Moonlit Escapades* (1)

After a scorching but fun-filled day, highlighted mostly by roller coaster rides via speedboat to far-flung islands in Tawi-tawi, we headed back to the capital town of Bongao. At the Beachside Inn, a refreshing shower and an ice-cold beer was what we exactly needed. We had the hotel's  beachfront restaurant all by ourselves and would have gladly called it a night if not for a dinner invitation courtesy of the town mayor.

While waiting for our ride, we noticed a commotion from afar. “The monster is eating the moon!”, shouted a hotel staff with his eyes fixed on the dark night sky. Other hotel crew started running to the beach for a better view as gun fires, sounds of clanging metals and other sorts of indistinguishable noise interrupted what could have been the start of a relaxing night.

With all these commotion going on, I easily dismantled my fear having been used to the peaceful environment of Tawi-Tawi. Looking up at the endless dome of the night sky, we were bewildered to realize what was going on. The moon was being gradually covered by a black, circular object until there was only total darkness left. It was a lunar eclipse. The moon, indeed, had just been eaten by a monster!

Under the dark, starless sky, I bathed in that blissful moment. Intense cries from nearby houses further magnified the massive, uneasy feeling brought about by the coinciding event of the Nispu celebration, a Muslim thanksgiving for the souls. Infected by the locals' demeanor, we held our breath for an eternity until a wax-like light appeared on the dark sky. It was crescent, until it became full once again. With their faces beaming in gold, the locals cheered endlessly. They believed that the noises had distracted the monster, called Bakunawa in Tausug, from eating the moon.

Keeping my gaze on the moon, I wondered if, on other parts of the archipelago, people also saw a delicious fruitcake and a starving monster when they looked up the sky.

*Reposted from sometime in 2006

Moonlit Escapades* (2)

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.

*Reposted from sometime in 2006

Rooted on My Mind

After my Tawi-Tawi trip, I was able to enjoy a week-long stay in Manila. Afterwards, it was off to Marawi City. At first, we planned on staying longer as we expected a lot of work. However, due to the forthcoming Ramadan, we decided on a one-week stay only. 

Adjusting to the Maranao culture, compared to Tausug, seemed to be more challenging for me. However, with the help of our coordinator, we had won the trust of the key leaders by the end of our stay and got to understand the context. After the immersion, we made plans to go back for a series of trainings.

We stayed in this beautiful, tribal-inspired Ayala Resort near the Mindanao State University which overlooks the great Lanao Lake. The cold weather in Marawi was made even frostier by the presence of big, ancient tress that towered over the resort's cottages. I was given an amazing T'boli cottage during my whole stay. A few feet away from the veranda was a century-old Balete tree. At night, I would invite my companions for coffee on the porch while watching the fireflies turn my Balete into one giant Christmas tree.

(No, this story does not end with just a magical description of Belete trees and fireflies. Not yet.)

After one week in Marawi City, my colleague and I found ourselves heading back to Cagayan De Oro (CDO) City, from where we would be taking our flights to Manila the following day.

(Now, this is where the story gets more exciting.)

Prior to leaving Marawi, Gerry and I had been exchanging texts. I learned that he was in Davao at that time and also had plans to drop by at CDO for a business meeting. So, we agreed to meet that night upon our individual arrival in CDO. After dinner, we went club-hopping and conversed like good old friends.

Upon calling it a night, I offered to drop him off at his hotel. While inside the cab, I found myself wondering at the irony of things. Our paths (as ex-partners) had converged once again, this time in a strange city (and a lonely night, at that). At times, the apparent convenience of things seemed too tempting, but I was also appalled and suspicious of its nature.

Gerry mentioned something about coffee as we were approaching his place. If I head back to my hotel, I said to myself, I might as well be ready to face a sleepless night. Right now, fate was offering some kind of a playful irony. Indeed, it sometimes grants wishes and can even personify a towering Balete tree straight from the backyard of one's mind.

The suspicious side of me, however, said otherwise. Despite Gerry's permanence in myself, it  always wanted to end any story in reality.

Full Moon in Sagada

June 9, midnight

I was a lonely backpacker waiting for my midnight bus trip in Autobus terminal in Espana. The trip was bound to Banawe, from where I would take a jeepney to reach my abode--- Sagada.

I have been to Sagada a lot of times, and the previous trips were with friends. However, this recent trip was all by myself. During the bus stopovers, I enjoyed the cold air, smoked a few, and relished at the idea of a lonely trip. I could almost taste my much deserved full moon in Sagada.

Upon arriving in Sagada, I was able to find a cheap room at St. Joseph's Inn. In between a Banana yogurt lunch at the Yoghurt House and a relaxing dinner at Masferre, I spent the entire day at the Echo Valley - where I climbed a little and sat more often.

June 10, midnight

The after-dinner was what I dreamed it to be. The view outside St. Joseph's was magnificent as the full moon started to show amid the fog and cold. I took a spot in the moonlit garden where I could still hear some local performers singing reggae songs from inside the Inn. Someone yelled at me from the nearby group and offered me some drinks. They were the ones I made friends with during the jeepney ride to Sagada. It was indeed a beautiful, moon-bathed night in Sagada, drinking beers and margaritas with strangers.

June 11, midnight

Earlier this afternoon, I took the last bus bound to Baguio. A high school friend who now resides in Baguio picked me up at the terminal and checked me in at my hotel. After treating me for dinner at Cafe by the Ruins, it was my turn to treat her to some club-hopping at Nevada Square while reminiscing our happy days. By midnight, I thanked her and we parted ways.

As I was taking a lonely stroll back to the hotel, it suddenly dawned on me how surreal the whole experience had been. And to think I completely forgot why I took the trip, in the first place. Was that how good I was?

From the downtown, the moon looked so big and angry.