I found myself on this postcard-pretty island on a Good Friday a few years ago for some speculative business interests. On Easter Week break, the islands around the archipelago are usually full of vacationing people. But not Siquijor. It was quiet and tranquil and that suited me just fine. Being away from the maddening hordes that flock to the beaches this time of the year was my idea of a real vacation. And so I set out to meet the people with whom I was to do business with on the island. I had heard many stories of the do’s and mostly the don’ts about Siquijor. Like, never give a stranger your real name; never accept food or drink from people you don’t know or have just met; never look a “mamba barang” (sorcerer) in the eye…etc. I even heard of people getting spells cast on them with some actually suffering a slow agonizing death. Well, I like to think of myself as having a firm footing in the 21st century and consider this sort of local lore merely entertaining.

On my second day, I was driven to a hillside house where my island guide said a good or “white magic” healer lived. I decided to try a session with the old man. His method consisted of rubbing a glass jar filled with pure mountain water all over your head, shoulders, chest, back and arms while he blew gently on a small copper tube which was inside the water jar. Impurities then would slowly materialize in the water in the form of little dark pebble-like objects in varying sizes; also, the water would slowly get murky, presumably from the impurities. As my turn came, I checked the glass jar