This is that time of the year when all sorts of fortunetellers, soothsayers, seers, mystics, feng shui experts, etc., come out of the woodwork and make all sorts of predictions. It is perhaps a sad commentary on the gullibility of Filipinos that we give importance to these frauds. Some Filipinos would rather believe their own “manghuhula” [fortuneteller] than their own eyes. Some go to psychics to locate missing wealth or missing relatives. Although the psychics give clues and hope to their customers, practically none of the missing wealth or relatives ever gets to be found. The psychics always have an excuse for failing: either somebody in the room had no faith in them or his instructions were not followed.

Still, the Filipinos’ faith in the manghuhula is such that these operators make a good living telling fortunes. Go to the Quiapo church and you will see a long line of manghuhula sitting on the sidewalk waiting for customers. At least one who calls herself Madame something has become famous by vainly trying to make herself look younger, romancing younger men, and running after a male over-the-hill singer.

To you gullible customers, I bring bad tidings: These manghuhula are pulling your leg. They are making fools of you. They can no more tell the future than your neighbor can. They can no more locate your missing relative or property than your friendly policeman can. The truth is they don’t know, never have and never will.

What they’re expert in is psychology. They tell you what you want to hear but not completely. They string you along so that you will come back regularly, every week or every few days, to hear more. It is like telling a suspense novel—you come back to hear more because of the suspense, because you want to know how it will end, and you hope it will end in your favor. Only it never does. It always ends in favor of the manghuhula: He/she gets your money.

To be fair, I want to add that the manghuhula fulfill a function, even if in doing that they make fools of people. The manghuhula assuage the fears and uncertainties of their clients. The person who suspects his/her spouse of cheating goes to the manghuhula to get confirmation or denial of the infidelity or get the identity of the third person. A spouse who has family problems goes to the manghuhula for advice and hope.

I think that is the important function of the manghuhula: to give desperate people hope. These desperate people would be lost without the comforting words of the manghuhula. These words help troubled people get through difficult times, make them believe that better times are ahead. The manghuhula can be compared to the priest or the psychiatrist to whom troubled people go for comfort and advice.

Get comfort and hope but don’t believe them hook, line and sinker. I repeat, they tell you what you want to hear. If you are love-struck, they tell you that somebody is secretly in love with you and you swell with happiness and pride even if that someone is just a figment of the imagination.

Who is it? you eagerly ask. And the manghuhula gives you bits and pieces of clues which can apply to anybody. So that the next time you think somebody is stealing glances at you, you begin to think that this is the person secretly in love with you.

If you are seeking the identity of the suspected paramour of your spouse, the manghuhula gives you general and vague clues as to his/her description, occupation, etc., so that every time somebody glances at you or your spouse, you suspect that he/she is the paramour.

And the manghuhula can string you along for months and years. Each time it seems the “suspect” is near identification, he/she looks at the crystal bowl or cards and says: The picture is hazy. Maybe when you come back next time, it would be clearer. And you come back again and again, each time parting with your meager money to give to the manghuhula.

This manghuhula syndrome reminds me of the lyrics of an old song, “The Gypsy.” If you have forgotten them, here are the lyrics that tell why people keep going back to manghuhula:

“In a quaint caravan there’s a lady they call ‘The Gypsy.’

“She can look into the future and drive away all your fears.

“Everything will come right if you only believe ‘The Gypsy.’

“She can tell at a glance that my life is so full of tears.

“She looked at my hands and told me: ‘Your lover is always true.’

“And yet in my heart I know dear, somebody else is kissing you.

“But I’ll go there again ’cause I want to believe ‘The Gypsy,’

“That my lover is true and will come back to me again.”

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Letter-writer Stephen L. Monsanto whose letter in Thursday’s Letters column complained of the tarpaulins with the names and “stupid faces” of public officials polluting our streets hit the nail on the head. They are wasting taxpayers’ money to call attention to themselves, especially now that the 2010 elections are just around the corner. This is premature electioneering, which is against the law, he said.

Metropolitan Manila Development Authority Chair Bayani Fernando’s tarpaulins are all over not only Metro Manila but also the country, he said. “In Quezon City, councilors are having a field day dipping their fingers into the city coffers to expend for their own tarpaulins emblazoning their own stupid faces everywhere for the same purpose. If it’s not Merry Christmas and Happy New Year, it’s happy fiesta, happy graduation, happy valentine, happy birthday, happy ad nauseam .… This is not happening in Quezon City alone. It is happening all over the country, with remarkable brazenness, wrote Monsanto.

I agree. There should be a law against this misappropriation of public funds.