^{“These people, both men and women, seem amphibious, and to be able to live on water as well as on the land, so well do they swim and dive. Five pieces of iron were thrown into the sea to them for the pleasure of seeing them exercise themselves. One of them was skillful enough to get all five of them, and in so short a time, that one can regard it as marvelous.”
            —observations of indigenous Filipinos by the Dutch in 1600, from Sucesos de las Islas Filipinas, by Antonio de Morga}

To be amphibious
is to breathe underwater          
gills and fins
illuminated in a flash of sun
to be sirenos¹
es amar el mar
es tener cuerpos de agua²
desfrutar how the sea dances
along our spines
how it fills our hair
makes us weightless

We do not care if we are seen
taken as entertainment
desnudos
observados en un acto sagrado³

Our brown bodies split the water
no para conquista
kundi para sa unyon⁴

Our bangka⁵ are extensions
of our katawan ng tubig⁶.
Do you know which hands carved this wood?
Mula saang mga puno?⁷
Whose spirits guide us to the other side?

Hindi namin kailangan ng mga mapa⁸
Hindi namin kailangan ng mga kumpas                 
Feel the immense dagat move beneath us        

Can you feel it, through the thick hulls
of your conquering vessels?

We do not disrupt the harmony of things.

Can you plunge your hand into the sea
and bring up a fish?
Can you split one into two thousand pieces
so that every mouth is filled?   
Can you perform such the miracles
you describe in your holy book?          

Watched by mga anito⁹,
todos los seres vivos
nos protegen¹⁰

Bawat plankton, bawat maliit na hipon,
bawat nabubuhay na bagay¹¹

Ser anfibias
upang maging kasuwato sa dagat¹²
is to breathe underwater.

¹Both in Filipino and Spanish, this refers to mermen, but in Filipino folklore, while also including a version of a tantalizing creature (usually female) that leads fishermen to their deaths, sirenas/sirenos are are also engkantos or spirit-guardians of the sea. The colonial and indigenous influences in this mythology are both evident.

²“is to love the sea/is to have bodies of water”

³“naked/observed in a sacred act”

⁴These two lines show how Tagalog incorporated Spanish as one sees the shared words; it goes from Spanish, “not for conquest” to Tagalog “but for union”

⁵Bangka are Filipino outrigger boats with ancient origins that are carved from wood; it was believed that the spirit of the tree or an anito (guardian spirit) was imbued in the boat, especially through ritual consecration.

⁶“Bodies of water”

⁷“From which trees?”

⁸“We do not need maps / We do not need compasses”

⁹anito are ancestors, nature spirits, or deities in precolonial, indigenous Filipino systems, which were animistic. The word also can refer to statues and figures representing the spirits.

¹⁰“All living beings / protect us”

¹¹“Each plankton, each tiny shrimp / each living thing”

¹²“To be in harmony with the sea”

^{for Maya}

We meet at a coffee shop. So much time has passed and who is time? Who is waiting by the windowsill? We make plans to go to a museum but we go to a bookshop instead. We’re leaning in, learning how to talk to each other again. I say, I’m obsessed with my grief and she says, I’m always in mourning. She laughs and it’s an extension of her body. She laughs and it moves the whole room. I say, My home is an extension of my body and she says, Most days are better with a long walk. The world moves without us—so we tend to a garden, a graveyard, a pot on the windowsill. Death is a comfort because it says, Transform but don’t hurry. There is a tenderness to growing older and we are listening for it. Steadier ways to move through the world and we are learning them. A way to touch your own body. A touch that says, Dig deeper. There, in the ground, there is our memory. I am near enough my roots. Time is my friend. Tomorrow is a place we are together.