Advertisement

Witches of Siquijor May Work Magic for Tourism, Officials Hope : Philippines: For centuries, the island has been identified with magic and faith healing. People come hundreds of miles for ‘treatment.’

Share
ASSOCIATED PRESS

It could be any doctor’s office in any poor village: patients waiting silently, hoping for a cure. But it isn’t. This healer uses herbs, chants and magic words.

Eliseo Bulanan is one of about 75 faith healers on Siquijor, an island of 50,000 people 400 miles southeast of Manila.

“It’s a gift of God,” said Bulanan, 28, of his supposed power. “I cannot explain it. I am simply a vehicle of the Holy Spirit.”

Advertisement

For centuries, Siquijor has been identified with “kulam,” or black magic, with mysticism and faith healing. Spanish colonizers named the island Isla del Fuego-- Island of Fire--because of mysterious lights they saw in the jungle-covered mountains.

Siquijor’s reputation as a haven of witchcraft has spread so far that during the Islamic uprising of the 1970s in the Philippines, both soldiers and Muslim guerrillas came to buy amulets to protect them from bullets.

The healers of Siquijor use many techniques. Some treat exclusively with herbs, others with mystical chants. The “bolo-bolo” chants phrases from the Latin Mass and blows through a straw into a water glass containing a magic stone to draw out the sickness.

Educated Siquijorans find the den-of-witches image embarrassing. “Few people here believe in that stuff anymore,” said Nicolaas van Roselaar, a Dutchman who married a Filipina and runs a small inn. “It’s only people outside the island that believe.”

As Benjamin Aquino, the provincial governor, explained it: “For the literate and those with higher education, they don’t believe in magic. But the illiterate do. There are people from other provinces who come here for magic.”

Aquino, ever in search of revenue, envisions building an occult-tourism trade on the island’s unique reputation. When not pursuing their special interest, he notes, the visitors could enjoy the white sand beaches and snorkel through the rich coral.

Felix Suamen, who works at the provincial hospital, said faith healers became popular before there were doctors on the island, and “the beliefs are passed on from parents to their children.”

Advertisement

Most of the magic used by the healers is “white magic.” But Aquino said black magic was common many years ago--casting spells on a client’s enemy, for example, to ruin his crops, cause illness or make his business fail.

The practice of black magic ceased after several bombings in the late 1950s and early 1960s that apparently were reprisals for evil spells, the governor said.

One faith healer said confidentially, however, that he knew of half a dozen “magicians” who would cast an evil spell for 3,000 pesos, the equivalent of about $115.

Like Caribbean voodoo, Siquijor rituals fuse elements of conventional Roman Catholicism and beliefs that prevailed before Spanish missionaries brought Christianity in the 16th Century.

Amulets and magic potions of herbs, bark and roots are prepared during Easter week. Magicians believe their powers are greatest on the Saturday between Good Friday and Easter Sunday, because Christ has not yet risen from the dead.

Bulanan, who considers himself a devout Catholic, said he received his powers at age 11 after seeing the Virgin and a golden rosary in the sky.

Advertisement

His reputation as a healer has spread to other islands; people journey hundreds of miles for treatment. In return, he accepts donations, often of just a few cents. He lives with his wife and two sons in a stone house complete with television set and videotape recorder donated by wealthier clients.

One of his patients, Nyolito Itik, was brought by his family on a 36-hour journey by land and sea from South Cotabato province. He appeared to be disoriented, suffering from a nervous disorder.

Bulanan put Itik on a stool before an altar complete with cross, flowers and a picture of Jesus. After massaging the patient’s arms and legs, he scribbled “God of healing” and other phrases on triangles of rice paper, to be soaked in water that Itik would drink.

Later, Itik was taken to another hut, where his relatives covered his shoulders with a towel moistened by steam from boiling herbs.

After half an hour of such treatment, there was no cure, but the patient seemed more alert. For the first time that day, Itik began moving his head in response to sounds.

Advertisement