MANILA, Philippines – In circa early 1950s, whenever an amalgam of arcane and baffling folk stories were narrated by natives of Calbayog, in Samar, there were two particular Christmas incidents that Calbayognons preferred to talk about in whispers.

One was about the unwelcome participation of “alien” carolers whom some credulous town natives said were “residents” of that cryptic and fabled village at the eastern end of the town proper, a hilly portion called “Hamorawon.”

Narrative accounts handed down by townspeople told of any day or, more appropriately, any night starting December 16, when families residing along a preferred street were given an impromptu but mystical caroling by a group consisting of young men and women whose faces were unfamiliar to Calbayognons.

The mystery even deepened: The strange revelers sang their songs whose lyrics were in a language that was strange to Calbayognons. But the melody was plaintive and poignant, typical of Visayan compositions.

Were the lyrics in Latin? No, definitely not. Residents were familiar with many Latin words, the Catholic liturgical mass being said in that language at the time those occurrences happened.

Adding to the mysterious serenaders was the time they went caroling from house to house – during the bewitching hours which were usually between 1 a.m. and 3 a.m., the time when Calbayog would be in pitch darkness for the flickering electric service of the town was on up to midnight only. And the hopping mini-choral display by unknown minstrels was performed only in front of houses located along Umbria street.

On one occasion deep into the night, a resident said he braved taking a peek from a window hole of his house at the mystifying carolers who, he said, carried only a lamp lighted by “lana,” oil fermented from dried coconut meat. The lighting contraption almost similar to what he was using.

The emboldened eavesdropper was sure he did not recognize anyone in the group of 10 or so singers.

Another baffling coincidence: The peculiar cantors would only sing in front of houses that were located along the three blocks of Umbria street. From the Cathedral of Sts. Peter and Paul, Umbria street ends at Hamorawon, going eastward.

Oldtime families whose houses were located there were the Yrigans, Rojos, Camilons, Baldomaros, Dagumans, Diras, and the Roños.

And, two, add to that enigmatic caroling were the retelling and narration by many churchgoers who claimed they sat beside “mestizas” and “mestizos” all dressed up in all their finery attending midnight masses in the past. The locals who encountered the visitors swore their faces were unfamiliar.

In a small town then of, maybe, no more than 8,000 residents, everybody knew everybody.

At that time in the early 1950s, Church liturgy strictly set the Christmas Eve’ mass at 12 midnight. No other masses were to be celebrated before that hour.

Completely alien to Calbayognons, those Caucasian-looking “estrangeros” – after the almost-two-hour-long church rites - just mixed with the crowd, then disappeared!

Oldtimers insisted the nocturnal carolers and those well-dressed churchgoers (the men in all-white suits made of popular suiting material called, “algodon,” and the ladies in flowing long gowns with elaborately propped up sleeves) were “residents of Hamorawon.”

Most of the time, unseen to ordinary mortals, they were said to come down from their hilly community and made their presence felt, albeit in a limited course of time, on special occasions like the Christmas season, Holy Week, and fiesta day.

It was also whispered about among old Calbayognons that singing carols and attending midnight masses were particularly appealing to the “mystical and surreal revelers of Hamorawon.”