Balabac

Its a stuff a national geographic movie would be made of. Last May, I was part of a group that went to the final, last frontier of the Philippines. Sounds redundant? Well, Palawan is often called the Last Frontier of the Philippines. But if you look closely at the map of the province, there's a group of tiny islands at the southernmost tip known as Balabac. Physically, its really the final, the edge of the last frontier. And if you have the chance to visit the place, it really speaks true of the label. Virtually zero tourism, islands ringed by white sands, and really, really beautiful nature.

And why compare it to the prestigious national geographic stuff? Well, in one and a half days, we released mouse deers back into the wild, saw lots of birds, encountered a sea turtle, had some dolphins swim by our boat, and read this: saw a gang of manta rays feeding near our boat!

One of the mouse deers we released. Locally known as Pilandok, it is found only in the island of Balabac. It is fast losing its forest home due to increasing agricultural lands and hunting. Every Filipino must at least know about the animal and maybe try to help save the few remaining pilandoks from total and permanent extinction.

The marine turtle that we kept following for maybe 20 minutes. The water was so clear and the sandy bottom so white, the whole experience of watching the turtle glide underwater was made really special.

A big group of manta rays was on a feeding frenzy when we passed near them. My God! we were shouting and shrieking at the magnificent sight! Try to imagine, before this event, only scuba divers had the chance to see huge mantas in the open seas. Now, our lucky group was seeing them great animals gliding, flapping, and doing "barrel rolls" right in front of us non-divers! It was a really blessed day for us. Can't find the manta? Look very closely at the white figure with several black lines. That's the belly (and gills) of the giant manta doing a summersault while feeding on the rick planktons in the area.

You might wonder how I got to be so very lucky to visit this real frontier. I have to give credit to Conservation International - Philippines for making me their ecotourism consultant. Give me a few months and I should be able to make a clear picture for CI on how tourism can develop in Balabac. I love my job!

Taal Volcano

Got to have a great taste of Taal Volcano last Friday.

Actually, I've been to the active volcano almost 20 times starting many years ago (with smaller tummy, larger hair surface area, and no girlfriend yet). I camped on the island. Got lost a couple of times, almost got killed when I almost fell on very deep ravines (yes, plural), experienced four leg cramps, carried by tourists down from a crater during the cramp attacks, and experienced some sort of a miracle (like meeting somebody who resembled a saint with a pet dog - hey you would really welcome miracles when you're in a dire situation).

But I can say that the last trip is definitely one of the best! I got to swim in the middle of the crater lake, rowed a small boat, and got near the hissing volcanic vent. This was almost impossible many years ago since nobody did anything to improve the trail to the crater lake until somebody spent a lot of money creating a trail and bringing down some paddle boats.

It was such a great experience that at one time, I whispered "I could die right now" while floating in the crater lake and wondering at the massive walls encircling the lake.

One sort of an unlucky moment (but only for photography) was when it rained real hard and I was forced to keep the camera inside the bag. So the memories are kept in the head (and this blog). Just got to take some photos before the rains came.

Ang Mga Lumba-lumba

Pasensya na. Im doing an environment book on the endangered species in the Philippines. Pero dapat sa Tagalog dahil target nito ay mga high school students na kailangang magbasa ng Pilipino. Secret muna ang title. Any comments?


ANG MGA LUMBA-LUMBA

Minsan, masarap isipin kung may pagkakataon ba na makipag-usap sa ating mga tao ang mga hayop. Yung mga binibigkas ba nilang kaw!, eeett!, at chsssk! Ay may katapat ba na salitang pantao?

Ang isang halimbawa ay ang mga lumba-lumba o dolphins na malalayang lumalangoy sa malalawak na karagatan.

Sa marami sa atin, nakikita natin sila sa telebisyon o sa mga modernong pasyalan na mga hayop na pantubig ang mga atraksiyon. Sa isang kumpas ng kamay ng taong nagtuturo sa kanila, biglang tatalon ang mga lumba-lumba o di kaya’s lalangoy ng matulin na matulin paikot sa kanilang kulungan! Papalakpak tayo sa masayang palabas. Sa tingin naman natin ay mukhang masasaya din ang mga lumba-lumba sa ginagawa nila. Pagkatapos ng isang palabas ay hahagisan sila ng isda at makikita natin sila na nakangisi ng todo.

Pero iba pala ang kapalit na kaligayahan kung sa malayang dagat natin sila nakikita. Doon, kailangang hanapin natin sila, hindi aabangan na lumabas sa malaking swimming pool. Nagsisimula ang swerte mo pag may natanaw kang mga palikpik na umuusli-usli sa ibabaw ng dagat. Lalapit ka ng unti-unti at makikita mong napakarami pala nila! Sampu! Dalawampu! Isandaan! Nakupo, minsan mahigit silang dalawang daan na malalaking mga lumba-lumba na masasayang naginginain at naglalaro sa gitna ng dagat! Merong tumatalon ng pagkataas-taas, may isang uri naman na ang gawi ay umikot ng umikot habang pumapaimbulog sa ibabaw ng dagat.

Pag lalo ka pang sinuwerte, ang iba ay lalapit sa bangka mo at sasabay at magpapabaling-baling sa mga alon na nililikha ng bangka. Paraan nila yun upang makapagpahinga ng sandali at maglaro. Makikita mo ang maliit na butas sa kanilang ulo na nagsisilbing hingahan nila. Bubukas iyon pag lumalabas ang ulo ng lumba-lumba sa tubig, at kusang magsasara sa sandaling pumailalim ang hayop. Maririnig mo rin ang matunog na ingay na parang siyap ng sisiw sa sandaling magsara ang maliit na butas.

Masaya, napakasaya nilang panoorin, lalo na pag nalaman mo na napapaligaya ka nila na wala silang hinihintay na kapalit. At ang mga ngiti nila ay parang mas totoo kumpara sa mga nakakulong na lumba-lumba.

Minsan nga ay makikita mo sila na kusang lumilingon sa iyo at tititig na para bang may gustong sabihin. Naaalala ko tuloy ang mga kuwento ng mga kaibigan ko tungkol sa mga matamis na enkwentro nila sa mga lumba-lumba. Mas magaganda kasi ang ilang enkwentro nila kumpara sa akin.

May pinsan ako na nagtrabaho sa isang barkong pangisda sa Mindanao. Minsan ay may kasama siya, na sa kalasingan, ay nahulog sa barko! Dala-dala raw ng lasing na tripulante ang de-tiklop na papag na nagligtas sa pagkalunod niya. Ang malas, walang nakamalay sa kanyang pagbulusok sa malalim na dagat. Sa loob ng dalawang araw ay palutang-lutang siya sa dagat Celebes bago siya nasagip ng isa pang barko Ang kuwento niya, sa ikalawang gabi ng palutang-lutang niya sa karagatan ay napalibutan siya ng napakaraming pating! Akala ng tripulante ay katapusan na niya. Pero bago pa man siya malapa ng mga pating ay nagdatingan ang sanlaksang mga lumba-lumba na nagtaboy sa mga pating.

Ang kaibigan ko namang si Rowena ng siyudad ng Bais sa probinsiya ng Negros Oriental ay nagtrabaho bilang giya ng mga turista na sumasali sa Dolphin Watching tours. Minsan sa paglaot nila upang magdala ng mga turista sa lugar ng mga lumba-lumba ay may napansin ang grupo ni Rowena ng may sumusunod na maliit na pangkat ng mga lumba-lumba. Walang humpay ang pagsunod ng mga hayop sa bangka, pero unti-unti silang nababawasan. Hanggang sa isa na lang ang natitirang lumba-lumba na pinipilit lumangoy papalapit sa mga tao. Tumigil sina Rowena upang siyasatin ang hayop. At sa kanilang pagkamangha ay kitang-kita nila na may na buntot ng maliit na lumba-lumba na nakausli sa bandang ilalim ng tiyan ng hayop. Nanganganak pala ang lumba-lumba! Habang nakahinto ang bangka ay paikot-ikot ng mabagal ang kawawang hayop.

Nagtalo-talo ang mga tao sa bangka kung ano ang dapat nilang gawin. Humihingi ba ng tulong ang lumba-luba? Dapat ba nilang tulungan ito? O, dapat ba nilang hayaan na ang kalikasan ang gumawa ng paraan para sa hayop?

Nagkasundo ang lahat na susubukan nilang tulungan ang nanganganak na lumba-lumba. Sa muli nilang pagkagulat, pinabayaan ng hayop na hawakan siya ng tao at kusa itong humimlay sa bisig ng tao. Maayos nila itong naisampa sa malaking bangka. At unti-unti ay tinulungan nilang mailabas ang sanggol na lumba-lumba. Subalit, patay na ito ng mailuwal. Maging ang ina ay pumanaw makalipas ang ilang sandali.

Marami ang nagtatalo kung tama ba o mali ang ginawa nina Rowena. Pero mali man o tama, ang isang malinaw na bagay ay nagtangkang humingi ng tulong ang lumba-lumba sa tao.

May isang lugar sa bansang Australia na kung saan sikat na sikat ang isang grupo ng mga lumba-lumba. Doon, malaya silang nakakalapit sa mga taong naliligo sa dagat. At ang mga tao naman ay nagagawang hawakan ang mga hayop. Magandang panoorin ang tanawing iyon. Parang nakikipaglaro ang mga hayop na malaya sa mga taong nakakaunawa sa kanila.

Kabaliktaran ito sa nangyari sa isang lugar sa Pilipinas maraming taon na ang nakakalipas. May dalawang bata na nasa pampang ang kusang nilapitan ng dalawang lumba-lumba. Masarap sanang isipin na gustong makipaglaro ng mga hayop na iyon sa mga bata. Subalit iba pala ang nasa isip ng mga matatanda ng kasama ng mga bata. Dala-dala ang mga gulok, pinatay nila ang mga hayop!

Hindi na natin malalaman kung ano ang nais ipahiwatig ng mga lumba-lumba sa mga bata.

Ngayon ay bawal nang pumatay ng lumba-lumba sa Pilipinas. Sana, protektado man ng batas, mas lumalim pa ang pang-unawa at pagkalinga natin sa kanila.

The Missing Passenger

Traveling alone makes you alert at all times. You try to get all the details and follow procedures just to make sure that you can get to your destination unscathed. A moment that your focus slips, your trip might then be jeopardized. But what if something happened and you can’t put the blame on anybody?

So there I was in Tuguegarao airport waiting for my ride home. I was one of the earliest passengers and I got the chance to settle in a nice spot in the waiting lounge. As my departure time neared, more passengers started streaming inside the lounge. There was even a famous actor-singer who sat near me. He was quite small (sorry, I’m not really into Tagalog showbiz, and I don’t know how to describe them showbiz guys). As the lounge was filled up with some of the passengers having no choice but to stand in waiting, it started to rain. Was it a portent of my immediate future? Then several airport utility guys shouted, “O, yung galing sa Basco!” (Literal translation: ‘The one/s that came from Basco!’). Basco is the capital town of the province of Batanes and a small plane (the fokker) serviced its Basco-Tuguegarao-Manila route. Several people walked towards the plane while some Philippine Airlines personnel handed out huge umbrellas. After some minutes, there were still many of us left. A bigger airplane heading for Manila was still parked on the tarmac. When the flight number of this plane is called out, the waiting lounge would then be empty of people. It had been around ten minutes and the shouting guys came back uttering the same line. They stood for about a minute. It appeared that they were waiting for the remaining passengers for the fokker plane. One ran towards the plane and returned. I heard him told his colleagues to go look for the missing passenger in the comfort room. Zero. ‘Go to the canteen!’ Zilch. Then, as if by a stroke of genius, the guy that ran towards the plane asked all of us waiting passengers in a loud voice, “Who holds an orange-colored boarding pass?” I looked at my hand and there it was, an orange piece of paper. The other passengers near me were also looking at my ticket! I immediately stood up and the guy hustled me to the plane under the rain and without an umbrella! Then there she was, a pretty stewardess, with her wide smile and greeted me with arms wide open (if only I could read her mind). And as if on cue, all the other passengers stared at me while I walked towards the only remaining seat at the end of the plane. The stewardess approached me and told me that they were so kind that they did not leave me behind. I tried to explain everything to her. But before I could open my mouth, she made a fast turn around leaving me with my mouth wide open. If only she heard my story. I tried to tell her that I was waiting for the flight number to be announced. And that I did not come from Basco.

The First and Second Bus Rides

The official start of my nomadic existence was way back in my college days. I was an ordinary poor lad then performing magical feats to make my meager allowance last till the next, uhm, alms (okay, allowance). But that situation did not stop me from having fun! No, sir! I was at the prime of my life and I would not kill myself drooling at my friends having fun spending their parents’ hard-earned money. A crucial time came when my school org., the Society for Tourism Advancement and Growth (STAG) scheduled an outing to Cuenca, Batangas. I scrimped and saved enough money so I can join the trip. But fate of fates, I was left behind. The next logical thing was to follow them, no matter what it took, as long as my total expense didn’t go beyond one hundred pesos. Unfortunately for me, the end destination was not Cuenca but another municipality called Lemery. I did not know where the heck was Cuenca, I asked around and the best information that I got was there would be a bridge and some zigzag roads. If I made the mistake of alighting at the wrong point, I may have to walk numerous kilometers or admit defeat and catch another bus back to Manila.

Fast forward. I found the bus terminal (its BLTB along EDSA in Pasay) and the right bus going through Cuenca. It was not leaving until after an hour so I had the chance to observe what was happening around in the terminal. It was sort of chaotic. Hundreds of people were in the terminal. A lot of them were passengers like me waiting for or looking for the right bus. Luckily, a Lemery-bound bus departs every one and a half hours and one immediately takes its place as soon as the last bus departs. I got a nice, window seat at near the end of the bus. It was almost noon when the bus started to depart.

I thought all buses operate the same way like the way done in the buses plying the EDSA route. The bus conductor comes near you, asks for your destination, you give the money and he gives you the ticket. Well, it’s quite different in provincial buses.

I went to the ticket window and the officer told me that I could pay for my fare to the conductor. So I just readied my money. The first time the conductor got near me, I immediately readied to hand him my precious one hundred pesos. He ignored my money and just asked me my direction. The second time he came near me, he gave me my bus ticket. Again, the money remained in my hand. It was only on the third visit that he took my payment. Such protocol!

The bus was quite full with some children stationed about three seat rows in front of me. The fresh, noon winds caressed my oily face as the bus shot through the south expressway. I kept thinking about the zigzag road and the bridge as if the words became my mantra. The kids and their parents kept eating and throwing plastics out of the bus window. That entire scene and my long mantra took about thirty minutes without interruption.

Then one of the kids put his head way out of the window, and he started…. right, …. puking! I couldn’t curse him, he was just a kid! I had to keep my cool even if I was only three rows behind him; and his by-products, powered by strong winds, would surely hit me. So I just closed my window and watched the poor kid take out everything. I mean, everything including what seemed like his green-colored stomach fluids.

It took about 20 minutes of hell for the kid while I tried to keep my focus on the road and watched out for the zigzag road and the bridge… the zigzag road and the bridge….

Although the exhausted kid stopped doing his thing after some long minutes, I kept my window shuttered. Never mind the breeze. And I was glad I made the right decision! One lady who was two seats to my front was eating a green mango with bagoong. The wind blew away her bagoong and some bits got plastered on my window. Phew!

The bus zigged and zagged and finally crossed a long bridge. My heart leaped and I asked my seatmate the name of the town we were in. He answered “Cuenca,” and that became the start of my nomadic life.

The second bus ride was less adventurous. I was scheduled to go to Legaspi City in Albay for a mountaineering activity on Mayon Volcano. I was still new at the Department of Tourism and it was going to be my first very long bus ride of about 12 hours.

I did everything according to the books. I bought a ticket in advance and went to the improvised bus station in Ermita, Manila.

There were about eight of us passengers waiting at the ticketing station. At 15 minutes before 7:00 P.M., the guard told us that the bus had arrived. So off we went to the bus parked in a dark corner of the streets. There were about three buses parked in the area and I took the nearest one. Each ticket had a corresponding seat number and I dutifully took my numbered seat. I was carrying a huge backpack and everybody was staring at me (I think I was only paranoid then). Every seat was filled in no time and the bus prepared for the departure. The conductor started inspecting the tickets making sure that everybody was in his right seat. When he came to me, I gave him my ticket. I was very confident I was in the right seat. But with a startled face, the conductor immediately told me that I was in the wrong bus! I could not believe it! Did he mean that there were actually a lot of bus companies using the same terminal? All the three buses were about to leave and I grabbed my ticket and ran the entire length of the bus. Never mind the snickering people as long as I get on my right bus!

There are actually a lot of adventures that can happen on a long bus trip. Unlucky are the unprepared and the naïve; their adventures may actually become misadventures. So let my tips (taken from actual experiences) prepare you for your long bus trips.

· Bags placed overhead are potential projectiles. Check the ones placed on your top and have a sound sleep
· Do not place your bag on the floor! Somebody might be silently puking while the bus travels
· At a stop-over, always remember your bus number and do not take more than 15 minutes to get back to your bus
· For the guys, some buses are equipped with a comfort room. As much as possible, do not use it while the bus is running, especially if you’re traveling on a zigzag road. For the
ladies, as much as possible, do not touch any surface inside the comfort room.
· In the hot noon hours, the bus air condition would be short of a glorified abaniko; but in the evening, just when you would want to be sound asleep inspite of the bumps, engine
noise and the snoring seatmate, that same air con would really freeze the butt of anybody
unprepared for the cold. So, bring a jacket or even a blanket.

Stranded in Paradise

I stayed in a hideaway where the rainforest embraced the sea and the limestone cliffs shaped by millions of raindrops tower over the green canopy. White sand beaches, clear waters, and the soft pounding of the waves made me think that I was in the island of Robinson Crusoe.

I was the audience to two birds, one brown and the other white, playing and chasing each other, and making loops and turns just above the water. I marked my time with the chirping of green parrots, the locals called them Pikoys, as they nibbled on berries near my cottage window.

By the beach, I watched with interest a brown leaf that gracefully floated and swayed with every gentle wave. I dipped my hand into the water to get the leaf, but it moved away! The “leaf” turned out to be a fish. It was a good time to be amazed by nature.

A walk along the coast, through the forest and over wooden board walks through a limestone forest brought me to a cave half filled with water. I had to ride a small banca to enter the cave and to witness the wonders created by God but seen only by few people. I heard the silent drops of water from the ceiling while thousands of bats and birds flew about and squeaked as they tried to find their way in the darkness. Only the thudding sounds of oars dominated our silent intrusion into the heart of the cave. "Look at that!" the boatman said as he pointed at the portion called the Cathedral, a huge pillar and limestone formation resembling the interior of a huge church. The stalactites seemed to grab me as our boat passed beneath them.

All these happened when I got stranded in St. Paul Subterranean River National Park in Palawan. It was that time when I had to take a two-hour jeepney ride, then another three-hour (now only 15 minutes) boat ride to reach the park. The boat I took could only return on the third day and all I had for company during those three days were the park rangers and the crew of Jacques Cousteau who were then making a documentary of the cave. Most of the time, I had the park, the beaches, and the forest all by myself and I kept thinking that God really made a very beautiful world.

Having no food for two extra days, the park rangers invited me to eat with them. Afterwards, we talked and told stories about life, the park, the cave, how they
take care of the place and what they feel about their forest home.

One night, one of the rangers invited me to catch some seafood in the shallow part of the sea. Night had settled in. There were only three of us in the place: I carried the lamp, Jessie took the bucket, and Mang Rudy brought a bolo. I never imagined one could catch fish using a bolo!

I then realized how it was like living near the bounty of the sea. When some fishes got attracted to the light, Mang Rudy hacked them with his bolo. We also picked up some seashells. I clearly remember when we saw a small octopus. Mang Rudy grabbed it and to my surprise, he placed it over his mouth with the eight tentacles smothering his face, then he bit the mouth of the octopus! "To make it weak and immobile," he said to me as he pulled off the octopus with its one wriggling tentacle broken off and still attached to his cheek. I was the one who was weakened by the sight. It had become very dark and were about 200 meters from the shore. The only thing that eased me was the tiny speck of the light coming from the lamp placed along the beach.

For three days I was stranded with barely enough food but I survived, thanks to the hospitality of the park rangers. Even for a while I found a refuge that thrived on simple living and very far from the complication of urban life. And with conviction, I can call it my little piece of paradise.

My U.S. Visa

Its been a long time...... Anyways, Im back.

Yesterday was a fine day for me. You see, I never intended to visit America for economic reasons. I never believed in leaving a family to get rich. I keep telling myself that if I ever get the chance to visit other countries, it will be purely for business or pleasure. And yep, got the chance to stay for five days in Hawaii this coming April.

My visa interview was very interesting. The officer kept asking me who will be paying for my bills (and that's a more than a G of US dollars for plane fare alone). And I kept telling him that it won't be my money (I have to slave it out and not eat for more than 3 months before I earn that amount). He finally got tired and gave me a thumbs up. The only thing that got me was I never knew that the process would take almost four hours! I was so hungry before my interview number was called that I was shaking both from nervousness and hunger.