Philippine Folktale — Los Siete Pecados, by Filomena Alesna Cuenco

Filom­e­na Alesna Cuenco

 

Mes­sage from Cecil­ia Brainard: I am hap­py to fea­ture a retelling of a pop­u­lar folk tale from the Philip­pines, called Los Siete Peca­dos, which trans­lates into the Sev­en Sins.  It is an ori­gin sto­ry of sev­en small islands near Iloi­lo in the Visayas area of the Philippines.

I came across this folk retelling by my mater­nal grand­moth­er when I did research about the fam­i­lies of my moth­er and father and found a wealth of old newsclip­pings now archived in some libraries. The retelling by my grand­moth­er was orig­i­nal­ly pub­lished in Bag-ong Kusog, Jan­u­ary 22, 1932.  This peri­od­i­cal was ran by my great-grand­moth­er Reme­dios Lopez Cuen­co, the wid­ow of Mar­i­ano Albao Cuen­co. They were the par­ents of Sen­a­tor Mar­i­ano Jesus Cuen­co (my mater­nal grand­fa­ther), Arch­bish­op of Jaro Jose Maria Cuen­co, Rep­re­sen­ta­tive Miguel Cuen­co, Reme­dios Cuen­co Bor­romeo, and oth­er chil­dren most of whom died at infancy.

Mar­i­ano Albao had found­ed the Imprenta Rosario (the printing/publishing press), but when he died, leav­ing Reme­dios wid­owed at the age of 39, she took over the pub­lish­ing busi­ness. Her chil­dren helped her run the business.

From my moth­er’s sto­ries, I had been under the impres­sion that Filom­e­na Alesna Cuen­co was qui­et and spent most of her time in the kitchen, away from the more bom­bas­tic and loud Cuen­co clan.  When I came across this folk tale retelling by Filom­e­na,. I had to men­tal­ly adjust my image of her: she too helped run the Imprenta Rosario.

Filom­e­na’s retelling was in deep Visayan;  Alfre­do Zano­ria trans­lat­ed my grand­moth­er’s work into Eng­lish. Alfre­do is a retired Geol­o­gist, for­mer­ly with the Cal­i­for­nia EPA.

LOS SIETE PECADOS

A Mem­o­rable Tale of Sev­en Maid­ens in the Sto­ry of The Islands of Sev­en Sins

by FILOMENA ALESNA CUENCO

First pub­lished in Bag-ong Kusog, Jan­u­ary 22, 1932

IF WE STUDY THE MAP of the Philip­pines, we will notice that not far from Guimaras Island and just across Iloi­lo har­bor are sev­en lit­tle islands pro­trud­ing out of the sea.  These are known as LOS SIETE PECADOS or SEVEN SINS based a sto­ry from the ancient past.

It is told from from very long ago but always fresh in the mem­o­ry of Hilon­gos because it con­tin­ues to be hand­ed down by grand­par­ents to par­ents, and by par­ents to the rest of kin, about a wid­ow that once lived in the island of Guimaras.   Every­one looked up to her, not for her wealth but for her gold­en qual­i­ties, fore­most being that she lived a life of virtue, integri­ty and kind­ness.  A role mod­el for oth­er women dur­ing her time even though she was une­d­u­cat­ed, this woman had sev­en chil­dren, all maidens.

My chil­dren – she would advise them – your most pre­cious trea­sure as a woman is your kind­ness, your integri­ty, and your puri­ty of spir­it.  Even if you mar­ry a wealthy man, peo­ple would have no regard for you unless your spir­it is pure and your rep­u­ta­tion is unblem­ished.   It doesn’t mat­ter whether you get mar­ried or not; it doesn’t mat­ter if your hus­band is poor and une­d­u­cat­ed.  All I ask is that you remain vir­tu­ous and kind.

One morn­ing the sev­en maid­ens left their home.   By the time their moth­er woke up, they were all gone.

They all went to church, said the old helper.  This made their moth­er happy.

Some­time lat­er, the sev­en maid­ens final­ly came home.  Oh, what a tragedy!  The maid­ens, whom she had always taught about the price­less­ness of virtue and good char­ac­ter, came home all dressed in skimpy clothes with neck­lines show­ing too much of their chests, and faces all grotesque­ly paint­ed with makeup.

Get away from my sight, you crea­tures of hell! – screamed the old woman.

Refus­ing to admit their mis­take, the girls defied their moth­er.  Deter­mined to do as they pleased, they decid­ed to run away from home and took off on a wood­en boat.  Just as the boat was pick­ing up speed, pow­er­ful winds blew in, accom­pa­nied by fierce light­ning.    Mon­strous waves soon tore apart the wood­en boat, tak­ing the maid­ens down into the sea.   When the storm final­ly passed and calm returned, sev­en islands had appeared on the very spot where the maid­ens dis­ap­peared.  The islands were lat­er called Sev­en Sins to remind women that Heav­en pun­ish­es those who defy their par­ents and do not under­stand that good virtue and humil­i­ty are a woman’s most pre­cious qualities.

 

TAGS: Philip­pine folk­tale, Fil­ipino folk­tale, Fil­ipino folk tale, Fil­ipino folklore