Episode 50 – Betel Juice – Myths Your Teacher Hated

Episode 50 Show Notes

Source: Filipino Mythology

This week on MYTH, we’ll meet a Filipino demigod that would fit in pretty well with the Greeks. You’ll discover that you’re right not to trust your parents, that alligators make great boats, and that ghosts like to collect weird things. Then, in Gods and Monsters, you’ll meet a terrifying ghoul that can only be kept at bay by bringing a knife to a maternity ward. This is the Myths Your Teacher Hated podcast, where I tell the stories of cultures from around the world in all of their original, bloody, uncensored glory. Modern tellings of these stories have become dry and dusty, but I’ll be trying to breathe new life into them. This is Episode 50, “Betel Juice”. As always, this episode is not safe for work.
In this episode, we’re going to journey to the tropics for the first story we’ve covered so far from the Philippines, thanks to the collected tales in Philippine Folk Tales from Mabel Cook Cole. This particular story comes from the Tinguan people and, according to Cole, many of the characters are heroes from days gone by whose exploits have grown to mythical proportion over the many, many tellings.
There was once a beautiful woman named Aponibolinayen who married Aponitolau, and together they had a son named Dumalawi. Aponitolau was a mythical hero, considered divine or semi-divine in several stories, though like with the Greeks, being a hero doesn’t mean he’s not also a dick. He’s got some sky-god powers (as we’ll see later), so this might be another example of my two favorite maxims: sky gods are assholes and gods make shitty dads.
By the time that Dumalawi had become a young man, Aponitolau had grown to hate him and, in a particularly vicious bout of anger one day (the story doesn’t say why), he resolved to murder his son with just the faintest veneer of plausible deniability in case anyone (like his wife) dared to ask why he was being such an asshat to his own kid. He spent the evening plotting and, in the morning, told his son to sharpen his knife. They were going to go cut down some bamboo.
Dumalawi, being a dutiful son, did as his father asked. He returned, sharpened knife in hand, and went to the grove where the bamboo grew thick. Together, they cut down many long sticks of bamboo, then Aponitolau told Dumalawi to sharpen their ends. After finishing the first piece, Dumalawi looked quizzically at his father. “Um, dad? Why are we turning these into spears?” His father didn’t answer, refusing to speak again until all of the bamboo was deadly sharp.
They took the bamboo spears to a clearing and stood facing one another with a stack of deadly shafts at each of their feet. “Now, son, you throw your spears at me and I’ll throw mine at you, and we’ll see which of us is the braver man.” “That’s insane, dad! I don’t think I ever said anything to challenge your courage, but if you’re set on this, then you throw first. If you’re out to kill me, I guess you might as well get on with it.”
Apolitolau didn’t need to be told twice. One by one, he hurled the spears at his son with lethal force, but Dumalawi was quick and lucky, and he managed to dodge or side-step every throw. When his hand clutched only empty air, Apolitolau sighed and straightened. Fair was fair. “Okay, your turn, son.” Dumalawi shook his head, tears glistening in his eyes at the certain knowledge that his father was trying to murder him, even if he had no idea why. “I can’t, dad. You are my father, and I cannot kill you.”
His plan hadn’t gone the way he’d hoped, and he wasn’t quite prepared to simply slit his son’s throat, so the two went back home for dinner. Aponibolinayen had prepared a delicious meal for them, and Apolitolau ate heartily, but Dumalawi only picked at his food. Sorrow sat in his belly like a stone, and the shock of having his own father trying to kill him turned each bite to ashes in his mouth. He hoped that this would just be some passing madness, and his dad would leave him be the next day, but something in his father’s eyes told him that this was far from over.
The next day, Apolitolau woke Dumalawi early. “Come on, son. Today, we will go to our house out in the fields. It needs repairs if we’re going to be able to use it when the rainy season comes.” Resigned to what would surely be another day of attempted filicide, Dumalawi followed his father. Together, they went out into the distant field to the small house built there. “I’m thirsty, Dumalawi. Years ago, I buried a jar of basi (a liquor made from boiled sugar cane) to ferment. It should be just about read by now. Go and dig it up so we can have a drink before we get started.”
Dumalawi hurried to obey, half expecting this to be a trap, but the jar of liquor was right where his father had said it would be. He brought it to his father, and they each tasted the potent alcohol. It was perfect, and they were both thirsty, so they each had three coconut shells full of the strong drink. Dumalawi was young and had never had anything approaching this kind of proof before, so he went from sober to shit-faced almost immediately. Apolitolau, on the other hand, had a pretty high tolerance and so he didn’t get more than buzzed. He watched as his son staggered a few feet away before collapsing hard to the ground and passing out. He bared his teeth in what was more snarl than smile and summoned his magical powers. I mentioned that he was a semi-divine mythic hero before, which sort of explains how he was able to summon a massive storm to the field well outside of the normal rainy season. The waters fell in a solid sheet, swirling around Dumalawi’s sleeping form and carrying him away with the rushing waters.
Through some miracle (maybe a different god was trying to protect him from his murderous dick of a father), he survived being passed out cold in a raging flood and awoke hours later, drenched and shivering. He sat up, holding his aching head, and his heart dropped into his stomach. He had no idea where he was. Dumalawi was sitting in a massive field that stretched out beyond the horizon in every direction. There were no trees or houses or any living thing whatsoever aside from himself in that drenched, dead field. The sense of despair and loneliness that had taken root in his soul when he realized his father was trying to kill him blossomed now to bear poisonous fruit. He was alone and abandoned, and he feared that he was going to die out here, lost and forgotten.
Fortunately, since his father was semi-divine with magical powers, Dumalawi had magical powers of his own. At his will, many betel nuts grew in the barren field, a palm nut with a caffeine-like burst of energy when chewed, leaving the chewer with a deep red or purple smile. In magically fast time, the nuts grew into full-sized plants, flowering and bearing golden fruit. Dumalawi smiled. “Good. Now I can scatter the betel nuts, and they’ll turn into people who will be my new neighbors.”
In the middle of the night, he rose and cut the golden betel nuts from the bushes, chopping them into many small pieces and scattering the fragments across the field in all directions. He went back to bed after that and, when he awoke, he heard many people talking outside the house he was sleeping in (I have no idea where this house came from, but I’m assuming more magical powers) as well as roosters crowing at the rising sun. Grinning at his success, Dumalawi went out into the morning to meet all of his new friends.
He met everyone that morning, but one person in particular occupied his thoughts long after he left their yard in the brand-new village (where it doesn’t seem that the brand-new people had any idea that they were newly sprung from magical nuts). He spoke at length with a beautiful maiden named Dapilisan and her parents, and she was all he could think of, even after leaving to meet the rest of the village. Before the morning was over, he had decided that he loved her and wanted to marry her. He went back to their home and asked her parents for their permission. They were hesitant at first, though only because her parents feared that Dumalawi’s parents might not like the match. He quickly explained that his parents had tried to murder him and didn’t really give a shit about him or what he did anymore, and this put their minds at ease and they consented.
They married not long after, and the couple decided to perform a ceremony for the spirits. Dapilisan sent for the betel nuts covered in gold, which were brought to her. With this next bit, I don’t know if it’s because Dapilisan had magical powers for some reason, if the betel nuts themselves were magic, or if she had some affinity for the nuts since she had sprung from them not so long ago, but somehow she had magic. She ordered the nuts to go and oil themselves, then to go and invite all the people in the world to come to the ceremony. Shockingly, they do exactly that.
Back at Dumalawi’s childhood home, Aponibolinayen sat alone in her house mourning the loss of her son. Out of nowhere, she was seized with the desire to chew a betel nut, which wasn’t something she usually cared for. “What’s happening to me? I haven’t eaten anything since Dumalawi disappeared, and I didn’t expect to find my appetite again until he returned.” Shrugging and not willing to fight the urge, strange as it was, she stood and pulled her basket down off the wall. Inside, she found a betel nut covered in gold. She laid it on the counter and picked up a knife to cut it, but something strange happened – the betel nut spoke up.
“Please don’t cut me, miss. I have come to invite you to the ceremony being hosted by Dumalawi and Dapilisan, who are husband and wife.” This news made Aponibolinayen happy for the first time since Dumalawi had vanished. She knew now that her son lived, and she fully intended to accept his invitation and go see him. She told everyone in her village to wash their hair and prepare to go to the rite, and everyone thought this a fine idea. They washed their hair and cleaned their clothes, then started for the new home of Dumalawi. Aponitolau followed the crowd, but he alone did not seem happy at the prospect of seeing the young man alive and well. He’d been ecstatic when it seemed that he’d successfully killed his son without arousing much suspicion (or at least nothing anyone was willing to confront him with), but his son had apparently survived somehow. The others steered clear of him, for he looked like a madman.
They came to a river, which looked impassable, but Dumalawi had thought ahead. He sent a huge group of alligators to take them across safely. It went fine for everyone right up until Aponitolau climbed on the back of one of the gators. It bucked wildly, then dived into the water, whipping its body sharply and throwing Aponitolau back onto the riverbank. Everyone else had made it safely across, leaving Aponitloau alone on the wrong side. He screamed and raged until Dumalawi sent another alligator to carry him across with everyone else. Together, they went on to Dumalawi’s village.
Once everyone was settled, Dumalawi had food brought out, and Dapilisan passed basi around in a small jar that looked like a fist made of clay. She went person to person, and each guest drank a cupful of the sweet wine, but the jar was still a third full at the end. Once everyone had a chance to eat and drink, Aponibolinayen stood to speak, and everyone else fell silent. She told the crowd that he was glad to have Dapilisan for a daughter-in-law, and how happy she was to have her son back, and happier than he had ever been. “Now that we are all here, we are going to pay the marriage price according to custom, and shall fill the spirit house nine times with different kinds of jars.” She raised her face to the heavens and her voice as well. “You spirits who live in different springs, gather the jars to pay the price for the marriage of my son Dumalawi to Dapilisan!”
The spirits did as they were commanded, bringing jars and jars and jars until they had filled the spirit house nine times. Aponibolinayen smiled then, and told Dapilisan’s parents that she thought they had paid the customary price. Dalonagan, her mother, shook her head. “No there is still more to pay.” “O…kay. Tell us what else is required, and I will gladly pay it.” Dalonagan summoned her pet spider. “Hey, little spider buddy – go all around the town and as you go, spin a thread. Aponibolinayen will have to string golden beads along the spider silk.”
The spider did as it was ordered, spinning a thread throughout the town. Aponibolinayen again summoned the spirits, sending them to gather golden beads and then stringing them along the delicate spider silk. When they were done, Dalonagan took the end and hung from it. Magically, it didn’t break, so Dalonagan declared the debt all paid. The people cheered the good news, then set to the task of feasting and partying, which lasted well into the night. Aponibolinayen asked Dumalawi to consider coming back to their village when the party was over, but he refused. He preferred to live here, in the new village, with his wife and her people of the betel nut.
And…that’s how it ends. It’s pretty anticlimactic, and it pretty much resolves nothing. Dumalawi’s father still seems to hate him and is never punished for his attempted murder of his own son. Multiple people bust out surprise magical powers which are interesting, but don’t seem to have much of a narrative purpose other than resolving insanely specific situations that are pretty much custom made for those specific powers or, alternatively, could be solved in other, much simpler ways. The one thing it does do, and does well, is tell the story of a man, abandoned by the father who should have been helping him, who goes out into the world to make his own way and find happiness for himself. He literally creates his home and his future from nothing. With Dumalawi and Dapilisan enjoying wedded bliss, it’s time for Gods and Monsters. This is a segment where I get into a little more detail about the personalities and history of one of the gods or monsters from this week’s pantheon that was not discussed in the main story. This week’s monster is the matruculan.
Pregnancy can be a dangerous affair, even in the age of modern medicine, and it was so much worse in centuries past. Perhaps that explains why the Philippines had multiple monsters that were said to prey on pregnant women specifically. The matruculan is one of such horror, and to my mind at least, one of the worst.
The matruculan is a sexual predator, and I mean that in every possible sense of the phrase. He is invisible, and will seek out the beds of sleeping virgins in the night. When he finds one, he will slip into her bedchamber and rape her, usually without waking her up (though there have been stories of encounters similar to that of the night hag or the incubus, where the victim awakens in the middle of the attack, unable to move). None of the stories I have found give any way to keep the matruculan away, which makes this whole thing all the more terrifying.
Being supernatural, these attacks will pretty much always result in pregnancy, which the poor girl or woman will be at a loss to explain since they never actually engaged in consensual sex (not that everyone will necessarily believe her, even though she’s the victim). It was not uncommon for victims of these attacks to be shamed or ostracized by their families and neighbors for being raped by a supernatural monster, but unfortunately, the horror has only begun. When nine months have passed, and the fetus is just about ready to be born, the matruculan will return.
As she lies there, burdened with a baby she may not want and with no partner to support her in an unforgiving world, the matruculan will again slip into her room, invisible and unnoticed. He will slink over to the pregnant woman and dig his claws deep into her vulnerable belly, ripping her open to reveal the fetus still in her womb, which he will pull out and feast upon before her terrified, agonized eyes. Once the bloody fetus is wholly consumed, he will turn his attention to the dying mother and, even as she still lives and begs for help, he will eat her too.
It is a deeply disturbing image, and one that I can only assume was used to try to explain away perfectly normal pregnancies out of wedlock as well as to provide some explanation to the horror of a bloody death in the birthing bed, especially since the matruculan has also been known to feed on married women. He prefers unmarried virgins as his victims, at least in part because they don’t have a spouse to protect them as they give birth. The only known protection from the matruculan’s hunger as the baby comes is to have the husband stand over the woman as she struggles through the pain of labor, swinging a balisong, a type of butterfly knife, wildly over her belly to prevent the invisible predator from getting close enough to attack.
The stories don’t really address what a half human/half matruculan baby looks like, but perhaps the story is also a way to explain miscarriages due to birth defects. Regardless, the matruculan is one of the ghastliest nasties we’ve thus far encountered, and I can’t help but wonder how strong the fear of this supernatural beastie would have to be for a woman to agree to let her husband swing a wickedly sharp knife wildly just above her as she pushes out a baby.
That’s it for this episode of Myths Your Teacher Hated. Keep up with new episodes on our Facebook page, on iTunes, on Stitcher, on TuneIn, and on Spotify, or you can follow us on Twitter as @HardcoreMyth and on Instagram as Myths Your Teacher Hated Pod. You can also find news and episodes on our website at myths your teacher hated dot com. If you like what you’ve heard, I’d appreciate a review on iTunes. These reviews really help increase the show’s standing and let more people know it exists. If you have any questions, any gods or monsters you’d want to learn about, or any ideas for future stories that you’d like to hear, feel free to drop me a line. I’m trying to pull as much material from as many different cultures as possible, but there are all sorts of stories I’ve never heard, so suggestions are appreciated. The theme music is by Tiny Cheese Puff, whom you can find on fiverr.com.
Next time, we’ll be covering the Norse version of the meme with Spiderman pointing at Spiderman per listener request. You’ll see that gloves make bad homes, that it’s rude to try and kill your new friends, and that Thor isn’t the sharpest tool in the shed. Then, in Gods and Monsters, you’ll meet the goddess who used a plow to create a Danish island, resulting in a Danish king. That’s all for now. Thanks for listening.