ODE TO HOME (II)

Jet and Jobert have quite a few things in common: they are both great closet poets, their names start with J and end in T, and they enlighten me on sayings like 'You Can Never Go Home Again'. Alas, while I was believing that the change was happening to 'You' - the subject - who can never go home again, they claimed the changes were actually happening to the 'Home' - the object - where you can never go to again.

That said, my home country must have really changed, a hundred years after I left it. Which brings me to the object of this post: to narrate some of my experiences about great spots, great food, great attractions in the Philippines, for who knows how much of them may have been partly or fully changed, altered, or obliterated. This, then, is my ode.

- I was on my way to Legazpi City for the first time and seeing Mayon Volcano was more important than the conference I was dispensed to attend. I was roused from sleep at about 4:00 in the morning and as I looked out the window of the bus, I saw a silhouette of a mountain. 'O, my God, Mayon Volcano!', I said to myself, unintentionally waking up the old lady seated next to me who was appalled by my ignorance and did not appreciate the disturbance. 'Go back to sleep, you fool,' she murmured. 'We are only in Camarines Norte!'

- The first time I saw the 'real' Mayon Volcano, it was covered by clouds. And when I finally set sight to the fullness of its perfection, I choked. It was so beautiful and its beauty was imposing; it must be the height which I did not imagine to be extreme. And while it was viewable from every vantage point in any open space, the best spot to see it in all its majesty was right there at the front doorstep of the City Hall, with nary a shade of visual distraction.

- About 2 miles from the junction in Tagaytay City was a native restaurant called Buhi. They served the best dish known to me of the tastiest freshwater fish I hoped was known to everyone, tawilis, caught from Taal Lake. Topped by a mountain of chopped tomatoes, onions, and ginger, wrapped in banana leaves and then steamed for some minutes, no fish dish could be as immaculately delicious.

- One time I braved to drive down to Talisay, Batangas using the dirt trail that started from the junction. It was worth the worn-out tires and the trip was unforgettable: wildlife in Tagaytay City must have been a well kept secret; I saw wild ferns and vines, there were falls and I wondered what body of water they came from, and I was surprised by a couple of wild roosters with tails that were yard-long. As soon as I reached the bottom, the experience was altogether different. We viewed Tagaytay City up above, and Taal Volcano was right there, almost within reach.

- The best 'overlooking view' in Tagaytay City was the one close to the Nasugbu border; the views were actually great on both sides, left and right.

- In Nasugbu, Batangas, there was a hidden cove in a remote place called Barrio Papaya. The sea water was not very salty, and it was teeming with squids. The mountains surrounding the secret beach were heavy with mango trees.

- My friends J and E and myself went to a beach in Currimao, in the Ilocos Region, to check out this little natural pool by the seashore. E dove without warning and came back to the surface, screaming. He stepped on sea urchins and hundreds of spines were imbedded in his foot. J and I helped ourselves on E's foot, we were feeling sadistic really, as we used nailclippers to remove the nasty spines. Each snap, each clip, elicited a moan from E who must have been feeling worse than during the urchin accident. We brought him to the Provincial Hospital, with his foot all black and blue, and the doctor said, 'All you have to do is pee on that foot'. E looked at us and yelled a lungful of f--- y-- while looking at an ugly and horribly abstracted body part that was then his foot.

- Cebu City was very pretty, and comparable to Makati in terms of chic hustle and bustle. But it had what Manilenos didn't: a huge Taoist temple by the edge of the mountain. And about an hour drive west was the City of Toledo, a place which I thought had a stronger Cebuano tradition.

- I had been to a lot of beautiful churches in the Philippines: Barasoain, Lipa Cathedral, Cebu Cathedral, those in Central Luzon and the Ilocos Region, but the most beautiful I've seen was the one in Taal, Batangas. The concrete structure was elevated, looking upon the entire town as father to his children, and the internal architecture was a wonder in itself. Around the hollowed contour of the dome were balustrades, constructed as if some angels were to glimpse from time to time, holding on to them while offering a chorus of songs to the awed congregation. Back outside, the plaza across the cathedral was brimming with people, mostly young, on Sunday afternoons, and the Church, the plaza, and the people remind me so much of Nicaragua, a country sharing the same faith, the same festive attitude, the same routine by its young people who find the Church grounds as the best place for courtships and intimate correspondences.

- Taal, Batangas, by the way, had a barrio which name was very well its own: Baranggay Balisong.

- And speaking of balisongs(fan knives), the smallest I owned was bought in Baguio City, 2 inches long from the tip of the blade to the bottom of the casing, an inch long whenever snapped closed, and it was in perfect condition that never failed to draw out a plea from anyone who saw it the first time: 'Can I just have that, please?'

- And then speaking of Baguio City, I was told to speak Ilocano whenever I go to the public market since the vendors charge tourists double, mind you! The magic phrase was supposedly 'Mano detoy?' for 'How much is this?' but when I went to this vendor, I could not hide my hip method of communicating. 'Mano todits, manang?', I asked, and the vendor quoted the price. I paid. I later found out she charged me double.

- I crossed the then longest bridge in Luzon, the Gilbert Bridge in Laoag City, which was so high whilst the river below was simply sand, dried to the bone. Then I heard that Gilbert Bridge was moved to Solsona. And did you know that the Philippines had a desert? The Sand Dunes in Laoag, setting for Nora Aunor's Himala, seemed like a cut out of the Sahara, except that when you walked a short distance you will find sea, the South China Sea. Laoag City also had another spectacle, the Raquiza mansion, and going towards it while riding a horse-drawn carriage (calesa) brought me vivid images from an unknown past.

- The best Papait I had was in this quaint restaurant along the highway leading to Cabanatuan City in Nueva Ecija. The tang was just right and the price was even righter. They also sold uncooked balut, by the dozen, and the embryo was cutesy small. I also discovered the best way to go to Cabanatuan from Manila was the scenic way, via San Miguel Bulacan through Arayat, Pampanga.

- I attended a fraternity initiation in Tanza, Cavite, and the most unparalleled experience was when we went to this fish terminal to buy fresh fish. They were doing silent auctions right there, right then, with the fish vendors and their customers buzzing around each other's ears like excited bumblebees, reaching up at a price acceptable to both and the vendors' nods have the same mercantile efficacy as an auctioneer's voice and gavel: SOLD. We cooked our fish, bisugo, and found heaven in paksiw , where the accent was in the strong taste of the sea.

- The Philippines had its own Montana, its own Big Sky, and it was Baras, Rizal, such beauty! The people were also very unassuming, like the place itself, absolutely natural and unpretentious. Binangonan, in the same province, had their own cable cars though unfortunately not for people but for articles, cement, I believe, which was the town's main income generator. There were other beautiful places in this historic province, like Montalban, which had a great mountain stream, clearer and probably cleaner than any bottled water.

- Laguna was my favorite province. But while I have bathed in the warm springs of Pansol, hiked the trails of Makiling in Los Banos, seen the inner sanctum of the national hero's ancestral home in Calamba, looked at old houses in old Santa Cruz, and driven around San Pedro and San Pablo, I have not been fortunate enough to shoot the rapids in proud Pagsanjan or smelled the fresh air of humble Majayjay.

- In Puerto Princesa, Palawan, there was a crocodile farm known as Irawan, a joint Japan-Philippines project. I was inside having fun, running from one group of crocs to the other, when I called out to my companions, 'Hey guys, come over here, the Congress is in session here', pointing to them some fierce-looking buwayas who seemed to be in some kind of an animal meeting. After I said it, the security guard looked at me with eyes as fierce as the crocodiles'. Then it hit me. The Speaker of Congress that time was Monching Mitra, an icon in Puerto Princesa. And in the city's wet market, I swear I saw oysters laid on concrete tables - they were as huge as family-sized pizza pies.

Ahhhh, Philippines, don't you dare change and be famous for pizza pies!