Do you believe in ghosts?
Experiencing a supernatural event, a seemingly paranormal phenomena, or simply an occurrence that is simply unusual by everyday standards, does not immediately bring us to conclude the existence of “spirits” or “ghosts.” When the phenomena cannot be reviewed and verified with evidence, we think of it as a figment of our imagination: It was unusual, and probably even incredible, and no, it does not happen in real life—and especially not to me! But our senses beg to be heard and our mind obliges. We now have a little skirmish between truth and what could have been only in the imagination.
Ghosts stories in my industry unfold as early as the predesign phase. Investigations of a property to be designed for will sometimes elicit a line of “may namamahay diyan” (someone lives there) or “huwag niyo yan galawin, may magagalit” (don’t touch that, someone will be upset) from the nervous lips of a cautious bantay (caretaker) who seems to know whomever else he “shares” the property with. The subject of caution would either be a large shrub, a rock formation, and more often a mature tree that has anchored itself to the property as its own, including its entities.
A lot owner’s preparation prior to construction will include rituals to ward off these “spirits,” or at the very least, to appeal for their tolerance as construction work begins and disturbance is inevitable. A new structure will eventually encroach into what was once solely their domain. Hopefully, they will cohabitate peacefully with their new “neighbors.”
The same happens with spaces within existing structures: when left undisturbed or unoccupied for quite sometime, they are taken over and inhabited by “lost souls.” “Binabahayan,” (occupied by an entity) we would be told.
Construction workers are usually witness to such otherworldly activity. I remember an old house we were renovating: its basement was dark, cold and damp. Although it opened to a rear garden, there was something eerie about the space. It was one of those places that managed to send a cool and mild chill down my spine. This was a space we were going to expose to more sunlight: brighten, lighten and open up to the outside so it becomes uninviting to the entities that enjoyed the seclusion.
During construction, workers lamented that things moved on their own, that doors opened freely without the wind, and a large dark man occupied a room on the upper floor. I have to admit that it made my senses more acutely perceptive and my defenses more vigilant as I moved around during site inspections. Once, I experienced a door bang shut right behind me. There was no wind. Or maybe there was none at that particular moment of my realization. Maybe it was actually blowing earlier. I never really figured it out.
Fortunately, I grew up in a home that had its fair share of strange occurrences: lights and air-conditioners switching on their own, horseplay and its rumbling sounds heard upstairs when no one was really there. My grandfather, who lived with us, would speak of a child that came in and out of his room, and sometimes—to his exasperation—hid in his bathroom. Was my grandfather senile? No. Just quite old, weak and hard of hearing. My father (and brother at another occasion) had felt his mattress recede in different spots, as if someone was walking on it as he slept. My brother concurred to the same experience.
We invited a “psychic” to come visit and investigate the phenomena, and she claimed that we had a lost soul—that of a little boy—in our home. Ours was not a dark, heavy home, as the clichéd ghost-story spaces would be. Ours had bright and airy spaces, sizable rooms where sunlight streamed through large windows and bathed our spaces with brightness. Our playroom was littered with toys, music was always playing, and people were always around. It did not seem to be the place where ghosts would dwell.
Some souls occasionally make their presence felt in our spaces. But others—like our little boy—took our spaces for his own. Figment of our imagination? Genuine phenomena? We took it for what it was. I believe in ghosts.