Saturday, December 24, 2016

A LONG WEEKEND IN BAKHAWAN

I JUMPED AT THE OPPORTUNITY of an invite by a good friend to plant trees in her just-acquired property located in Bakhawan, Daanbantayan, Cebu on September 9, 10 and 11, 2016. The invitation assures me of staying (and dining) in her modest, home-like and very comfortable resort, Bakhawan Beach Home, at no cost at all to me. Not only that, the privilege extends to a young couple – Bogs and Bingle – whom I tempted to volunteer with me and give back for Mother Earth.

We three arrive at Bakhawan Beach Home in the early evening of the first day where we were immediately assigned a room. I insist to sleep outside on a cushioned divan so both Bingle and Bogs could have a sense of privacy. My friend, Lani Perez arrive an hour later where dinner was instantly served. A strong, but very quick, downpour came in the late hours but it had not ruined my instant bed nor it influenced me to transfer somewhere warm and sheltered.


Lani is an old friend of mine. We knew each other during the days when I was active then with my former outdoors recreation club – the Cebu Mountaineering Society. That was in the early ‘90s and she was then in the process of poking in on my close circle composed of younger but very opinionated members. Work and her passion of excellence took her abroad and I had not heard of her until we messaged each other in Facebook just this year.

Bakhawan Beach Home is the other sum of all her life’s work as an expatriate in different foreign lands. She collects old wooden furniture and tools – in her free time – that were discarded by modernism and she insists to preserve these, even if it costs her, and brought it here. These items became part of the internal and external décor of the two rest houses inside this very private beach resort.

Bakhawan Beach Home is a sponsor of my Cebu Highlands Trail Project which, as of this writing, will be terminating its course soon in November after I will walk the last few kilometers, starting from where it last stopped, at Lake Lanao, Daanbantayan, to the northernmost tip of Cebu – Bulalaqui Point. In fact, it provided billeting for me and my team last August 19 when we passed by here during the Segment VII Exploration Hike which was aborted the day after.

The night is cold but I am warmed by the body cushion, the pillows and the blanket under a deep awning facing the sea. It rained again in early dawn with flashes of lightning. Strong gusts blew and threatened bringing with it spray of salt and water. I refused to be awakened and snuggled closer into the warmed up recesses of my blanket. My mind wandered off into space and senselessness.


Sounds of surf materialize into my consciousness. There is light in the sky and my eyes could not deceive me that it is now early morning and the start of a new day – September 10. The sea is a calm mirror but a slow tide made its presence felt. After a breakfast of freshly-caught fish in soup, a dish of raw fish in vinegar, egg omelet and fruit, I prepare my work clothes and my tools which are just my Victorinox Ranger Swiss knife and my William Rodgers bushcraft knife.

Lani had informed me that the young people I have seen last night had planted seventy young cacao trees yesterday in an open lot. I would plant today green limbs cut from Mexican lilac trees (Local name: kakawate) between each young cacao as what I have suggested. Bogs and Bingle would help me with that. Both brought their tools like trowels, work gloves, a Victorinox Camper Swiss knife and a Tom Brown Tracker imitation.

The purpose of the Mexican lilac tree is to shield the young cacao from direct sunlight with its foliage during the time it starts to bloom. It is a fast growing species which is not obtrusive on its neighboring plants even if it is an introduced one. In fact, it gives off nitrogen and oxygen into the soil system making it fertile. The Mexican lilac is one of those exotic ones that have adapted well in Philippine clime and soil and highly valued by farmers and herders.


Lani showed us first her garden of organically-grown vegetables and herbs. Her Indonesian pepper variety has my attention for the ripe fruits were a gleaming healthy red. Then she has her pride of dragonfruit crawling cacti starting to flower. I have brought her one cutting which came from a wild-growing one that grew in the wilderness of the Doce Cuartos Mountain Range of Tabogon last August which is now showing signs of life.

Laborers were already at the scene and have started fencing off the property from grazing animals. Poles of mahogany wood were transferred from a small truck to the vacant lot. I carried four thin poles on my shoulders and place it down in the collection area. I scan the field of young cocoas. Between it are spaces wide enough to accommodate a bush that will “mother” them. In two bundles are the green limbs of Mexican lilac trees.

First of all, I have to make a digging stick from one of the poles. I chose a thick one and begin sharpening it with the faux Tracker. Then I started to dig hole after hole while Bogs and Bingle fill it up with soil and the upright limb. It rained, removing direct sunlight, cooling us a bit, but after that, it was difficult work. Sticky mud and humidity.

I have counted 35 holes but I still have to dig 25 more until one laborer with a digging iron decides to join me. In a matter of half an hour, the planting of the Mexican lilac limbs were finished. I brought more poles nearer to where the laborers were making the fences. I loved the labor even if it cuts the skins of my palms. I do not mind it. The exercise of my upper body is a good preparation for my Segment VIII in a matter of weeks from now.


When I found I have proved my usefulness, I depart from the scene and cross the road to a wide open space where sea and sand are accessible. No, I do not want to bathe. I just want to cool my body with the breeze as the warmth of humidity is now becoming a nuisance for comfort. After 15 minutes, I walk back alone to the resort and found Bingle and Bogs already there.

The sea is not that high enough to tempt me into it. Nor would the young couple. I decide to take a shower instead to tidy up for lunch would soon be coming. By the time Lani came from the field, it was served in Bakhawan Beach Home style which, to me, is such a splendid thing. All the ingredients came from her garden and from the sea delivered fresh and sparkling like the sea urchins and squids.

The afternoon saw Bingle and Bogs hurrying up to dip in the water and both tried their hand on a paddle board but I while my time instead reading a book. I expect an old friend to arrive soon. He did arrive, early enough to partake of another wonderful meal of spider conch, conetip shells, squids, seaweeds and more of the garden stuff.

Bebut Estillore was the most opinionated among our close circle of that era where we were young once. Despite the onset of years, Bebut is still my “tormentor” but his boast and his grand battle with the bottle is now losing its sheen. I guess, too much of that in the past – without me - have caused him to slow down. He just came from Bohol and was also invited by Lani to plant trees of which he will have his day tomorrow.

For the meantime, we shared a big bottle of the coldest Red Horse available, which were aplenty. Anyway, we had a deal. He would drink one glass only while I finish the rest of the bottle. Sounds fair. I believed there were six big bottles emptied as was the last count before I turned in half-drunk. I transferred to another divan on the second guest house in the wee hours of the night.

September 11 is the special holiday dedicated for the followers of the Islamic faith called Eid’l Adha. We will plant more trees today on the same property. There were poles to transfer from the truck to the ongoing fence work and the young trees in its temporary pots to the places where it will be planted. The rains of yesterday had made the ground wet, soggy on some parts.


Another upper body workout for me. My hands are still sore but I would not dig holes this time. I will just plug the holes with the young trees along with its complementary soil – gently with reverence. I place sweetsop, soursop, avocado and Malabar almond as well as bougainvillea within the fringes of the lot. Bebut crouched while he can and he looks like an old man now with his sombrero and a very unfamiliar slowness which is kind of strange from someone who was so hyperactive before.

We finished the work before noon. Another wonderful meal. After that, I joined the rest frolicking on the sea. Lani paddled the board to the farthest buoy where an empty small fishing boat is anchored. Bebut and I decide to try our skills with a small outriggered canoe and paddled in the direction of Lani, where the water is deep. The fisherman was catching his fishes underwater with a spear.

A squall begins to appear coming from a nearby island and we have to paddle back to shore. The seas became rough while the strong gusts carried us off course. Lani made it safely to shore while the wooden vessel was unwieldy but I steered it to shore safely and dragged it beyond the water line. The squall left as quickly as it had came. I washed myself with fresh water and retreat to the comfort of book and reclining seat.

The day wore out as last days would always do, kind of sad and a longing for the familiar. It had always been like that and today is no exception but the hope of coming back in some future date is something which is always cherished that the departure blues cannot rebuff. I have felt this ambivalence of emotions when I came here last April. I am sure I would be back to Bakhawan Beach Home. It is like another home but spacious and cool where the sky kisses the sea in a scarlet wonder of a setting sun.


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Saturday, December 17, 2016

NAPO TO BABAG TALES CXV: Monotony is Sweet

IT DOES NOT MATTER IF I had been here two days ago. The opportunity of working out myself on my sweat room without walls is welcome anytime. I do not mind the monotony of it. Maybe I am sick or it could be you but, I am sure, it has to be you. The YOU that have had no time for moments like I loved doing all the time or, if you do have time, you may be dreaming of those faraway spectacular places where the purse makes a difference. And how did you fared after that? Or how many times can you do it in a year?

Yeah...yeah...yeah...blah...blah...blah. I have heard that before.

No matter. There is hope after all. You have not mastered your own self and you are there on the fringes of your daydreams. You should shift paradigms and dig down into your roots, past that veneer of Western-style education where you are taught conventional thoughts, and that corporate hum-drum which generates so much stress on your body, your thoughts, your emotions and on your spirituality. You can escape all that and reinvent yourself every weekend and learn to accept the mother of all monotony by being unconventional for just a day.


Try the Babag Mountain Range in Cebu City. IT IS just THERE!

Elevation does not matter, my friend. It is the effort and, conversely, there is so much freedom of movement and access, that effort seems to be just a footnote, to include your expenses. You can not spend so much just to climb over your fears. Ask some of our friends from Metro Manila and they will tell you how they have wished they were born in Cebu or were working here. You are so fortunate that this mountain range is right in your backyard yet you disregard it for somewhere else.

Explore your own backyard instead. Learn the game of Monotony.

Start with just a few friends. When I begun to reclaim my place in the outdoors in 2008, I hiked from Guadalupe to Napo to Mount Babag (752 meters) and back each Sunday of each month. FOR ONE YEAR! When I have gained enough stamina, I roamed confidently the Babag Mountain Range and beyond. Even beyond that very moderate monotony of one weekend day for it increased into four Sundays of each month. Anyway, when you start being adventurous, you develop good relations with local residents first for they know their places very well.


Fast rewind: A look at the past.

You know, I used to climb mountains in faraway places during the ‘90s. After Mount Apo (2963 meters), you have to cross international borders to feed more your ego of chasing dreams and higher elevations. For an ordinary laborer, that would be extravagant and unthinkable. Running a household and providing education to your children are more important. I admit, I started on the wrong foot but, at that time, climbing peaks were bohemian. It was years later that I am no mountaineer after all and no desire to be. It was just the wrong choice of words.

Remember this: Big mountains demand big pockets.

The word mountaineering has a special ring to it. It is associated with the legendary individuals who made their living off the forbidding peaks of the Himalayas, the Denali, the Karakorum, the Andes, the Alps, the Caucasus and the massifs of Antarctica. All above 4000 meters! All technical climbs requiring all fours, experience, more time, coils of ropes, gears and special equipment and they were all appropriately dressed. All can afford it because they were backed by big industries who loved to plaster their names on every inch of space of synthetic fabric and by paying clients.

Forget mountaineering. Be realistic. Just be an ordinary outdoorsman.

That is what I am doing now. It is September 4, 2016, just another long sequence of monotonic Sundays. Working out with my fellow outdoorsmen belonging to the Camp Red Bushcraft and Survival Guild. Another dirt time. We are above Camp Xi and are in a low ridge that goes up to the Babag Ridge but we do not have to walk all the way there. We stop whenever we find a good place to enhance our cooking skills and, of course, to indulge in a quiet feast. A real fire has just been started and soon we will have coffee. It is good to be just a lowly bushman.


Monotony is sweet but it will not be forever.

While access to places in and around the Babag Mountain Range are very much free, why go to places where entry fees and all other charges, invented or not, gave you so much stress instead of escape from it. I can always read people ranting in Facebook about these things and I could not understand why these same people keep on going back to these places and rant again? I rather choose monotony. However soon, I expect stupid foreign-sounding subdivision names claiming the foothills here and make access difficult for us. Possibilities like these are just around the corner. It happened in many places.

The great outdoors workout.

The mountains and all that is found in nature nurtures the mind and makes it sharp. It expands its curiosity into nooks where you had not been to yet. That could have been alright with you in your expensive treks but you are restrained by time. In the Babag Mountain Range, you are not and you could do it anytime you wished. I just discovered today a small waterfall and a surviving marang tree (English: Johey oak) which the oldest locals never even knew of its existence. A possible heirloom species. Then there is a cloud rat that has no fear of my presence. These are small discoveries yet it ensures my workout of mind and body is going perfectly.

What lies beyond?

The Babag Mountain Range is the seed of where my great exploration of the whole backbone of the Island of Cebu which metamorphosed into the Cebu Highlands Trail. These often-ignored mountain range developed me into someone which, twenty years ago, I could not have even comprehended. When I stood on that ridge of Babag in 2008, I looked beyond the other side and saw my dreams unfolding before me. There was bigger country out there and there were more mountains and trails. And then there was me.


Post-euphoria remedy.

Why go to these spectacular places just to be seen in your social circles? I know how you feel when you open your Facebook account and you are reminded of a memory of your impressive trip of three years ago. Most of us go to places only once in our lifetime and, sometimes, twice but, I am quite convinced, you can do it many times as you would wish as long as it is realistic, achievable and cheap. Sometimes, it takes just common sense. Monotony is part of that.



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