FIFTY YEARS: The First National Convention of the Omega Pelta Kappa

I WALKED INTO A PLACE where the Omega Pelta Kappa Fraternity and Sorority are celebrating today, September 5, 2015, their 50th Anniversary - a golden – and their First National Convention. An event that comes once in a lifetime for everyone, including me. I would not see it happen again and I came to touch base, to see and shake hands with my long-lost fraternity brothers and sisters and to sing once more the Peltans Hymn.

I am a Peltano by virtue of surviving a rite of passage that my upperclassmen had willed on me in March 1981. I now claim that right and that seat assigned to me inside the Sacred Heart Center. Proudly, I wear my fraternity's commemorative black t-shirt for this occasion but I feel uneasy. Unsure. Faces whose names I had forgotten or whose name I cannot relate to someone else's face questions my confidence. Of my right to belong.

I see a small yellow paper on everyone's breast and it has their names. My tenseness is gone and my smile becomes loose and natural. Time to paste a yellow paper on myself also. The legendary banners of the original chapters are hung side by side with the recent ones. Alpha of the University of Cebu. Beta of the University of San Jose-Recoletos. Gamma of the University of San Carlos. Delta of the Cebu Institute of Technology.

Brod Jerome Noel of Beta Chapter is on the stage providing insight into this historic event as all ears are lent towards him. I walked proudly to the place of the Delta Chapter banner, which I belonged, when it was mentioned. It seems I am alone at first and I looked around the crowd to give me company when, at last, Brod Dondie Gabutan stood and walked to join me. Oh God, we are a dying breed and so most of the old chapters.

We need new blood to keep the flame burning. Here in Cebu, the place where OPK was founded, only the chapter of the University of Cebu in Lapulapu and Mandaue carried the torch of our existence but, even with that, it cannot hold even the smallest candle to what we once were, population-wise, during OPK's glory years. I am saddened at this thought. We cannot turn this tide unless OPK will reinvent itself to suit to the times.

I reminisced in my seat when OPK was a very vibrant fraternity of the early '80s. It was a time of the dictatorship and the rise of adrenaline was very much appreciated by the youths of our time by joining student organizations, legal or underground, and then engage in extracurricular activities. It was also a time of turmoil but youth militancy was at its height and my heart was swept onto its revolution.

OPK was part of my growth and had been part of the driving forces to what I am now and I never regret the process by which they had imposed on me, even with blindfolds. It may be harsh to most who had never ever been there but it is bittersweet and special for the few who dared. I am one of the few who can rightly say the “been there done that” phrase with credibility. Scotch on the rocks, please. And make that two. I believe, swapping stories with a peer are better with that.

I am with my contemporaries inside this big room. The alpha males and the alpha females of their time but now very docile and warm and aging. The youthness had surrendered to the grayness and the baldness and the accompanying body aches. The pillars of the OPK sat on the front table. The gatekeepers. Soon they will pass the shield to the Council of Elders that they will soon chose from among those who are fit to lead OPK to the next level.

On discussion is the official OPK Logo. Our Coat of Arms. Brod Edward Cilocilo (1977 UC) emphasized that all the chapter leaders and members should adhere to the original concept of the seal that the original founders had designed. Adding other details which does not pass the scrutiny of all chapters is hereby discouraged. The OPK identification tattoo, the whistle, the challenge-and-password system are also explained in great detail by this esteemed gentleman from the third generation.

The Omega Pelta Kappa may have had lost its zest and appeal to the younger generations as the anti-hazing law is implemented by the government to its fullest meaning which dealt the dearth of new blood through the traditional lines of recruitment, not only on us but on the rest of school organizations with Greek letters. Nevertheless, OPK will adapt to the times and it will have to undergo radical changes in its organizational structure, name, rituals and processes so it would survive and entice new members.

The only bright spot that OPK is enjoying right now are the chapters of Pi Alpha and of Zeta. The latter had metamorphosed into different sub-chapters that are distributed in Davao City, Davao del Norte, Compostela Valley, Davao del Sur and Davao Oriental and, that is why, six slots are entitled to Mindanao to the Council of Elders. On the other hand, the chapter of Kabankalan City, Negros Occidental is a force to reckon with, with two slots graciously assigned to them.

Saving face, because of its large alumni population, Cebu was able to snare two slots for the Council of Elders. Manila gets one, as a special concession to the efforts of Brod Rey Mabasag while Iloilo gets a slot, despite not being represented. The Council of Elders would formulate the drastic changes that Omega Pelta Kappa will have to painfully undergo in order to breathe above the water line. This would not be easy.

I believed there had been behind-the-scene debates regarding these. As always, there are the pros and the cons and there is communication and dialogue. A very long process but it came nevertheless on a silver platter. Never too late and never too early. It is aged. It is wise for its time. It is ripe enough for the picking on this 50th year. How appropriate. It has its rough edges but it will soon be smoothed soon to a shiny sheen. Trust that to the Council of Elders and to the Grand Chancellor.

Representing Mindanao are Brod Alandele Pacquen, Brod Romeo Uy, Brod Raymund Galot, Brod Daryll Huesca, a sister and another brother. Kabankalan City will have Brod Michel Miran and Brod Mark Dorado. Brod Jerome Noel and Brod Glyx Gallego represent Cebu while Manila will have its lone representative in Brod Rey Mabasag. Absent but highly recommended, is Brod Kenneth Apuhin, who would be Iloilo's own. Elected by this body as Grand Chancellor is Brod Jerome Noel. All would serve two years and shall be replaced (or could continue for another two years) on the next national convention, which will be hosted by Davao City.

Henceforth, the Omega Pelta Kappa Fraternity and Sorority will be given a legal personality with the creation of the Peltans International Society of Professionals Incorporated (PISPI), pending approval before the Securities and Exchange Commission. OPK shall remain as it is - as a fraternity - and would continue functioning in campuses and retain its identity, structure and a few revisions of its rituals. When a Peltan graduates from college and turn professional, his ties with his fraternity continues and that is where PISPI comes into play.

PISPI will oversee the operations of campus chapters and would guide and inspire the collegians to strive in their scholastic endeavours as well as paving the way for their integration into the professional world. PISPI provides them assistance and full support – as students and as professionals – and would function according to its mandates. PISPI would also accept neophytes directly from the professionals and there would be the mandatory requisites for full acceptance to brotherhood or sisterhood, which would deviate a little from those entering by way of OPK.

These are the ideas that OPK need to stave off extinction. We are, more or less, like the dinosaurs and most of our thoughts stuck to the past. Sentimental values. It is time to move on and accept change. The opportunity of being part of a new phase in the reorganization of OPK into PISPI gives me reason to hope, exult and wait for that day when I could enjoy the fruits of these outcomes that the Council of Elders would soon implement.

I have one concern though. Could we sing the Peltans Hymn better next time? And could we prepare a choir of Peltans to record this song so it would not deviate from its original form like what happened to our coat of arms? When transferred in MP3 format, singing our hymn would now be easy unlike the ones we did during the opening ceremonies where it sounded like the ones tuned in for funeral hearses.

Dinner is served courtesy of our more blessed fellow Peltans. Sharing a table with me is Sis Elsie Imanil of Gamma Chapter while on an adjoining table are my brothers from Pi Alpha and on another are the old stalwarts of Gamma. Everybody are joyful and expectant of things to happen that will solidify our existence and our bond. There is life for a Peltan after college, and after here, after all.

One of the things that PISPI will introduce is the Chamber of Commerce. This body will collect and collate all the members' profile, profession, skills, business and other information into one database, like those of a classified ads, and shall be available to all Peltans for referrals, networking and for other purposes. Literally, I have snared an opportunity at that moment as Brod Nick de los Santos of Alpha Chapter and the incumbent mayor of the Municipality of Alcoy, Cebu, asked of my number. A future project in the making!

As this national convention of old and new Peltans begins to show the forms of an adjournment, I slowly leave my table to shake hands, and bade goodbye, to any Peltan I happen to pass by as I take a subdued journey to the door. The grips are still firm, their smiles welcoming although a little sad at the corners, knowing that the opportunity for meetings like this would be two years from now. And we are not getting any younger. Two years! It is harsh on all of us but we have to surrender to that reality.

I would have wanted to extend my night hours into the morning to swap stories, to fill in the blanks of the gap of years and to unseal the enigma I might have projected to the rest of the Omega Pelta Kappa. Not tonight, please. I am overwhelmed by too much happiness to see so many Peltans in one place and in the creation of PISPI. I could have that in my own sweet time. Perhaps, in Davao. Why not? Davao is a special place for me and I have good memories there. Eating durian is one of them.

See you in September 9, 2017 then my brothers and sisters. ¡Hasta siempre Peltanos y Peltanas! Peltans Forever!

Document done in LibreOffice 4.3 Writer

Photos by Brod Rod Cumba and Sis Elsie Imanil

NAPO TO BABAG TALES CI: Ever Fearless

I HAVE TAKEN TO a liking of the route that passes over Tagaytay Ridge which links up with the main ridge of the Babag Mountain Range. Going to the Caburnay homestead, which sits before Babag Ridge takes about three to four hours, so you can prepare a meal, is a perfect option. Water is nearby which actually is sourced afar. Besides it is shady there too.

I am going there again today, August 23, 2015, to loosen up some muscles so I could prepare myself for that very difficult Segment IV of the Cebu Highlands Trail Project, which is in October. Coming with me are my adherents from the Camp Red Bushcraft and Survival Guild namely Jonathan Apurado, Justin Abella, Faith Gomez, Richie Quijano and Nelson Tan.

I have last walked here in July 19. Jonathan and Richie were with me then. It had rained for many days but today it had not but I am quite sure the ground would be wet and vegetation would be thick. Once we cross the footbridge, we begin the ascent. Manggapares Trail is an old forgotten route which I began to revive when I rediscovered it in 2013.

I am wearing my worn-out 5.11 Tactical Series Shoes. It is almost disintegrating but I choose where I step and I have to be very careful. Upward we go into the back of the ridge yet it is very shady, almost gloomy. I have not met other hikers here except by a very few locals. I am following a fresh set of spoors made by a pair of rubber boots. Reading trail signs gives a different dimension on my purpose here and my mind work out the puzzles left by somebody.

I meet a mother and a daughter in their Sunday's best of clothes going downhill. Both carried baskets of mangoes above their head and both were sweating. Familiar faces and they were both smiling despite the toils they are having. I give them the privilege of the trail and on they would go to Guadalupe to hear mass. Me and my friends still have a long way to go.

We reach the first tower after an hour. We have started our walk at 07:30 and it is a good pace. For now. We will soon be exposed to sunlight but we will have a good view of the countryside scenery that goes beyond the coast and the harbour channel. The second tower stands very imposing at a higher height and I wish the clouds stayed as they had been when we started our climb.

We take a short rest after hurdling the second tower and our sights gaze on to the next three, which are not that difficult anymore. The relic of a backhoe is still there and I am quite surprised that people had not cannibalized the abandoned heavy equipment. So be it and I hope it shall remain as part of the landscape.

There is a trail up ahead that veer to the right and I go down to follow it then take another branch on its left. The second trail is very difficult to discover unless you are now very familiar to it as I am now or you know your lessons well in trail sign reading as I had done some eons ago. This is the Liboron Trail and I shudder at it everytime it becomes soft and muddy. But today it is not despite the heavy rain of yesterday.

I hear noises below us, some human activities. I hope it is not Timoteo Gabasan because I am waiting for him to make good his threats. I follow Liboron Trail as it weave itself in and out of the lower contours of Tagaytay Ridge until I come upon the hidden coconut plantation where there is level ground.

I saw a young man and I noticed that he showed fear and anxiety upon seeing us. I smiled and gave a morning greeting and walked directly to a tree full of ripe Chinese currants (Local name: bugnay) hanging down in its dark purple and red splendor. His tenseness is gone when he saw me and us as harmless and he smiled a little. He is with an old woman, who hid among tall grass. I wonder why they acted so strangely?

All of us plucked the ripe fruits of the Chinese currant tree and indulge at its tart sweetness. I wished Jhurds Neo was here. He would have brought all of the tree to town. We had a happy disposition when we enjoyed the fruit. It has dissipated our fatigue and little stress that we felt when we climbed up Manggapares Trail. When we were done with that we proceed to the Caburnay homestead.

There is warmth as we climb up a hill overgrown with waist-high grass. Once we top it, the path would swing down onto a couple of sentry groves of bamboo and then up another hill where the homestead is located. Along the way I foraged the driest tinder I could find so we could start our cooking fire. Julio Caburnay is around and he welcomed us into his humble place.

When we have settled our bags we begin the fire with the sparks of the ferro rod. Although we have matchsticks and lighters, it boosted our confidence to start a fire with the rod. It might be unnecessary but, when you are outdoors, you take that chance. Some sort of training. Everybody then pooled their hands in the preparation of our food.

Julio offered us his organically-grown little bananas, which everybody relished very much, and his red dragonfruit. We reserve the dragonfruit to Nelson. His wife is expecting their first baby and it would be good for the wife – and the child – to get some nutrients from this exotic fruit which had adapted well in our environment. Julio also parted a bunch of his recently-harvested corn.

Jonathan takes charge of the cooking. What's cooking then? We got rice, yes. Then that sweet smell of pork adobao wafted by your nostrils, while the rest help themselves in cooking the corn on naked embers. We got a treat, wow! Then you add a pre-cooked “pancit guisado” (Local noodles) that Faith and Justin brought and our lunch takes on a different dimension.

I keep a share for Julio and his wife plus sachets of coffee, sugar, salt, vinegar, soy sauce and a can of unopened tuna flakes which I intentionally brought for their consumption. After staying for more than two hours we are now ready to take on the rest of our journey. Before we leave, Julio gave me six stems of his prized dragonfruits so I could propagate it. I could give it to anyone interested.

It is cloudy and that is fine with us as we negotiate the last part of Tagaytay Ridge before it joins the main ridge of the Babag Mountain Range. The path is now thick with overgrown shrubs and cane grass and I unsheathed my AJF Gahum for this clearing work. A tree had fallen between today and the last time I passed by here and it blocked the path. I have to do a little detour and slash more shrubs and those hardy crawling bamboos (Local name: bokawe).

I follow the Babag Ridge Trail – a very fine old trail – which I lost long ago and rediscovered it in January 2013. I always love this stretch. It gave me serenity by just walking on it. This is a good place to reflect on things and too few locals come here. Unfortunately, off-road motorcycles and their riders pass by here every so often disturbing the calmness and the sanctity of the ridge leaving ugly furrows on the path.

More disturbing, is the presence of a habitation located before the old campsite. It had cleared vegetation along its premises for a small farm and it may expand soon when no one from the DENR is checking. I do not want this to become another “Forbidden Farm” which one homestead is claiming and blocking a route as theirs when you climb Mount Babag from Napo.

This is a historical place. Small battles were fought here between the local resistance and against succeeding colonizers from Spain, the United States and Japan. Then a bigger battle between Japanese defenders against the American liberation forces have made this mountain range famous. It is still home to an artery of war-time tunnels that had been exhaustively explored by crazy treasure seekers.

We are now going down a ravine because fences have blocked access to the rest of the ridge by one family who claimed a part of the path as theirs by mere possession of a tax declaration. This is government land classified as timberland and inalienable and the DENR is an inutile institution. These documents came from them and they cannot regulate the recipients who have been using their privileges the wrong way, blocking access to water sources and rights of way.

We climbed up from the ravine and continue on the rest of the trail. Before reaching the tower area, we slip down the East Ridge Pass to the Upper Kahugan Spring where there is a water source and where “Forbidden Farm” is located. Then we continue until we reach the abandoned homestead of Fele and Tonia Roble, where their children Manwel, Juliet and Josel used to live and play and study at Napo and at Guadalupe.

It is now silent except for a PVC pipe which pour water that is channeled from the Upper Kahugan Spring. Fele's brothers, Zene and Roger still clung to the place in constant fear of Timoteo Gabasan, who have been discovered to have prowled their place at nighttime by neighbors, still hoping to finish off the absent Fele. Anyway, I part a gift for Zene, courtesy of the guys from Camp Red, and two of the dragonfruit stems.

My pair of turkeys have successfully laid another generation of young ones but all died. I could do nothing more about it except wish that Zene and his wife focus more attention to caring for the chicks. I have given them the opportunity to gain from it but their half-hearted attitudes on the turkeys gets into my nerves to the brink of sheer disappointment. I am tired of giving the best advice and seeing the same results. I am tired of seeing this place!

The afternoon is getting late and it seems I have no more business here. I look at the unfinished house and it begets a frown and an anger from me at the sight of this failed project. I have involved many people and I was very optimistic about this when that tragedy on Fele struck. Because of overconsumption of alcoholic drinks which led one bad thing to another like the burning of their home. It destroyed the children's future and my hopes for them.

Yes, I have no business here. I just hope the dragonfruit stems would be taken cared of and bear fruit. That would be a good reason to inflame back a dying ember that I have felt of this place. If not, I leave the dust of my shoes and take my kindness elsewhere.

Document done in LibreOffice 4.3 Writer

LILOAN (CEBU) RESPONDERS GOES BUSHCRAFT

A WEEK AFTER THE first search and rescue summit of Cebu Province, I began to receive requests from local government units to have their emergency responders undergo training in bushcraft and survival. This training is quite expensive if you look it at from an international perspective since the skills acquired are highly-valued by Europeans and Americans. We have one survival school in Subic but it only showcases the primitive-living ways of the Aeta. What I teach is entirely different.

Disasters are now more intense and unpredictable, aggravated by climate change and by man. More people now visit places, as in adventure tourism, where, a decade ago, nobody would and vulnerability to accidents increase as well. Against these conditions, LGUs need to be well prepared, as defined and mandated by Republic Act 102020. The recent SAR summit initiated by the Cebu Provincial Disaster Risk Reduction Management Office provided the stimulus for LGUs to provide their respective DRRMOs with great importance and provide them equipment, funding and training.

The Municipality of Lilo-an requested that I teach their emergency responders in bushcraft and survival on August 28-30, 2015. I recently had taught volunteer responders of the Capiz Archdiocese Disaster Action Center last month at Ivisan, Capiz and, before that, in June, to nineteen individuals during the Philippine Independence Bushcraft Camp which was hosted by Lilo-an. The PIBC is an alternative learning medium created solely to answer the needs for more education of outdoorsmen and active individuals.

I arrived at the Lilo-an Municipal Hall at 05:00 of August 28, 2015. Joining me soon to assist me are five members from the Camp Red Bushcraft and Survival Guild: Jhurds Neo, Ernie Salomon, Dominik Sepe, Mark Lepon and Nelson Tan. I would be expecting the full force of the Lilo-an Public Safety and Emergency Management Office lead by its chief, Hammurabi Bugtai. Thirteen are available and a skeleton crew remained to man the post in their absence.

From the municipal hall we were whisked towards the village of Mulao by the town's workhorse called the “Dukevan”. After touching base with village officials, we proceed to the Mulao Elementary School before proceeding down for Cotcot River. I am leading the party and follow a trail, whose unfamiliarity will be lessened with Ernie's knowledge of having taken this same trail during the PIBC. Ernie failed to remember the exact route but we reach the Cotcot River on a different campsite.

Nevertheless, it is a good camping site which we used in our earlier dirt times. It has a wide open ground good for eight tents and some trees to prop hammocks. It is beside a stream and limitless firewood. Immediately, improvised shelters are erected by the participants using laminated nylon sheets, used advertisement tarp sheets, wooden poles, bamboos, ropes, natural cordage and buri palm leaves.

When all have settled down, I start the training at 13:00 tackling first about Introduction to Bushcraft. Except for a few, the term bushcraft is so alien to them but they could relate it better instead with the use of the closest Cebuano equivalent available - “panikaysikay”. It would also good to note that bushcraft is not totally synonymous with the word survival, since the latter is immediate while the former is the practice of skills in a day-to-day basis or the preparation hereof in survival situations.

One of the new topics that I have introduced lately is Ethical Bushcraft. It is taken as an excerpt from my future e-book which bears the same title. Considering that bushcraft is beginning to unfold as a leisure weekend activity, thanks to survival TV, the unabated enjoyment of it would take a toll on the forest resources like those happening in Western countries where many private lands and parks are now off-limits to bushcraft activities.

In Ethical Bushcraft, the participants are taught to be part of the landscape, judiciously use forest resources, even firewood, and to increase safety, particularly the management of campfires. It is a lengthy topic which takes most of the afternoon and, should be, for educating individuals into responsible outdoorsmen is what this is all about, especially when everybody are now interested in bushcraft and survival.

The last topic for the day is Knife Care and Safety. It aims to correct the usual ways we carry and use the knife and to change the common notion of the knife as a mere weapon into a very useful tool. In bushcraft, the knife lay supreme for, without it, tasks would be downright difficult to accomplish. As every tool, you have to spend considerable attention that it functions well by maintaining its sharpness and keep it from rust.

Bushcraft is a lawful activity and it easily fits in that description under Batas Pambansa Bilang Anim (BP 6), the only law in the Philippines governing the carrying and possession of knives. This topic increases your responsibility in the use of blades and its carrying, including travelling. It also teaches you the different shapes of blades, knowing the different parts of a knife and how to sharpen these.

When dusk begins to be felt, the participants disperse to prepare their dinner. They cook their food and rice in large pots which they brought along. Ernie prepared for the camp staff. Campfire Yarns and Storytelling unfolds when supper had been taken and everyone take their respective spots around a small campfire, just like the Boy Scout days. The campfire is the social center of early camp life since time immemorial. Taps at 22:00 is extended by two hours.

The second day – August 29 – begins with a light breakfast for, today, everyone would be fasting, including the camp staff. The participants would feel being miserable in an environment where they have almost no control of and then fighting off hunger and drowsiness in the middle of the lectures. When responding to calamitous situations, you are almost in this state and you have to stretch yourself for a few more mileage to be effective.

First topic for the day is Survival Tool-Making. When you lack gears or what you have is inadequate, you have to improvise by making tools. Tool-making is simply extending your existence during a survival situation. You make different tools for different situations like cordage, for foraging, for trapping and hunting, for dining and cooking, and for other special uses. What they learned yesterday in knife-handling safety would be applied on this topic.

Essentially, knives and tool-making go together. Making a tool exercises your dexterity with a knife. I demonstrate to them how to make a foraging stick and then a bamboo cooking pot employing the Trailhawk System. I designate them into three groups of four and require them to make a spoon, a drinking jug and a cooking pot. Those that do not have knives with them, choose the knives that me and my camp staff put on display.

The morning progresses into something positive for the participants and the training staff when a strong rain came. It stayed for 30 minutes and unleashes again another torrent after an hour but it stayed longer. In the dry comforts of their shelters, the participants persevered and continue on the making of their dining tools as well as the pot that would be used later for cooking and all three groups showed me their results thereafter.

Second topic would have been Firecraft but we just had a downpour and so not conducive to discuss about fire or heat. I jump to the next, instead, which is about Shelters. Before setting up a shelter, you should choose a good campsite. It should not be on the stream banks. It should not be on flat terrain. It should not be along trails. It should not be near a water source. It should not be under a forest of pines, cedar, pulpwood, eucalyptus and rubber trees.

The campsite should be away from all of these and do not alter the aesthetic of the place just so it could suit your tastes. Keep it as it is and then blend your man-made shelter with it. If you cannot make one, use a small cave or a rock overhang and make yourself comfortable by building a small fire. Use the rocks as reflector of heat. Simple shelters can be made from natural materials or a combination of man-made ones. Some shelters employ this setup in this bushcraft camp which is not difficult to explain.

Then I proceed to the topic about Foraging and Plant ID. Foraging works better with good bushcraft ethics unless there is a need where your existence would be at stake. I discourage the use of rifles when hunting for food and resort instead to trapping. I demonstrate how a simple trap looks like and how it is placed. Likewise, I show a snare employed to catch monkeys and big lizards and another one that closes a loop when moved. Not to be outdone, the participants made a trap made to catch fowls and birds.

Part of foraging is identifying plants. It could be edible, herbal or harmful. Just as long you suspect each plant that you do not know, it would never be a problem. To guide them how harmful plants look like, I showed them pictures of these plants, starting from the thorny ones to one that is so toxic that there is no antidote to cure people affected by this.

The last lecture for the day is about Outdoor Cooking. This topic also includes how you preserve meat, fish, vegetables and fruits. The processes are discussed thoroughly as possible given the light of day beginning to go dim. Then there are ways how you cook your food: open hearth, semi-closed and the closed style; and where you cook: campsite, trailside and bushcraft.

The open style is very popular as it is very simple. Semi-closed works like you would with a clay hearth where there is a hole to feed the fire with wood and another hole where the pot is placed or where the food is cooked. A good example would be the Dakota fire hole. The closed type is a different kind as it does not use direct fire in cooking your food but would use that fire instead to heat the stones to cook your food instead like a crude oven.

The three groups are now ready with their bamboo cooking vessels. The Trailhawk System of cooking is not complete without employing the unusual way of how it cooks rice, which is quite different from a standpoint of conventional cooking of rice. It is now almost dark and the guys are hungry because of the whole day without food. Whoever cooks his rice first, can start immediately their Nocturnal Hunting.

One by one, group after another group, leave in search of their own food. For me, it is time to relax by taking a bath in the middle of Cotcot River where the current is swift. The water is warm yet refreshing to a warmed up body that have not had rest for two days and a bath for a day. I never felt so better after that, given that the night is warm and humid. I can see lights that walk up on one hill and another group on a hill across it.

Ernie starts his own cooking, ably helped by Jhurds while Nelson makes another fire to smoke the mosquitoes away. The first group arrive and they caught five edible tree snails (Local: taklong), just enough for the four of them. A second group arrive to show a more miserable result – a heart of a young coconut tree (ubod). The last group whose lights glowed at the farthest hill returned with a live chicken and some horse radish. Very well, so far so good. All cook their food. Those with less, supplement it with canned goods.

The second night begets a second dinner found the hard way. When all had their fill, another Campfire Yarns and Storytelling turned up. Since I do not have enough time for tomorrow, I decide to talk about the Everyday Carry around the campfire circle. The night went on after that but I am tired and I hit the deck of my shelter early.

The third day – August 30 – is reserved for Firecraft. It is a very warm morning. After a good breakfast, I start the topic immediately. Firecraft is not just about making fire by modern conveniences or by primitive means, but it is understanding how a fire would work and how it may be used. Elementary understanding of a fire should start from the so-called fire triangle, which is now substituted with the tetrahedron. (A tongue twister. Why not a diamond?)

Then you have to identify good fire tinder. Tinder absorb heat which makes fire possible and it could also absorb moisture quickly to test your patience in making fire. Tinder are natural dry material which are so light and, sometimes, so fluffy but you could manufacture your own tinder like I did with cotton jeans which result to charred clothe. Charclothe could catch the flimsiest of sparks and can be used as medium to receive heat from concentrated light passing by water inside a bottle.

There are four ways to make fire. First is by the conventional manner which could be done with a lighter, a box of matches or by a ferro rod. Second is by solar magnification which can be created with a magnifying lens or other material which could imitate the lens like bottled water or even ice. The third is by pressure which is only possible with an internal combustion engine and by the fire piston.

The last is the most popular, which is by friction. The whole idea of survival is anchored on this. Actually, it is not. Friction methods are many and it is done with wood or by bamboo or the combination of both. Most popular here is the bamboo-saw method because it is considered our own and is extensively used in Boy Scout activities. Beginning to get attention in local bushcraft is the bowdrill method. Other methods like the hand drill, the fire plow and the fire thong are as good as the others. It takes a good amount of practice and the right conditions to make fire with these.

After successfully making fire in some methods, I believed I have taught all what is needed to be taught and decide that the training has ran its course. Then it rained heavily. We pack our things back inside our bags under this deluge and break camp. I fear that the river would rise. As I had feared, a tributary has risen and we have to cross it three times under a strong current. We take another route back to Mulao and found refuge under their covered basketball court.

While waiting for the rain to subside, Jhurds decide to raffle off the free giveaways: ten pieces paracord of 10 meters length each, two Seseblades NCO Straight knife and a modified Seseblades Sinalung. All these courtesy of Jhurds, who have been very supportive of my endeavours. A Hyundai Starex of the Municipality of Lilo-an arrive to pick us all, down to the new seaside store of Titay's Rosquillos and Native Delicacies.

Upon arriving, I distribute the training certificates to the participants, after which Aljew Frasco whisk us off to his farm and treated me, Jhurds, Ernie, Mark, Doms and Nelson to a well-cooked mixed-vegetable stew. Gone are the fatigue and the bone weariness that have hounded me for as long as I can remember. The soup is just superb and would have been perfect if paired with cold beer but we all need an early rest. There would be a next time, I am sure.

The Municipality of Lilo-an have taken extraordinary steps to professionalize their emergency responders with the addition of this training. They are the first municipality to extend their DRRM operators to learn bushcraft and, likewise, it equipped them in their work, especially when responding to places where they have no total control of the environment. This training taught them how to adapt, blend and improvise in any given situation where resources are limited and pursue their goals without impediments.

As for me, I have now come to the conclusion that I will focus my attention on sharing what I know about bushcraft and wilderness survival. I have been in private employment for sometime now and I think I may have to choose the best master: the corporate owners or my passion. I will arrive at that bridge and when I do I will cross the river and burn the bridge behind.

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NAPO TO BABAG TALES 100: Wet and Wild

AFTER MY YESTERDAY'S boo-boo, I finally got over it and go, once again, to the parking lot of the Our Lady of Guadalupe Parish. Today, August 23, 2015, is real, for sure. The biology class of the University of San Jose-Recoletos are coming over. According to their professor, Ryan Ymbong, there will be twenty of them.

Unfortunately, Ernie Salomon will not be with me. Another from the Camp Red Bushcraft and Survival Guild – Nelson Tan – will take his place but he will be late. Fine. For the past few days, weather patterns are beginning to be predictable. Rain will pour hard during noon and another sequel in the middle of the afternoon. Well, I am ready for that but I am worried about my guests.

I waited. Killed time by listening to the MP3 feature of my Cherry Mobile U2 phone. A white passenger van arrived and out comes Prof. Ryan, I presume, from the front seat. He instantly recognized my khaki Silangan Predator Z backpack prominently placed on the concrete pavement. My worries stretched into a frown as most of the students are not wearing proper footwear.

That would really be a problem when the ground turns muddy but, as long as it does not rain this morning, that difficulty will not be much of a problem. Anyway, I join the professor on the front seat and the driver took us to the community of Napo. As we arrive, I immediately gather them all and gave them a short briefing of the terrain and the rough estimate of the distance to our destination.

Noticing that some were carrying heavy things inside big plastic bags, I requested these be equally distributed to others. I myself volunteer to carry the heavy bunch of rice cooked in coconut-leaves (Local name: puso) and the breakable items. At least, for now, the load carried by hand would be tolerable and there would be no danger of the plastic bags getting torn by blades of grass. Sturdy plastic bags, I noticed, are beginning to disappear, replaced by those brittle biodegradable ones.

We start our activity with a prayer by Prof. Ryan. I lead but I walked like someone who is strolling in Plaza Independencia under a pale light of a full moon. Yeah, that slow. I believe (and I know) that some pairs of feet would get skin blisters soon considering that I saw bare skin above shoes indicating no socks at all. Oh well, what a great way to learn plants and of hiking – later. That is why I walk slow. I see a stinging nettle (daw-daw) and I begin my own version of Plant 101.

I am interested to learn more about plants since I teach people about bushcraft. I have only a limited data of it right in my head learned from the nuances of growing up, from books, from the mil and from my late grandpa, who left me alone time and time again in a forest, usually at dusk or at dawn, during his tireless journeys, mostly in Bohol, while I was five and seven. I learned so many things from him and what I learned I share.

I may know some plants but it is limited to the local names, the features and its uses. I do not have time for its scientific names but, later on, through self-study, I begun to know its English equivalent and, to a much difficult degree, their Latin conundrum. Those that I have discovered recently, I turn to professional advice in the Web but, mostly, site administrators are as stupid as I am and so unaccommodating, leaving you more ignorant.

However, perhaps, I may learn a thing or two from this bunch. Prof. Ryan had read my blog and had requested me to guide them to a good site at the Babag Mountain Range. I know places there where vegetation are thick and would be a hoard of treasure to a biology student. It is where streams pass and you do not need people to wreck havoc on their bodies by leading them to difficult terrain.

When you are into the business of wilderness guiding, improvisation matters. It is different to mountain guiding where elevation, adrenaline and scenery afforded by peaks are its main pursuits. I had been guiding people for some time and I find the latter too dangerous and too boring for my age. In the former, I found fulfillment. It is that which people tend to appreciate your skills, your knowledge and your time.

The path is wet and parts of it are muddy which is bad enough. It will get worse when rain comes falling. I change paths and follow the trail going to Sapangdaku Creek. We follow it upstream until we are on a level ground above the stream. This place is called Kangsi by the locals and a lone family lived nearby. This would be a perfect place as it had been previously in several activities that I organized.

Prof. Ryan began instructing his students, which are composed of the purely BS Biology discipline and those of BS Education with major in Biology Studies. They had with them their instruments in aid of their field study like a GPS, thermometers, ropes, iron pegs, Petri dishes, glass jars, cameras, pencils and journals. They are divided into four groups.

The area is divided into four quadrants and lengths of rope are unrolled to delineate each quadrant from the other. I assisted each of the four groups establish their own quadrants, especially the ones that has the ropes go over the thickest vegetation. My big AJF Gahum knife did a lot of work to clear a way for me to bring one end of a rope to its farthest reach.

Three of the quadrants cross streams while one covered steep ground. The groups then collect their specimen, which are then documented after several guessings of its taxonomic category, including the GPS coordinates where each is found. Aside from plants, they also gathered three kinds of grasshoppers, some crickets, a mosquito, different butterflies and two varieties of fresh-water guppy.

The rain came as expected, near noon, and all collecting activities stop to concentrate instead to the preparation of their pre-cooked meals. It is not safe to work on the streams for fear of flash floods. Instead, I produce three banana leaves to cover the ground where the food will be placed. The rice in the “puso” are many and I could not believe I carried it all. Viands are the Tisa “siomai” (Chinese meat rolls), “pancit guisado” (local noodles), pieces of fried chicken and canned goods.

We eat our lunch under the onslaught of rain. Fortunately, Nelson arrived just in time to set up a tarpaulin sheet over where the food is laid. To those who cannot be accommodated below the shelter, to each his (or her) own to find some semblance of cover to justify a human necessity of providing nutrition to self, like me. I have been into this situation many times and it does not matter with today's inconvenience.

There is a lull in the sky and we were even afforded a glimpse of sunlight yet I expect rain to come back with a vengeance later. The specimen collection continues at 13:30 and everyone proceed to their assigned quadrants. The stream had risen a bit and the current brisk. Everyone pursue their work with wet clothes while I and Nelson stand guard. I keep a special attention on the stream and on a shooting suspect on the loose named Timoteo Gabasan.

By 14:15, the rains come back earlier than expected but it had stopped after about thirty minutes. The students ignored the inconvenience and concentrated on their field studies. At 15:30, the rains struck once more, and again, at 16:15. When Prof. Ryan sees that his wards have had enough of specimen collected, he called a cession to their activity and everyone obliged and repacked all their equipment and other things.

We leave Kangsi (it rhymes like Camp Xi) at 16:30 under the cover of incessant rain. The going was tough for those who wore rubber flip-flops, ladies' sandals, espadrilles and all sort of improper footwear, which almost were. They have to negotiate a slightly steep path from river bank to the main trail which looked like a crude imitation of a water slide and the main trail itself has pools of water along some stretches where there are depressions.

Prof. Ryan was exhausted after the hike back to Napo and he was the last one to arrive. Their transport have arrived earlier and waited until such time that everyone were accounted for. I take my usual place on the passenger van where I got dropped off at Guadalupe. Nelson, meanwhile, took his motorcycle and was already gone when I arrived. I would part Nelson his share of the fee when we meet next time.

Anyway, I accept people who requests of my services in guiding them to the mountains but, mostly, I refer it to my subalterns if it is for leisure hikes only. I would personally engage if the purpose is of a higher calling like today. I used to be a freelance mountain guide many years ago and I find no satisfaction in that because it demands technical skills and the risks are great with which compensation does not tally well with your efforts and the gears you invested.

As a wilderness guide, the risks are not that great and does not demand expensive gears. You have to have a different set of skills quite different from those activities done at higher elevations and is much in demand and, therefore, a bit expensive than usual. Guiding an archeological or a scientific expedition is one such example where the professional wilderness guide should be extraordinary and possess a high-level of expertise and ability.

Whenever you have such need of a guide for a planned Philippine expedition project, I can be contacted and be hired directly through my mobile numbers at +639172035101 and +639333225005 or you may email me at pinoyapache (at) yahoo (dot) com. If you so desire to see my credentials, I can attach it in my email in PDF or JPEG, whichever you prefer.

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BEBUT'S TRAIL VIII: Treasure Peak

WHEN SOMEBODY IS SENDING you a long text message, you read it whole and do not jump to conclusions. Do not assume you know the full context of the message. If you do, you suffer inconveniences as well as admitting that you are yourself stupid, with which word, in my own case, I am fond of labelling at less-imaginative people. Oh, stupid me.

That happened for today, August 15, 2015. It is a Saturday and I am supposed to be in the office working my butt for my bosses. I requested to be absent from work at the last minute because I thought this is the day that I am going to guide biology students to the village of Sapangdaku. The biology class would pay me and it would compensate much my absence. However, they reminded me TODAY that it would be tomorrow!

I am alone at the parking lot of the Our Lady of Guadalupe Parish. It is 09:30 and I am in the middle of my boo-boo. I am thinking of how I would spend the day instead. Going home is out of the topic. I am at the gateway to the Babag Mountain Range and the mountains are calling. I decide to do a solo hike instead to kill time. I shoot a message to Ernie Salomon that today's activity is postponed.

I am not carrying my usual items because the excursion with the biology students assures me that I do not have to cook food. They would carry pre-cooked food. Anyway, I decide to make today a training activity for myself in preparation for a series of bushcraft camps at the end of this month at Lilo-an, then probably in Luzon in September and back again to Cebu in October and November.

What I really worry about is the Segment IV of the Cebu Highlands Trail Project come October. It is a long hike that will start from Mount Manunggal over the rugged spine of the mid-north area to Carmen. I need a lot of second wind to develop and, for that matter, the third and fourth winds, if there would be such. Today would be a good opportunity to engage in a survival hike.

When I finished filling up my Nalgene from an automatic water dispenser, Ernie arrived. He did not receive my message I sent a few minutes ago. Oh well, I told him of my boo-boo and I have to postpone the activity with the biology students because of their inavailability. He decides to go with me, after all, the mountain trails are near. He needs to train himself too because he had not been to the mountains for sometime now.

Okay, I buy five bread, four mooncakes and two sachets of 3-in-1 coffee. There will be no cooking except boiling of water for coffee. Fortunately, I have brought my Trangia alcohol burner with its collapsible stand that is designed as a wind screen but I have no alcohol. Ernie has. We are good to go now and I choose Bebut's Trail because it is near and I am planning to visit again the fabled Starbucks Hill.

It is now 10:00 as I lead up the high steps of a concrete stair that will also lead to the lowest ridge of the Guadalupe Hills. It is very humid. There is mild sunlight and there is a promise of rain. Clouds begin to block the heat and it is a good moment at this tormentable hour to walk this bald hill which I had named as “Heartbreak Ridge” for it caused heartbreak to a lot of people.

I rest under the shade of a Jamaica cherry tree (Local name: aratiles, mansanitas) and I place my AJF Gahum knife on my belt and an olive-green meshed shawl on my head. Camera on the ready, I stalk the path leading to the power pylon, the tunnel vent, the small farm and beyond the ridge. The ground is wet since it rained early morning with dews on the leaves.

The rains had fattened the vegetation and stimulates growth of rare plants like the elephant foot yam (pongapong) and the pepper vine (buyo). Ernie is fascinated with my knowledge on plants and he wanted me to find him purslane (olasiman) so he could plant it in his small garden. I tried but I cannot find one which left me wondering why since it is very common like a weed.

We reach the place which I called as the Portal, which is really what the locals called in its vernacular version - “ang Pultahan”. For more than one hour we walked without stopping although we walked at a normal pace. At the Portal we rehydrate and eat a mooncake each. We engage a passing old couple with two empty 5-gallon bottles to a conversation. They are going to Kilat Spring. I gave them date seeds hoping they have better green thumbs than me.

I look at the path going to Starbucks Hill and it is overgrown with thick vegetation. According to the couple nobody goes that path anymore. My audacious outlook melted when they said that and my earlier plan to whack bushes got scuttled. I settled for an alternative. There is still the only path of the seven found at the Portal that I have had not walked. This trail goes up into an unknown peak.

Once I settled my backpack on my shoulders, there is no stopping. Ernie follow behind me, adrenaline rising and ready for another opportunity to explore places. Much of these hidden small places are now known because of my daring and my drive to quench my adventurous spirit. Nobody goes to these places because nobody wants to. Most outdoors people do not have the penchant to search because they do not know how. They like easy ones.

The path is steep and slippery. Blame that to my now toothless 5.11 expedition shoes made worse by rain falling down and getting soaked right up to my skin. The path disappears but I know where it goes and it led to a small cassava farm. Who would have thought people would plant something here unless there is a house nearby. More walking led me to loose earth being dug up. I thought it at first as another charcoal-making devise but I am wrong. It came from a hole in the ground. Treasure hunters?

It is deep enough but what could be hidden there? There is a horizontal shaft but I have no appetite to find ghosts in tight places. There must be somebody or some nearby house to engage in this earth-moving stuff. I look at the other side of the path – it is well used. I follow it and it goes upward until I reach the peak. There is a cairn but behind it is an even bigger hole. This is big. What could goad some people to dig big holes above a peak? I take a pinch of earth dug from the hole and it says nothing. Not even a hint of copper or iron. Yamashita again? Come on, give me a break!

We rest here for a while and analyze everything. If it is an enlarged cave then there must be something down there. There could be people hiding from sunlight, I mean from the law. It could be a “safe house”. I do not want to poke my nose on other people's business just as long as they leave mine. I am alright with that. Somehow, I have to continue my exploration of this route. A slight shower begins to pour and that spurred me to move on.

It is a well-used route. Meaning, people that worked on the small cassava field or of the enlargement works on the two tunnels came from here or passed by this stretch. Then a house. The same house which I passed by on September 14, 2014 (BUSHCRAFT BUHISAN 29: The Last Visit) during my relentless pursuit of re-discovering Starbucks Hill. I am perplexed at this discovery of the same house. Good thing it is occupied this time and I have answers to my questions.

One of the answers lead me to decide to cut this nascent exploration short, which means, we have to go down the hill, pass by a community and take the road back to Guadalupe. We reach the road alright but we have to take shelter at an abandoned structure to sit out the heavy rain and lightning that was now hurled from the skies. It is 12:30 and it might do us good to make hot coffee and eat the rest of our bread. Kids came and we parted most of the bread to them. I believe they needed it more than we do.

We continue on our way down when the lightning stopped to the creek spillway and reach Guadalupe at 14:00. My feet are now beginning to complain of the 5.11 shoes that I have been so proud to own and use in most of my adventure time starting January. It had seen good days even in such a short time but it has to remain with me until such time that I have not found the means for its replacement or its “retirement”. But the meat of the day's disappointment was really the boo-boo I made.

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