyan,
Tagsup mong mainit, casugad can aldao.
Saimong togot magugasing bulan,
An saiyang sinag aco totorohocan,
Pabaya sana acong dodolotan,
Ta iyang and tandang saco minadamay.
An rigsog nin doros simo man togoti,
Cun omibaba man gamgam pabayai,
Sa Cruz co tomogdon humuni,
Cun catalingcasan sa daga tang ini.
Pabaya an aldao, romagwit an init,
Na hulog na oran omalisgñao gñapit,
Naging alopoop ipalid sa lagnit
Banua, hagada man na aco amponon.
Idtong daiing palad na nagcagaradan,
Nag napol nin saquit na dai mabilang,
Satong magña inang lamos nin agragñay,
Haros ipamibi an caginhawaan.
Siring man romdoma satong magña tugang,
Balo, ilo, gabos nasa bilangoan,
Sagcod pa saimo na nagdudusa man,
Hagadon sa lagñit an catiwasayan.
Sa banguing madiclom na magbalic aco,
Sa sacong linobgñan na mag saro–saro
Cun maca mate ca anong girocgitoc
Talee nin marhay, hiro, mo iontoc.
An pag higñalo hari pag riboqui,
Ta dalisay acong namimibi,
Iyan si calag co simong namamate,
Tandang minadamay sa saimo gñani.
Cun nalignawan na sacong linobgñan,
Na an sacong cruz para na con minsan
Dai na nin gapo na tandang ano man
Minsan aradohon or asadolan man.
Macasalamog man an abong nawalat
Na ining hawac co naging daga liwat,
Gayod maging alpog sa dagang mapalad,
Hapin baga bilang nabibiklad.
[p. 52]
Dalisay na gayo na pagñataman co
Ta sa pagñandron, patag y bolod mo,
Anang sinda gabos tinitindogan co,
Dagñog co an daguing can inagragñay mo.
Pirit mamamate mo sa rinimong–rimong
Sa magña pag–ogma aco aawiton,
Sa pag mundo naman aco sasambiton,
Gñaran co hanggan man oolit–oliton.
Banuang natubuan, sacong nabuhayan,
An saimong culog, sacuyang caculugan,
Hinanyoga baya, huri cong paaram,
Caining masuhay panong capaitan.
An togon co lamang ica nang tatao
Sa gabos sa ama asin namomotan
Ma duman na aco sa Hading cagguibo
Na daing oripon, dai nang malobo.
Paaram ama co, ina, magña tugang,
Capacnit, cahiras caining sacong buhay,
Paaran saindo na cadamay–damay
Humagad sa lagñit can catiwasayan.
Bantay man saimo sacong namomotan
Taga ibang daga sacong caragñahan
Tatalincondan co an gabos na bagay
Ta an pagcagadan, capahigñaloan.
# # #