The Climb

The Climb…

I first saw the looming figure of Mt. Matutum on my first visit to Dole Philippines School. As the shuttle snaked through the pineapple fields, I marveled at the majestic dormant volcano. The behemoth stood there with an overwhelming presence as if with probing eyes, taunting me, breathing down on my spine, beckoning me to conquer it.

It had stood there almighty through the ages mocking at puny mortals that stood before its presence. The mountain stirred something primal in me. An inner animal was awakened and despite ages and ages of evolution, the potency of the urge was undeniable, so raw, so instinctive. Nature was calling on to me and I had to respond to the call.

And so I made a pact to myself - I had to reach the peak of Matutum before my sojourn in Mindanao was over.

It was beyond rationality that I did the climb alone. Only the experienced or the suicidal would have done that. Looking back maybe I had been a bit naïve not to have foreseen the torture that was lying ahead. Had I gotten a glimpse of the pain that I had to endure I might have had reconsidered.

It didn’t start out as like that. My fellow project engineers at Dole Asia had an agreement that we were to climb Mt. Matutum together.

But I knew human nature too well. Oh yes. Something always comes up at the last minute. One by one, my colleagues came up with excuses why they couldn’t make it – some were pretty lame actually. Even Jessve, my best bud at that time, who had had been roaring to go, had to work overtime at the last minute.

And so in the end, it was a tough choice of canceling the climb altogether or me braving the mountain alone.

But I had a pact with myself. And it was a pact that I had to keep, no matter what.

As fate would have it, I conquered Mt. Matutum – my first mountain- on a Good Friday. It also fell on a Friday the 13th. Superstitiously, the attempt was unthinkable. God was dead at that time (from the words of the elders), not to mention the unlucky Friday the13th.

But luck had nothing to do with it.

It was by sheer force of will that I made it through. True, there were times along the path that I was almost tempted to give up. It was a long, arduous 9 hour-hike, that seemed like an eternity. Legs buckling from the weight of my pack, lungs screaming for air, body begging for water; the climb was all about pain.

But when I reached the summit an incredible sense of euphoria wrapped my whole being. No words could aptly describe the happiness, that I felt. All the sufferings that I went through were worth it. It was as if my heart would burst for joy. I felt one with Nature and for that brief moment, time stood still and I was on top of the world.

It has been six years since I conquered Mt. Matutum yet I could still feel the sense of achievement as if it only happened yesterday.

Which was why when Jesse James invited me to climb Mt. Sembrano…I knew that Nature was calling on me once again.

The call was blaring, so compelling and relentless. I just knew I had to respond to the call…(to be continued)

Tour of Panay Part Six

It was a blessing in disguise that my butt was getting numb. At least it was distracting my mind that something horrible was going on in my alimentary canal. The distraction has done the trick because miraculously we were able to reach Kalibo without me dislodging a gruesome concoction of biological warfare.

Despite the stomach upset I still managed to appreciate the plaza of Kalibo. It had a huge resemblance to Baliwag, Bulacan - the way the church, the town hall, and the Jollibee store are intimately huddled around the plaza. We went to Jollibee thinking it had the prime seat in town, but a quick trip to the washroom revealed a rather jaw-dropping display of humungous IFO’s - “Identified Floating Objects” in its lone toilet. Good thing my intestines still had some class- they refused to budge, obviously horrified at the dismal sight.

Notwithstanding what I just saw, I was still able to eat. I only ate light. I did not want to exacerbate my digestive organs. I totally lost my appetite when I noticed the striking similarity of the hues of Jolly Cheezy Fries and the IFOs. Bon Appettit !

Libong suggested that we proceed to the bishop’s house which was also in front of the plaza. Bishop Romy Lazo, the current bishop of Aklan used to be our parish priest in San Jose. He was a ninong on Libong’s wedding and our kuya’s playmate in tennis. Unfortunately Bishop Romy was in another town that day and there seemed to be no one inside the bishop house.

My bro prodded me to try the toilet at the gasoline station instead. From previous experience I knew that gasoline toilets would be far much worse. I assured him I could still manage it and then gulped down another tablet of Immodium.

He advised me to buy adult diapers just in case my “baggage” becomes unbearable along the way. I thought he was joking. He was dead serious. He warned me that the rest of the way would be mostly boondocks.

I assured him that in case things start to get out of control I would put to test my interpersonal relationship skills. This would mean randomly selecting a decent household and warning them that all hell will break loose if they don’t allow me to use their CR.

At times like these I get to fully comprehend Khalid’s eternal dilemma. Khalid used to be my housemate in Krus na Ligas. He arguably has the appetite of a velociraptor but his stomach is belligerent. In almost all the gimmicks of the KnL gang, Khalid would always have an intimate session in the washroom after every meal. It came to a point that folks called him Mr. Tae – Ang taong kumakain para tumae, at tumatae para kumain. ( Hi Khalid!!! Hehehe)

As Dennis would jokingly say, Khalid’s life cycle is about eating and defecating.

But my life cycle is about adventure. I have a tour to finish. And no uncooperative what-the-f*%k-is-wrong-with-you-why-are-you-doing-this-to-me-now stomach is going to stop me from finishing it.

Tour of Panay Part Cinq

Boracay didn’t disappoint me. I just stood in awe at the white sand that seemed to stretch endlessly. It was truly a spectacle to behold and the next thing I knew I was lying down on the sand feeling being one with nature.

But the island was so touristy. Lots of people were walking by and somehow it spoiled my commune with nature. I’m a people person but there are times when I wish I were just alone to contemplate in silence. The beach and the flock of people somehow just didn’t jibe together.

I had a good time contemplating. At those precious moments of silence I feel that the past and the future melt away and the only thing that mattered was being.

My still-elusive dream of building a house beside the sea came back to haunt me. I felt sad that for the past few years I have deviated from my long-term goal. Maybe I got so myopic and became part of the rat race in the metropolis. Sigh..

I never really had the chance to enjoy the night on the island as my tummy ached. Good thing my bro brought loperamide tablets. I would have wanted to check out the best shakes that Aimee recommended or pass by Cocomanga’s with famed row of drinks good to make the next 3 days of your life hell as my sensei claimed. Instead I spent the night lying on the bed with frequent trips to the CR.

We left the island around 9 am. I felt that one night in Boracay was too short (and too lousy considering the stomach upset) but in my mind I knew I would surely get back again.

As the boat was leaving the Boracay port I received a call from Lester. We discussed mostly work but I took time to gush in the highlights of the tour so far. It felt surreal hearing his voice on the other end. Manila which has somehow faded in the deep recesses of my mind suddenly jutted unto my consciousness. I once again had to grapple with the coexistence of two contrasting worlds.

We went on our way. Dark swirls of clouds gathered from the distance and the seas were rough, we barely had time to pause and take good shots. We had to stop twice because of the downpour.

One of my biggest regret was not being able to get a picture of a creepy house somewhere between Tangalan and Makato. The house loomed ominously amidst gnarly acacia trees. Defiant, it had withstood the wrath of time. Even from a distance I felt a chilly presence that lurked behind its grey walls.

If I were a horror movie writer I would explore the plot of motorcycle riders forced to set camp in an abandoned town without electricity. Unbeknownst to them the place is aswang-infested. And the action would happen at nighttime. There will be chase scenes ala-Blair witch project on a motorcycle. One by one the travelers would meet their doom as they fight to stay alive until daylight. Of course the protagonists would have to make it. That would be me and my bro. And the shooting location would be the house I just saw.

However at that time, a different horror story was unfolding. It involved my stomach and two tablets of Immodium I took that morning. The rumbling I heard inside indicated that the tablets might not have been effective at all. We had to reach Kalibo fast. Or else….

Tour of panay

The year was 1995. My college bud Anton and I were planning for one great adventure. It would have been Tawi Tawi but he missed the Solar Eclipse Expedition.
We knew life isn’t going to be as exciting after college. Job. Marriage. Kids. Saving the world.
So we planned for one big high before we finally take on bigger responsibilities.

In college, you have the time and the energy but you don’t have the money. So gradually we came up with a grand plan that in 10 years time once we set aside a considerable amount of money we were to take 2 weeks off from our jobs and take a tour of Panay by foot. It seemed to make sense. We were both from Panay Island, I from Antique, He from Iloilo.

Who were we to claim we have conquered the world when we haven’t claimed our own backyard?

The plan was simple. Tour Panay Island by foot. We would walk along the shores and set camp along the beach. The entire island in 2 weeks. Our last hurrah.

Simple yet brilliant. It all seemed fascinating and achievable back then…

Fast forward to 2006. After I went to Mindanao, Anton and I lived on different planets. We would occasionally meet and catch up when I pass by Manila or when I pass by Iloilo
Anton and I have long abandoned the idea. (More like, we have totally forgotten about the said plan). Looking back, it now seemed pretty foolish. Two weeks off the job? That would have been asking for the moon.
But last April when my brother Orville proposed the idea of a tour of Panay by motorcycle, the boy in me couldn’t resist the idea of one great adventure. It was like getting in touch once again with the idealist in me.
So on the morning of December 27, the 2-day tour of the island began… (to be continued)
(Tonio, lam kong mababasa mo tong blog… Di man natupad yung great plan natin noon, this I think is a worthy replacement, don’t you think? Pagbalik mo galing Tate someday, bili ka kotse and we'll tour Panay...Yeba !)