Does 'Albularyo The Filipino Shamans' Include Supernatural Elements?

I just finished reading 'Albularyo the Filipino Shamans', and yes, it's packed with supernatural elements that dive deep into Filipino folklore. The albularyos aren't just healers—they’re conduits for spirits, communicating with ancestral entities to diagnose illnesses no modern doctor can explain. The book details how they use orasyon (mystical prayers) to cast out demons or cure curses, often while holding rituals with herbs that glow under moonlight. Some chapters describe shape-shifting aswang spies lurking in villages, or duwendes (dwarves) sabotaging homes unless appeased. The most chilling parts involve soul retrievals, where albularyos battle dark shamans in spirit realms to rescue stolen lifeforce. It’s less fantasy and more a documentation of beliefs still alive in rural provinces today.

As someone who studies Southeast Asian mysticism, 'Albularyo the Filipino Shamans' stands out for its authentic portrayal of supernatural practices. The book doesn’t romanticize—it systematically breaks down how albularyos blend Catholic symbolism with pre-colonial animism. One chapter analyzes their rituals: smoking cigars to attract spirits, interpreting dreams as divine messages, or using coconut oil infused with incantations to heal wounds. The supernatural isn’t metaphorical here; it’s treated as tangible. When an albularyo heals a child possessed by a kapre (tree giant), the description of the smoky, cigar-chanting exorcism feels visceral.

The second half delves into darker elements, like mangkukulam (witch) battles. These witches curse victims by burying twisted dolls or poisoning food with spirit-bound toxins. The albularyo’s counter-spells involve mirror rituals or creating agimat (charms) from rare materials like lightning-struck wood. What fascinates me is the hierarchy of supernatural beings—from low-level nature spirits to godlike encantados that demand blood offerings. The book argues these forces aren’t just folklore but a parallel reality many Filipinos navigate daily, especially in areas untouched by urbanization.

If you’re into occult literature, this book is a goldmine. The supernatural elements aren’t background flavor—they drive every chapter. Take the albularyo’s diagnosis methods: they might drop candle wax into water, and the shapes formed reveal which spirit caused an illness. Or the way they ‘smell’ curses—literally detecting sulfur-like stenches around afflicted patients. The author interviews actual practitioners who claim to see invisible spirit threads connecting people to haunted objects.

What hooked me were the case studies. One albularyo describes a family haunted by a tiyanak (child demon) because they built their house over unmarked infant graves. The spirit mimicked crying until the family performed a reburial ritual with the albularyo’s guidance. Another story involves a fisherman cursed by a sirena (mermaid) after he accidentally hooked her hair; the albularyo mediated by offering pearls to lift the hex. Unlike Western horror, the supernatural here is deeply interwoven with community life—less about scares, more about balance between humans and unseen forces.