Tour of Luzon: From Down South to Up North in 4 Days (Part 1 - Calaguas)

This, too, shall pass,
I say

As I crawl towards Feb's end

Into March's faint light

Saving each tiny breath

Mustering my remaining strength

Let this not be

The slow death of me.

I can't believe it's mid-March already ... and I'm alive!  I survived February, which, for its relative shortness, has been the longest, most jampacked month of my past 12 months.  In fact, it spilled over into March 6th, the eve of my (I must say) well-deserved personal holiday.  An hour before our scheduled departure, I just finished my last meeting, sent my son's grading sheet (a day late) and completed submission of my expense report receipts.  And did I say I wasn't packed yet?  Oh, and I was taking the first shift for the 8-hour drive to Calaguas, Camarines Norte in Bicol.  Needless to say, we left an hour or so late.

I was practically "dying" to go on my holiday.  And I reached Calaguas, just in the nick of time. (Saved by the beach!) Who wouldn't come alive at the sight of this?

Waling Waling EcoVillage
Photo by:  #Inadoodles

To say that the place was breathtaking is an understatement. I find both languages I grew up with - Filipino and English - wanting of an appropriate adjective to describe Calaguas.  I had never seen so many shades of blue, so bold and stark, in any sea/ocean I've traveled through or any sky I've ever been under. The beach was pristine and the vegetation, lush.  This must be one of the last bits of Paradise on earth. (And we had it ALL to ourselves!)  Then, I thought, this is what the next generations will miss out on if mankind continues abusing Earth at the pace of its unchecked greed. 

After gaping and gasping at the scenery, I did what anybody in this century would do ... I took a video and proceeded to upload.  But there was no signal --- unless you went up to the very top of the hill behind the resort.  But why would you do that, when you can swim in crystal clear water?  The plan was to rest once we reached the resort, but the beach beckoned and who are we not to heed? So, we frolicked in the water and lounged under a tree; taking pictures (that do not even come a fraction close to the real thing, so best to just drink it all in with your eyes) in between marveling at the sight. I felt the last pulls of the past months' (or year's) anxieties and stresses lose their grip and slip into the sea, where the waves carried them far away.  With a contented sigh, I thought, how wonderful it is to be off-the-grid!  

Time in the islands,

Like the peace of being underwater,

Makes everything move in slow motion;

Turns all noise into distant muffled sounds.

Photo by:  Ina Nolasco

We explored the shoreline and the rock formations near where we stayed.  I took one look at them and figured I could climb them.  So, I did.  I climbed (up and down) different rock formations, despite my sister's admonitions, but under the watchful gaze of our boatmen -- who, only once, told me not to proceed because it was dangerous ("Ma'am, danger diyan").  At every milestone "little summits", I raised both arms in victory and let out a triumphant "Woohoo!"  And, I thought, save from God, nobody knows my capabilities more than I do.  I should not let anyone's opinion deter me from moving forward to where I want to go or forging my own path or exploring the limits of what I can achieve.  

Photo by:  Ina Nolasco

The following day, our boatmen took us out for an island tour.  First stop was the sandbar.  We reached the place before the water fully receded, so our boatmen had to "feel" their way through the water.  After a few minutes of maneuvering the boat slowly, the oldest boatman exclaimed in surprise.  We hit sand.  I realized, the seas, like life, are ever-changing.  Thus, while there is wisdom in listening to the counsel of the old or those that have gone before me; I should also take the changes and present situation into consideration. Afterall, the circumstances of yesterday (or even a moment ago) are very different from the circumstances of now. 

Then, they took us to the snorkeling site.  It took awhile before we saw fish.  While they came in beautifully varied colors, what struck me most was what one of our boatmen said, "Patay na po yun ibang corals dito." (Some of the corals here have died).  I asked why and was about to probe more, when my sister emerged from her snorkeling wearing a disconcerted look, "Bleaching, Ate. I see coral bleaching".  I put on my gear and looked. There, just underneath me, an immaculately white coral stood out against a background of bleakly colored corals.  I didn't know exactly what I felt at that moment.  But, when we reached the coral-littered shore of our next stop, I knew I felt angry. As we stepped down from the boat, my cousin spoke everyone's thoughts, "This is a coral graveyard!" I thought, even here, where the community has been responsible stewards, there is no escaping the effects of Climate Change and Global Warming - phenomena some people claim are not real. 

Photo by: Ina Nolasco

Coral Graveyard

From far away it was
a shore of pristine white sand;
Up close it was
a shore of dead corals, piled 4 feet high;
A hauntingly beautiful coral graveyard
created by the waves;
In tribute to (or a cry of justice for?)
the silent (and ancient) martyrs
Of man's recklessness

Photo by: Ina Nolasco

and thoughtless folly.

Climate Change is not real, you say

And this heat is not Global Warming;

How many more must die

Before we claim responsibility and rectify?

When will we realize 

That Her death is our extinction? 

When we got back to the resort, there was enough time to swim and create sand art while we waited for the sunset.  And in those dusk moments, when I usually felt a certain melancholy, I felt peaceful.  I thought to myself, somewhere enfolded in these moments, is what life is meant to be.  I don't have it all thought out yet, but I am finally at the fringes of understanding. 

And Time said ...

There is no lack of Time
Only an abundance of moments
And I have made each one uniquely
There is not one the same as another
Each one meant to be experienced
Each moment meant to be lived fully.

On our final night, after dinner, I decided to have a proper look at the stars (which my sister brought to my attention on our first night, but was just too tired).  I know I've said the phrase too many times in this article, but ... I have never seen a sky so full of stars!  The entire horizon and the 180-degree dome of sky above me was riddled with stars.  (I now understood the reason why the resort was so sparsely lit). I went back to our cottage and pestered my son to join me.  I pointed at the few constellations I knew, while my son pointed at a few more (show off!).  My sister and cousin joined us and we all sat out in the beach, gaping at the stars.  Only after a few minutes did I realize, that the patch of sky I thought was filtered by a thin layer of cloud, was actually the Milky Way!  

It's funny how such a sight makes one feel profoundly small, giving way to some very profound thoughts.  I realized, that I have not fully understood the greatness of my God (for how can there not be?) --- nor my smallness (and I don't mean my height). I wondered how, in such a vast universe, can God find time to zoom in on me and care about my littlest most foolish thoughts and feelings?  Why would He? And then, I realized, I don't need to understand. I probably never will.  But it is enough that I know, at my very core, that He loves me.  It is a fundamental truth; although not fully explained by Science, it is fully supported by it.  Everything around me is a grand display of a God deeply in love with His creation. It is only right that we honor Him by loving this world He gave us and everything in it.

She said, "Have you looked up yet?"

I shook my head and then did.

There, above me,

as far as the eyes could see,

Stars as numerous as the sands on the beach.

And then ...

as plain as the brightest constellations,

The Milky Way

in all its quiet resplendent glory.

I felt infinitely small then

And my "wisdom", suddenly laughable.

Photo of the Calaguas sky by @iamfitzcardenas on instagram discovered via PhiliHappy

The following day we started out for mainland at 9 am, just as the waves started welling up. When we reached the port, it started raining.  I chuckled at how the weather sympathized with our reluctance to leave the island; and thought it ironic how time seemed to slow down yet still felt as though it ended too soon. Anyway, I thought, it's time to head back to reality, hopefully, revived, recharged and with renewed purpose.

Water and Time

All around me

Rushing

But Calming

Endless

Yet running out.