The alarm went off at exactly 3:00 a.m. and I was the first to climb
out of bed at 3:02 a.m. I called for
Diana, Toy, and James to rise and shine, but it appeared the latter two desired
more shut eye as I had to stick my head in the boy’s bedroom door and subtly
encourage them to get their bony butts out of bed and toward the breakfast
table. Even as the two sat there
lethargically, it was as if they had only transferred their sleeping mode from
a horizontal position to a vertical one.
Unfortunately, I had too many tasks to complete before 3:30 a.m. and
getting them awake was not to be one of them.
I packed the frozen bottles of water, snacks, and knee pills
(Hydrocodone). I also ingested my
ibuprofen and multivitamin, heaven knows I was going to need all of my vitamins
within a couple of hours. I had a new
pair of athletic shoes ready for the trek, but also took along a trusty pair of
leather sandals. By 3:30 a.m., the trike was loaded and ready for departure, however,
the two males were still sitting at the table.
For me, it was frustrating as Americans, for the most part, lived by a
schedule, but here in the Philippines, life did not operate in that
fashion. When I requested a little more
action from them, they gave me a doleful stare which slowly transformed itself
into a slow expression of annoyance.
Still, they eventually arose to the occasion and we were finally out of
the gate at 3:42 a.m.
When I wrote of my walk to Bacolod, it was true that the National
Highway at 4:00 a.m. was devoid of traffic back in 2013. Well,
times had definitely changed by
December of 2015. The roads were full of
sugar cane trucks, retail trucks, trikes, buses, and cars. All were driving with their high beams on
and when I would flash my bright light at them, many would switch their lights
to low beam, while others would just continue to drive at me with their glaring
lights, blinding me to anything which might be on my side of the road. After a while I had determined that those who
drove without dimming their lights had most likely never been taught where the dimmer
switch was located. Perhaps the same was
also true for those vehicles (and I mean cars, trucks motorbikes etc.) that
drove without illuminated headlights.
Within the first fifteen kilometers of leaving home I happened upon two
trikes who were in front of me without lit headlights or taillights. Those were the real dangers along with broken
down trucks in your line of travel with no emergency flashers of any kind to
alert you of their presence. Even though
I made relatively good time traveling to Kabankalan from Himamaylan City, the
next segment was going to be a bit more challenging.
 | |
| Toy Toy Baguio on the highway by Mabinay |
Another difference between July of 2013 and December of 2015 was the
temperatures. It was refreshingly cool
that July, whereas it was frigidly cold the morning of our departure. It may have been in the middle seventies, but
there was just enough humidity to add a chilling bite to our morning ride. The most complaints that morning were about
the jerky drivers and bright headlights, but a close second was the grumblings
of how terribly cold it was. Even I will
confess that it was a tad bit on the chilly side, but I also kept that opinion
to myself. Of course, we all know how
men are supposed to rise above such petty problems when on a mission of such importance
as this one.
When the trike was struggling up the humongous one kilometer hill
southeast of Kabankalan City, we came upon a wreck where two large trucks had
collided. It appeared as if a sugar cane
truck may have been broken down when it was rear ended by a Coca Cola
transport. Only one lane was usable to
get around the collision and because of the size of the overturned vehicle on
the road, you could not tell if someone was coming from the opposite
direction. Yet, we made it through the scattered
sugar cane stalks and broken glass and also around the dead vehicles as the
trike slowly ground its way up that seemingly endless grade.
I should probably mention that the headlight on the tricycle was not
much better than if you had used a flashlight ….in fact, I think a flashlight
could have done a better job….and yes, when living in the state of Maine I had
to use a flashlight once on the motorcycle when going to work (while in the
Navy) as the headlamp had burned out that day.
In rural Maine, in the mid-seventies, you just didn’t find an auto parts
store on every corner.
The highway was exceedingly dark with limited visibility due to its
many curves. Even with the high beam on,
it only provided a modicum of additional light.
It was very depressing and a bit unnerving as we cruised down the
highway at the madcap speed of between forty and fifty kilometers per hour
(between 25 mph & 31 mph). You may
chuckle at our pace, but I want to stress, that was how bad the headlamp
was. It was even worse when you
considered the intermittent trucks that would careen your way with their high
beams on. Another potential tragedy in
the making I experienced was that the large trucks would cut corners. Or as the rules of the road stated in the
Philippines, “Might Makes Right”. Had I
not slowed down and squeezed the outside edges of the corners, I would have ended
up like one of the many flattened carcasses, a result of indifference on the
part of the oncoming traffic. Normally
the drive to Mabinay would have taken forty-five minutes during daylight hours. However, driving there in the dark consumed one
hour and fifteen minutes of invaluable time.
Several times each year I would just meander that way on the motorbike
and sit upon a raised platform at a local bakery in Mabinay. They always had fresh pastries as well as
chilled bottles of Pepsi…always a plus for me.
I would sit there for an hour or more and watch the traffic on the
National Highway pass by. Sometimes I
would take pictures, while at other times I would just sit and watch. If I happened to be there on market day, I
was always fascinated by the people who came into town from the nearby
mountains. Many would dress in their best clothes for the
trip into civilization. A few would sit
at the bakery and eat rolls or buns while drinking Pepsi or Mountain Dew. Market
day was always a family affair and thus you would see small children tagging
along with their parent(s) up and down the street. Most certainly, I was their center of attention
being a foreigner, but they were also the center of my attention. I have always been curious as to the lifestyle
of those who lived within the wilderness of those nearby hills. Someday, I hope to explore the uplands a
little more thoroughly.
The tricycle portion of our journey to Mabinay ended at that
bakery. There they had Pandesal (a small
doughy bun) which was freshly
baked and almost melted in your mouth. We sat
and discussed our itinerary for the day, which in reality there was none. For most of my life I performed tasks like
this spontaneously. Besides, the few
times I did try to follow a plan, they all failed miserably. Finishing our drinks and hot buns, James, our
support driver, took a couple of pictures of us outside the bakery and at 5:29
a.m., we were off on our adventure.
 | |
| Daryl Cleveland, Diana & Toy Baguio - Mabinay, Negros Oriental |
The hint of a dawning light was faintly showing as we rapidly
descended a hill and crossed the Namangyan River Bridge. The
houses bordering the highway as well as along
the banks of the river were silent attesting to the early hour of the day as we
walked up a small grade and passed fields of sugar cane along with corn. There were some very ornate homes located
aside the highway during this part of the trek and were as deathly quiet as the
more basic models intermingled alongside.
 | |
| Field of harvested corn - Mabinay, Negros Oriental |
It wasn’t long before the golden rays of an impending sun begun to
shine brightly through a break in a dark layer of clouds. At about that same time we came upon a young
family out for the day. It consisted of
four children, all under the age of eight years sitting behind a fence at the
edge of the roadway. A middle aged male
was standing over them and asked what we were doing. Diana replied we were walking to
Kabankalan. His countenance was of astonishment
at hearing that statement. He said
nothing more, but a slow smile formed on his face and as we continued stepping
up the gravel siding.
 | |
| Golden Rays upon the Horizon - Mabinay, Negros Oriental |
Not too much further along a motorbike raced past and the driver
yelled that Diana needed the foreigner to jog!
That was a first for me as rarely did you ever hear any comments at all,
but it did get Toy to snicker. Continuing on, in a hazy meadow flanked by
sugar cane, a Filipino was tending his Carabao and waved at us as we sauntered
by.
 |
| Farmer with Carabao - Mabinay, Negros Oriental |
We passed another residence where the family was out taking their
morning bath. Now an outdoor bath in
the Philippines is not like an indoor bath in the states. When bathing here, the important clothing
remained on…..in essence, the women washed while wearing their outer garments as
the men continued to wear their briefs during the daily cleansing. Some residents
were lucky to have running water out of a spigot (hand pump) whereas others
were relegated to pulling buckets of the frigid liquid out of shallow wells.
 | |
| A Filipino Couple bathing - Mabinay, Negros Oriental |
 |
| Diana & Toy Baguio in the haze of a new day |
We had already trekked over five kilometers (3.2 miles) as weapproached the first significant hill and my shirt was already becoming
saturated. Still, we were all in good
spirits as the daunting grade approached.
Now it was time to see if all my
walking was worth anything as we crossed a short bridge at the bottom of a narrow
valley and began our ascent.
There is a strange thing about my legs, or psyche, or both when
jaunting up hills. Whenever there is a
grade to be climbed, for whatever reason, it is like my legs go into a sort of
climbing mode. My pace quickens as I
methodically move upward. My unique way of walking up hills has been
around for as long as I can remember. In
preparing for our journey across Iowa in 2003, Brad and I had walked fourteen
miles one day to the town of Early. On
that sunny Saturday morning, Brad was in one of his adolescent moods and,
although he did not verbally express his displeasure, he was determined to walk
me into the ground as we traversed the flat stretches so prevalent in Central
Iowa. It was exasperating as I was no
match to his long legs and youthful exuberance, however, I got the last laugh though
as with each hill, my climbing mode would kick in and I would just walk away
from him. In the end he would have to
jog at times just to keep up. After the
third rise, he panted that I needed to slow down to which I replied, if he
would walk decently on the level land, I would walk pull in on the reins during
the hills.
And thus, with this first grade my climbing gear kicked in. Fortunately for us, although the sun had been
up for over a half
hour, it remained behind a bank of thick clouds which seemed
to lazily hang above the surrounding peaks.
It certainly made the ascent easier to overcome. Toy stayed right by my side as we moved up
that hill, regrettably though, Diana fell behind from the very beginning and lagged
further back as we clambered ever upward. Finally, I told Toy to go back and
escort his mother and he did that for a short while…before jogging back to my
side. After the journey, I asked him why
he would always return to me on those hills and he sheepishly replied that he preferred
being by my side during those strenuous times.
 | |
| Toy Toy Baguio & Daryl Cleveland on the first big hill of the day |
After seven kilometers (4.25 miles) we took our first break on the
trike at an unnamed as well as unmarked intersection. Behind us
was a sari-sari store and a few
steps up was a Videoke bar. Across the
highway was a handful of bamboo dwellings with children outside and one child
kept yelling “Kano! Kano!” There were a couple of people behind us at
the store as well as several sitting outside the open air bar drinking native
coffee. No one came over to chat with
us and apart from curious (as well as a few glaring) stares, we were silently
treated as passing travelers, albeit unusual ones, just taking a break.
 | |
| Diana & Toy Baguio w/James Baguio standing behind |
During our respite, the sun rose above the billowing mass of condensed
moisture and blanketed the land with its radiance. With seven more kilometers to complete and
now with old sol ready to bless us with all its brilliance as well as
implacable heat, we put away our refreshments, repacked our snacks and prepared
to continue on our journey ever northwestward.
Before we departed, I asked James if he had seen the yellow
kilometer
markers along the highway and he shook his head in the affirmative (James was
not big on words). I said that we were
at kilometer post seven and would like him to drive the trike four kilometers
and wait for us at kilometer post three.
Again, he shook his head confirming what I had directed. As we started across the highway, I shouted
back that we would meet him at kilometer
post 3 and he waved back in acknowledgement.
 | |
| James Baguio on the green trike - Mabinay, Negros Oriental |
Rolling landscape greeted us as we moved along the highway.
Traffic was sparse, but steady while the open
expanse of land allowed us to be under the ever watchful eye of that merciless
orb above. Like our walk to Bacolod, we did not meet or
even observe anyone walking along the road, however, we did find people sitting
in the shade along the endless strip of concrete. Some were cutting firewood, a few were
visiting with their neighbors, as others were doing their laundry.
 | |
| Toy & Diana Baguio nearing Barangay Hagtu |
One such encounter involved a woman who was having a heated discussion
with her neighbors across the highway. A long branch of green bananas was sitting
upright against her leg as we approached.
“You had better get out of the way for those people coming!” Taunted a lady on the other side of the
pavement.
“I see them!” she shot back.
“There’s plenty of room for them to walk by! I don’t need to move! I don’t intend to bother them!”
As we neared to within a few feet of the disgruntled lady, she grabbed
the stalk of bananas and backed away from the road and allowing us to easily
pass by. The woman didn’t have to move,
but did all the same…and then resumed her squabble with the neighbors across
the highway as we journeyed into the distance.
A little further on, we came upon a group of school age children with
backpacks. Their mother had taken them
to the road and they
were walking toward a stream up ahead, but stopped as soon
as they noticed us. The young girls
really stared at Toy as he stepped by and also gave Diana and me a discriminating
once over. Of course I cheerfully said
“Hi!” to the handful of youth and a couple nervously replied “Hi” back. As we neared the bridge, there was a path
that led to a boulder laden stream below and as we crossed on the narrow
sidewalk above, the youngsters took the path down to the creek below.
 | |
| Toy encounters children along the siding under a mother's watchful eye |
Turning the corner at the completion of the bridge we encountered our
first serious climb of the day. This
was what all the early morning walks had been for and even though I did not
scale any hills of this magnitude nor length, I felt that if I paced myself, it
would
not be overly difficult. Had I
been twenty, thirty, forty, or even fifty years old, it would not have been a
serious contender compared to others I had faced during my many walks. Yet, here I was sixty-four years old and for
me, the hill was almost intimidating.
Still, without hesitation, I began to attack the grade. Even though I had convinced myself to take it
slow and steady up that rise, it seemed my legs were not on the same wavelength
and as the incline increased, the stride gathered speed. Again, Diana quickly fell behind and about
halfway up the hill, I had to tell Toy to go back to her aid. In the
end, just before reaching the top, I stopped and waited for them to catch up so
we could walk into Barangay Dahile together.
 | |
| Our first serious hill of the day - Dahile, Mabinay, Negros Oriental |
I can’t say that all Barangays (Barrios) have unique names, but the
ones along this route seemed memorable to me.
While walking through Negros Oriental, there was Barangay Pandanon (nearby
where we took our first break), then we passed through Barangay Dahile,
followed by Barangay Hagtu (all three were under Mabinay jurisdiction). In Negros Occidental, we would trek through Barangay
Tagukan, Barangay Camingawan, and finally Barangay Oringao before reaching the
city of Kabankalan. Personally, one Barangay name which stands
out in my mind is Barangay Talaban on the north edge of Himamaylan City
proper. Surely, it has nothing to do
with the real Taliban terrorist group, but is unique in its own namesake.
It was in Barangay Dahile where we first saw the furniture just
sitting alongside the highway, unattended as we passed by in the early morning
darkness on the trike. Now, daylight had
arrived and the furniture was still sitting alongside the highway unattended. The difference between the first passing and
now was the hamlet was awake with Saturday’s activities. A small market, off the highway, was busy
with early shoppers…and then there were those who stopped whatever they were
doing to watch the sweat saturated foreigner stroll through town with his two
cohorts alongside. I could just make out the murmuring, but no
one asked what we were doing or where we were going.
 | ||
| Wooden structure with fish ornaments - Barangay Dahile |
Our little trio sauntered back out into the country and I was quite
excited knowing that cold water was awaiting me in a fraction of a
kilometer. A few hundred meters later I could see
kilometer post three, but to my dismay, there was no trike! I stopped in my tracks, my mouth hung open
as I muttered, “Where is James?!?” Diana and Toy came alongside also stopped,
staring at the vacant space where a trike was supposed to be. I asked Diana to call James on the cell
phone which resulted in a message that the number dialed was out of service or
person was away. Our inability to contact him did not leave us with
any options and thus, we could only keep walking in the hope that he might be
somewhere nearby.
 | |
| two story house with wooden inscriptions - Barangay Dahile |
The road proceeded to wind down a hill which crossed a bridge
spanning
a dry streambed. On the other side, on a
ledge against a rock wall (which had pipes protruding from it) was a wash
station and as usual, there were a couple women washing laundry while a man had
just arrived to bathe. The ladies giggled as we took their picture
and the man preened himself for Diana’s benefit…well, I hoped it was for her
benefit and not mine.
 |
| Hagtu, Mabinay, Negros Oriental - Women doing laundry |
Again, the ascending hill was steep and winding. It was not as arduous as the previous one,
but I had not had any liquid for the previous four kilometers and with sweat
pouring out of every pore
whilst the sun methodically boiled my brain, the walk
had become increasingly difficult. The
only saving grace was that maybe, James might be at the top of this rise. As we slowly ground our way upward, I stopped
once to allow Diana to catch up. It was
hot, really hot and as I crested the grade, I leaned my back against a large
stone and waited for Diana once more. A small
group of Filipinas were standing nearby buying little buns (for their Sari-Sari
stores) from a passing motorbike who had two large plastic containers (one on
each side) filled with the plastic wrapped baked goods. They never said a word to us and I was
confident they were staring at my rugged and wet condition.
 | |
| A two lane crosswalk - Barangay Hagtu Elementary School |
Diana arrived and I whispered that I would not be able to walk much
further under the current situation. She
assured me that James had to be over the next rise or around the next
corner. The heat being as it was, I was
a bit skeptical at her confidence as we resumed our walk through the Barangay
of Hagtu. My condition was such that I really didn’t
remember any particulars about that town.
My only
thoughts were on where James might have gone…James, oh James,
why hast thou forsaken thee. Okay, maybe
I wasn’t so dramatic, but was a bit angered over being purportedly abandoned…and
then, around the next curve, at kilometer marker two sat the green trike.
 | ||
| Mountains in the background & fields in the foreground |
James was sitting comfortably within the shade of the sidecar, music
was emanating from his cell phone as he waited patiently for our arrival. Obviously, I was upset, but I had enough
decency left (I still needed his services for the next two days) to allow Diana
to inquire as to why he was at that location and not a kilometer back up the
road. James’ explanation was simple enough;
he had interpreted my kilometer post three as in driving to the third post
after our breakpoint which just so happened to be kilometer post two. I should be thankful that there was a post
there. Had there been no other kilometer
posts, it could have turned into a really long day!
This time, I told James to go two kilometers and showed him the
odometer on the motorbike as to the number where he needed to stop. I explicitly showed him the odometer again and
said that we would all have cold Pepsi at the market in Tagukan. I was
sure that the instructions were clear to him and in a way, relieved that we
only had two kilometers left to travel. After a pleasant twenty minutes in the shade
and having quenched my thirst with chilled ice water, Diana, Toy, and I
departed for our last segment.
 | |
| Hagtu, Mabinay, Negros Oriental - bamboo suspended power line |
We sauntered down the hill through the western fringes of Barangay Hagtu
and across a long bridge spanning the waterway below. On the other side was a wearisome hill with a
lone shade tree two-thirds of the way up.
Again, my legs took over, but the damage of no water earlier had taken
its toll. The only salvation was the
distant shade tree which already had a motorbike and two Filipinos standing
beneath. Excessive heat can do something
to a person. The sun was quickly sapping
my energy and it was becoming a serious struggle to complete those last few
meters. Still, I inevitably reached
that leafy shelter. Diana and Toy were
also suffering from the heat as they plodded up and we all crammed into the limited
shade. It was my turn to spread encouragement
to our tired group, letting them know that in a hundred or so meters after
cresting the grade, there was the market with refreshments and the first days
walk would be finished.
The short rest made all the difference as we three finished the last
section in good spirits as well as in good time. It was amazing how the prospects of a cold
Pepsi could lift the spirits and when we came to the corner where the market
was located, I was excitedly anticipating my green trike to be parked in the
shade ready to take us back home. Did I
ever comment that Fairy Tales aren’t real?
Well, neither was the trike sitting at, nearby, or even across from the
market!!!
For the life of me, I could not understand why James wasn’t there again! I looked down the highway…no green trike and
no James. I knew that old sol was
chuckling with glee at our misfortune, but it was not glee that was dancing
through my mind. I turned to Diana and commented
sarcastically, “With my luck, James probably thought I said the market at
Kabankalan and is having a cold Pepsi there at our expense.” Both Toy and Diana were at a loss for words
at this revelation of no trike.
Exasperated now, a cold drink at the market was the last thing on my
mind and we started walking down the highway in search of that elusive tricycle. The land was level for the most part at that
point,
but as we came upon a slight decline, in the distance Diana spied the
green roof of our trike. I was elated, but also perplexed as to why he
parked at that location instead of at the market, like we had agreed upon. Still, by the time we had reached the three
wheeler and its nonchalant driver, only one thing was on our minds and that was
to return to Himamaylan City. It seemed
that for whatever the reason James had for parking a kilometer further down the
road had been forgotten. And to this
day, none of us know why, as James returned to Cebu Island a few days after
completion of our journey and took the explanation with him.
 |
| Toy Baguio at the days finish marker - Barangay Tagukan |
The first day of the walk was to be the most challenging, yet in
certain ways, the next two days would be just as memorable if only in a
different sense. We had walked fifteen
kilometers (9.3 miles) that day and survived the associated traffic and
hills. That alone was a great
accomplishment for me, however, the next two days would challenge me in other
ways as well.
Daryl A. Cleveland a.k.a. bounder
January 22, 2016
You are a brave person.
ReplyDeleteHope your knees hold out the way you abuse them. Nice narrative.
ReplyDelete