Umali Auditorium is flanked by two bridges. A few feet on its left is the taken-for granted Palma Bridge. To many, it’s just a bridge. But I have always been fascinated by its charming pre-war old-world flavor. It is also said to be haunted by a headless priest – beheaded by the Japanese during the Second World War – that appears after midnight. The specter was not confirmed by my guide, but then again he doesn’t’ wait around for it, either.

Further behind the auditorium is the Molawin Bridge. Molawin Bridge looks sleek and ultra-modern compared to Palma Bridge. What it lacks in architecture it makes up for the view. I have a fear of heights but I could never resist taking a quick peek at the creek running below it.

During the rainy season the creek becomes a river overrun by muddy water from the mountains. In the summer it becomes a gentler version, its water clearer and the dramatic huge boulders, typical of mountain river systems, framed by lush greeneries look so beautiful.

It only takes seconds before my vertigo kicks in, forcing me to pull back and step off the pedestrian lane into the middle of the bridge. Fortunately, it doesn’t have much vehicular traffic. Because it is out of the way it doesn’t attract too much pedestrian traffic as well, which I think is a shame.

By my estimate Molawin is about three times as long as the older bridge but it has been christened as the Never Ending Bridge for a different reason. It was said that elemental spirits would sometimes play tricks on people who cross it at the stroke of midnight. They would walk for hours yet never reach the other end until they take off their clothes and wear them inside out. I often cross that bridge at night on my way home from the library. It does seem to take longer to cross it in the dark than in the light day but I never had to do the clothes thing.

At one end of the bridge, just behind the main library is an arch that bookmarkes something no one hardly remembers. A stone monument that had weathered the natural elements but had been eroded from people’s memory.

At the other end is a very steep road that leads to the Forestry Campus. Completing this first 50 meters is the hardest part of the two kilometer road if you choose to hike all the way because the road is sharply inclined before the road levels off right in front of the College Health Center.

The Center or Infirmary is infamous for its supposedly high patient death rate. It is rumored to be a ground zero for ghosts of patients who allegedly died needlessly from bungled medical practice. At night this steep road between Molawin Bridge and the Infirmary was also one of the most poorly lit.

Public jeepneys to the Forestry Campus usually stop after 10pm. One night, I lost track of time while with my friends and I had no choice but to walk home. In broad daylight walking home was one of my favorite things to do. People thought I was either too broke or too cheap to take public transportation. In reality walking is my yoga. It soothes me. My mind was most lucid during these walks. At night, however, it was an unpleasant chore and I could not wait for it to end.

As I neared the top end of the road I heard rustling sounds behind me. I turned around and I saw what appeared to be the right leg and the right arm of a child in the act of climbing a nearby tree. But being past midnight I didn’t think it was an ordinary child. I wasn’t even sure it was human. I stood there experiencing for the first time the expression “paralyzed with fear.”

And then the thing changed his position so that it is now completely behind the tree. So it knew I was watching “him”. And I knew it was watching me. I wanted to turn around and run but I was afraid it might chase after me. Being on the steepest part of the road I thought that would put me at a great disadvantage

The only thing I could do was walk backwards very slowly up the road I making it twice as hard. But as soon as I got to the level part I took off and never stopped trotting till I reached my dorm – two kilometers away. Had the track coach saw me that night I would have made the team.

The next day I was inundated by a slew of explanations. From a very human child catching roosting birds (in the dark and past midnight?). To a tyanak, an elemental that looks as nasty as Chuckie the homicidal doll (about the same size and temperament, too). To a kapre, a tobacco-smoking giant who gets the blame whenever somebody dies in his sleep (the kapre allegedly sits on his sleeping victim’s face and sticks his dick and balls inside the person’s mouth and nostrils until the victim suffocates).

To a tikbalang, a horse-man creature (if you’re guttsy enough to wrestle with one and manage to pluck a strand of hair from its mane the tikbalang becomes a loyal slave until you free it). I never saw my mystery monster again because I never passed by that road at night since.

Our next destination, the Student Union building more popularly known as the SU. I had my first dinner there. It was my first time to be away from home and I felt a bit lost. I remember eating a cube of mint-flavored gelatin partly to celebrate my independence but mainly to calm my nerves. Mint-flavored gelatin was my firs comfort food and I ended up eating a lot of gelatin there for the next few weeks.

The SU is the recreational center of the campus. Aside from the cafeteria it housed a bowling lane and a billiard hall, a bookstore and provided a lot of space for student club meetings. And according to my guide it also housed not one, not two but three ghosts.

“All of them are on the second floor,” my guide told me. “One is a child; the other is a former school paper editor who disappeared, another victim of martial law. He still haunts the editorial staff room.”

But I found the third ghost to be most intriguing. He described it is a disembodied hand that occupies the building’s Function Room. The hand, he said, likes to startle him by suddenly appearing just inches away from his face in the “Stop in the name of Love” position made famous by Diana Ross and the Supremes.

(To be continued…)