DAY EIGHT :::: SLEEPING HERE UNDER
A COVERED basketball court converted into a chapel was never part of my
itinerary. Neither that was part of the plans of Rev. Fr. Scipio “Jojo”
Deligero. We are now in between the villages of Malubog and Pung-ol Sibugay, in
Cebu City, and along the Transcentral Highway. We are simply here by an
unexpected circumstance. We simply ran out of daylight. It is the eighth
morning (July 13, 2017) of our pilgrimage of the Camino de Santiago of Cebu.
We started in the Municipality of
Badian last July 6 and, thinking of the distance we covered and the
difficulties the pilgrims encountered and overcame, I shook in disbelief. This
crowd are not hikers. They rarely travel on foot half a kilometer away from
their homes and their workplaces. Much less with the Hon. Joel Quiño, the
incumbent mayor of the Municipality of Compostela. He may walk down or up the
stairs to his office or bedroom but, once out of the doorway, he would rather
ride a government-issued car or his personal SUV to an official function or a
private family affair even if it is just 50 meters away for security reasons.
Much less Fr. Jojo. He could barely
perform his priestly duties as gout growing in both his ankles prevented much
of his movement. To think that the distance to the altar from the rectory is
just 20 meters long, more or less. Badian, Dalaguete, Argao, Sibonga, Barili,
Carcar City, San Fernando, Pinamungahan and Toledo City are now but history to
Fr. Jojo and is it not amazing for someone who hobbled instead of walked? We
are now in Central Cebu and are two days away to Compostela. Right now, the
pilgrims could smell the familiar aroma of home and their morale is
unstoppable.
It is amazing indeed! Even if I
could stretch the itinerary to three more days to accommodate the crawling pace
of Fr. Jojo, the accomplishment itself over an unlikely endurance to pain was
incredible. But sticking true to the itinerary is badass! It is like Fr. Jojo
climbing Mount Everest backwards. I cannot explain how he did it, especially on
Day One, but I can only tell you that Fr. Jojo was in a different level. We
have a term for that: mind over matter. On my part, I just shut off pain
receptors in my brain and it needs intense concentration practiced for a long
time. But Fr. Jojo’s way was different. His was meditation.
As breakfast is prepared, another
kilo of rice is removed as weight from my bag and that of Jonathaniel Apurado.
Better late than never! Along with that are four packs of spicy Korean noodles,
two fingers of chorizo Bilbao and 275 milliliters of denatured alcohol which we
used as fuel for our lightweight and very efficient Trangia and Alocs burners.
I slept last night in my hammock tied to square concrete posts. It was better
than my first option of a thick plyboard balanced over benches. The hammock has
a bug net while those who slept comfortably at first on the plyboards
complained of mosquitoes later.
We leave the covered
court-cum-chapel at 07:15 to the next destination. I have identified a
religious structure in the hills of Consolacion for that purpose, passing by
the villages of Sirao, Pulangbato and Pit-os but, like water, plans could
change on suggestions just like Day One where we got lost and travelled more
than what our feet and legs could accept. The latest suggestion did not come
from a local this time. It came from Fr. Jojo and he wants a parish in the
village of Guba as the next destination which, I am bound to look for ways to
get there.
We followed the Transcentral
Highway once more, going west and taking a smaller road that goes to the
mothballed Kan-irag International Golf Course, passing by the shoulders of
Mount Sibugay and into the famous flower gardens of Sirao, which I am visiting
for the very first time. The manicured flowery landscape is indeed a surprise
vista of this Camino de Santiago. The pilgrims even have their provisional
Camino passports stamped with the entrance seal of one of the garden resorts as
a sport. At this hour – 08:00 – it is already swamped with many visitors.
We proceed on following the shaded
road that passed by many scenic spots on the left and right of me. This is my
first time here but I do not have problems with finding the correct route.
There are people to ask of that and, for as long as you are polite, they give
you back their politeness. The day begins to go warm, you move to the curbs and
grassy ground to escape direct sunlight and the heated surfaces. Everyone are
light-footed, including Fr. Jojo, as the distance to Compostela is whittled
foot by foot.
There are a lot of people indeed to
ask questions. Most of them were warm in their conversations while a few were
aloof and evasive. Cannot blame them. Perhaps, bad memories of a sad chapter
when the barrios were swarmed then by idealistic strangers embracing rifles and
an alien ideology. It wears away very slowly and the sight of a group of
strangers like us could instantly trigger fear and suspicions. I am leading the
pilgrims and I am the first to see and feel. Body language never fails to keep
me updated.
We reach the village of Guba. This
is one of the most familiar names for a hinterland village in Cebu City because
it is not named after a plant or a prominent landmark like most places do. If
you translate it to the English language, the name meant “broken”, “damaged” or
“busted”. Long ago I chuckled whenever I saw public utility jitneys bearing the
name of Guba as it cruise the downtown area picking up passengers. I just could
not comprehend how is it associated to the hopeless when it is a beautiful
place with beautiful residents?
We arrive at the Santo Niño de Cebu
Parish at 11:30. We were really pinched off by the warmth of the day. The shade
of their covered promenade and their lofty location which catch cool breeze is
most welcome. Just sitting on a wooden bench there is enough to return your
strength and fix your awry nerves. We waited for a while as the parish priest
is running a personal errand for himself but once Rev. Fr. Pete Necesario
arrived, the mood of the occasion changed. It is always a good indicator of
happy moods when two priests meet, don’t you think so?
We were treated to a good lunch by
Fr. Pete. The soup was steaming hot notwithstanding the warmth of the day that
we have just hurdled and barely survived from and would soon be embraced again
anyways. It is delicious and who cares about the sun. Fr. Pete brought out the
entire banana, papaya and other fruits he had received from his parishioners as
offerings. We helped ourselves with eating all kinds of banana for soon it
would deteriorate if left uneaten. We even carried some, placed inside plastic
bags.
We thanked Fr. Pete and marched out
into the bare day at 13:15, stomachs full but bodies fully rested. From here,
there will be three more villages before we could reach the farthest limits of
Compostela. These places are not very familiar to me since I have not been
here. My guide would be local knowledge and that is where I aim to retrieve
most of the information for navigation. As soon as I got a good cellular
signal, I sent a text message of our location to the Operations Section of the
Cebu City Police Office. I get an instant reply and felt safe.
I reach a crossroads in the village
of Binaliw and I saw a group of uniformed policemen talking to some locals and
they were in a festive mood. They were not from the Talamban Police Station and
they were from another unit doing a different tasking. They do not know our
pilgrimage and they were alarmed at my sudden presence. I thought these were
the same policemen notified by CCPO to assist us. Not until I told them that
one of my companions is a parish priest and another one a municipal mayor, did
they lower their guard. It was a nice feeling to leave them all behind.
We reach the outskirts of the
village of Mabini and we saw another group of uniformed men resting on both
sides of the road. I talked to their officer and introduced myself and told him
the purpose of our presence. On the other hand, they were from the Philippine
Army and they were on a field training exercise. I can understand why there
were policemen. They were doing security for this. The problem is that CCPO
Operations failed to coordinate with their own units and on us since they knew
of our activity weeks before. I made it sure that they are notified properly
and early with my letter request.
Another close call and I thought
that was the end of it all. But it is a good thing if the policemen or the army
found our presence by themselves on the spot. What if a half-literate informant
would report our presence to them? That was what happened when our presence was
reported in exaggeration. An alert Army sergeant on another group of soldiers
asked of my identification card. I even gave him my letter requests addressed
to the governor and the police even if he asked none of that. We were reported
as members of the Maute Group and he has to be sure that we are not.
Funny, but presence of government
forces made you more uneasy instead of feeling safe, is it not? It is ironic on
my part since I am a former man in uniform. How could that be? Communication!
Sloppy handling and disseminating of correspondence and messages could result
in confusion. In warfare, you lose battles. In peacetime, the very people you
protect will lose trust on you because your line of communication are full of
bugs and holes. CCPO is short of trained professionals handling correspondence.
If that is low priority on their order of things, innocent people like us
pilgrims could get hurt on mere rumors.
I understand we had been walking on
a ridge for some time. I could now see a small glimpse of Metro Cebu. Across me
is Alvero Peak, the highest point of Consolacion, found in the village of
Garing. We arrive at the village center of Mabini at 15:30 to rest and
rehydrate and to ask for the quickest way to Compostela. A village peacekeeper
pointed to me a way to the Municipality of Liloan by way of Lanipga and Mulao.
I consulted Mayor Joel on this information but he preferred that we follow the
main road we are walking for most of the afternoon. We now know that down this
road is Paril, the last village.
It is a long way to the village of
Paril and we passed by lonely stretches, full of bends and turns, farms and
solitary houses. Also, when you go down a valley in a late afternoon, light
becomes duller and grayer, projecting dusk ahead of its time. As you are in
that situation, your footfalls tend to go quicker, so you could arrive to your
destination with daylight to spare. Unknown to me, Mayor Joel knows these
places very well and he had a calm composure and a cheery smile when I last saw
him. It simply does not matter if we arrive in darkness. This is his homecourt.
Schoolchildren streamed out of
their classrooms and are now company on the road. A lot of people to ask
directions to. I bypassed the village hall and followed a road that goes at the
back and crossed a small bridge. I am now on the side of Compostela. I remove
my High Sierra Titan bag and waited for them here. The stillness of the place
and the rest from the walk removed the stress of the day from my body and from
my mind. A few sips from my Camelbak bladder are enough to remove thirst and to
cool my body a bit. Ahhh, what a day. I believed my next destination would be
the village of Tag-ubi.
From out of nowhere a red-plated
white Isuzu pickup came from Paril and in it are Fr. Jojo and Roger. The driver
and a companion were here on the instructions of Mayor Joel so he could sign
checks for official government disbursements. The others have already crossed
the stream and are on their way minutes ago to the village of Dapdap through a
short cut, bypassing Tag-ubi. It is already 17:45 and, in a few minutes, it
would be dusk. I get inside and settled beside Roger. This road we are
traveling on are full of big holes and deep furrows caused by running water and
the driver has to drive slowly. It is much safe to just walk. Good thing, this
beast is in 4-wheel drive.
We passed by them in the last
minutes of daylight, which meant that they were making better progress on foot
than us inside the pickup. From them, it is but a mere 200 meters as the Isuzu
parked beside a well-built house. We are now in Dapdap. Coming towards us in
just a few minutes, with headlights, are Mayor Joel, Jem, Roderick, Mizar,
Alvie Rey and Jonathaniel. The last one arrived at 18:40. The house belonged to
the village chairman, Mayor Joel’s father-in-law, and we were welcomed to dine
there, as well as to nurse our aching bones and sore muscles. I will have my
revenge on my stinking body come morning.
DAY NINE :::: THERE IS AN ABRUPT
CHANGE in the face of each pilgrim. They are in a joyous and victorious mood.
It meant to them very much that they are now a day-and-a-half away from
completing the first Camino de Santiago in Cebu and they are now in their home
turf of Compostela. Today, July 14, 2017, there is not much to do except walk
leisurely and rest longer. The determination to reach Compostela, by all means,
has already been achieved. The stress and the pressure are beginning to lose
its hold on them. I have felt it too and it looks like somebody from behind me
just removed an arrowhead sticking out of my back. I have just finished
freshening up and I am ready for today.
I have been wearing for eight days
my dry-fit t-shirt provided by my sponsor, Silangan Outdoor Equipment, which I
used during my explorations of the last six segments of the Cebu Highlands
Trail and this, would be its last day. Silangan also provided me its
quick-drying elastic hiking pants during the Thruhike of the CHT which I have
worn for the last eight days too and would be so for this day and tomorrow. The
pair of Jack Wolfskin Kreisel 1 hiking shoes, provided by Niño Paul Beriales
for the Thruhike, have seen better days and is still much in demand for the
Camino Cebu, although the traction have lost some of its zeal.
The High Sierra Titan, 55 liters of
storage space, is now lighter and it would be much lighter still tomorrow – the
last day. This bag which was provided by fellow blogger, Gian Carlo Jubela of
Adrenaline Romance, have helped me complete the last half of the CHT and, in
this Camino de Santiago, the big storage is a plus, as well as its comfortable
shoulder straps and waist belt. I carried the name of Titay’s Liloan Rosquillos
in all my activities and I made it possible that the pilgrims consume and
supplied with this famous indigenous pastry called the rosquillos.
My blisters are healing well and I
am bronzed dark to too much exposure to the sun. My meshed shawl, used to so
many occasions outdoors, has protected my face. A pair of dark glasses provided
by Zue Fashion, which I used during the Thruhike, protected my eyes from glare
and harmful UV rays. Inside my bag are my primitive cook set, Trangia burner
set, Camelbak bladder, taffeta sheet, hammock, two spare t-shirts, used elastic
undershorts and socks, flip flops, survival kit, first aid kit, fire kit,
William Rodgers camp knife, Mora Companion and Victorinox Trailmaster. Secured
outside is a map case, journal and a Therm-a-Rest sleeping pad.
We depart from Dapdap at 08:30
after another filling breakfast. This Camino de Santiago, I noticed, is hiking
in style compared to the Thruhike which I did for 27 days from January 17 to
February 14, 2017. That time I ate spartan meals and the best part of that were
warm suppers. It is nice to have Fr. Jojo and Mayor Joel as company for,
without them, the pilgrimage would have been subsisting on simple fares of
instant noodles, instant soups, energy bars, bread, coffee and limited rice.
Also, with them, conversations with suspicious locals become smooth and trouble-free.
The dirt road led us to the village
of Mulao. This one I am familiar with. Been here last year to rendezvous with
my transport after the Philippine Independence Bushcraft Camp. We passed
through it today. Strangely, I am not leading the pilgrims anymore. Mizar is. I
am now crowding Jonathan at the back. I enjoyed the moment of being released
from that responsibility. No more stress. No more worries. No more thinking.
The Holy Rosary is prayed and, this time, I participated for the first time.
It was a good moment for a mayor to
exchange pleasantries with his constituents. As for the priest, his
parishioners. Whenever we walked, people would stop to greet Mayor Joel and Fr.
Jojo. Sometimes, people would stand on their frontyard and waved their hands.
We stopped by a small kiosk and the villagers offered us jackfruit. It was a
stress-free moment for a mayor on leave when a caravan for St. James the
Apostle, led by Rev. Fr. Gonzalo Candado, passed by. One of the passengers
happened to be the wife of Mizar and they had a tearful but happy reunion. The
caravan went on its way while we bade goodbye to the old folks.
We arrived at a place called Tagasa
at 10:00, in the outskirts of the village of Basak. We rest in a stag farm
owned by Mayor Joel. He is a fighting cock breeder and organizes stag derbies
during fiestas and special occasions. We just sat and talked while drinking
cold softdrinks. At exactly 12:00, our food is delivered by a private SUV. The
sun shone hot and the shades were most welcome. Some of the pilgrims dried
their wet clothes on makeshift clotheslines. As soon as it is 13:00, we proceed
to our next destination, possibly, our host for the night.
We reached it at 14:30 and what a
pleasant place to be in. It is a local resort called Gatubod Spring Resort.
Mayor Joel chooses a long house and, for the first time in this Camino, all the
hammocks are used. Colors come in red, blue, black and pink. After 17:00, when
the resort will be closed to the public, the swimming pools will now be ours. A
kilo of rice and four packs of spicy Korean noodles becomes our dinner. After
the meal, we each gave our testimonies about our expectations of the Camino de
Santiago and how it changed our personal convictions. It was a beautiful
evening.
Total Distance Walked: 33.81
kilometers.
Highest Elevation Gained: 2,047 feet.
Document done in LibreOffice 5.3
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