Sun, Sea, Sand and Just a Pinch of the Supernatural

BY SIQUIJOR GARY

Although I had explored the island of Siquijor many times in the past, the contrast between the coastal areas and the mountainous regions seemed more pronounced this morning. Just an hour or so ago, I was talking to Helen Gerdin (owner of the Coral Cay Resort) about Sustainable Coastal Tourism in the Philippines. Helen introduced me to an advertising formula often used when promoting coastal resorts: Sun, Sea, and Sand. There are some, locals and visitors alike, who add a fourth “S” when describing the Island: Supernatural. I belong to this group.

Truly, this is one glorious morning, the heavy fog lifting perhaps with just a plaintive whisper of the earth complaining that once again intruders will violate the stillness of the day. An occasional break in the tree cover allows the sun to peek through, the play of sun and mist a prism soothing to the eyes.

Perched on a hill a short distance from the road, Juan Ponce’s house beckons. For nearly ten years, I had wanted to meet this well-known healer. I had met other traditional healers during earlier visits to the island, but for one reason or another it had taken ten years before we would meet.

I could sense a growing uneasiness among my travel companions as we approach the house. A few locals sit quietly just outside the door, oblivious to a stray pig nonchalantly crossing the path to the house. Two dogs guard the entrance as if transfixed by the same eerie feeling that overwhelms us.

The silence is finally broken as my Visayan-speaking companion asks for Juan Ponce. We are told they would find him for us shortly--but no one moved. In a matter of minutes a figure appears at a distance. Silhouetted by the lingering morning mist set against the backdrop of the tropical sun, it is a vision of someone who seems to have materialized from out of the clouds. No entrance could have been more dramatic and awe-inspiring.

Standing before me was arguably the ultimate healer, the top “good” sorcerer --the king of mananambals (faith healers). Juan and his daughter (the interpreter) invite us to enter the house, seating us in wooden chairs just behind the doorway. His eyes remain fixed on mine, with nary a blink, as I related how long I had wanted to meet him. His daughter continues to interpret as I attempted to explain my medical condition of degenerated disk disease. Juan asked if American physicians had been given a chance to cure me. My answer was no, given the advance stage of my spinal degeneration which is considered beyond surgery.

The mananambal, with characteristic humility, tells me he is not sure if he could help me but that he would try. I remove my shirt and sit facing the back of my chair. Then I start feeling his 85 year-old calloused fingers explore my spine. Soon, Juan begins to knead my back with an assortment of marinated herbs and healing ointments, removing the excess with leaves. At one point I thought I noticed a faint puff of smoke. However, my companions argued that there was nothing present that could create smoke. All throughout the healing session, my thoughts were focused on my personal belief that the mind is a powerful tool. Though I am not a devout “heal thyself” follower, I am convinced the belief yields positive results. Could this be the answer to my quest for the ultimate cure that will release me from my pain?

Again, I find myself sitting in front Juan and his daughter at the conclusion of the treatment. It was an opportunity for what I thought was another unsuccessful attempt to explain the Internet and its reach. I decide to tap into his wisdom and ask a question or two. I ask his daughter, “If there was one thing beneficial to the entire humanity that Juan Ponce would like to tell the world, what would that one thing be?” After the lapse of what appears to be a considerable amount of thought, Juan mumbles something to his daughter that turned out to be two words: “more exercise”.

I take a few more photos then shake the hand of Juan saying, “Thank you sir”. The “sir” elicits immediate laughter from Juan, his daughter, and from the persons still sitting just outside the door. His daughter asks, “Why do you call him Sir, when you don’t know if you have been cured yet or not?” I smile, responding that anyone who is 85 years old and continues to try to heal others will always merit a “sir” from me.

The atmosphere at our departure from the house was a contrast to the scene at our arrival. The mist had vanished. I could hear birds chirping, pigs snorting, why, even one of the dogs started barking. I turn halfway back to the road to take a couple of photos of the house. Somehow it looks quite different now as if its allure is gone.

Now, I am back in more familiar surroundings where my physical condition remains as bothersome and a major concern as when I went to visit Juan Ponce that first time. But I have memories of a day that went by without pain gnawing in my body. It was a day I, or anyone who has a similar experience, will not soon forget.