By BRAHMA FOZ
The guardian of Siquijor town
Legend has it that Siquijor rose from the sea amid thunder and lightning. As if giving credence to this folk tale, fossils of clams and other sea creatures have been found on the hillsides and interior highlands.
The island's native name was Katugasan derived from “tugas” — molave trees that covered the hills. Siquijor was earlier known to the Spaniards as “Isla del Fuego” (Island of Fire) because of the swarm of fireflies that lit the dark nights.
While some claim that Siquijor’s name came from its legendary ruler of old, Sultan Kihod, the popularly accepted version says that Siquijor came from the native term “Siquipjod”, meaning “the tide is ebbing”. Spanish euphony later dropped the “d” for “r”.
From 1683 to the end of the Spanish occupation, Siquijor was under the ecclesiastical authorities in Cebu, and for some time, was administered politically by Bohol. In 1901, the island became a sub-province of Negros Oriental and remained as such until September 17, 1971 when it became a separate province.
Larena, the ecclesiastical and trading center, was the capital of the island until 1972, when a national proclamation transferred the capital to the town of Siquijor.
I arrived on the island a little after 7 A.M. via Dumaguete City, about 45 minutes away by fast craft. Once my feet were dry, my first order of business was to find transportation, but I was distracted at once by the beauty and the tranquility of the island. Struggling with my three-day pack, I fished out my camera and started snapping photos.
The ubiquitous tricycle is the main mode of conveyance in Siquijor. I had no idea what the protocol was over here when hiring a ride, so I approached the one with a ready and welcoming smile.
Joam, he said his name was, and for PhP900, he can tour me around the island for the day. Not waiting for a response, Joam started prattling away — enumerating the various points of interest on the island. I learned from him that there are two tour packages offered in Siquijor: the coastal tour and the mountain tour. Although geared for a long trek, I decided against the mountain tour — weather was a bit iffy since I left the Port of Dumaguete, and shivering in the cold rain on a mountain camp was not my idea of fun. Not that day, anyway.
Closing the deal, I hopped on his tricycle, but before we drove off to our first destination, he took me to a quaint shop and told me that I need to buy a “pangontra”, reiterating that whether I believe in witchcraft or not, it was still “better safe, than sorry”. No harm in following local beliefs; as they say, when in Rome, do as the Romans do… and for PhP30 a bottle (of what looked like coconut oil with a variety of herbs and sticks inside), not bad. He told me to just keep it in my pocket. Good.
Thus began my journey, an exploration of an island famous (or notorious) for its mysticism — a land of witchery, of spells and chants.
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