NEXT STOPS

Dec 4-5 = Marilog (outskirts of Davao)
Dec 5-7 = Cagayan de Oro
Dec 9 = Kidapawan
Dec 10-11 = Maribago Blue Waters (Christmas party)
Dec 15-16 = Cotabato and Lanao del Sur
January = three weeks in Digos
February = forgot

Whew! Busy sked. Just as I thought December was going to be a bit more relaxed. But I'm also excited because these are places I haven't really been to. Well, except CDO. Those other places I was able to visit when we had our peace journey last week of October. But I was too busy taking pictures of the people, there was no chance to enjoy the place. More places with no electricity. At the least, I hope for comfort rooms.

I do fear going to Lanao del Sur because one of the Muslim volunteers has taken a fancy on me and this other girl from the Kabacan office (remember they can marry several women). After the peace journey, he just kept texting and texting and texting and texting. Agh. When I told him off and told him I didn't like being texted, he calls me. What the @#$*! Namilosopo pa! "Since you said you didn't like texting, I decided to call you." Hep! Had to shoo him away again. But then I was too nice, I promised to treat him normally when we see each other. Which I thought would not happen but apparently we have a day care center there, too. Waaaaah!

Action plan: show off a picture of me and my JVP partner, Q. I will then claim he is my boo (but of course I will ask Q permission first. If not then I would photoshop a picture or something!) just so he'd stop pestering me.

Warning: "Gusto kong makipagkaibigan lang sa iyo," in the rustic provinces is almost equivalent to saying, "liligawan kita."

Pictures of Biyaheng Bukidnon!

=====

REFLECTION AND RECOLLECTION

Fast forward to two days.

Riding the bus from Valencia to Bukidnon. There aren't a lot of passengers. My body is tired but my mind is full of thoughts so much as I would have wanted to sleep, I couldn't.

Around 530 PM, the sun was getting ready to set. I looked through the window. The greens and golds of the mountainside are slowly turning blue and gray. The azure sky turns into a kaleidoscope of pastel colors. My neck was aching from having to shift to the left and right windows because the road was zigzagging (worse than the way to Baguio, about as bad as going to Sagada).

Simply wonderful.

And then the sun was gone. It was dark. There wasn't any moon but the stars speckled the velvet night. I couldn't help but tell God, "You are just a wonderful God."

Fast forward to yesterday, November 28. The office had a recollection. Fr. Mon Bautista talked about vocation. I nod my head to most of what he had to say.

My thoughts for yesterday.

My dream to backpack around Europe might never ever come true unless I win some contest (but I never join any).
Having my own editing equipment could possibly just forever remain in my imagination.
Working for a production house will just be something I used to hope to do in college.
I may never get to buy just anything I want on a whim because I will always feel I could use my hard-earned money for something more practical.
I cannot provide for my mom ever (this makes me really sad) because my salary is just good enough for me.

BUT...
These are things I willingly let go. Without regrets.

There will be times I will wish I had more money, of course. But I will always go back to this realization when that happens: "MANY ARE CALLED, BUT FEW ARE CHOSEN."

Being the cry baby that I am, I was almost ready to cry during the sharing. Thank God, I didn't. But the feeling was overwhelming. I AM BLESSED to be doing what I am doing. Yes, I feel chosen. Not special, just chosen.

I remember the feeling I had when I rode the kalabasa truck. My smile was from ear-to-ear. I felt my God was seated right beside me enjoying the spectacular view of Bukidnon.

I remember the feeling I had when I was in front of the Nilagang Baka. I felt such overwhelming love of God. That was when I knew that God's love overflows. It has spilled on to me... and it was too much I couldn't contain it either.

JOY. I feel joy. Even with scarred feet, aching joints and a tired mind. I KNOW this is for me. Not destined by fate but blessed by God. I guess that is what makes my work wonderful... the idea that I am working with God. He has made me to be where I am now.

I willingly let go. Without regrets. I embrace the gifts God has given me. And they are plenty. My joy is in the children. My joy is with the people I meet. My joy is with God.

I may never have abundance in money. But I know I will always have abundance of love. And that alone is enough for me to say that I AM FULFILLED.
=====

Lord...
thank you for my family.
my friends,
for being who I am.

IMAGES: MIARAYON

Miarayon has always been a favorite area among Jesuit Volunteers. Whether they have been to the place or not. Must be the sunset there. Volunteers from there always have several pictures of the setting of the sun.

Anyways, it was my first time to go there during the cold season. I've been there during April and August. But these months are the best time to go.

I took a one and half hour motor ride from Kibangay to Miarayon. My 8 kilo backpack was a burden but I completely forgot about it with the spectacular view.

We rode at 330 PM. Quite late actually but we got lucky.

I will just give images because its 230 AM right now and I just want to get over my Bukidnon trip because I'm going to another one next week. Hehehe!

* to my left, the clouds were white and fluffy creeping along the crevices of what I reckon is Mt. Kitanglad.
* to my right, the clouds were dark and foreboding, a sign of coming rain. The mountain I think (but I am not sure) is Mt. Kalatungan.
* the whole mountainside was teeming with wild sunflowers... bushes and bushes and bushes and bushes of it. Everything was a shade of yellow and green. SO, SO, SO AMAZING! I wanted to stop the driver to take pictures but it we didn't have time
* we passed by a river. The river was flowing through rocks, the gurgling was pleasant to the ears. Lining the river were more sunflower bushes.
* violet flowers from wild vines were also cascading down trees
* golden corn plants ready to be harvested
* children everywhere
* the bumpy, rocky road which reminded me much of Rialto in Enchanted Kingdom. There was an incline somewhere where I wanted to raise my hands in the air and just scream "WOOOOOHOOOOO!" But I didn't as it might scare the driver so I just imagined it in my mind.
* the way to Miarayon was up and down, round and round. Fun!

The whole trip felt like a scene from "The Sound of Music..." I wanted to burst into "the hills are alive..."
Dudes, no need to go to Austria. Visit this place first. Tell me when, I'll go with you. You can sing while I twirl. :P

A RARE TARAY MOMENT

It was 6PM when I left Managok. They insisted I have dinner there but I adamantly refused. I wanted to take my rest. So Rhea (who lives five minutes away) and I left. A habal-habal stopped and gave us a ride.

When we dropped of Rhea at Violeta, the driver started conversing with me. I didn't feel entirely comfortable playing twenty questions with a stranger whose face I can not see. He asked me where I went, where I was going home, how long have I been staying there, where I really live. "What the fuck do you care?!" my thought bubble was saying the whole time while a slight paranaoia was taking over. Gave him one liner-half truths and vague answers. I lack the talent for lying on the spot, you see.

I was so relieved to see the main highway!

I gave him a 50-peso bill to pay for the Rhea and myself.
With a pa-cute smile. the driver goes: payts na ni (this is fine. note: payts come from "fights" which is bisayan slang for "okay")

I stare at him like he wa speaking alien. Then I go: sa ako, dili payts.

Driver: Pila man diay imong bayad? (How much did you pay? referring to my trip to Managok)

Me: Ten pesos.

Driver: Gabi-i naman. Ug dyip man imong nasakyan ganina. (It's night already. And it was a jeep you rode.)

Me: Dayon? Kining mga ingon ani, pag-istoryahan bag-o musakay. Dili pagkahuman. Hatagan na lang nimo akong twenty. (And then? Things like this, we made deals before we ride not after. Just give me twenty.)

So the driver gave me a twenty and left.

I rarely bitch around with services like that, especially since I know it is hard work they do. But I wasn't in the mood playing doormat. He made the mistake of prying too much into my personal affairs on the way that I disliked him very much to begin with.

Thank God he didn't try to run me over or anything. Whew!

SUNDAY SONGS

I was supposed to leave with Jong and Roy (the kumbento boy) for Miarayon at 10 AM. Guess what, he left CDO at 10AM because he didn't wake up early. So we left at 12NN.

The 1230 jeep just left when we got to the terminal. We were the first ones aboard. Since we did not have lunch, Jong treated us to some bread and softdrinks. More out of guilt than goodwill, I think. Tee-hee!

So while we waited, I could hear old 60's songs playing on the radio, somewhere in line with that "joni, joni please don't cry" song (what's the title of that anyway). Since Jong and I were having conversation, I didn't mind the music.

After 20 minutes, the jeep left. The music blaring was different already. Nonoy Zuñiga and Basil Valdez classics. "Sa panaginip na lang kita, mahahagkan tuwina... doon lang..." What can I say! Classic videoke tunes for you.

And then after another few minutes I could hear April Boy Regino and Renz Verano crooning their famous ballads. "Remember me kapag nag-iisa..." I doubt anyone would score pogi points singing that to me... unless he looks like and has the accent of Heath Ledger or the eccentricity of Johnny Depp.

More minutes after, it was Bon Jovi and his contemporaries' turn to shine. "It's my life... it's now or never..."

Jong was already asleep. The next songs I was singing along and bobbing my head to as it were classic Rivermaya and Eraserheads songs on the radio.

After they ran out, it was now Santana and Michelle Branch doing their collaboration "A Game of Love."

There you have it, the evolution of music in two hours. Cool huh? :p

NILAGANG BAKA FOR THE SOUL: Reflections

Whenever I need to stay overnight in Malaybalay, I try to get a room at the Jesuit Retreat House. The food is sumptuous and the aura of the place is relaxing.

I was seated at the round table alone. There was another group having a retreat eating their dinner in the other side of the room.

Dinner was nilagang baka, adobong kangkong, stir-fry mushrooms and sweet & sour fish. There was even rambutan for dessert! I was so overwhelmed by the quantity of the food. Not even at home do I get to eat that much viand. So I returned the fish (carnivore I am!) and half servings of the vegetable to the kitchen. Sayang naman kasi, they can still have it instead of feeding it to the dogs.

I held my bowl of nilagang baka and stared at the soup and said my grace. Instead of the usual “bless us, O Lord…” I ended up saying a thanksgiving prayer.

I thanked Him for having that much food while those kids I were just having rice and salt.
I thanked Him for the smiling kitchen people who cooked the food with love that it fed both the stomach and the soul.
I thanked Him for finding a job that I would love to do, work that let me dream again, a “profession” that I can be passionate about.
I thanked Him for good friends who support me and make my life more interesting.
I thanked Him for my family, who despite their distaste for my job, continue to be there for me.
I thanked Him for giving me a guardian angel who took good care of me.
I thanked Him for molding me into what I have become.
I asked Him to bless the children and their families I visited, that their day care centers may really be a source of hope and inspiration for the community.

The feeling of joy was so overwhelming, I didn’t want to stop praying. I just felt so blessed! My heart was overflowing, I was close to tears. But even prayers have to end so I said my amen. I ate my food with reverence, knowing for sure that this meal was special. That this meal I was sharing with Jesus.

I think I just had a taste of eternal life.

REMINISCING

The next day I went to a co-teacher I had when I was still in Pangatucan. Back then she was fresh graduate ready for the challenge of teaching boisterous high school children. Now, she is married and nine months pregnant.

Most of what we talked about were the good old days where we were really Ma’ams meaning: ma’amistahay, ma’amertdihay, and ma’ammaninay… Ma’am goes to fiestas, birthdays and christenings.

We chatted about many thins especially students who had the gall to court teachers and other suitors out to have a prized catch of a teacher for a gilfriend. The other girls got hooked while my partner and I just enjoyed the view. Yup, we are the female georgy porgies that made the men cry. Hahaha!

They were offering to cook native chicken.
N-O!

(I am still recounting the events of November 13, my fourth day away from Davao.)

ANOTHER SUSPICIOUS LOOKING LODGING HOUSE

It was 630 PM when we got to Valencia. I was a bit worried if I would still be able to find a place to stay for the night. I didn’t even want to try Imee’s. We managed to book the last room in Gene’s Lodge near the terminal.

When I was going in the compound of the lodge, there were big, pot-bellied men flocked together in one corner. Cars of all sorts were parked in the area. The whole scene made me think the place was actually a haven for philandering husbands.

Well, I didn’t hear strange noises in the middle of the night.

===
BREEZING THROUGH THE DAY

The next day I met up with the Chairman of BTFFI. Cool! Another product of San Jose Seminary.

Then I went to Nasuli (between Malaybalay and Valencia) to do some research on available IP workbooks. My, my, my! Heaven. From Aeta to T’boli dialects and cultures, they had materials. I salute these Americans for taking interest in our culture. May more Pinoys join the club!

In the afternoon, I met up with former JVPs who were now working for Cartwheel. Pasta for lunch. Yipee!

Craving for Pinipig Crunch vanilla. Desire satisfied by 6 PM.

JUST LIKE THE WOMAN WHO LIVED IN A SHOE

The kids were pretty excited about my arrival. Which made me excited to take a look at the day care center, too. But my companions insisted that we take a rest first and have our lunch (no surprise seeing stewed native chicken on the table again). So I told the kids to go home first and have their lunch.

After fifteen minutes or so, lunch was still cooking and I was just laying on the banig, I could hear the kids back already. I couldn’t make out what they were saying but I heard my name being said, so out I went.

They were there already! Wearing their backpacks and clean clothes. I started a conversation with them again.

Stupid question on my part: “unsa inyonG sud-an ganina? (What is your viand?)”
Daesy (yes, that is how it is spelled): “wala. Kan-on ra amo. (Nothing. Just rice.)”
Stupid, stupid me! I wanted to kick myself in the ass. And there I was complaining about eating stewed native chicken again.

Anyways, we had impromptu singing of children’s songs, recital of alphabet and numbers and adding fingers. Fun, fun, fun! I was copying their actions, even moving my hips. Who cares if I hardly looked graceful?

Made me wish I was the day care teacher instead of the monitoring NGO.

Lunch was finally called. Then we left for the day care center.

The kids were waiting outside the house while we were eating. When they saw me get out, each one started running to me and grabbed my hand.
“Ako ra gunit kang ma’am Angie. (I will hold ma’am Angie’s hand!)”
“Dili, ako ra (No, me!)!”

Who wouldn’t be happy with a job like this?

FORWARD RIDE

The usual routine of observing the class and meeting the parents. After some picture-taking, we went back to the house to get our stuff. It was two o’ clock and transportation would be hard to come by already.

We walked to the main road, where it is mostly carabaos and horses that pass through. Nila was hoping a habal-habal (a motorcycle with an extended seat) would come anytime soon. So that means that there is a possibility we would be stuck in Silib.

There was a parked truck full of kalabasa by the road. Men were loading the vegetables (or is it a fruit?) onto the truck. We asked the man waiting by the corner, too whether the truck would be going to Malaybalay. It was, so we decided to take a ride on it instead.

Yipee! The truck was more popularly known as a FORWARD. Why? Have absolutely no idea. And we won’t be sitting inside the truck. WE WERE TO SIT ON THE KALABASA! I have actually been looking for a chance to ride a vegetable truck since my JVP years and finally this was it!

When I travel for leisure (as opposed to work), I often try to ride top load of a jeep whenever possible. The view is just spectacular up there and the wind beating against your face. The feeling is the closest I can get to flying (unless I try bungee jumping, but I don’t know if I’m brave enough for that). So riding the forward was something I wanted to do. Our partners were a bit wary about having me there. Ako pa!!!

I climbed up the side of the truck (with much skill, mind you!) and found myself a railing to sit on, instead of the vegetables. When the truck started moving, I got off-balanced because I was trying to take footages of the mountainside. One of the guys stepped on my leg which gave me an additional wound. Tsk.

When it moved along, the feeling was great. I was smiling the whole time looking at the mountain sides. I’d duck everytime we’d pass by tree branches. Gashes on my legs are fine, but my face would be just too much.

For thirty minutes, it was sheer bliss. But it had to stop. The truck had to get more kalabasa from another town. It was okay for me tow wait but my companions was able to hail a multi-cab on it’s way to Malaybalay.

Dang. Multi-cab boring! Hoo well.

MORE SILIB STUFF

The students at Silib range from five to fifteen years old. It might sound funny to others seeing a teen-ager in a day care center, but these kids have no access to education whatsoever. Not even the next town (which is already kilometers and kilometers away) has an elementary school. Another sad fact about this country discovered. But I wouldn’t even dare get into the government’s incapacity…

Anyways…

There were only three sets of parents that went to the meeting. Because these parents had three-four children studying in the day care center. And no way could you impose family planning on these people as they have nothing else to do at night. Not the best conversations can keep the people warm or occupied every cold night.

WHAT COMES UP MUST COMES DOWN (ika nga ng isang artista)

It was time for us to go back to Lapok-Lapok. The scars of the previous days journey still stung when washed with water. Mud was still stuck underneath my toenails (I know, kadiri!!! Good thing we don’t eat with our feet. Euw!).

I psyched myself up, “mud is good. Models have mud packs, you know!” That was my optimistic self taking. My practical self said, “Hah! Not the kind of mud mixed with horse and carabao shit.” But I have been been through it yesterday, I can do it again!

So we walked on. They made me a makeshift cane to help with balance because most of the trip was downhill. When I saw the wide muddy road again… I gave a deep sigh and just got on with it. What else could I do!

So I slipped and slid, but never fell (yeah! Little achievements). There were only a few instances that I needed help. After I got a slightly deeper gash that bled a little, I had to let go of my pride and my sandals. I had to go barefoot again because my footwear was doing more damage than help.

At a certain point, I stepped on a thorny plant which embedded on my little toe. Youch! But I had to wait till we stopped at a river to remove it. After ten to fifteen minutes, we finally got to a river. I cleaned my feet up (the toenails have no hope until they land on a pedicurist’s lap!).

I got the thorns out from my tiny toe. That was then I realized I should get myself a Swiss knife (in my dreams, ang mahal no!). The little tweezer thingie would have been of big help that time. There was one I couldn’t get out. And until this day, it’s probably still there in my toe… Unless it melted away or something (biodegradable naman kasi).

And we walked on.

My companions kept asking me if I wanted to stop and rest. And I kept telling them to just move on. I’d rather rest straight out that bit by bit. Though I was a point that I was running out of breath. Maybe because I just drank half a glass of water before we left Silib.

When I heard a strong river current, my heart leapt for joy! That means we were near Lupok-lupok already. Yippee! The river boosted my spirits a little, though I was breathing harder now. The cornfields were a welcome respite from cogon and fern trees (!) and the forest. I thanked God for finally getting to a rocky road after traversing mud.

WORTH THE WALK

The road we were walking was cut from the mountain, so the houses were higher than the road. The tired feeling I was having almost entirely ebbed away when I saw the kids I met the other day waving down at us. Suddenly they were running to the road shouting, “si Ma’am Angie, to-a na! To-a na! (Ma’am Angie is there na!).” I couldn’t helped but smile and forget about the long trek. Moments like those made every step worth it.

YOU LEARN SOMETHING NEW EVERYDAY

When we were in Silib, there were a lot of interesting things I picked up from the people there. The tribe, if I remember correctly, are Umayamnons.

The visitors (that would be us) had dinner first, then the tenants. Having native chicken that night was a source of delight for the kids as it is not their usual fare for dinner. Most of the time, they would stuff themselves with rice and salt. What we had were served only during feasts.

After dinner, everybody gathered together at the center of the house. Several banig mats were laid out on the floor where the adults sat. The kids were either in the other room or the kitched. The PTA president and the day care teacher (it was her house, bu the way) was with us.

Melita (the teacher) brought out five FIGHTER WINE bottles. Fighter Wine, for some reason, is found only in Visayas and Mindanao. Maybe because it is manufactured in Cebu. I haven’t tasted the thing, nor do I want to any time soom. VINO KULAFU I have tried, which tasted like cough syrup mized with denatured alcohol. Ugh. What do you expect from a five-peso alcoholic beverage?

Anyway, they downed the five bottles in less than an hour (!). Amazing. While the tagayan was going on, Melita was relatying interesting things about their culture. Mostly on marrying rites of their tribe.

1. They still have arranged marriages, so children as young as ten can be married off to whoever.
2. She said that a house that displays outside their house, a plate with a coin dangling from it indicates there is a woman that can be married off. (Advertising, kung baga!)
3. The woman has no say who she can marry. If a man is interested in her, he goes directly to the parents for negotiations. Something like you can marry my daughter for P10,000 andtwo carabos. If the man and the parents agree, the bride will have no say whatsoever.
4. So if a guy is given a prize like P100,000 and eight carabaos, that most likely means they don’t like you. But if you are able to give what they ask… then they can not do anything about it.
5. There are “rogue” groups they call MAHAGAT who would kill people on a whim. They are located farther away from where we were.

===
NO PLACE FOR COMFORT!

The place would have been quite enjoyable if not for the fact there wasn’t any rest room. This is just my main dicomfort whenever I am in the area.

I remember one of my co-teachers in Pangantucan, Bukidnon telling us JVPs a joke.

Sabi ng mga Tagalog, wala ditong libangan… sabi ko naman, tingnan mo (pointing to the fields) ang laki-laki ng mapaglilibangan! (Libang in Bisaya means taking a crap. Hehehe!)

Not that I needed to take a crap. I just needed to pee. And they showed me where the comfort room was… the great outdoors. Ack! But rather take the risk of getting UTI, I just had to make do with what I had then... and that was the entire mountain. Oh well… I think I just robbed a dog of his territory. Hehehe!

Finally I am back in Davao after nine days of going around Bukidnon. The past week has been pretty tiring for me. Three provinces, four cities, six day care centers, numerous sitios and thousands of kilometers of traveled.

CDO

Sunday (November 8) I left Davao for a conference in Cagayan de Oro the next day.

Travel tip: Two merienda sized siopao from Chowking ain’t good substitute for lunch especially when you eat it on the first hour (10 AM) of the ride.

Got to my hotel by 4 PM quite famished. Devoured bacon cheeseburger sandwich in fifteen munutes at resto beside Casa Crystalla.. No fun eating alone. Waaah!

Looking forward for meeting up with JVP friends for belly-aching laughter. Only to end up at the middle of Divisoria (yes, there is a Divisoria in CDO) praying for stupid congressmen to wake up and bump their heads on a brick wall.

Hot choco at Dunkin’ Donuts while outside it drizzles. Yum, yum!


DRESSED TO KILL…

I was. A fashion guru would die if he saw what I wore. I wore my favorite embroidered blouse that looks crumpled (see I can’t even name the cloth or the cut!) and jeans. The clincher was my footwear. Pink tie-dye socks (I don’t like pink but this one is forgivable because it’s tie-dye, ok!) and my five-year old Sigu (the Mojos of Mindoro) sandals with tires for soles (I have a beautiful sole!). Wasn’t I grand? : P

Left the hotel at 9 AM when the seminar is supposed to be… 9 AM! Galing talaga ng Pinoy. Tsk. My companion felt there was no need to go early because the speakers we wanted to see were scheduled later in the morning.

Almost got lost, but not quite. Got at the seminar house. Whoa! Indigenous peoples (IP) of all shapes and sizes. Galing! Manobo, Ifugao, T’boli, Higaono… There were also lowlanders (what we are to the Ips) from Dep Ed, NCIP and NGOs (boring!).

We were supposed to listen to Sen. Kiko Pangilinan-Cuneta’s representative to give a talk. But no hint of the talk coming anytime soon. Instead there was an open forum regarding the issues raised during the past few days of the seminar. (Yes, I am an evil participant coming only at my own time. But that was the schedule given by bossing).

Most of the discussion circled on the issue of accreditation of IP schools but due to bad facilitation, many questions were left hanging and were not answered at all. Some participants would just give a repeat answer. Others would say something totally unrelated. What got to me were the IPs who were already crying from frustrations. One of them were saying, “bilisan niyo ang tulong sa amin kasi nauubos na kami!” And another went, “ang dami-dami-daming pumapasok sa community namin pero wala namang nangyayari. Naghihirap pa din kami.” Ouch. That hit me. But those matters were left unresolved by the facilitator. He seemed more eager to go to lunch. Grr.

But well. Lunch is lunch Kilawing isda and roasted fish. Not bad especially with the beach breeze blowing lazily Quite inviting for a siesta.

Session resumed 2 PM. Supposed schedule is Cong. Nereus Acosta of Bukidnon. Where was he? Probably at the impeachment hearing in Congress. Gack! Anubayanyunlangpinuntako!?! The session ended up being another workshop! No workshop for me.

My companion and I left already. I still had to go to Valencia, Bukidnon.

It wasn’t a wasted day. But neither was it fruitful either. Hooo well.


THE PINK CURTAINS SAVED ME

Our partner institution in Valencia made the reservations for my lodging house for the night. Have no idea where in would be. She said I would be staying at “Emy’s.” Called Nila and Emy’s for directions. Both gave the same instructions: magpara ng rela at sabihin na “Emy’s,” alam na nila yun.

Wow. Grabe! Assured ako.

After getting my 2 pc. Chickenjoy meal from Jollibee, I hailed a rela and said, “Emy’s.” Not bad, huh? I got a VG for following directions in nursery you see. (So?)

He makes a turn at this dark alley. I started getting wary. Wild thoughts in my head… “my right punches better than my left. And if I use my left dinner would tumble on the ground. But I’m a better kicker than puncher.” Talk about paranoid. That wasn’t my thought really. I just wondered if there were still people around. And there still were. So I still felt okay.

Finally it stops at “Imee’s Lodging House.” Hooo-kay. When with Visayans, think like one! Stupid girl, I am.

The room was tolerable but not worth the 700 bucks I paid for. The reason why it was 700? Because the TV had a remote. Spectacular logic. You get a D for d-uh! But at 8 PM in an unfamiliar place, no time to be picky!

Pink flowered curtains and pink flowered sheets. The type you use for grandmother rooms. Ick. Torture. The bathroom had a hole on the ceiling and the shower was rusting. 700 bucks for crap.

I slept at 11. Forgive me but I wanted to finish 9 Mornings. One word why. Piolo. ‘Twas cheesy and sappy. But again, one word. Piolo.

I started dreaming. Started out nicely. Darius and Chito of Parokya ni Edgar. Yipee! Somewhat similar to their Yes Yes Show MTV. Suddenly Chito turns into a monster out for my neck. Gack! Then I could feel my body unable to move. My throat felt parched. It was like a heavy weight was on top of me stopping me from breathing. I started thinking, I do not want to end up like Rico Yan in a hotel with pink curtains and bed sheets! No waaay! Started praying to my guardian angel. Finally I was able to move. It took me 30 seconds to gain courage to open my eyes. No weird apparitions or anything. Whew!

When I checked my phone it was only 11:45. It was only then I realized that I only had a glass of water to drink the whole day. And that was 8 in the morning.

REMEMBER TO DRINK WATER BEFORE SLEEPING. It helps reduces risks of nightmares. Dehydration is bad!!!

ACHING BUTTS AND NATIVE CHICKEN

The next day I gladly left the lodging house. Nila (our partner coordinator) fetched me from the hotel 6 AM. We got to Malaybalay around 8, where we were to ride another bus to St. Peter. At first we were waiting in this jeep the size of a small truck (no kidding!). There were already sacks of rice and corn loaded inside.

Tips when riding in provincial transprotation:

1. Sit nearer the driver. Sitting at the end is more bumpy and more people pass by your face.
2. Avoid sitting beside mothers feeding their children, especially egg. The food is bound to end up on your shirt, pants or shoes… partially digested.
3. Avoid sitting beside people eating especially fruits. Peel and seeds either end up hitting you in the face when thrown through the window or by your feet staining your shoe or sock.
4. Avoid sitting beside men carrying their derby chickens. Nothing much happens though except for ocassional crapping.
5. Don’t eat a full meal. Bumpy ride ahead. Your partially digested food might end up in someone else’s pants.

Fortunately the bus arrived. It is always less bumpy riding a bus than a jeep. I was so tired that even while waiting I was already falling asleep. I woke up somewhere along the way and got to witness the bus crossing a small muddy river. Got it on my video camera! Woo-hoo! Exciting.

I was too excited, I fell asleep again. I would only wake up when I could feel my head slowly going out the window. It wouldn’t be proper facing the barangay captain without my head so I should have it intact, di ba?

After two and half hours of rocky road, and my butt near-numb, we finally got to the place. The kagawad and the barangay captain brought me to the health center where we were to have our lunch.

I was famished. But when I saw the viand, my appetite went. It was native chicken, in soup and adobo form. Most of my friends in Davao love it. I have a hard time eating food that was once a pet. But I couldn’t choose. And I shouldn’t. It wouldn’t be right. So I ate. Delicious soup. But while looking for a piece I could handle I unearthed the head (complete with beak) with eyes half closed and the claw.

The clucking outside did not help me enjoy the meal either.

PUROK OTSO-OTSO

My first observaton would be at Purok 8. The kids were a bit quiet since I was watching them. They would snicker whenever my still camera would flash and ogle when my video cam would roll. The parents were looking from over the gap between the wall and the roof, some would laugh at their kids for being unknowingly funny.

The kids came up to the board answering questions by the teacher. It was cute listening to their teeny-tiny voices saying “ako-ako-ako” while raising their hands.

The people living in Purok 8 were mostly Bul-anon (people from Bohol). Bul-anons pronounce their Zs like Js. So instead of saying Zero, they say jero. So when the kids recited the alphabet, it sounded like, T-U-V-W-X-Y-G… including the teacher. I just smiled to myself.

When it was time to indentify shapes, they would go “trayang-gol!” “rectang-gol!” I did a lot of smiling to myself that day.

I was also able to witness different form of children coping with embarassment. One kid threw a wild temper tantrum! As in he sprawled on the floor and kicked and kicked. He was able to fo a 360 degree full from the force of his kick. His father had to bring him outside the classroom. I just hope he didn’t get any spakning.

Another kid was called to the blackboard. He probably didn’t know the answer because he started picking at an imaginary scab on his knee.

It was my turn to talk to the kids. With my broken Visaya, I asked their names. They were shy though. I started joking, “naku! Basin kuhaon ng hangin inyong ngalan kung dili ninyo isulti! (the wind might take your names if you don’t tell.) Didn’t work. The others kept silent.

Then I asked them, “kinsa diri ang ganahan mu-eskwela? Taas kamot! (Who here likes school, raise hands!)” And all of them did, Yipee!

Generally, the kids and the teacher did well. And I had fun for my first encounter with the kids.

We had a meeting with the parents. They seem supportive enough of their kids. I didn’t know I was supposed to address the crowd but I think I came out all right.

I just used the same spiel for all the day care centers. Blah-blah, I’m happy I am here. Blah-blay, Happy you are here. Balh-blah. Let’s help each other, the barangay and the teacher… blah-blah…

PUROK LUCKY 9

Right after Purok 8 we went to Purok 9. The teacher was still two months into the job because the old one was transferred to the adult literacy in another town.

The teacher still needed training. The kids went in and out of their classroom like they were kings. When we caught them sneaking back in, “nag-inom ra mi tubig (we just drank water),” said with a snicker. There were only a few kids who were entirely familiar with the lesson. But this group was a wider mix, from 4-8. The older kids got the lesson faster. And they kept looking at me at the back. Tsk.

More smiling to myself when they did the sanitized version of Spaghetti Song by the Sexbomb girls. “Sumakit ang ulo ko, sumakit ang dibdib ko… body…. Body… body…”

We had a meeting with the parents again. Same spiel. Same concerns. Thank you here,. Thank you there. Shake hands here, shake hands there. Kodak-kodak.

Great merienda though. Suman. Yum!!!

BARANGAY TSISMIS

14 high school boys were infected with gonorrhea. Apparently transmitted by this groups of parloric gays who went to their town fiesta two weeks before. The gays paid for their “services.” One boy after a few days goes to the health worker (the kapitan’s wife) complaining about a pain in his abdomen. She got him to go a doctor in Malaybalay. It was then that it was discovered he had gonorrhea. And the other boys were esperiencing similar symptoms. Yaiks, noh?!

Guess how much they were supposed to be paid. P130. Utang pa ang 100! Ganun na kahirap ang buhay.

I SEE THE LIGHT

The next day we went to Mahayag (which means bright), a mostly IP community. Surprisingly the kids fared better than their lowlander counterparts. They were more paticipative. They knew their lessons well. Those who weren’t able to answer a question did not throw a tantrum or pretend to disappear from existence,

When it was my turn to teach them, they eagerly answered. They were still shy but they would respond to my questions. The teacher was also well-prepared with the visual aids and knew how to handle the kids.

Again, meeting with parents. A rehash of my old script. Then brunch. Guess what? Native chicken. Waah! The exact same kind we had for dinner and breakfast. I can feel myself sprouting wings already.

GUSTO MO MAGPA-HOSTAGE?

We left the barangay captain’s home after lunch for Lupok-Lupok.

We got rumors the night before that the datu of Silibo (another area higher than Lupok-Lupok) got caught for illegal possession of drugs (8 kilos of marijuana!). It was said the community would be taking hostage any visitor who wold dare go to them. Guess who would be the only visitor going? Nunininuninu….

When we got to Lupok-lupok, weasked around. There were residents from Silib who said that it was just a nasty rumor. Nila asked me if I still wanted to go. I did. Not for the thrill of getting hostaged but because it would be unfair not to visit the place when they have already been told that we were coming. Plus if it is a more isolated community, they are more in need of help that the previous ones we have visited. I wasn’t getting any illl-feeling about going there either.

KIDS SAY THE DARNEDEST THINGS

Whle we were in Lupok-Lupok and the rest of the people going with us to Silib were preparing, I stayed at the balcony of the house with the day care center kids. They were just staring at me. So I talked to them. They asked my name. I asked theirs. I asked them to tell stories of their classmates.

Once we were ready to leave, I told them, “kita ta ugma, ha? Mag-tan-aw ko sa inyong klase. (We’ll see each other tomorrowm. I’ll watch your class.” One of them answered, “sul-ubon mako akong saninang bag-o ugma kay na-a ka. (I’ll wear my new dress tomorrow because you are there.”

Touched. I was really touched. And quite happy.

LAPOK (MUD) FROM LUPOK

The hike was supposed to take an hour (yeah? By whose standards are we talking about?) They were offering me to wear rain boots (are those supposed to be galoshes?) but I refused insisting I prefer to keep my sandals.

The first part of the journey was enjoyable. We walked through roads lined with corn fiields. There was a spectacular view of the surrounding hills (or is mountain? We were on the mountian already). We crossed a small river, then more corn-lined paths.

The walk started getting more difficult when there were less corn and more cogon, less cleared paths and more make-shift ones. Then we entered a small forest. The ground was getting more gooey by each step. The plants were less friendly as thorny undergrowths scraped my ankles several times. I wish I took the boots!!!

It came to a point we reached a road that was all mud. Not a sight of solid ground! I trudged to almost shin-high mud. I had to lose the sandals. I decided to walk barefoot just so it would be less slippery.

The worse part was having the mud in between your toes. Euw! I was already thinking of getting a foot scrub and pedicure when I get to Davao. I never had a foot scrub and the last time I had a pedicure was…? Months and months and months ago. Maybe over a year even. “But I will have one whern I get home. I swear by my scarred feet!”

When the ground started evening up again and the gurgling river can be heard again, I gave a sigh of relief. Almost there! Yipee!

We first cleaned ourselves up at the river. When we got to the community, it was a sight to behold. Just like what they say, “diyes na lang nasa langit ka na!” The mountains were just my level. Clouds were rolling by and was so near, you could almost touch them.

It made the trek there worth it!

The kids were shy as they were not used to strangers. They hardly went near me but were quite fascinated with my video camera. When I took footages of them I told them to “lihok” or make movements. They started singing and dancing… OTSO-OTSO!

I wondered… in a place where electricity does not exist, not even in the town below, how can otso-otso reach them? And they know the moves! That’s the power of media for you!

Dinner was… native chicken. Waaa! Ayoko na!

There were two families in the house we were sleeping in but Nila and I had the privilege of sleeping on the bed. I kept waking up in the middle of the night because I couldn’t move much, I had to be careful not to hit Nila.

Breakfast was again… native chicken. I had to eat more than what I usually allow myself because it was going to be a long walk down.

We had a classroom observation. The oldest kid at the day care center was 15 years old. Never had a taste of going to school at all. The nearest school was two towns away already. They hardly participated because they were wary of my presence, though whenever they answered most of it were correct.

There were like three to five kids from each family. So when parent’s meeting came, there were only three. I could see the problem why they can not establish a permanent building fo the day care center. There aren’t enough parents to help with building it.

Hay. I hope I could help them find a way.
===

To be continued… (and I’m only on my third day away from home would you believe!)
Disregard entry below na lang. It's just a more detailed description of my travels.

ACHING BUTTS, SLEEPY HEADS AND ROUGH ROADS

NP got to the lodging house at 6AM as agreed. After how many texts and calls I finally got to meet her.

Before we set off for Malaybalay, we went to the BTFFI office to fetch the agriculturist who was going to go with us. I also asked if I could leave my other bag in their office. Four bags up the mountain is never a good idea, you know.

*NP, M and I ride air-con bus.*
*I sleep*

Ah, yes! Perfect timing to wake up. We were at the terminal. Malaybalay has always been a familiar sight to me. Most of the jeeps I ride to go our JVP areas alley there.

The familiar rickety jeeps and rusting buses were there with sacks of rice and corn on top. We first rode a jeep that was almost the size of a small truck. It was rusting all over and the upholstery was torn. Well, I am used to that sight.

TIP 1: When riding jeeps to mountains, always ride near the driver. It's less bumpy that way.

TIP 2: Try as much as possible not to sit beside mothers feeding their little toddlers anything especially egg. Somewhere along the journey, they are bound to puke. You wouldn't want to be in their way, wouldn't you?

We had breakfast first. The agriculturist stayed behind to keep our bags company. He also claimed to have had breakfast already.

Jungian eatery has always been my favorite terminal carinderia because their restroom is relatively clean. That is where we ate.

When we got back to the jeep, the bus to where we were going finally arrived so we transferred. We got to sit up front. Yipee! Not as hard on the butt. (Or so I thought!)

These vehicles never leave before getting filled up. I fell asleep waiting. And somewhere at the back of my mind, in the middle of my sleep, a voice was telling me, "psst! Buka ang bibig mo. Gising! (Psst! Your mouth is open, wake up!)."

I did wake up. And we were still in the terminal. Waaah! And she made me wake up at 6 AM!

A few more minutes, the driver was finally satisfied with the passenger load and drove off to St. Peter, Bukidnon. Two hours of rough roads and occasionally cemented ways from where we were.

I was really too tired. Because I kept drifting to wakefulness and sleep. Luckily, I was awake at the part where the bus crosses a small river to the other side. I got my video camera to capture the moment. Hopefully, I can use it for the video.

It was only one-third of the journey. My butt hurt already. I packed my cam again and drifted back to sleep. When I sense my head almost ready to go out to the window, I wake up a bit then sleep again.

When I was finally really awake, there were only a few people in the bus already. Gack! How long will it be before we get to our destination.

By the kindness of God, NP finally said the magic words, "naog na ta. (we go down already.)" We were met by the Kagawad in charge of the committee of education and the barangay captain.

They asked us to put our bags down in the Captain's house before we proceed to the day care center. While this was all happening, I was asking God, "Help! Make me appear believable and grant me wisdom to answer their questions." When you are 25 but often mistaken for a college student, you just need all the divine help you can get.

ANO ANG NASA DAKONG PAROON... BUNGA NG MALIKOT NA PAG-IISIP...

I got to Valencia around 630 PM. If you have noticed the past few weeks, night creeps in a bit earlier now. By five o'clock, it is already dark. So I was a bit apprehensive already even if it was still early.

But when you see the good old orange bee... there is a bit of assurance that... uh... you would have dinner. I was craving for chickejoy. I usually order a single piece chicken, but this time I opted for the two piece combo meal. I wasn't hungry, but I wanted to eat.

When NP from our partner institution was calling me, she told me I would be staying at Emy's Lodging House. I asked for the number. I called ahead and asked for directions. The only thing I needed to do, they said was... ride the motorela and tell the driver, "Emy's." Not hard even for me.

So with my four bags in tow (one for clothers, another for papers, the video camera and belt bag for my valuables) and my chicken joy meal, I stopped a rela and said, "Emy's nong."

He nodded his head. Good! He knew where he was going. I kept thinking of the crispy chicken joy skin I will be eating minutes from then. And then he hade a turn to a dark alley. Uh-oh. Panic. Where in the world is he takig me? Be calm, I said to myself. As long as you still see people, you are safe!

Finally he stopped at this compound which had a sign which said, "Imee's Lodging House." Oh. Imee's pala at hindi Emy's.

The room I got cost 700, way over the one I had in CDO. I kept asking for a cheaper room but he insisted I check it out first. So we did. U-huh. It was a room. A pink room. He was going to make me pay for a 700-peso room that had pink curtain flowers! Where is the justice there!?

He said there was no cheaper room and the reason why it was 700 was because the TV had a remote. D-uh! I just take two steps from the bed to the control panel to change channels. But well... it was almost 7 and I have no idea where the other hotels are located. I had to make do with what I had. Sheesh. There wasn't even a hot shower or a chair.

After settling my things, I got ready to devour my chickenjoy. Yipee! Crunch, crunch, crunch went the skin.

NP checked on me. Once confirming I was settled, she told me she'd fetch me at 6AM the next day. I texted back "okay" but my thoughts really said... "whaaaaa? 6!!! I'm just entering REM that time!!!"

I slept 11. Then started to dream. It was Parokya ni Edgar. My conscious thoughts said, "Yeah! This will be fun." I was chatting with Chito and Darius when I started to feel all warm and sweaty. My heart was palpitating in a scary way. Suddenly Chito transformed to a monster. I was trying to push the image away. I couldn't move, it was like someone's full weight was on me. My mouth was parched dry. But I tried hard to move, no matter how my muscles ached. Until finally I was able to change position. It took a few minutes for me to open my eyes. I was a bit afraid that there might be something supernatural lurking around. I prayed a bit calling my guardian angel again then opened my eyes again. Nothing. Whew!

I went out to ask the front desk for water. Fortunately they sold mineral water. It was then I realized that I have not had a drink of water since morning. Plus two cups of Coke. Bad! Always drink water. Dehydration must have been the cause of that episode.

It was only 11:59 when I checked my watch. I was planning not to sleep anymore... but then... my body got the better of me and I dozed off again.

SEMINAR BY THE BEACH

I checked out of Casa Crystalla after having breakfast with my companion to the IP Educators assembly. We hailed a taxi to Punta Bonbon, which neither of us had an idea how to get to. In the middle of our trip, the taxi driver asked where we were going again. Apparently, he did not know the particular place, too. Yaiks! Had to tell him, "mangutana na lang ta pag-abot didto, nong." Le't just ask when we get there.

I was already asking my guardian angel to get us there safely. Not that I didn't trust the driver, but prayer can always help.

Finally we got there. We didn't even get lost. Yipee! Good guardian angel! It was merienda time. You could see IPs and lowlanders (that's us) having conversations. We registered and then proceeded to meet with the organizers.

The seminar actually started since Friday, but C and I came in Monday as observers specifically for the talks of Sen. Kiko Pangilinan and Nereus Acosta (congressman of Bukidnon).

We waited for merienda time to end. What we thought would be the speech of Kiko or at least his representative turned out to be an open forum regarding the last workshop on accreditation of IP schools. It was quite emotional expecially for the IPs. There were some in tears already out of frustration for their tribes. I picked up a lot of points, but there were unresolved issues because the facilitation didn't go well. Everyone was allowed to speak but many questions remained unanswered.

They facilitator finally declared lunch. C and I got our food, roasted fish and kinilaw. Yum! The breeze was cool but the beach wasn't that nice.

While the break went on, I took footages for the video I will be making.

I was hoping that at least Acosta would get to talk. But then I was also thinking that day was the decision regarding the impeachment trial. I am sure they would be in Manila.

The seminar resumed at 2PM. No talk. Another workshop. Ick! My companion and I decided to leave instead because there was no use staying for the workshop. I still had to go to Valencia, Bukidnon and I didn't want to get there too late because I did not know where the lodging house our partner institution got me was located.

By 330, I was leaving CDO for Valencia.

MEETING UP WITH OLD FRIENDS IN CAGAYAN DE ORO

It has been a week since I left Davao but it seems much longer. In a span of seven days I have been to three provinces, four cities, and five day care centers.

Last Sunday, I left for Cagayan de Oro to attend an IP educators meeting in Punta Bonbon the next day. My home for the night was Casa Crystalla. A friend in Cagayan de Oro offered to have me over their house for the night but I decided to stay in the hotel so I can use the television as much as I like. Most importantly, I want my hot shower without having to worry about taking too much time.

E met up with me in the hotel. It has been almost a year since we have last seen each other but we'd usually text each other when something fascinating or magical catches our fancy.

We barely paid attention to the television as we talked about her trip to Naga. There were a lot of juice especially when it is the first time a Jesuit Volunteer returns to the area.

We were expecting MB, BP and NH to follow in the hotel. When they finally came, I was surprised to see a horde of people invade my small room! There were the three expected people, plus NS, S and GG. The room was almost a sardine can from the number of people inside. But it was great. The bustle was energizing. After much discussion, we decided to have dinner before we went to the Xavier University anti-impeachment vigil and to meet up with the other JVP alumnay.

Trix and Country fruits were closed. Much to the dismay of the guides because they had the whole bunch walk quite a length to get to those restos. We ended up with this ihaw-ihaw resto whose name I forgot. The food was all right and the price was cheap. The wide screen was showing Britney's concert. I don't like the girl, but you just have to admit she can really move.

After dinner, we proceeded to the Divisoria main plaza to meet up with the JVP alumni. My heart was just half into the vigil because I would rather have spent the night dancing at Site. Hehehe! Plus, it was such a strain to listen to deep Bisaya after a long journey (Davao to CDO lasts six hours, sometimes longer).

What little I witnessed was interesting. Christians and Muslims were together, praying in their own languages. At least it was a vigil and not a rally. I wasn't in the disposition for shouting. Seeing one of my former students in Pangantucan, Bukidnon made my night though. I felt so proud knowing that one of my "kids" have gotten some social consciousness in her system. I wouldn't even dare think it was from me, but I could always say, "I was her teacher." JG and I had a brief chat and then I went back to the JVP corner.

The time came for the lighting of the candles. Each person was to place his candle at the "altar." It was a very symbolic especially when the rain started to fall. Good omen, I should say. The vigil came to an unexpected halt because of the rain but the crowd was once again invited to the rally the next day.

After the vigil, we proceeded to Dunkin' Donuts to have a sip of hot choco or coffee. I got myself hot choco. More conversations went on... from politics to our old JVP areas to inane stuff I can't even remember but got me laughing hard.

At ten thirty I decided to go ahead, because I was getting drowsy. But first a nice hot bath. Well... so much for hot... the thing barely got to lukewarm. Sheesh. But a bath will always be refreshing no matter what.

I slept with the TV on. I tried hard to keep up with Samurai Jack but I just conked out five minutes after I lay down.