Friday, June 1, 2018

CAMINO CEBU JOURNAL: Day Three and Day Four


DAY THREE :::: HIS STRONG FAITH, CARRIED HIM to two days of difficult terrain, a blunder on the first day, extreme pain, unrelenting fatigue, fear of heights and a disdain of early morning baths. Rev. Fr. Scipio “Jojo” Deligero, suffering from problematic gout on both ankles, remained unshaken. If he dropped out on the first day, the first Camino de Santiago in Cebu would have been placed in a shaky debut. But the devil cannot have his party yet. We are still in the game. 

We have churned a total of 38.80 kilometers in 26 hours of walking spread in two days and that is unbelievable, considering that the people I led barely walked outside of their homes and workplaces. The long hours were caused by a controlled pace I imposed to keep Fr. Jojo in the flow. Let us see how the pilgrims would fare in Day Three? The worst happened in Day One. It is the crucible, the deciding moment, if ever a pilgrim should abandon or proceed with his pilgrimage.

Today, July 8, 2017, is part of the dance with destiny which started two days ago. Not just for me and the rest of the pilgrims but also for the Archdiocese of Cebu, the Province of Cebu, the Municipality of Compostela and the Archdiocesan Shrine of Señor Santiago de Apostol, the parish for which Fr. Jojo is performing his sacerdotal duty. To walk it is a sacred undertaking where your soul would benefit. Yes, it is a spiritual journey.

The Camino de Santiago is a route in Spain which is more than a thousand years old and is walked by millions of pilgrims to through so many generations. It follows the route of St. James the Apostle when he left Jerusalem to fulfill his vows as one of the chosen twelve. The journey starts from your doorsteps and ultimately wind up at Compostela, a place in Galicia, where our own Compostela in Cebu got its name. Fr. Jojo wanted a Camino here.

 
My pilgrimage indeed started two days ago from my home and I am now awoken by my preset alarm in the compound of the Our Lady of Immaculate Conception Parish, here in the village of Colawin, Municipality of Argao. After I had bathed, I am all set to hear an early morning mass to be celebrated together by Rev. Fr. Mario Villacastin and Fr. Jojo. I feel blessed to hear concelebrated masses for three straight days. 

One of those who walked his own Camino is the incumbent mayor of the Municipality of Compostela – Hon. Joel Quiño. Mayor Joel have prepared himself for this occasion. He would surely be missed behind his desk, along with those volumes of documents which need to be scrutinized, re-studied and signed. But where communication signals are present, he cannot escape answering the mobile phone.

The rest of the pilgrims are the couple Jemmelyn and Roderick Montesclaros, Mizar Bacalla, Roger Montecino, Alvie Rey Ramirez and Jonathaniel Apurado, who is my subaltern and is assigned to sweep the rear. Jon have fulfilled that task during that historic Thruhike of the Cebu Highlands Trail which we did in 27 days and 400+ kilometers from Liloan Point, Santander to Bulalaque Point, Daanbantayan.

This was the Thruhike that caught the attention of Fr. Jojo from which this Camino de Santiago is now being walked after being hatched just 3 months ago. This pilgrimage route here in Cebu, would start from the St. James the Apostle Parish in Badian and would end at the Archdiocesan Shrine of Señor Santiago de Apostol in Compostela. It would follow some stretch of the CHT which would be rugged, undulating and scenic. Instead of among bushes, we would sleep in rectories.

So there is no need really to carry those bulky tents but all of us have hammocks and tarpaulin sheets. Then again, I am beginning to question myself of the wisdom of bringing these hammock sets with them? The mountain parishes can accommodate any number of pilgrims in their rectories and where space is wanting they can always knock on the kindness of their parishioners.

If and when Cebu’s Camino de Santiago would become established and be renowned, the influx of pilgrims would create an economy which would favor the mountain communities found along the route. Mountain parishes are lonely and remote for any priest to be stationed in and can bring about the best in their sacred office or, hopefully, not their worst. A visit from people outside their places would lighten up their faces and break the tedium of everyday living in far-out locations.

I believed Fr. Jojo had foreseen all these things and it is his mission, a divine one, in spite of the physical pain he is enduring day in and day out. After our provisional passports were stamped by Fr. Mario, we left his parish at 08:00, walking up the road towards the next stop. The day is sunny and warm. In a few more hours, this warmth would be intense and would bore into each pilgrim’s resolve.

 
I am used to extremes of weather and the harshness of the mountain terrain but I cannot comprehend how they could still keep up with my pace, even if I deliberately controlled it. At this moment, pain would be most felt. Are they hiding something? I see now. They carried less. The heaviest would be water and those hammock sets. They need not worry about their food. Jonathan and I carried it all and there is no sign that the supply will ever be consumed. That would be less weight, if ever. But when?

The “Vegetable Highway” brought us to the village of Bae, in the Municipality of Sibonga. I sent a text message to the Sibonga Police Station about our presence. After more kilometers of walking and I did not see them anymore when I looked back. This road twisted among and along hills and valleys. I arrive at the village of Libo at 10:30 and waited for them. It is not difficult to find their way to where I am for there are habitations lining along the route where they could just ask directions.

After 15 minutes of waiting, I sent a text message to Jon. Signal is erratic and I gave up. 30 minutes became 90 minutes and my furrows are now deep. Just when I went back to find them, I saw them midway inside a police patrol jeep laughing. Policemen were dispatched by their station to provide security and assist us if need be. They already had and are now reluctant to drop them all here. I loath joining them in a free ride. An hour of ride would be about 4-5 hours of walking in the same distance.

I just hope that nobody would see us or understood what we were doing. That idea have not come of age yet but, to my conscience, that is cheating. Forget it. I am thinking like a human again. Leave that to God’s hand. I cannot question Fr. Jojo’s wisdom. His thoughts are much deeper than mine. I am just the pathfinder and the terrestrial navigator. Interpreting divine interventions are beyond my understanding. Navigation, it seems to me, has a parallel universe in the heavens.

The patrol jeep drop us finally at the village of Dakit, in the Municipality of Barili. They took a longer route. Of course, the policemen could not drive over a trackless mountain direct to the village of Mantalongon. It would need feet to do that on a trail that is still in my memory. Oh yes, I just navigate by memory. The CHT was explored, completed and hiked through without the aid of satellite navigation systems. I preferred traditional means.

We walk the Carcar-Barili Road until we reach Mantalongon at 15:02. This village hosted me and Jon last January during the Thruhike and it was not difficult to find the location of the San Isidro Labrador Parish here. Rev. Fr. Dennis James Acedo welcomed us to his parish and hosted a dinner later on our behalf. We stayed in the old rectory for the night and the rest was most welcome.

DAY FOUR :::: I WOKE UP THE WAY I liked it to be, earlier than 05:00, as is printed on the itinerary today, July 9, 2018. After taking our baths and breakfast, we left the San Isidro Labrador Parish at 06:42. But not after our provisional passports were stamped with the parish seal by Fr. Dennis himself. I was amused at the good priest doing everything beyond priestly duties to keep his parish afloat in such difficult times and it would be best I not tell you. The stay has given us plenary indulgence since it is the jubilee year of the church. 

We followed the highway going to the boundary of Carcar City. An unpaved road to the left would be our route to the next stop tonight. The pilgrims start to recite the rosary on its third day while I sent a text message to the Carcar City Police Station. We are now on the approaches of the village of Valencia and there is a brand new concrete road. It is a warm day and the weight carried inside my 55-liter High Sierra Titan had not changed since Day One.

When you are on concrete pavement you tend to walk faster. Your mind is analyzing the length and angle of the shadows. The sooner you get out from there, the better. Valencia is a highly populated semi-urban setting and that scene would repeat itself as we walk into the next village of Buenavista. Roderick, Jem and I waited for them in a small parish of  Santo Niño de Cebu. The shady trees on the patio shielded us from the heat of the 10 o’clock sun.

 
A text message from Jon woke up my Cherry Mobile U2. They were looking for us. I gave them my direction but they interpreted it through another route. Jesus, they took the wrong way and they are a half hour ahead. I did not retrace my steps but proceed on where one of these roads would lead us. I increased my pace and the couple Roderick and Jemmelyn are game enough to increase theirs. We crossed a big bridge and we are now on the village of Calidngan. 

My group arrive first at the San Isidro Labrador Parish at 11:30. After an exchange of text messages with Jonathan, they finally found their way and reach the parish at 11:40. Rev. Fr. Benjie Contapay arrived from his sacerdotal visits in one of the villages at 11:45. He welcomed us all and gathered his staff to prepare food for us. Just lying down on the bare tiled floor under the shade of a roof is most welcome. Siesta before a meal. Whatever. My body direly needed it.

We get to take lunch at 12:30. I took many servings. We like it. For this day, nobody touched their energy bars. Warm food is better. By miles. After the fulfilling meal and the cold refreshments, the temptation to go horizontal again is so strong but we have a long way to go. By 13:00, we say goodbye to Fr. Benjie and his staff and took to the rough roads once more and encountered our first rain. In an hour, we were now crossing over to the village of Balungag, Municipality of San Fernando and I immediately dispatched a text message to their police station.

At 16:00, we are now at the village of Tubod. A free-flowing natural spring refreshed us and we topped off our water bottles. From hereon, we would be traversing over the “carabao highway” towards the next Municipality of Pinamungahan. This is a trail that had been carved deep by many carabao sleds over the years and today I have seen and walked it for the very first time in its muddy state. It is quite nasty and tricky. I can hear angry and excited voices behind me. I slipped once but I cannot know of how many times each pilgrim had.

The slow progress carried us till dusk. By the time we reach a road it was already 18:00 but the presence of a store selling cold drinks brought back the pilgrims’ strength and composure. Across us is another trail, downhill and rocky. In daylight, you could see the Lamac Valley but it is better to negotiate it at nighttime with Fr. Jojo. He just cannot stand looking from a high place. He can never be a saint. You see, saints are placed on a high pedestal on the highest places outside of a church facade. Haha! Just joking.     

 
Guided by lights and by helping hands, Fr. Jojo made it safely down to the village of Sibago, in Pinamungahan. It is 19:45 and the other pilgrims kept asking me how far the village of Lamac is. Signs of fatigue and pain. They now felt it all. Who would not. I felt it too and the pain on both my feet are great as well as on my shoulders where the pads of my heavy backpack rubbed. We are now walking on dirt road and I was hoping to find a motorcycle for Fr. Jojo. It never came and, in these places at these hours, everything stops to a standstill.

Stepping on a concrete road raised everyone’s morale. A few houses still have lights and then, after more walking, the first local seen outside a house. We asked when there is someone out there. Nobody trusts people who travel in darkness. Everyone is suspicious of us even though we have a Roman Catholic priest and a municipal mayor in our midst. Of course, we do not advertise that with banners and megaphones. We are just pilgrims walking on the Camino de Santiago. We liked it that nobody shows interest on what we do. The hinterlands are quite different from urban areas.

At 21:00, after negotiating a few streets, we arrive at the San Isidro Labrador Parish of Lamac. Rev. Fr. Wilfredo “Boy” Genelazo welcomed us with a case of cold beer, cold lemon juice and a warm dinner since he knew of our coming. After almost an hour of happy conversations, Fr. Boy facilitated for our free stay inside the Hidden Valley Mountain Resort. As soon as I got settled for a half hour, I took a bathe. Dreamland automatically took over.

Total Distance Walked: 53.33 kilometers.
  Highest Elevation Gained: 1,961 feet. 

 

Document done in LibreOffice 5.3 Writer

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