At the Mayor’s resort, dinner was
waiting for us on the tip of a bridge located miles away from the shore. Our
gracious host shared funny stories of his political survival as we devoured the
elaborately prepared Tausug dish amid the wistful breeze of the Tawi-Tawi sea.
After sipping the native coffee, the younger ones slipped from the group. I headed towards a spot which faces the mystical
Bongao Peak. I had climbed BudBongao, as the mountain is alternately called, for several times since my arrival last year. Locals claim some mystical powers to it. On top lies the grave of a legendary Muslim prophet (so the locals say) which I had seen myself. At the top, the view overlooks the bay and the surrounding
island municipalities which, as part of my immersion, I had been to as well.
Tonight, I was ecstatic to find contrasting
views. This time, it was the other way around (I was now looking up at the Bongao
Peak from the ocean, rather than vice versa). In addition, I was also looking from the night’s point of
view. From my spot, the moon shone brightly as it hovered around Bongao Peak,
almost kissing it but not quite.
Breathless with such a view, I
called out to a colleague and borrowed his Canon digital SLR. We took turns in playing
around with the lenses while taking numerous attempts at the full moon. We were literally breathless so as not to affect the quality of the shots.
Looking through the lenses while
hearing a familiar song being sung by the locals made me delirious. On the shore, they were singing
a Tausug song entitled Tawi-Tawi Beach. The song narrates
the sad story of an American soldier and a Tausug lady who fell in love along
Tawi-Tawi Beach only to be separated forever. Every night, he would wait for his lady
along that strip knowing she would never be there. Then, it occurred to me how
the moon and the mountain looked like unrequited lovers. For a moment, they
were an inch apart to each other, but could never possibly touch.
As the song neared the sad ending, I peeked through the lenses and saw the moon inching away from Bongao Peak. They seemed to be having a quarrel
only to meet once again in the millions of nights to come. The night was perfect and I had been through one of the most nostalgic experiences ever. Indeed,
Tawi-Tawi never fails to amaze me. I thought that I had seen it all but I was
always in for spectacular surprises.
Tonight, my Tawi-Tawi experience
told me stories that lie beneath the moon, only if we take a longer peek, be
dazed at its crude death, and witness its golden rebirth, when
once again, it hovers on some mystical peak to pass on its ageless story of
survival, as a hundred other stories are being sung along the moonlit
lovers’ shore.
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