A LEGEND OF THE COCONUT TREE
trusted maid and asked her to lead her to
The Maguindanaons have a rich
collection of folk stories which they call
tudtol. One of these tells about the origin
of the coconut, and it goes this way:
Once there was a kingdom in
ancient Mindanao known as
Bangonansa-Pulangui (“kingdom by the
river”), which was ruled by a just and kind
sultan. Aside from its prosperity, the
kingdom was shown far and wide for the
beauty of Putri Timbang-Namat, the
sultan’s only daughter. She was the most
beautiful and charming woman of her
time. her name alone signified lady of
grace.
The admirers of Putri Timbang-
Namat came from across the seven
seas, but she did not care for any of
them. The kind sultan, touched by their
persistence, one day tried to intervene in
behalf of the seven suitors, asking his
daughter to choose from among them the
man she would marry.
“My darling daughter,” he said, “I
need a son to succeed me when I die. I
wish that before I close my eyes, I would
see you married.” But the princess was
not moved by her father’s pleas.
Months passed. The sultan finally
summoned the suitors to a conference.
They all agreed to hold a tournament to
determine who among them was worthy
of the princess’ love.
When the princess learned about
it, she was stricken with fear, but she said
to herself, “Nobody can decide my future
by myself and God.”
Fuming with anger, she called her
the palace garden. There she met the
young and handsome gardener Wata-
Mama, whom she favored among her
suitors. Secretly, the two young lovers
spend some moments together. Nobody
knew of this love affair except the
princess’ maid.
When the princess told him about
the tournament and her fears about the
results, Wata-Mama decided to reveal
his past to her. “I am a prince myself,” he
said, “and my real name is Tsemedtsen-
sa-Alongan (‘he whose power could
eclipse the brightness of the sun’). I was
separated from my parents when I was
three. Since then, I have not seen them.
The last news I heard about my father
was that he was put to death by my
greedy uncle who has taken over the
sultanate.”
The princess covered her
beloved’s mouth with her gently hand
and said, “Whoever you are and
wherever you come from are not
important to me. What is important is that
we love each other.”
The lovers decided at last to flee
to another land. As they were preparing
their escape, however, one of the
sultan’s generals learned of their plan.
The general was secretly in love with the
princess and was therefore concerned
about her fate. So, that night, in the dark
corner of the palace, he and two of his
trusted aides waited for the young lovers.
When the lovers were about to
leave the palace grounds, the general
emerged from the shadows, struck Wata-
Mama down with his bladed weapon, and
severed his head. The princess did not
allow herself to be overcome by fear. She
jumped to where the head of her beloved
rolled, picked it up, and wrapped it
tenderly with her veil.
Moments later, the sultan and
hundreds of palace guards appeared on
the scene. The general was taken
prisoner along with his aides, while the
princess, who stood there holding the
severed head of her beloved, was
brought back to her room.
For nine days and nights, the
princess kept the vigil beside the head
which she placed on her bed. She locked
herself up in her room so that no one
could take it from her, not even her father.
The sultan was worried. One day,
he convinced the princess to allow him to
enter her room. Then he said, “My
daughter, please allow me to bury the
head of your loved one. He can never be
at peace with God while you keep his
head unburied.”
The princess finally agreed,
saying, “Father, I will allow you to bury it,
but please bury it beneath my window
where I can watch it every day and night.”
Thus, the severed head of Wata-
Mama was finally interred. Early one
morning, while the princess was
watching the spot, she saw a tiny plant
growing from the ground. Suddenly, the
once tiny bud grew into a tree until it
reached the height of the window where
the princess was sitting. The strange
incident aroused the princess’ curiosity.
She went on watching the tree far into the
night until her maid persuaded her to go
to bed.
The next morning, the princess
again watched the tall majestic tree.
Wonders of wonders, she noticed with
great surprise that the tree already had
ripened fruit – a round fruit of the size of
a man’s head.
The Cotabato ballad singers say
that fruit was the first coconut on Earth.
When the coconut is unhusked, the shell
looks like the bald pate of a man with a
pair of eyes and a prominent mouth. They
say that the coconut shell does not have
hair because the people of long ago did
not allow their hair to grow long. They
shaved their hair close to the scalp.
A VISAYAN CREATION MYTH
In the beginning there were two
gods, Captan and Maguayan. They
created the earth and all living things.
Once, Captan planted a bamboo in a
garden. The plant grew into a tall tree that
swayed gracefully in the breeze. Then,
one day, it broke into two sections, and
out stepped a man and a woman. To the
man the gods gave the name Sicalac,
and that is why men have been called
lalaki; the woman they called Sicavay,
and thenceforth women have been called
babaye.
After some time, the man asked
the woman to marry him, for there were
no people in the world. Sicavay was
reluctant in accepting his proposal,
however, saying that they were brother
and sister, born of the same reed, with
only one node between them. Eventually,
they agreed to seek the advice of the
tunas of the sea and the doves of the air.
They also consulted the earthquake, who
told them that it was necessary for them
to marry so that the world would be filled
with people. And so, they became
husband and wife.
Soon after, they had a son whom
they called Sibu. A daughter who was
born to them next was named Samar.
Sibu and Samar married and had a
daughter, Luplupan. She married
Pandaguan, the second son of the first
couple, Sicalac and Sicavay. They had a
son whom they named Anoranor.
Pandaguan was the first to invent
the fishing net. The first time he used it
he caught a shark and brought it ashore,
thinking that it would not die. But the
shark did not survive for long out of water.
Great was Panduguan’s grief. He cried
out loudly to the gods, blaming them for
letting his plaything die when no one had
ever died before.
It is said that the god Captan,
weary after his day’s work, sent the flies
to find out why Pandaguan was making
such a loud lamentation. But the flies
refused to obey him, saying that they
were busy storing honey. For this
disobedience, they were condemned to
scavenge among filthy and rotten things
from then on.
Captan then sent the weevil, who
brought back the news of the shark’s
death. Pandaguan’s behavior greatly
displeased Captan. He and Maguayan
made a thunderbold with which they
struck Pandaguan dead. The young man
stayed in the infernal regions for thirty
days, at the end of which time the gods
took pity on him, brought him back to life,
and returned him to the world.
While Pandaguan was away, his
wife Luplupan became the concubine of
Maracoyrun. People say that the practice
of concubinage then started with
Luplupan.
When Pandaguan returned home,
he did not find his wife there. She had
been invited by Maracoyrun to feast upon
a pig which he had stolen. People say
that this was the first theft committed in
the world.
Pandaguan then sent Anoranor to
fetch his mother, but she only laughed at
her son and refused to go home, saying
that the dead never return to the world. At
this answer, Pandaguan became angry
and went back to the infernal regions,
vowing never to return to the world. The
old folks say that had Luplupan obeyed
Pandaguan’s summons, he had not gone
back to the infernal regions, all the dead
would come back to life.
HOW PILANDOK BECAME A SULTAN
A favorite character of Maranaw
tales is Pilandok. He is to the Maranaws
what Juan Tamad, Juan Pusong, or Juan
Osong is to the Christian communities in
Luzon and the Visayas. There are
several stories about him. Some portray
him as a bungling, bumbling dimwit;
others, as a brave hero.
Here is one popular story about
him. Pilandok was once sentenced by the
ruling sultan to be placed in a cage and
thrown into the sea. By some luck, he
was able to escape from his undersea
prison. Swimming ashore, he went home,
changed his wet clothes, and presented
himself to the sultan dressed as a rajah.
 “What? You alive?” exclaimed the
sultan. “How did you manage to get out
of the cage?”
Pilandok smiled and answered: “I
have come to thank you, O Sultan, for
throwing me into the sea. When my cage
touched the bottom, I saw my rich
ancestors who were only too happy to
see me. They opened my cage and took
me to their undersea kingdom. My
tongue cannot describe the treasures
that I saw there – precious stones, gold,
and silver! And I would have them if I
stayed. Thinking of my family here, I
asked permission to see them for the last
time before going back to live
permanently in that undersea kingdom. I
have to return at once. Goodbye then. My
relatives are waiting for me!”
“Wait,” said the sultan, very much
interested in Pilandok’s story, “Take me
with you. I would like to see my rich
ancestors, too. Surely you will not
begrudge me this favor!”
Pilandok thought it over for a
moment, “No, my Lord, I cannot do that,”
he replied. “We cannot go together. You
will have to go alone, in your own cage.”
“Then put me in one,” begged the
greedy sultan, “and drop me into the
sea.”
“It is not that I am selfish, but who
will take care of your kingdom while you
are away?” Pilandok asked.
“Suppose you stay in my place
and rule the kingdom during my
absence,” said the sultan. “It will be only
for a short time anyway. When I come
back, you may return to your ancestors.
Just help me prepare for the journey.”
Pilandok thought again. Then he
reluctantly consented to the sultan’s
plans, cautioning the latter not to reveal
their secret to anyone. The sultan called
all his followers soon after and
announced to them that he was going on
a very long journey and that he was
appointing Pilandok sultan in his
absence. Everyone was to obey every
command of the new ruler.
Pilandok then ordered that a
heavy iron cage be made. When it was
ready, he placed the sultan in it and,
loading it in a boat, dropped it into the
bottom of the sea. Of course, the sultan
never came back, and Pilandok
remained a sultan.
THE LEGEND OF MARIA MAKILING
In the province of Laguna is a
steep mountain called Makiling. Some
say it is so called because it leans to one
side. Other say this is because it is thickly
wooded with a shrub called pakiling,
whose coarse-surfaced leaves are used
by housewives for scrubbing pots and
pans and floors.
However it may have gotten its
name, it was haunted by a fairy named
Maria whom townfolk called Mariang
Makiling. It is said that in the old days she
used to come to town with a basketful of
fruit on her head which she sold in the
marketplace. The money she got for the
fruit she later distributed among the poor.
At first the people thought she was only a
woman from a different town, through her
beauty surpassed that of any other
woman they had ever seen, for her face
was soft and fair and her black hair
flowed down to her ankles.
One day, a young farmer who had
fallen in love with her beauty followed her
secretly into the woods. However, she
went so quickly through the forest growth
that he lost her. He waited for her on the
next market day, but she did not come to
town that day nor did she come on any
day thereafter.
The young man then went into the
woods to search for her but he never
came back. Some say he found her.
Some say he was lost and that he died in
the woods without seeing her again. To
this day the old folks believe Mariang
Makiling still haunts the mountain. The
mountain is covered with many fruit-
bearing trees. You may eat all the fruits
you wish but do not try to bring any of it
home. If you do, then you will lose your
way. The insects will sting you. The
thorns will scratch you. And the very
trunks of the trees will play tricks on your
eyes. Mariang Makiling will lead you
completely astray. If prudent, you will
throw away all the fruit you had intended
to take out. Also, you will turn your
clothes inside out to assure the good fairy
that you are hiding none of her fruit on
your person. Only then might Mariang
Makiling relent and lead you back on the
right trail.
THE MONKEY AND THE CROCODILE
(ZAMBAL VERSION)
One stormy day a monkey was
standing by the shore of the river,
wondering how he could get to the other
side. He could not get over by himself, for
the water was deep, and he did not know
how to swim. He looked about for some
logs, but all he saw was a large crocodile
with its mouth wide open, ready to seize
him. He was very frightened, but he said,
“O Mr. Crocodile! Pray, do not kill me!
Spare my life, and I will lead you to a
place where you can get as many
monkeys as will feed you all your life.”
The crocodile agreed, and the
monkey said that the place was on the
other side of the river. So, the crocodile
told him to get on his back, and he would
carry him across. Just before they
reached the bank, the monkey jumped to
land, ran as fast as he could, and climbed
up a tree where his mate was. The
crocodile could not follow, of course, so
he returned to the water saying, “The
time will come when you shall pay.”
Not long afterwards, the monkey
found the crocodile lying motionless, as if
dead. About the place were some low
chili pepperbushes loaded with
numerous bright-red fruits like ornaments
on a Christmas tree. The monkey
approached the crocodile and began
playing with his tail; but the crocodile
made a sudden spring and seized the
monkey so tightly that he could not
escape.
“Think first, think first!” said the
monkey. “Mark you, Mr. Crocodile! I am
now the cook of his Majesty, the King.
Those bright-red pieces of bread have
been entrusted to my care,” and the
monkey pointed to the pepper shrubs.
“The moment you kill me, the King will
arrive with thousands of well-armed
troops and will punish you.”
The crocodile was frightened by
what the monkey said. “Mr. Monkey, I did
not mean to harm you.” he said. “I will set
you free if you will let me eat only as
many pieces of bread as will relieve my
hunger.”
“Eat all you can,” responded the
monkey kindly, “Take as many you
please. They are free to you.”
Without another words, the
crocodile let the monkey go, and rushed
at the heavily laden bushes. The monkey
slipped away secretly and climbed up a
tree where he could enjoy the
discomfiture of his voracious friend. The
crocodile began to cough, sneeze, and
scratch his tongue. When he rushed to
the river to cool his mouth, the monkey
only laughed at him.
Moral: Use your own judgment; do
not rely on the counsel of others for it is
the father of destruction and ruin.
OLD MAN OF THE MOUND
The tianak lives in wild grass, said
the Wayfarer, but the old man whom we
call lakay among us in the north and who
is called matanda by the people in the
south lives in earth-mound.
Take head now, said the
Wayfarer, when passing near a mound to
stretch your hand before you, saying “Old
man of the mound, if it pleases you, let
me pass.”
And why is that? said the little boy.
Son, said the Wayfarer, the lakay
is a very old man and has very weak
eyes, especially in the daytime. Being a
creature of night, he is not visible to
mortal eyes. If you come upon him
without warning, he may not be able to
scramble out of your way quickly enough,
and you might unknowingly step on him.
That will make him very angry indeed.
The little boy laughed.
Son, it is no laughing matter, said
the Wayfarer. Once a man was hurrying
home across the field and did not notice
a mount of his way and he stepped on the
face of the matanda of the mount and did
not know it. Arriving home, the man ate a
big supper, after which he lit a bit cigar
and sat himself before the window with
his feet up on the sill. He felt a tug at his
big toe. Looking out the window, he
called, “Who’s there?” but no one
answered from the dark. It is a neighbor’s
prank, thought the man, and he went to
bed.
When he got up in the morning, he
noticed something queer with his toe. It
was not swollen nor painful, but it had
grown twice as long as the other. When
he tried to find sympathy among the
neighbors, they only laughed at him and
said, “Poor man, the matanda or lakay
has played a trick on you.”