Where lies true love?

By Wilhelmina S. Orozco

Sometimes we think that love just happens to people or couples stick together because they are truly soulmates. Anything rational about loving is deemed not true at all. The stronger belief is that the more accidental or “pinagtiyap ng pagkakataon” a relationship is, then the more real it is. But then some people may actually want to control the relationship in one form or another. Perhaps it could be through the use of certain objects that produce magical results or consulting fortune-tellers.

Unfortunately, anything connected with making a person love another through spells or potions is always deemed odd, “witchy,” and is bound to cross the Catholic teaching that such is a pagan-like and sinful practice. Yet, many women and even men in the Philippines practice this, judging by the long line of customers of Brother George Acbang, and the customers of Baguio-born Aling Inday and her daughter, Dinang, in Quiapo. Acbang is a fortune-teller-cum-helper of the seemingly hopeless, despondent and desperate and also those who just want to get a second-hand opinion on the status of their life. On the other hand, Aling Inday offers those little bottles containing special natural herbs for use in solving heartaches.

Acbang’s clients patiently wait for their turn to get his advice or reading in that small space he occupies within a restaurant in Quiapo. His tools are cards and prayers to counter or induce spells. On the other hand, Aling Inday and her daughter seem to have a thriving business as their wares such as herbs and twigs, colored stones and rosaries attract a lot of customers.

Acbang has been reading cards and advising the lovelorn for 11 years. He is a relative of the older Acbang famous for his predictions and readings and who used to have a radio program.

Aling Inday has a different approach to the “love problems.” She sells those small bottles and large semi-precious stones that are said to have an effect on the outcomes of love encounters and conflicts. The bottle, which she calls “Five Fingers,” can make the man return to the spurned lover. This bottle has a small twig with five stems looking like fingers, mixed with what looks like maize hair. “Pag hindi siya umuuwi, [isulat mo ang pangalan], ilagay mo dito sa bote, at lagyan mo ng langis. Tapos, sa gabi, tawagin mo ang pangalan niya. Babalik siya sa iyo, “ She describes the process without batting an eyelash.

Another bottle is called “Ugat ng Alaala.” It is for those who feel desperate about being abandoned. By using this, the individual can make his or her partner not forget their relationship. “Hindi ka iiwan. Lagi kang naaalala. At hindi siya magmamahal ng iba,” she says.

I was first introduced to a fortune-teller when my mother, Esperanza, visited one, an old man who rattled off his predictions using cards. The guy would even close his eyes and look up as if talking to the gods above. But the way he dealt with customers was rather short of my expectations. He was always in a hurry to finish off and customers were not required to pay him anything but they had to buy a thing from his sari-sari store which the customers would then give him after receiving his “blessings” spells or readings.

He then would put the object in a box near his feet and then his wife would get the same to make its way back to the store. So in effect, the goods were going round about paid at the store, then deposited in the manghuhula’s box and then returned to the store again. This scene was really imprinted in my young mind then, curious as I was about everything new, whether experience or object.

My mother did the same and lo and behold, I found myself, after her session, to be facing the manghuhula also. He asked for my name, and then counted in his fingers its number of letters. “Ah, sampu,” (ten) he said, and then continued to say “oro, plata, mata” and then landed in “oro,” or gold. He gave a prediction, “A, Wilhelmina ang pangalan mo ay magiging passport mo para ka makilala sa mundo. Etcetera, etcetera. At the end of his “predictions,” he told me, “Huwag ka nang babalik dito, iha.” He probably noticed how I had observed the goings-on in his place, the said circuitous transactions labeling his business, in effect, a scam.