We see and feel ghosts because we want to, maybe because we?re longing for someone who has just passed away

I GREW up with ghosts. My mother claims my ?eight characters,? computed from the date and time of my birth by Chinese feng-shui practitioners, made me prone to seeing ghosts and other unearthly creatures, and that this happened several times when I was a child.

Where am I today? My university training in both the natural and social sciences, and life?s many experiences, have convinced me that there are no ghosts. But in the same breath I will tell you that I am absolutely convinced that there are hauntings and haunted houses, even haunted cities.

Perplexed?

Several years ago I heard a brief report on a BBC (British Broadcasting Corporation) science program about some research that randomly distributed people into two groups: one that went into houses that were supposed to be haunted, and another that went into ?regular? houses. They were not told what the ?reputations? of the houses were and were later asked to state if they felt they were in a haunted house or not. More people in ?haunted? houses felt the place?s ?haunted? qualities compared with those who went into the regular ones.

So does that prove that spooked houses really have ghost dwellers? The researchers? answer was ?no,? for reasons I?ll give later in this article.

I?ve tried to retrieve that study on the Internet but have not been able to track it down because I didn?t catch the names of the researchers and the journal in which the research findings were published. I never forgot the news item though. At that time I had become quite cynical about my own ?eight characters? and ghosts, but was (and still am) intrigued by places that have enduring reputations for being haunted. Since my work entails much travel, I get to visit many places in the Philippines. and almost always, if I ask about haunted places, people are able to name several.

Several months ago, I delivered a paper, ?Ghosts of Baguio,? at a conference in UP Baguio to mark the city?s centennial. In the paper, I proposed that we see and feel ghosts because we want to. ?We? can be a family, longing for someone who has just passed away. In a way we set ourselves up for it, telling each other stories about the recently deceased. The stories will include alleged premonitions from assorted relatives or even from the about-to-be-deceased (i.e. ?He sent me so many text [messages] that day.? or ?She cooked me my favorite dish that day?).

Should it be surprising that within a day or two after the death, we begin to get stories about the dearly departed making his or her presence felt -- through dreams, a light in one of the rooms in the house, even through the faint scent of a favorite cologne?

In the BBC research I mentioned earlier in this article, the researchers suggested that a house with a reputation for ghosts eventually acquires characteristics of what we think is a haunted house. People avoid the place so they become cold, dusty, musty. So when people say they can ?feel? the ghosts, they?re actually playing back all they learned about ghosts and hauntings from their culture.

We want to be haunted, not by ghosts themselves but by what they represent: memories of friendship and family, for example. In the case of Baguio, I?ve wondered if the reported sightings of ghosts aren?t part of a colonial hangover?the favorite haunts are almost always from the American colonial period, and the ghosts are more often American. Why, I asked, aren?t there Igorot ghosts?

We create ghosts to remind us of people, places, events. I once lived in an apartment complex where people would occasionally refer to the murder, many years ago, of one of the residents. No one seemed to even know which apartment it happened in, but people would whisper about the murder victim still occasionally visiting the complex.

Manila Film Center ghosts are another case in point -- supposedly spirits of workers who perished when parts of the building collapsed. Then First Lady Imelda Marcos, in her rush to complete the theater, supposedly ordered the victims entombed in the still wet concrete. And to this day, the story goes, the victims cry out for justice.

Yet, no one has ever produced the names of the supposed fatalities. Nor have there been people coming forward, asking about some relative who might have perished there. The Film Center?s ghosts seem to be part of an urban folklore used to embellish the bad old days of the Marcos? conjugal dictatorship. The ghosts don?t exist; yet, if you visit the Manila Film Center at night, I am sure you will ?feel? them.

Early this year, when I went up to Baguio to deliver my ?Ghosts of Baguio? paper, I checked into an old house on Leonard Wood Road together with my family. The first night we were there, my three-year old son woke me up halfway through the night and pointed to the window, ?Dada, someone is looking at us.?

I laughed, and told him to go back to bed. He laughed too, and soon drifted back into his dreams. No ?eight characters? here -- he had felt the thrill of a haunting, but wasn?t about to be overwhelmed by it. I was almost disappointed that he didn?t see someone in the window during the remaining nights we were there. ?