October is the month for haunted
house hunting. For the past decade, the old house in Tiaong, known as the Doña Concha mansion, has been a favorite destination of TV stations, bloggers, espiritistas, ghost hunters, and haunted house enthusiasts. A year-round thing, really; but the interest really heats up come October, halloween, and All Souls and All Saints days celebration of undas.

Alas, I contributed to this seasonal hullabaloo. When I embarked on the rehabilitation of the old house, I web-published a diary on the effort, which unfortunately included the decades-old accumulation of stories of its "hauntedness". Headless Japanese soldiers, rattling doorknobs, the sounds of shackled chain-dragging walking, the cold air that wraps around visitors, along with townsfolk and old-timer stories contributing to the stew of ghostly sightings, shadowy forms moving about in the old house in moonless dark of the nights.

It is not an easy task to kill the ghost stories. The house is almost a hundred years old, abandoned for long stretches of time, the grounds unkept and weedy, shattered windows, unlit and dark, decaying from disuse; certainly an inviting residence for spirits and ghosts, adding titillating fodder to local folklore of townsfolk already already so heavily steeped in mythological creatures of white ladies, kapre, tikbalang, asuwang, mananangal, mangkukulam, and elves who live in termite mounds.,

To boot, the Tiaong Welcome page I posted included my brothers' collection of snippets of ghostly stories on the old house, which have helped keep alive its 'hauntedness', resuscitating for the seasonal needs of television for October segments on ghosts and haunted places.

Adding to the stew of ghost stories, all the caretakers of the old house have helped fuel the stories of hauntedness with their own ghostly lore, old-timer stories of sightings, blatant embellishments, and the occasional "paid" scripted witness stories.

On one such episode a few years ago during a television filming, the
caretaker asked for some "konsiderasyon" (consideration) for his troubles - euphemism for "how about some money?". He was offered P2,000 if he'd agree to a scripted interview of witnessing ghosts walking around, even a ghost conversing with his 5-year old son. And, yes, he took the 2000 pesos. And, yes, it aired.

Haunted no more.
I stayed in the old house for three years during its rehabilitation. No ghosts. Only occasional sounds I attributed to old house creaks. If there were ghosts, they must have long gone, unable to stand the loss of grime, dust, moulds, or the presence of the living and the noise of construction.

But. . .
I believe in the spirit world. I believe in reincarnation. In energy forces around me; unseen, occasionally sensed. Perhaps, that comes from life in isolation. Living in Tiaong for the past  25 years, immersed in its culture, customs and folklore, I have become a spectator to the Tiaongen's mythological world, to the creatures that inhabit their mythos.

Ever here at the peak of Pulang Lupa, where the White House towers, occasional visitors see elves (dwendes, itim at puti), white ladies, or the ephemeral young lady in red; feel invisible presences and palpable forces; or hear knocking on windows, and voices as the habagat winds whip and moan through acacia trees.

That is a facet of life in the boondocks: the inevitable immersion in local superstitions and mythological creatures. While I don't believe in them, they color my life and inhabit my art: the asuwang, tikbalang, kapre, the mananangal.

So. . .
The Doña Concha mansion is closed for ghost bloggers and October hunts for haunted houses.

If there were ever ghosts, they have long gone. The caretaker has been warned, threatened, to no longer spread ghostly lies.

Perhaps, the White House at Pulang Lupa is the better destination.