up the mountains, down the caves

we left Manila at around 11pm on a Florida bus -- first destination : Banaue.

it was a 7-hour ride with 2 stopovers along the way. there wasn't much to look at from the window so in between naps, i listlessly stared at the road ahead instead, lulling myself into dizziness so i could nap again. Tarits who was sitting behind us was sound asleep while Cinch who sat at the right side of the bus next to us was dead to the world and quite very comfy for she has reserved 2 seats. one for her to sit on and the other for her feet. ha-ha!

we reached Banaue at around 6am. what a breathtaking sight! our first stop was at People's Restaurant for a quick breakfast. we sat on the balcony drinking our first cup of coffee while savoring the feel of fresh wind on our faces.

after gathering all our belongings, we rode a tryke going up to our accommodations for the night in Hiwang -- in a traditional Ifugao house. our guide, Charles, informed us that Judy Ann & Piolo Pascual used that very same Ifugao house for the movie "Don't Give Up On Us".

the first thing i looked for was the comfort room. there it was -- an outhouse actually, about 8 meters away from our Balai. i had to laugh when i saw the toilet bowl. it was i think just about a foot from the floor and i figured once i sat on it, i might not be able to stand up again.

as soon as we have dumped our bags, off we went for a little sightseeing and picture taking. pomelo and lemon trees were everywhere and i excitedly pointed them out to P.

we passed by the market on the way back to the balai. Charles and his friends took it upon themselves to charbroil the pork ribs for us, giving us time to look around the area before dinner. i loved everything around me -- the mountains, the rice terraces, the clouds, the native houses and carved chairs. Charles generously gave us a carved wooden stool to take home for Ayel.

it was only 4:30 in the afternoon but the clouds were already dark and the mountains silent. the only sounds we heard were that of our own voices. while we girls were having dinner, P and the boys were drinking around the bonfire, speaking in Ilocano.

we had to sleep early for our trip to Batad. Tarits told me that Mark and Michelle were on their way to Banaue and will be joining us in the morning. P and i am used to taking showers before sleeping and today was no exception. i knew the water would be cold but i hadn't anticipated it to be freezing. when we got out of the bathroom, we were shaking all over.

P and i woke up before 6am. we hurriedly gathered our things as we were scheduled to move to Banaue View Inn. a few minutes later, Charles arrived with Mark and Michelle. we took some more photos and went down to have breakfast at Greenview Restaurant.

our room at the Banaue View Inn was facing the rice terraces. wouldn't it be nice to wake and see that in your window every morning?

the rented van was already waiting downstairs. after changing into something comfortable and ready for action, we traveled to Batad.

it took us about an hour to reach the top of the mountain (at least i thought it was already the top, but then again, i may be wrong) where the trekking starts. but we had to take pictures first. everything was wonderfully beautiful. i never saw so many mountains in my life.

Charles said we must have a wooden stick on our way to Tappiya. as soon as everyone was equipped with one, we started trekking. we were all laughing and taking photos during the first few steps down.

50,000 steps later (i didn't count but it felt like it), we stopped by Hillside Inn for some drinks, provision and breath. Tarits said we have to order our food now so it will be ready when we return. it was 11:00am. we started walking again.

Charles said the entire walk towards Tappiya is about one and a half hours. "noooo..." my feet menacingly whispered, "it's 3 hours..." and that's just going down.

80,000 steps more (i'm getting good at this estimating thing) and we could hear the falls. it started to rain when we got to the falls but we were all so excited. the water was cool and refreshing. after a few minutes of wading and splashing, we started back up. we reached Hillside Inn (and our lunch) at around 4pm. i had ordered "pizza" while P ordered pancit canton. hungry as i was, the pizza was a gastronomical disappointment. i gave it to the cat instead.

it was getting dark. Charles was feeling a bit woozy and Cinch was battling with her injured knees. the trek going back seemed longer. we weren't even halfway when darkness prevailed. P surprised me -- he could still see the path while i saw only darkness. good thing Tarits had her flashlight with her and patiently directed the light to the path ahead. i was walking in a trance-like state, watching P's every step, unmindful of the ravine to our left.

and oh... Charles was right about the wooden stick. when my legs and knees were threatening to go on a sit-down-no-more-walking strike, it was the wooden stick who acted as arbitrator.

halfway towards the hike, we got separated into two groups. P, Tarits and i walked several meters ahead while Cinch, Charles, Mark and Michelle followed behind. we rested for a while and i told Tarits i had to pee. "go ahead," she said, "it's dark anyway...". and so i did, right beside her and P. hee-hee...

when we were about a hundred meters away from the starting point, i wanted to say, "what would we do if upon reaching what we thought was the top but upon looking around we discover we were right back at the falls?" but i dared not. it wasn't a good idea to joke about something like that when one is scurrying to get out of the forest.

upon seeing the lights from the van, my energy zoomed. i walked faster and took my cellphone out of my pocket. cellphone signal!!!! i hurriedly called home. R was already worried that he hadn't received any text messages or calls from me the whole day. after saying goodnight to Ayel, i went inside the van and massaged my legs. we were all quiet on the way back to the inn.

upon reaching our room, P went with the others to buy water and snacks. i sat on the balcony and stared at the lights below... and thought about my two little girls. i've wanted to take Ayel along with us... but sitting there with my legs and thighs all stiff and throbbing, i was grateful that we didn't. minutes later, P and i took a cold bath (the hot shower was not working) and went to sleep. we're off to Sagada the next morning.

P wanted to have breakfast but it was too late. the others have finished theirs. packing our bags, we were ready for our trip to Sagada but we did some last minute souvenir shopping first, and of course, some more photo shots. i bought some wooden carvings, native bags and a hand-carved chair for Ayel. P fancied the hand-carved ifugao house made of narra. golly, P and i would have to think about how to take those wooden things home. later... later...

on the way, we stopped here and there along Bontoc for some pictures. we passed by Chico River -- it really is the longest river in the Philippines. we also visited Bontoc Museum, took some pictures before finally hitting the road to Sagada.

we had lunch at Masferre. it was the one meal i truly enjoyed during the course of our trip. then we headed straight to Residential Lodge -- towards a bed.... mwaaaaahhhh!!!!

we rested for a while before heading to Sumaging Cave. Cinch begged off, preferring to have her legs and thighs massaged by the local masseur instead.

our local guide Ben, said we were going 250 meters below. my thighs and legs were aching from the previous hike but i went on. we went down on hands and knees but it was fun. the funnest part was when Michelle refused to let go of the rope thinking she would fall into deep waters. she laughed hysterically when she realized the water was just below her knees.

we managed to get out of the cave alive. and whole. after Sumaging Cave, we stopped by the burial cave and stared at the ancient tombs. i was now walking funny with my legs and thighs aching every which way.

when we reached the inn, P and i showered and went down for dinner. all i wanted to eat was toasted bread and fried egg. P on the other hand wanted some vegetables that would go well with bagoong isda so he ordered fried talong. Michelle, Mark and Tarits ate out while Cinch slept on.

after dinner, P and i decided to make some coffee and watch tv at the inn's living room. a few minutes later, they joined us. Apocalypto was a nice and serious movie but we managed to make funny side comments and adlibs for the characters.

the next morning, P and i waited for the bus that will take us to Baguio. the others will take the afternoon trip. upon reaching Baguio, P and i went to Session Road and did some shopping -- jams, peanut brittles, the usual. then we went to Mines View Park to pass away the time. we were supposed to meet with the others but P was not feeling well so we headed back to Manila.

it was good to be home again. Ayel and little Anya were still up when we arrived. how i've missed them. P and i had a great time with friends up in the mountains -- it was a much-needed vacation away from stressful routine. but during the trip, there was one instance when i wanted to cut short our vacation and run home.

we were in Hiwang (Friday) when i received a text message from my mom, prompting me to call home. after that call, i locked myself inside the bathroom and cried.

Ayel has been used to seeing me home at around 6:30-7:00. when 7:30 came she became restless and would only brighten up each time the dogs barked. she would ran towards the door crying "Mami?!?"

taking my mom's hand, Ayel prodded her to walk outside towards the main street to wait for me. as they stood in the waiting shed, Ayel kept saying "Mami... Mami..." it was getting cold outside so my mom took her back in.

it broke my heart to hear Ayel's voice on the phone. R said Ayel was kissing the phone as she was saying goodbye to me.

P and i have plans of making several trips from hereon. Corregidor and Vigan is next on our list this year. one thing i've realized about our trip up the mountains is that i could never make another vacation without taking the little girls along with us.

we've survived Tappiya... we've conquered Sumaging... i'm pretty sure we can manage two energetic little girls and several baggages on the side.

for the complete travelogue, visit : Back to Banaue & Sagada Travel Blog (by tarits) http://realtravel.com/banaue-journals-j7745431.html

d a d

he is a man of very few words, quiet, unassuming, his dark skin tanned by site inspections and games of tennis. he was my father-in-law and i had been married two years before he finally spoke to me.

oh, he would sometimes ask "have you eaten?" or "why aren't you sleeping yet?" or "where's Mom?" or "where's B?"... but it was only two years after that he opened up, spoke and laughed with me.

i used to wonder whether he resented me for having married his son so early, or if he simply didn't like me. i used to watch him sitting across me during meals... he barely spoke or batted an eyelash. he just sat there, quietly consuming his meal while everyone else has had something to say.

months went on and the only thing i could say to him was "would you like a cup of coffee?", or simply hand him an ashtray. i do not recall if he even looked at me but everytime Mom went ballistic towards me, it was him who stood in the middle. not really saying anything, but it was enough to comfort me.

things began to change the first time he asked me to cut his hair. each time his hair would grow, he would ask me to trim it and color it black to hide the graying ones. i would tease him about his thinning crown of glory and suggested a fancy toupee to make him look younger. a toupee, and a smaller eyeglasses frame to whisk 20 years away. he would heartily laugh, and then grow quiet. i always believed he was contemplating on doing exactly that.

when i took up Physical Therapy, i used to hitch a ride with him going back to Manila. we talked a lot during those long drives, the topics of which i dared not tell my husband, much less Mom. our talks were sometimes serious but often times they were ridiculous stuff and it's funny how i can always make him laugh. he was no longer a father-in-law, he became my dad. he shared things with me that i guess he would not be so willing to share with his own children.

other times, he would take me to site inspections. or if he has to attend a meeting, he would leave me in the car to sleep the time away. along the way, he would ask if i was hungry each and every time we pass by a fast food joint.

he used to drop by the office where i worked to inform me that he won at their poker game the night before and hand me a few bills. "balato, pandagdag sa panggastos," (a hand-out to help dent your expenses) he would say. he is also a good singer and we often videoked, one-on-one, songs from his era. when i got good grades from my PT subjects, he rewarded me with a mid-cut caterpillar shoes. i still have them with me.

when B and i separated and finally got annulled, it felt like i also lost a father. it took a while before we got in touch again. not on a regular basis, but we do -- on special occasions, on not-so-special occasions, or simply no occasion at all.

Happy Birthday Dad, i sure miss our little chit-chats. take care of yourself always and thank you for being one great father-in-law. you were one of the nicest part about having been married to B.

P.S.
i hope you got the pictures i sent of your great granddaughters Ayel and Anya.

learning from the past

a recent experience brought back memories, prodding me to ask myself just what does it take to be happy? or to be content? or at the most, be thankful?

when R's dad left several years ago, i was not only laden with debts and bills to pay. i was also a single mom who could barely make both ends meet. with lawyer's fees and a son in high school, i was in an awful lot of mess.

my employer graciously offered any assistance he could extend to me which i politely declined. i've lost almost everything i had -- the last i could hold on to was my self-respect and dignity. besides, i didn't want to be accelerated from an abandoned wife to a pathetic loser.

i had friends who listened, consoled, empathized and made me laugh and that was more than enough. i didn't want them feeling sorry for me. i was not dying anyway... i was merely going through life. but lying awake in bed every night, i desperately wished i had a sister.

while each waking morning became a struggle, each day end was an accomplishment. and the more i felt depressed, the more i focused my mind on work. i put up a brave front and exerted more effort to look and sound happy.

i've realized that when one hits rock bottom, blaming everyone around but myself while wallowing in pain and misery is the best thing i can do to keep me exactly where i was. no one else can take me out from the rut but myself so i slowly climbed out, learned new crafts, new recipes, redecorated the house, did sideline jobs during weekends and earned a degree along the way. when you are in the pit of depression, the most that friends and family can do is throw you a rope -- the climbing out part is something you have to do for yourself.

i never regretted having gone through all that. problems and experiences are not supposed to distort my morals or eat away my values. they came to mold and enhance my character, making me a better, humbler person with each blow.

friends and acquaintances describe me as strong... and i hope am. but i was not born that way. in fact, nobody is ever born that way. i used to be a weakling who thought of jumping over the bridge to get away from it all. it was my faith that gave me hope. after coming home from work, i would pass by the church and sit in the front pew fervently praying for strength and courage.

the strength comes after. after the tears... after the pain... after the forgiving... after the realization that i had to muster the courage to help myself if i wanted to survive.

happy? that is a choice only i can make. content? i always have been. thankful? every single day.

ayel

Ayel is now one year and nine months old. she is a bubbly, cheerful little girl, curious about everything around her. each time we take her along with us, we come home exhausted after a whole afternoon of running and keeping up with her. she says "hi..." to every little boy or girl she sees, talks with sales clerks in department stores, and sings along while dancing whenever she hears music. i'm not sure what she's thinking, but my guess is, she's enjoying a happy childhood.

baby anya

she is a healthy, chubby baby girl born January 2008. we call her Anya and she is Ayel's baby sister. it sometimes surprises me that she is now almost six months old. three weeks ago, i had to laugh when i found out she recognizes each one of us and would extend her arms to the family member she wishes to go to. and just yesterday while my husband P was holding her, she cried to me (with arms extended) as i was going out the door. i smiled... little Anya wants me to take her with me. how come i hardly noticed she is learning a few tricks on her own...?

with only 14 months between them, our attention is more often focused on the growing Ayel and the new words and antics she has to amaze us with. still being a "baby" herself, she demands our full attention -- always energetic, up and about, very very curious and dangerously playful. she has discovered that climbing stairs, chairs and tables can be fun.

Anya is of a different temperament. i love watching her as she plays in her crib... quietly nibbling at her toes and fingers then sucking on her thumb till she falls asleep. other times she would play with her little pillows or raise her legs up and down, giggling to herself as her little feet hits the mattress. the only times she would cry would be for milk, a change of nappies, or a bath.

i often wake up a few minutes before little Anya does, and that's before 5 in the morning. i would quietly get up from bed, prepare her milk and wait till she stirs from her sleep. as soon as she opens her eyes, her lips would slowly break into a smile, cooing softly at the sight of her bottle.

but this morning was different. i was awakened by soft thuds coming from little Anya's crib. i glanced at the clock -- 3:05 am, and she was awake, raising her legs up and down and giggling each time they went down. i called her name softly... the thuds stopped. slowly i came towards her -- she was looking at me, smiling.

"mmmmmmaaaa....", she suddenly said.

i was about to give her the bottle but had the urge to pick her up instead.

"come, baby..." i whispered.

it was a cold rainy morning. wrapping her with a flannel blanket, we sat on the sturdy old table beside the window, listening to the sound of the rain falling on the roof.

my loot box

i was doing my usual weekend routine of tidying up when i saw my son's grade four school project hidden from behind a stack of cd's. it was my wooden "loot box" where i kept my toys.

excitedly, i placed the broom and rag aside, sat amidst the pile of dirt on the floor and positioned the box in front of me. it had been what, three? or maybe four years since i last wore a pearl bracelet. as i lifted the lid, the maroon pearl caught my eye -- it was (and still is) my favorite. latching it onto my wrist, my mind raced back to the time when these pearls made my weekends bearable.

newly single, depressed and with no place to go, i found myself wandering along tiangge stalls that looked like a pearl haven. hurrying home after buying a strand, i started working on my new-found hobby. i came up with two bracelets with still a few loose pearls leftover. i smiled with content at my creation and wore the bracelets in the days that followed.

no longer dreading weekends, i started looking forward to days off from work. when one is depressed and on the verge of hopelessness, then yes, money can buy 'happiness'... so every saturday from then on i would be found amidst the tiangge stalls to buy me a strand or two. my pearl collection grew and in different colors--maroon, gray, pearl-white, green, orange, gold, blue, metallic green, violet, peach, yellow, lavender, pink, silver... stringing those pearls into bracelets made me lose track of time, making me feel a little less alone. turning them into bracelets gave me a sense of accomplishment and something to smile about.

now, what's so special about them? what exactly is a pearl?

a pearl is a natural gem created by a living organism. when a foreign object is introduced into a mussel or oyster, the animal coats the irritant with a substance called nacre, the same material with which it builds it's shell. over time, the layers of nacre build up to form the pearl. the longer the irritant remains in the mollusc, the more layers of nacre and (usually), the better the pearl. pearls are judged and graded by their individual qualities - size, shape, lustre, matching, blemishes or lack of them. there's no 'better' or 'worse'. it simply depends on the pearl.

smiling now, it dawned on me that i used to be an oyster and over time i have made my own pearl. it's of every color imaginable -- colors that define love, pain, happiness, peace, forgiveness, hope and faith... it cannot be made into a bracelet, though, for i wear it in my heart.

suddenly, little Ayel's voice called me back. "Mami, ganda...!" (mommy, pretty...!) as she pointed to the pearls on the floor. i laughed, handed her the blue one and said, "come baby, we'll play with mami's toys..."