Mystery in Capiz

The Capiznons don’t like being associated with aswangs but its myths are based on some of the greatest religions, cultures, and civilizations in the world

There was mysticism in Roxas City that I never knew. I grew up hearing about witches in Siquijor or aswang in Antique, but I don’t know why tales of mangkukulam and such from Capiz never quite reached me, to think that my paternal grandmother, who died long ago, just before World War II when my father was only three years old, was from there. 

On my last visit, also my first, as my plane landed in the early evening in Roxas City, I was prepared for nothing but the reason for my trip, the fifth edition of Iloilo chef and food culture advocate Tibong Jardeleza’s Sabores de Visayas, as well as his Tabu-an Cooking Competition. The first four of Sabores were held in Iloilo, so its venue in 2019, just a couple of months before the pandemic, at El Cirkulo Pavilion, Pueblo de Panay Hilltop in Roxas City, was extra special, the first step to the realization of Tibong’s vision to promote what he has always called the Flavors of Western Visayas. From Iloilo, where his passion for discovering, preserving, and promoting culinary traditions and gustatory riches goes beyond his own kitchen, beyond his own self-interests, Tibong took a bolder leap outside of his own province.

I was with chefs Josh Boutwood, Kalel Chan, Angelo Comsti, Margarita Forés, and Jorge Mendez, as well as food historian Ige Ramos, so all I had in mind was food, oysters particularly.

But at our first dinner at the go-to restaurant Reese’s, before platters of oysters only semi-shucked were served on our table, Cris Syching, our host and Tibong’s collaborator on the Capiz project, along with Roxas City Mayor Ronnie Dadivas, quickly shared associations of the mu-mu with her province. What she shared wasn’t exactly ghost stories, but more like tales of persecution, including an instance in which she and her friends were playing at a badminton competition and, having found out they were from Capiz, their competitors spread word around that they were aswang. They won the competition and maybe the losers were convinced they knew why. I mean, does that even still happen in this day and age?

I stayed on Baybay Strip, a seven-kilometer stretch of sugar-fine, ebony-black, margaha-rich (rich in magnetic iron) sand along Sibuyan Sea. On the first two days, it was windless in Roxas City—and sweltering. At 3 a.m., though we turned in just before 11 p.m., the earliest ever I’d ever tried to be in bed, I walked out of my upper hotel room at the Altacosta, went downstairs, and crossed the grassy lawn to the beach, looking out on Mantalinga Island that, shimmering under a waxing gibbous moon, sat like a lone sentinel just a kilometer from the shore. A great spot for scuba divers, the island has been nicknamed “Good Luck Island” because it is believed to bring good fortune to the fisherfolk.

My last two days in Roxas City were the complete opposite, forcing Tibong and his crew, as well as the guests, to change plans. The forecast was rain in the evening, but the wind was blowing ferociously all day, so the al fresco dinner that in the original plan was to be set up on the hilly terrain of Pueblo de Panay Hilltop, in the tradition of the previous editions held on the grand lawn of the Iloilo Heritage House Nelly Garden in Jaro, had to be moved indoors.

It was a challenge to beat the atmosphere of the previous editions of Sabores de Visayas at Nelly Garden, with the Beaux-Arts mansion owned by the Lopezes serving as a foil against which the dinner would be served on black-clad tables. 

In Roxas City, even without the rain, it would have been a bad idea to hold the gala dinner outdoors. The wind was as wild as an advancing army, howling over the hills, roaring in the waves, rustling in the leaves, rattling the windows, banging the doors, chilling the bone, ruffling hair, and—most alarming to the chefs on duty—coagulating the oils, drying up the meats, cooling the broths, turning the skins to rubber as soon as the dishes were scooped out of the heated pots and pans.

If you reject the food, ignore the customs, fear the religion, and avoid the people, you might better stay at home. —James Michener.

It would have been a pity to have surrendered the joys of Angelo’s susquet (a Catalan seafood saffron stew localized by the use of kamote tops and Boy Bawang mixed nuts), Josh’s roast lamb, Kalel’s callos, Margarita’s version of the Spanish fideuà using the Philippine managat or red snapper and pancit efuven, and Tibong’s lengua con setas de oliva to the whim of the angry winds, so I was glad there were provisions to move the dinner to the covered and air-conditioned pavilion. True to the forecast, it rained mid-way through dinner. It was a brief shower, but enough to have ruined the evening.

The wind roared on until my last day in Roxas City, but every time I stood on Baybay Beach, buffeted by the tempest, Mantalinga called on me. I honestly didn’t feel anything peculiar, even in the dead hours of the night when I would step out of my room into what felt like a gale and gape at the smallish island in the vastness of the strait.

I didn’t detect any shapeshifting entity in the wind. There was a curious thing, though. Because I was there principally for oysters, which I generally enjoy only with a pinch of rock salt, I was surprised that at least two of the restaurants I ate oysters in did not have rock salt in their kitchens.

It wasn’t until I got back in Manila, feeling terribly out of sorts and joking around that I might have been enchanted, that I remembered that, to kill a manananggal, the mythical creature often portrayed as a lovely maiden at day and a monster at night, growing fangs, bat-like wings, and a long worm-like tongue, and separating from the lower half of her body to fly off and hunt, one had to sprinkle salt on the lower body that she would hide among the trees. That way, unable to return to her human form, she would burn to death as the sun rose.

The Capiznons don’t like it when you say these things, but why not? Roxas City is the seafood capital of the Philippines, but Capiz has so much more to offer, so much more, including its mythology.