Thank God, it's Friday (the 13th)!
MANILA, Philippines - Do you have paraskevidekatriaphobia, or the fear of Friday the 13th? Apparently, a lot of people do. This urban legend of misfortunes happening on this particular day, although not necessarily scientifically proven, had a lot of phobics scared beyond their wits upon learning it was Friday the 13th last Jan. 13. They do not go out, do not work, do not eat out, do not book any flight, and heaven of heavens, will never get married on that day. In case they need to go out, they have to be extra, extra careful. They dare not cross the street if they see a black cat. Better make that sign of the cross once they do!
The way I see it, I guess they just have to sleep through the day and wait for Saturday the 14th to arrive.
I am definitely not Friggatriskaidekaphobic (another term for people who fear Friday the 13th Frigga is a Norse goddess and her name means Friday because my birthday happens to be on the 13th day of January, and although I was born on a Wednesday, as I turned 13 and 30, both on a Friday. And as I turned another year wiser last Friday the 13th, I thought this would be a good time to contradict the Friday the 13th phobics (it’s easier to write it than those two horribly long terms).
Many, many years ago (please don’t ask exactly when), when I realized that I was going to turn 13 on a Friday of January (which makes it, technically, the 13th month of the year, yes?), I excitedly mentioned it to my father. He, who is extremely superstitious (OK, a Friday the 13th phobic), just gave me that panicked smile. You know, a father’s smile to his youngest, (most favorite) daughter, seventh child, then a very active volleyball player of St. Theresa’s College, above average student, president of her class in 5th grade, but at the same time, probably thinking: “Goodness, Friday the 13th!” (We have a long dining table good for 12 people; the first time our growing family had to sit one more than 12, he “graciously” asked the lucky 13th member of the family to sit at the nearby bar table). The normal birthday celebration for us children then would be dinner at home prepared by my mother, attended by our Dait-Lumauig clan; that enough would fill up our home.
So, on my 13th birthday, being a school day, and having a volleyball competition (I think it was with WNCAA) which we had won again, I invited my team members and some classmates for dinner at home. It was already evening then. I was tomboyish, wearing my volleyball uniform, and starving! I was just really looking forward to my birthday dinner (and cake!). Lo and behold, when I got home, not only were family members there, they surprised me with the Bayanihan dancers right there in our terrace, dancing tinikling! What the heck?? We also had some balikbayan family friends visiting that time; I guessed that was the reason my dad invited the tinikling dancers. I mean, the Bayanihan dancers. No offense to them (I have many Bayanihan dancer/friends), but at 13, will you really appreciate it? I actually cringed. I don’t think my friends thought, “cool party!” Especially after we were coaxed to dance tinikling with the heavily made-up male dancers.
Of course, all that celebration boiled down to “fighting” the superstitious beliefs of what Friday the 13th could possibly bring to the celebrant and his/her family/friends/neighbors/countrymen. Never mind that it is really just folklore/urban legend/media hype (no thanks to The Da Vinci Code, among other books written about it), people still tend to avoid being “exposed to the elements” just to make sure nothing untoward will happen to them. And I guess one way to do this is to celebrate big?! I mean, I don’t think my dad would have told me, “Stay in your room, sweetheart. We will, too. We’ll just bring you cake.”
After that unforgettable birthday, I went through more Friday the 13th birthdays when I turned 19, 25, then 30. No more pleasant surprises there. And mind you, no untoward incidents (or accidents) whatsoever, thank you very much. In fact, I even adopted a black cat back in high school. When I turned 25, I was already a mother of two precious babies. And when I turned 30, I was back from a seven-year stay in the US, managing my own business and enjoying being a grad student. So, who says Friday the 13th brings ill luck?
I may have gone through many trials, tests, and tribulations, both personally and professionally, but I refuse to attribute it to being a Friday the 13th habitué. I would really rather count my (many) blessings. As I have just started to find my own sacred space after my two wonderful children (whom I am extremely proud of) set out to make their mark in this world, I am also grateful for my healthy 78-year-old doting and supportive parents, my five siblings, many nephews/nieces/grandnephews/grandnieces, relatives and friends (old and new!) and a loving boyfriend who understands my craziness. How lucky is that??
To my fellow Friday the 13th celebrants, happy, happy! Let’s NOT stay in, let’s work, let’s eat out, and let’s thank God it’s Friday the 13th!
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The author is an educator, volunteer, proud mother of two, proudly Ifugao, and proudly non-paraskevidekatriaphobic. She may be reached at ginalumauig@yahoo.com.
