THE
LAST GOAT HAS TO GO! It belonged to Ramon Corro. Yes, there were
many when Fele and Tonia Roble were still there, along with their
children Manwel, Juliet and Josel. Actually, there were fourteen
which Boy Toledo, Boy Olmedo and the Roble Family were also part
owners. The Roble Family had left the place more than a year ago
when Nonoy Gabisan shot Fele in the abdomen and burned their house
afterwards. This same criminal killed three of my young turkeys.
All
the goats, except Ramon’s, had been sold to shoulder the Roble
Family’s relocation to a safe place. Fele survived that attack on
his life and is living with one kidney after a successful operation.
The lone goat in question is a male, had aged beyond its productive
life and incapacitates it to breed and produce offspring while its
meat does not have good market value anymore. It is in the care of
Roger, Fele’s younger brother. He is busy with his farm and his
small business trips and cannot watch over the goat anymore.
There
is only one option left: Food. After a long wait, Ramon decides to
have it butchered, cook the meat and celebrate a feast. Ramon called
me, Boy O and Ernie Salomon that he would like to spend a night at
the former place of Fele Roble and feast on his goat the following
day. I was more than happy for I have facilitated this outcome,
which took a long time to reap. We were all worried too – Ramon,
Roger and I – about the goat being stolen and becomes a feast of
another person.
Ramon,
Boy O, Ernie and I met at the Our Lady of Guadalupe Parish in the
afternoon of October 15, 2016. We put money on the box first to
procure ingredients for dinner, breakfast and for the caldereta
menu, rice, bread, 3-in-1 coffee and firewater. We start our hike
immediately when we arrived at Napo at 15:30. Only a few hours of
daylight left and we hastened our pace overtaking a group of three
Girl Scouts still in their uniforms. After 45 minutes, we were
already at Lower Kahugan Spring.
The
route to the old Roble Homestead is a little steep and we have to
race with the night. Remember, we do not sit down when we arrive
there. We have to pitch our shelters and prepare dinner. We need to
be there in daylight, even if it is just a few minutes of it. I took
the lead and got there in 25 minutes. Jerome, son of Zene Roble,
came down to meet me. After five minutes of waiting, I decide to tie
my Tingguian Tribe Sierra hammock between two trees. Jerome decides
to look for the rest.
I
had already rigged an overhead canopy when they came. My place is a
hundred meters uphill of where they intend to pitch their shelters.
There is raincloud and soon it would rain. Wisps of moisture came
but I need not worry. What I worry most is the cold wind. When you
are in a hammock, wind chill hits your back and vertebrae as if
death’s fingers tickle you to a morbid sleep. I brought one side
of my canopy low to the ground to block the wind but some found its
way.
Jerome
used my canopy to rig his hammock beside mine. Good initiative.
Ernie cooked a local pasta (pansit) for dinner. The warm food
made me feel better. The local brandy that is now starting to orbit
around in a cup made me sick. I still have a hangover of last night.
I pass the offer this time. I am not in a good equilibrium and I
would rest early. Roger and Zene came and they got Ramon’s go
signal. Time for me to hit the hammock.
I
woke up early the following day – October 16 – and went down to
where the aroma of coffee is. I had my slurp and more. Breakfast
were chorizo, spiced corned beef and canned tuna. I would not touch
the latter. I just want the first two and more of coffee, of course.
I am still feeling the sting of the hangover of two nights ago.
Even when the sun begins to make a show on the horizon, the hammock
seems more inviting than packing so I slept again.
Ramon,
Ernie and Boy O had already broke camp and are going uphill with
their backpacks to Roger’s place where the goat was butchered last
night. Ernie will do wonders of it, I am sure of that. A few
minutes later, a lone female hiker passed by as I was in the act of
dismantling my wonderful sleeping spot. The guys from Camp Red
Bushcraft and Survival Guild would be coming here soon and I will
wait for them in ambush.
While
waiting, a group of seven hikers came and went on their way to Mount
Babag. One of them happily informed me that he reads my articles in
this blog and he enjoyed it so much because it is full of useful
information. He loved the first-person narratives that he felt that
he was in the story. When they left, another group of six came. One
of them recognized me and told me that he followed my blog updates.
It
took me long to realize that I am a celebrity of sort in my own
little monkey kingdom, not because I am a blogger but because people
see me doing things they would love to do but cannot or wished to be
in my shoes. What you see of me you later read. I walk the talk. I
am real. I am not a product of hype. People love that and they can
relate with me and that is where it ended. It does not go to my
head. I opt to stay grounded.
Even
as I deny it, this blog Warrior Pilgrimage was considered for the top
spot in the Sports and Recreation Category in the Bloggys 2015
Philippine Blogging Awards and eventually lost to a professional blog
with an own domain name. This blog made it to the finals besting
more than 60 other blogs even if it is just riding on a free-platform
scheme as one of the “People’s Choice”. Ramon Jorge
represented me during the awarding in Taguig City last November 2015.
It brought me honor and this blog the recognition it deserve.
What
do I really blog? Well, I write the activities that had not been
done in the Philippines before: Bushcraft and Survival. How many
people, do you think, do that seven years ago? None. People are now
aware of Philippine-style bushcraft and how it is done because of
this blog. People who despise bushcraft before begins to see its
better values and made a paradigm shift. More people want to learn
and acquire real-world skills that benefit them. Blame this blog for
the Philippine Independence Bushcraft Camp.
I
also write mainstream interests like mountain climbing, backpacking
and small-scale explorations which I enlarged into the Cebu Highlands
Trail Project. I sometimes blog my home life, my commentaries and my
memories here. Some gears get reviewed and people gets mentioned,
friend or fiend. Even my boring poems, it has its space here. Some
stories has sequels like the Man-Sized Hikes, Bushcraft Buhisan,
Compleat Bushcraft, Bebut’s Trail and, of course, the Napo to Babag
Tales which is now in its 118th episode.
Whoa!
I talk too much. I forgot that this article is about the last goat
of Ramon. Jerome gets hold of my Mora Companion knife and begins to
carve a forked branch into a catapult handle. How wonderful to see
Jerome doing that with so much ease and I pity those urban-smart
children missing this kind of skills which their grandfathers used to
do in their younger days. Blame that to overprotective parents who
liked to imitate Western society.
Fourteen
hikers came and five of them knew me. They are all friends. I just
sat and smiled and nod while they carry on to the next level. They
were on training for an out-of-town climb. They choose the best
place to train and I appreciate that. The next people coming after
them were from the Camp Red Bushcraft and Survival Guild. Good to
see Jhurds Neo, Aljew Frasco, Jonathan Apurado and roughcut Jenmar de
Leon with guest.
We
begin the ascent to Roger’s place where Ramon, Boy and Ernie are
now. I am hungry. Along the way, we meet 21 hikers going down the
other way. It is a long procession, slow in pace, as the trail is
loose and most do not have proper footwear. Once it was our turn to
use the trail, there was no looking back. There, inside a big
cauldron, is or what used to be Ramon’s last goat. It is now ready
for the feast and I am more ready to partake of that. After a prayer
before a meal, we commenced.
It
was reminiscent of the times at the remote place of Fele and Tonia
when we at the Camp Red Bushcraft and Survival Guild made it festive
every Sunday. The family was more than happy to host us as our
presence alone would earn them a little money for the sale of green
coconuts, firewood and our disturbance of their solitude. Sadly,
unwelcome circumstances caused painful changes. The
newly-constructed house bears testimony of how their neighbors envy
them of their fortune.
I
just hope that what joy we brought to Fele and his family may also be
experienced by both Roger and Zene, with or without goats. They
persevered on their respective places despite the threats of Nonoy
Gabisan and the adverse comments of their neighbors who considered
them outsiders. The Roble brood are not original residents here and
came to reside here due to the opportunity of earning income picking
mangoes and farming on the side.
They
were impoverished before but their fortune picked up because the
trail to Mt. Babag passed by their places. Hikers found their places
as a strategic location to rest and rehydrate. Jerome is in a very
happy state, so happy to see me and Jhurds and Ernie. He remembered
the fun times he had with Josel when we frequent the latter’s place
more than a year ago. I let him use my camera until the battery
conked out. It is okay. I loved it because it placed Jerome to
tinker with technology.
I
have plate after plate of caldereta and rice and how I wished
someone brought a strong liquid to aid in digestion. The rest of the
meat is divided between Roger and Zene and so was the rest of the
food. The useful administration of the goat had left a peace of mind
in Roger, Ramon and, to a lesser degree, me. We talked the minutes
away until it is time to leave. Jerome will miss us again and he
will know not when we will come back. I secretly slipped a hundred
peso bill into his hands and it made him forget our leaving for a
while.
I
will be back, of course, but it will not be in a dizzying recurrence
as before. It will now be few and far in between. It would still be
one of my playgrounds. I am thinking of reviving the now-unused
Ernie’s Trail but to a limited extent concentrating more on
bushcraft. Wild and remote places is what I need and so would my
adherents. Jerome would be a good guide and I would develop him into
a very good one.
Document
done in LibreOffice 5.2 Writer
No comments:
Post a Comment