THE
BOAT THAT I AM boarding is beginning to get full. I hate to travel
in a passenger season. Mrs. PinoyApache insists that we should and
there is no other time or other way. She would go to her place of
childhood to celebrate fiesta in her village and then spend a week
there and Christmas. Going with us is our son, Rocky, and grandsons
Kurt and Jarod. Good thing, we are travelling light.
Today
is December 19, 2015 and the TransAsia boat is scheduled to depart at
19:00 for the Port of Iligan. I looked for our cots but people are
already occupying there and feeling comfortable. It is really
confusing and chaotic. Some cots are assigned to two persons.
Passengers are complaining. To placate us, we were assigned cots
with different numbers by the lady purser and then another set of
passengers came to claim theirs which we are now starting to feel at
home. Shucks!
We
were supposed to leave yesterday for the Port of Ozamiz but it was
cancelled due to inclement weather and my wife had to arrange, in her
typical street smart way, for us to be accommodated with this boat to
Iligan. Typhoon Nono is wreaking havoc in Luzon while Tropical Storm
Onyok is threatening Mindanao. Because of these two weather
disturbances, people are being inconvenienced.
Two
personnel from the Philippine Coast Guard assigned to MV TransAsia-8
begins to count passengers before the 19:00 ETD. The boat stalled
for more than an hour and a neighboring boat bound for the Port of
Cagayan de Oro left its berth. The Coast Guard does another recount.
Waiting. It is already 22:30 and our boat had not budged from its
berthing space.
Meanwhile,
the lady purser is deluged with a crowd of complaining passengers.
It was not really her fault though. Some crews reassigned cotless
passengers to ones where there are legitimate occupants such as ours
without her knowledge and she gets all the blame. I suspect, some
crews are very enterprising in passenger seasons. The lady purser
did a good job of checking her irritation and seeing to it that all
passengers have cots to rest during the trip.
The
Coast Guard does another run of counting people using a smartphone
application. Ingenious! Later, chance passengers are forcefully
sent off the boat. There may have been discrepancies between loading
capacity, actual passengers and the travel manifest. In the old
manual way of counting, these may have been easier with money talking
but, with phone apps, it gets very complicated. The boat finally
leave port at 23:30.
I
wake up at 05:00 the following day – December 20 – with the boat
rolling on the waves amid sea. The southern end of Cebu is still
visible while up ahead clouds indicate a land mass. The boat canteen
only sells instant noodles and water at a price! Good thing brunch
was distributed else it would have been very stressful for us
passengers. Once the boat entered Iligan Bay, the rough seas begins
to mellow. It slid through Kiwalan Cove and docked at the Port of
Iligan at 11:00 and we got off it fifteen minutes later.
We
transferred to the terminal and choose an airconditioned bus bound
for Pagadian City. It is a nightmare at the terminal as passengers
jostled for space to get into the bus door. I forced my way in
heaving my Habagat Viajero above my head where I settled at the
farthest end of the bus. I see Jarod and my wife and, later, Rocky
and Kurt. We stood on the aisle for a long time waiting for the bus
to move – about 20 minutes – and when the bus travelled for the
Port of Mukas – 130 minutes.
I
get to see the rest of the coastal towns and communities of Lanao del
Norte which I failed to do so during my stay in Kiwalan when I was a
younger man in 1986-87. When the bus stopped at the junction to
Mukas, we literally hit the ground running and filled quickly a
parked tricycle bound for the port. Everybody were in a hurry and we
have to imitate everyone, in “World War Z” fashion.
We
settled at the uppermost deck of the “roll on-roll off” vessel as
it slowly lurch across the Bay of Panguil at around 15:30 towards the
Port of Ozamiz. It was just a 30-minute ride and the stress of
travel is beginning to wear off on my entourage when we learned that
relatives would pick us up once we are in Ozamiz City.
A
red Toyota Avanza arrive with SPO1 Michelle Fosgate driving and her
sister Ayen Abuton as companion. We stop for a meal first at the
first Jollibee outlet we saw and proceed without much further ado for
Barangay DC Mantos, in the town of Mahayag, Zamboanga del Sur. It is
already dark when we arrive at out hosts' (Michelle and Ayen)
bungalow. A room is assigned to me and my wife while another room
for the boys. It was a tiring trip and an early rest is most
welcome.
The
following day – December 21 – is the eve of the feast of the
community of DC Mantos, which was known by its old name of Sicpao.
First thing in the morning, Vilma and I visited their family cemetery
which is just walking distance. There is a hint of a sunny warm
morning, even this early. Some of my wife's relatives came to meet
us and we all get updated of events during our absence. The last
time I was here was in 2000. Vilma and the boys were here two years
ago and their connection here are still current.
The
younger ones gets on to ride motorcycles with their younger cousins
while I just stayed with my wife and gets a waft of the carabao meat
that is now being cooked at the back of the house where there is a
dirty kitchen. I understand, there were four swamp buffaloes that
were slaughtered at dawn and some of the meat were brought here. I
went to check the back if there is anything I could do to help.
I
have brought a Leatherman PST and a Victorinox Trailmaster and, maybe
I could help. Both have sharp but small stainless-steel blades and I
would like to test these blades against the tough meat of the
carabao. Across me the helpers found their kitchen knives getting
dulled time and again slicing the meat and they were using wrong
honing stones, which were the coarse ones. Taught them a better
material to sharpen their knives.
I
am summoned by a cousin of my wife, Aga Dilao, and I am whisked
astride a motorcycle for the direction of the main part of the
village into his home. They had prepared carabao food also as their
main fare and, oh, how I love carabao food! Another of her cousin,
Dandan Apale, and her brother, Jay Mantos, join me. A 750 ml bottle
of Tanduay Rum 5 Years is waiting at the side sans ice. This is
interesting.
Later,
another cousin, Brett Mantos, arrive and, seeing that the bottle is
half-ignored, took matters into his hands. He would be the “gunner”
and the bottle ran its course quickly than expected. It was served
almost full to a glass! Then a small bottle of Chivas Regal gets the
same treatment. I need to go back to Camansi immediately and Aga is
gracious enough to drive me back.
I
am tipsy and I am famished again. My wife provided me the main fare:
carabao meat! I got my taste of carabao stew (Local name: bas-oy)
and another carabao stew called “linat-ang
kabaw”. The
former has a bit of a bitter taste on its soup which I liked so much.
I willed myself to eat as much as possible. It is not everyday I
get to eat carabeef. I am not sleepy but I remembered carabao meat
being sliced at the back and I return to help.
In
the middle of my task of slicing the meat, both the Leatherman and
the Victorinox got blunted and I have to sharpen it against the
bottom of a ceramic cup and refined it with the bottom of an empty
bottle until such time I have finished my lot. In this comparison,
the Victorinox remained superb, by virtue of its longer blade length.
It even accidentally cut into the tip of a fingernail which such
depth that the other could not.
Finished
my task and take a rest reading Staying
Safe by Juval Aviv
until my eyes get drowsy and I slept. Woke up early evening, in time
for dinner. Carabeef. How lovely! There are carabeef soups of
“bas-oy”
and “linat-an”
and then there is carabeef steak. Then carabeef adobo is added to
the table.
December
22 – Fiesta Time. I opt to rest and forego breakfast but Mrs.
PinoyApache is insistent and I have to rise and take a seat around
the dining table. I am in her hometown and I have to tiptoe a lot
most of the time. The lady cop, meanwhile – Michelle – who is
our host, is going early to assume her duty in faraway Ramon
Magsaysay town and that leaves only Ayen to set the house on order
with all the kids and the teens.
With
almost nothing to do, I decide to visit my brother-in-law – Verio
Balat – and see what’s cooking? Some of the carabeef fare are
found there and I decide to munch some to pair it with the strong
rum. When I think I am a bit tipsy, I return to the bungalow and
take a well-deserved rest. I really need this vacation. I have been
working hard with my employer for a stressful eight years. After
this, I will work for a few days and pass my courtesy resignation. I
am done.
I
read the book and take lunch and read again. In the waning daylight,
I stole a motorcycle and decide to look for an Internet cafe which I
found on the next town of Molave. There is so much to do like
reading emails and scan my Facebook updates after an absence of five
days. Left after two-and-a-half hours and arrived just in time for
dinner. Slept early quite full.
The
morning after – December 23 – me and wife decide to visit his
ailing father. Suffered a stroke years ago and is taken cared of by
his other sons. He was not feeling well but was glad that we are
here. We go back and I return to my book, then eat lunch, and finish
the book in mid-afternoon, which is what I intend to. Now, I could
rest my eyes.
Waking
up near dusk, my eyes egged for anything to read and my attention is
cast on Michelle’s book, 7
Healthy Ways for Healthy Living.
I read a few pages when dinner is called. After a few social calls,
I return to the latest book and gain insights on how to live simply
and healthy, which is very appropriate, considering that I am
experiencing right now a good dose of luxuriant food high in fats.
The
house is busy today. It should be for everybody since it is
Christmas Eve. I go to the back of the house after breakfast to help
in the slicing of vegetables with my Victorinox. Ah, another feast
in the making. I bet carabeef will be replaced by another set of
food. When I am done, my natural instinct lead me back to the book
when lunch is called.
Two
different dish of fish are the main fare with local pasta on the
side. A bowl of carabeef steak – remnants of the last three days
of meals – gets its piece of table space which I cannot ignore.
The book is a magnet now and ever and I need to finish it before we
leave back to Cebu, which would be a day or two after Christmas.
By
mid-afternoon, I shift back to the dirty kitchen area to help roast
chicken and to rest my eyes from seeing so many letters. Jarod gets
his lessons roasting chicken when the urge of reading called my
attention. The comforts of a cool bed in a late afternoon rushed me
instead to dreamland.
Dinner
came and a lot of relatives are coming over for the Christmas Eve
supper. The house is full and I have to socialize. I believe, after
this meal, we all would go to Tangub City. I do not have an idea yet
but people are overly ecstatic at this chance. Two vehicles provided
by Vilma’s cousin, Doc Tuesday, and everything is in order.
It
is a cool night, as we cruise on an almost empty highway passing by
Mahayag, Molave, Tambulig and Bonifacio. After a series of lighted
arches, set apart each other by a kilometer and with different
themes, we arrive at this small city off the southeastern part of
Misamis Occidental. I have never been to Tangub in daylight but,
here I am, in the midst of a brightly-lighted city square.
They
have a Christmas-themed park stocked with famous landmarks of
different countries in almost life-sized replicas bedecked with
multi-colored LED lights, flowers and painted in pastel and gaudy.
Pagodas stood side-by-side with castles and wonderland which awed
child and adult and the not-so-rich and poor alike. Christmas is
really for the children and the children once in us.
I
wake up to a foggy morning. Christmas Day comes right on schedule
here in DC Mantos. I used to enjoy foggy Christmas mornings when I
was a child in my dear Cebu but it is all gone now and forgotten.
Maybe climate change has got something to do with that. For the
whole morning, I greet everybody a Merry Christmas and dole out P50
and P100 bills to child and teen. Me and Vilma visit her father and
I press for her right of a property due her which was instantly
approved.
The
rest of the day crawled lazily as I sulk my eyes reading. By late
afternoon, I stole again a motorcycle and proceed to that Internet
cafe in Molave and greet people in Facebook. Although there is a
festive mood in the air, most people insist in staying indoors while
a few walked in groups carrying musical instruments. I go back after
more than three hours suffering a seasickness syndrome caused by a
slow Internet speed.
I
finally finished the second book on December 26. I learned a lot
from this book and I may have to apply what I read starting 2016.
This book will guide my eating habits and my lifestyle next year
since I will be a year older and I have no more regular means of
income for I will be jobless. Before lunchtime, we surveyed the area
where my wife’s property is located. My eyes are fixed on a lot
which is quite advantageous to us.
The
last day of our vacation came and some relatives will miss our
presence, especially the cousins of our boys. I believed every day
and night was a party for them since they were all absent all the
time except when they need to take a bath, change clothes and ask for
money. We left in the afternoon in the same Toyota Avanza, this time
driven by my wife’s younger brother Arnold.
We
arrive at the Port of Ozamiz and we carry extra cargo of a sack of
rice, another smaller sack of sticky rice and a cartonful of banana
to a Cebu-bound ship. All the boys are in and I think it was a
wonderful Christmas vacation for all of us. We thank Ayen and
Michelle for insisting that we visit them and to everyone down there
who entertained us and accommodated us in any way they can. Thank
you and God bless!
Document
done in LibreOffice 4.4 Writer
