THE WALK TO BACOLOD – HIMAMAYLAN CITY TO BINALBAGAN

Many of my walking adventures always began for no specific reason.  When walking to the Missouri River (fifteen years ago now), I just wanted to see how far I could walk in one day….which in that case was thirty miles.  In the issue of walking across Iowa, I just thought it would be an exciting adventure with my son, Brad.  However, in the matter of the walk to Bacolod, it all began with the price of onions at the new market.

I should probably clarify this a little. A while before the market episode, I had commented to Julius and his wife Marianne that I was thinking of walking from Himamaylan City to Binalbagan (a distance of about six miles).  Julius smiled as Marianne told me how dangerous it was.  She worried that I would be robbed and killed with my lifeless body being dumped in the sugar cane field to rot until harvest.  I want to emphasize that she was quite serious in her opinion.  She had heard of this happening to others and was concerned that it could easily happen to me. Now, I had driven that highway several times and rarely did I see anyone walking that stretch of asphalt.  Diana and the kids were along during our visit and after hearing those remarks, she and I looked at each other in quiet disbelief.  I still considered the short challenge involved in the walk, but quickly let it pass as with most everything else in my inactive life.

Returning back to the New Market episode on that fateful day, we were doing our weekly shopping and were pricing onions.  Being a foreigner, the vendors on Cebu as well as Luzon, would increase the price of their produce due to my presence.  In fact, in Cebu, I would have to go sit at the small park in Balamban with the kids while the shopping was done by Diana and her mother.  In the issue of the new market in Himamaylan City, the vendors wanted forty pesos for a kilo of onions.  I had never questioned the price of anything there, but on that day I commented to Diana in a low voice we were being taken advantage of.  She tried to bargain down the price, but the vendors were adamant.  Unfortunately, I was also equally obstinate and told her to not buy those layered bulbs.

As we walked the two kilometers back to our house, I expressed my displeasure to Diana at the vendors inflexibility just because I was a foreigner.  We had finally reached the gate to our compound when I suggested we should walk to Binalbagan to see if those onions could be had any cheaper.  Diana gave me that critical stare like I was missing a few gray cells that morning, but she also knew my quirkiness in walking long distances.  Still, she was not about to let me walk alone in case of problems.  So, after dropping the market purchases off as well as making sure that the kids were taken care of (they were in school at that time) we started walking north and toward the highway.

Mt. Mabanban - San Antonio, Zambales - 2010

The sun was well into the morning sky as we reached the National Highway.  At that time of day, you really cherished the shade, but being on the west side of the highway, it didn’t provide much protection from the watchful eye of old sol.  Almost forty years ago, I had decided to climb (along with two co-workers) to the top of Mt. Mabanban which was located just south of San Antonio, Zambales on the western side of Luzon.  As we began to scale the rocky behemoth, the shade was abundant until you climbed above the tree line, then the sun became insufferable and the ascent became far

A more youthful me in 1975

more difficult. Yet, I had learned one valuable lesson with walking, climbing, or even working outside in the Philippines, you had to start very early (at or just before sunrise) and complete your hike or task before the sun rose too far into the morning sky. Unfortunately, for me, it was not to be the case that day.

Rambling by the San Miguel Brewery warehouse, we happened upon Diana’s brother, Julius, who was in search of perspective passengers for his trike.  Of course, he asked where we were going and Diana said that we were walking to Binalbagan.  His lips curled up into a wry smile and then he peered up into the cloudless sky and said, “So far.”   I showed him the lone bottle of water we had purchased and replied that the walk would not take long. 

The road to Binalbagan was for the most part straight with a couple very shallow curves along the way.  Except for a rather busy intersection at Aguisan, the sides of the road were bordered by stalks of sugar cane.  Occasionally there was a waiting shade for those who lived back behind the fields, but you rarely saw anyone inhabiting them.  In contrast to the states, there were no shoulders along this stretch of highway, but thank goodness no ditches either.  However, since it was late July and the harvesting of sugar cane would not begin for three more months, there were places where the plants edged out toward the traveled portion of the road and thus we were occasionally pricked by their pointy shoots.  

For me, the walk so far was rather uneventful and we met no pedestrians during the first segment which was six kilometers in

Aguisan Intersection w/road to town to the right side of highway

length and ended at the Aguisan intersection.  There were a number of trikes parked in the shade alongside the highway awaiting passengers who would dismount from the passing buses and/or jeepneys and then transport them the one-half kilometer into the barangay center.  The handful of drivers were huddled into a small group smoking cigarettes and they certainly gave Diana and me a curious eye as we sidled past.  We continued walking a couple hundred meters further north before settling at a waiting shade located at the entrance to the Catholic Cemetery. 

The graveyard was located just off the highway.

Catholic Cemetery - Barangay Aguisan

The grounds had no trees within but the grounds were filled with raised concrete

tombs; all painted brilliantly white with several having canopies atop their sarcophagi.  We sat there in the shade sipping on the bottled water while enduring the hot winds which were beginning to blow across the open fields.  

After a time, we proceeded up the road, watching the endless traffic as we avoided the prickly branches which were intermittently obstructing our path.  Suddenly, we came upon a road which had

A rarely used Boulevard in the middle of the country

once been a boulevard.  Two lanes ventured off to the west with a line of trees on each side of the dirt and grass covered thoroughfare.  To the north of the lanes was a set of narrow gauge railroad tracks that had been covered over by the roadway decades ago.  It made me wonder where the boulevard led to, but it was not the day to wander into the unknown on foot. Between Aguisan and the river on the south edge of Binalbagan, again, we never encountered any pedestrians on that five kilometer segment and,

The old bridge on the right with new bridge on the left

except for the boulevard which was bordered by sugar cane, we did not come upon any trees along the highway until reaching the river crossing. We crossed the waterway on an old concrete bridge which had been replaced by a wider bridge built with metal trusses.  The water beneath was a muddy brown from the seasonal rains. A long abandoned railroad trestle could be seen twenty or so meters up the narrow waterway.  A hamlet of bamboo and wooden structures bordered the river as we walked across the bridge, while a smattering of pre-school children played outside their homes under the watchful eye of their mothers. 

The short trek into town was shaded with large trees extending over the highway.  A gravel shoulder eased our walk as we observed a schoolyard full of teenagers at the local high school situated on the other side of the highway.  Still, we saw no one walking along the sides of the roadway, however I must note there were plenty of trikes filled with one or more passengers. 

Reaching the street to the market, we quickly turned west again and

Central Market - Binalbagan, Negros Occidental

followed the concrete covered as well as tree free route to the commercial hub of the community.  Being the wiser foreigner, I stopped a half block from the market and savored the refreshing taste of a chilled bottle of Pepsi at a Mr. Donut stand, while Diana walked inside the sheltered structure to price the Onions.  I waited for only a few minutes when Diana returned with a sack of onions.  I was elated to think that she got them for the “non-kano” price they had not offered us in Himamaylan City. 

“Well?” I asked. “How much did they cost here?”

Diana looked at me with that smirky smile of hers, “Forty pesos per kilo.”

I must confess, replies like that can just ruin a person’s day.

On our bus ride back to Himamaylan City, I closed my eyes and pondered the walk now completed.  I concluded that I had learned a valuable lesson about Himamaylan City.  One was that the vendors/retail establishments really didn’t care whether you were a foreigner or not, business was business and prices did not vary because of where you were originally from.  Second, the vendors as well as the people of that community were for the most part honest.  Later I learned that I could still bargain for a better price if I knew the right vendor or business establishment to frequent. 

Less than two weeks later, I would make a three hundred peso wager with Diana’s younger brother that he could not walk from Himamaylan City to Kabankalan City (about ten miles).  However, that was a different adventure altogether. 

Daryl A. Cleveland . . . a.k.a. bounder     

November 29, 2015

Note:  I did not have a camera on the day of this walk and thus most of the pictures were taken today.