Manila Bay Cruise: A Tour of Friendship

When the dusk is coming its way over the brimming light of the sun, the blue sky starts to metamorphose into a reddish-orange and apricot hues mixed with the slightly dim atmosphere until the darkness finally devour the remaining sunbeams and surrender everything under the moon’s ward, leaving the sky with the gleaming stars where the only space between them is darkness.

Manila Bay Sunset

There’s no wonder that a perfect sunset rests at Manila Bay. Right after the sun bids farewell, the popping stars from above would feed your eyes and imagination.

This scenario is the best time to take a pause, keep still, and relish the sight before you. And every time I watch twilight with overwhelming fascination, I always believe that there’s magic in Manila.

Having toured the Corregidor Island and Manila Bay through a Cruise within the same day was an opportunity which might happen only once in my life as a traveler. Before the dusk, we were already sailing the damaged sea of Manila Bay. The one-hour cruise has toured me to the life behind its coast which are both growing and alarming–growing because rapid urban life and business establishments are sprouting near its boundary; alarming because the sea’s condition, as time runs by, is constantly getting worse.

Growing urban life

When I was in college, my friends and I used to meander at Roxas Boulevard. It had once served as one of our refuges whenever we need a break from our (literally) noisy surroundings. We boycotted our classes twice to visit Manila Bay, watch the sunset and  profess our singing prowess (if there is) at the video-oke booths and food establishments situated along the long pavements of Manila Bay. In 2005, the whole stretch of the bay was very lively especially at night. If you know of Pier One in Mall of Asia (MOA) that’s how it was like 6 years ago. There was also a time when we had picnic in the area before going to Star City but ended peeking and spying at random lovers around. Seeing them smooching and making body languages that should only be done behind the walls of their rooms was like a film to us. We enjoyed it so much to the point that we weren’t able to push through with our original plan because the free live movie screening was very tempting. It’s a must-try not only in Luneta but also in Roxas before. Should repeat this: before. Hahaha! (I think it’s part of growing up in a city where temptations are prevalent. If there are kids reading this, don’t do the same. Situation could have been different now. Hmm… Lemme check one of these days. Friends, let’s volt in. Kidding.)

Back then, my trips with friends were born out peer pressure, curiosity, and of young friendship trying to discover the interest of each in the group. It started as innocent—us being young, teenagers, and unripe— with view of a carefree world ahead of us until it evolved to treasured ones which once brought up during our meet ups today would make us overjoyed. For several times, Manila Bay has cuddled our souls when we were looking for fun, adventure, and a place to share our frivolities. It is where we learned to share our dreams and experiences, and eventually developed trust to everyone in our group. It also became an avenue for us to boast our achievements amongst us when we were in our younger years and confess our sarcasm to our classmates. If the ocean can speak, I’m sure it will tell a lot of our blissful memories.

Before twilight

Before, when I hear about Manila Bay, I always manage a secret grin and words such as fun, video-oke, food trip, sunset, nonsense talks and friendship would instantly cross my mind.

Just recently, when I joined my co-travelers on a cruise around this ocean facing the South China Sea, Manila Bay revealed a new story.

Manila Bay Cruise is not new to me since I’ve heard of this so many times from the word of mouth and read about it online. However, it made a lot of difference upon sailing its calm sea with my fellow travelers (Pinoy Travel Bloggers) who share the same passion and interest—traveling.

My fellow travelers (Pinoy Travel Bloggers)

Good food while sailing

Following our fun-filled and exhausting adventure in Corregidor Island, I found myself sitting in a cruise, listening to a live band, consuming a delicious meal, and enjoying the company of my new found friends. Life has been so generous to me when it granted me time to mingle with them; share my hilarious memories the last time I was on the road; update them with my upcoming trips; inform them of the places I want to chase; make them aware of my frustrations when I travel and in return, be inspired by their stories.

An hour of cruising has kept us relaxed and gratified of the opportunity given to us that day; much more of the chance to travel which we look forward each day of our lives.  As nomads, we undyingly seek for one thing: explore, and keep on exploring as long as the time and our pocket permit.

Some shared their flashbacks of Manila Bay and in Manila Bay making them passionate of every word they uttered. I saw a sign of grief on their faces which for me is normal for those who witnessed the majesty of the ocean before it transformed into what it is today. It manifests through the unpleasant yet tolerable breeze originating from the ocean. But no matter how tolerable it is, it still boils down into one: the water is becoming extinct while the urban life in the city we admire soars.

Bitter reality indeed.

We all have our own fair share of experiences in every piece of land in our country that gives us a wider perspective of life. This latest visit in the old thoroughfares of Roxas Boulevard and my Manila Bay Cruise experience reminded me to savor the first friendship I nurtured here when I was a student and opened the gate for a new friendship among my fellow travelers while I balance my professional and personal life. But it could have been more worthy if the ocean is clean.

Up to now, my faith is still strong that if every Filipino acquires the heart of a traveler or discovers the grace of traveling, come hell or high water, it will be hard for global warming to conquer  this land and there will be no damaged seas anymore like that of Manila Bay.

(Special thanks Sir Ivan Henares, Bambi Aquino, and Sun Cruises for sponsoring our trip.)

Marikina! Over the Years

Since I arranged another appointment that same day when I visited Antipolo, I had to let my Tanay’s itinerary drift to my so-called “bucket list”—it’s where places I would love to see labeled as my next priority; to visit next week, next month, next year or if I have time; for short trip only, side trip, until my ambitious memory bury them into never-mind-for-now and I-will-forget-this-first to give way to my other priorities. I have mastered the art of putting things in my bucket list eventually, until such time I would realize that there are plenty of them inside compared to the actual places I have been through. On the other hand, it reminds me as well to catch up with my travels and cage myself under the mercy of constrained allowance to save more penny for my future trips, to the point that I’m unerringly one meter away from scarcity. But of course, being under the spell of dearth is one thing I won’t let happen.

I still have four remaining hours to consume before I proceed to my other business and I didn’t want to spoil my time roaming in malls to window-shop or stay in a coffee shop or restaurant to stare at the ceiling and be a keen spectator to smooching tawdry couples because I didn’t have a book with me to kill time. Sometimes, even time is gold, we spend time to kill time. Weird, isn’t it?

So there I was, boarding the first trike that passed in front of me. I told the driver to bring me to the terminal going to Marikina; because from there, I know how to get back to Quezon City.

I sat almost beside the driver for the reason that I really don’t know where to go in Marikina; paid P25 and reminded the driver to drop me off at the city hall or any place near the heart of the city. He looked confused when I literally said “kung hindi po sa city hall, ibaba nyo nalang po ako sa heart of the city.” I was more than surprised when he replied “okay.” So I presumed he understood what I meant or he was only one of the deaf drivers who don’t care with the instructions given by passengers. Either of the two, I really didn’t care because I gave ambiguous instructions on the first hand.

When the jeepney left the terminal, I became aware that I was chasing the unknown. Gladly, I quickly remembered that an online article—months ago—has introduced me to Shoe Museum and Kapitan Café in Marikina. So while passing through the unfamiliar roads going north, I was also busy browsing my phone to check where the exact locations of my instant destinations to hunt are. Internet gave me streets that I don’t even know, fortunately there was a blog mentioning that the museum is just near the city hall. I had a little moment of success there because I knew then that I’m heading to the right direction. This deserves a clever grin.

From Antipolo to Marikina forty minutes was a long journey for someone exposing his flesh under the more than 30 degrees sun’s rays, especially when you’re traveling alone. Burning my ass in a small space beside the other passenger who was sitting beside the driver and staring at both province-like and city-like ranges of Antipolo had permitted random recollections in my head. I devoted much of my time excavating the closet of my memory if there’s about Marikina store in it. I’m no history buff but I have a photographic memory; thus, I know I can extract something, depending on how and where my mad mind flies.

Nuestra Senora de los Desamparados Church

Church’s interior

I will always remember the trademark of Marikina as the Shoe Capital of the Philippines. However, that was not my first recollection about the city. I was convincing myself to enjoy the long ride when images and news about Marikina started to play in my mind like a movie flick. My cerebrum first slide showed that the city has been dragged as the rape capital of the Philippines during the 90s—a very bad branding that tainted the reputation of the city and became part of its history. I cannot seem to recall how the news spawned fright to Marikenos; but one thing is clear, that bad light through and through became the sword of Marikenos to regain their loss and make the community a peaceful place to live in again.

Then the second slide entered the scene. Things cannot be reformed overnight; hence it took years for the city government and its people to cope with the ghastly plight that hounded Marikina for an indeterminate period. During the 21^st century, rape cases in the community significantly dropped. Not long after, the wicked fate of Marikina has turned into oblivion when the city has received an award as the Cleanest and Greenest City not only in Metro Manila but in the Philippines.

While pondering how it was like wandering in Marikina for several times and remembering my most memorable visit in this piece of land, the third slide crossed in—the notable Ondoy. It was in October 2009 when the ravaging floods hit the country and among the cities in Metro Manila that experience the rage of typhoon, Marikina felt the hardest blow. Five days later, I, together with my friends traveled Marikina—where debris are everywhere and lifeless animals are scattered left and right—to help out another friend who lost everything except her life and her family. Lucky are those who were able to escape death and continue living despite of the fact that when Ondoy was crying they were inches away from death. But sorry for those who consider themselves as living dead after the disaster washed out the lives of their loved ones. Life must go on, so as to Marikina. At present, I still have clear images of the city roofed by mud that almost left it like giant reeking mire. There was no sign that Marikina is the cleanest city nationwide after Ondoy.

It was the last time I saw Marikina. And then I bid goodbye.

The movie flick running in my head has ended the moment I got off the jeepney and walked for 10 minutes to the Shoe Museum.

Now, Marikina is lively again.

Shoe Museum

Shoe Museum is not like one’s ordinary shoe store or one’s typical museum. Its structure is more akin to a municipal library. If not for its façade and location (along the highway), I would have also mistaken it to a classic stone house.

With the giant shoe

This is a revelation to all photo enthusiasts: cameras are already allowed inside unlike before. Another revelation to museum hoppers: entrance fee is now P50. According to the receptionist, it started as free, and then it became P5 to P20 to P40 to P50 at present. Whether you are a resident or from another planet you will pay the same amount. Well, I’m sure the current fee won’t hurt your pocket. I suppose one reason for the increase is to give assistance to the city that is recovering from the damage triggered by Ondoy.

Do you want another revelation? (See my photos below. Hehe)

BF’s work of art

Shoes from around globe

Shoes of prominent politicians

The Portrait

Imelda’s precious gems

This one is creepy

To placate my curiosity, I pushed myself towards the door. The museum is just a small room. The moment you step in, you’ll see everything inside.

I was informed that they replaced some shoes after Ondoy drenched the museum in flood but I didn’t know exactly how many shoes they have in display. Aside from the mezzanine—the place in the museum where it demonstrates shoe making— the room is also divided into three partitions: the left side is the area for footwear of prominent politicians—both breathing and deceased; the middle part is for the collection of footwear around the world; the right part that almost occupy the whole museum is solely for, until now alive and kicking former First Lady turned Congresswoman, Imelda Marcos. (Go figure!)

You are right! It looks a lot like extension of the shoe cabinet of Imelda Marcos, making me skeptical if the museum was really built in honor of her or to showcase Marikina being the Philippines’ Shoe Capital. I was at the same time wondering why Imelda Marcos chose to dispose her shoes in Marikina. Of all places, why she had thrown her old precious possessions in the city? While I was battling with my mad mind and unsystematic thoughts, I conceived that it’s a museum—where everything is old, vintage, old-fashioned and historic. Let me just make a correction here, shoes here were not disposed but donated. I should put that in mind. Donated not disposed.

Some of my thoughts might have rendered irony, but in the end I learned to associate it with Filipino culture. We give value to the things which were ones owned by our heroes and of distinguished personalities who rendered phenomenal service to our nations, even the smallest ones. We preserve their possessions and keep them as treasures. We even go as far as exhibiting them to museums to proclaim our rich culture and to show our admiration and respect to the great people of our past wherever in the world they are.

Right after my visit in Marikina, I immediately called my mom and asked her if she was able to keep my first shoes when I was a toddler. I just like the idea of donating it to the Shoe Museum. If lucky enough, I would also like to acquire a spot there and I want my shoes to be placed beside late Pres. Ramon Magsaysay’s shoes. Now, this is what I call fantasy. 

I will Climb Mt. Pinatubo for a Cause

The unusual and constant pouring of ashes and dust filling the entire atmosphere was a thing to rejoice for an innocent child who loved playing with his peers. The gloomy cloud that covered the sun and enveloped the whole surrounding was a scenario to observe for a child beginning to be cautious of the things around him.

While running back and forth on the street along his abode, the child’s father rushed to him, grabbed him, and immediately brought him home. Unaware of what was happening before his guiltless eyes, he curiously mumbled, “What is happening?” Nobody seemed to know the answer. After several hours, his whole family and his relatives gathered to his grandparents’ house. They loaded the balcony with sorrow, tears, pain, and prayers as the most vivid of all.

The child continued to wonder what was going on until the angry skies cried almost unceasingly; the thunder and lightning turned wilder than wildest followed by an unimaginable potent quake — force majeure appeared to be competing which of them was the strongest.  Subsequently, the child’s house (just beside his grandparents’) collapsed. Good thing before it happened, they were already out to feed his brother’s hungry stomach.

The next morning, the child started waiting for the sun but it was dark all day. He was then informed by his father that Mt. Pinatubo erupted and it would take a long time before the sun spreads its horizons again. Unaware of the damage brought by the eruption, the next thing he knew, he was walking barefooted with his family to a place where they would all be safe — a place away from home.

It was midday of June almost 20 years ago when I beheld the ire of Mother Nature. From then, at the age of four, I developed hatred toward Mt. Pinatubo. However, today is a different story; this hatred mutated into desire of reaching its crater for the reason of discovering how the fuming volcano two decades ago became the most sought-after destination of hikers in the Philippines. Joining the “Akyat Pinatubo Bloggers” Climb for a Cause would not only satiate my lust for adventure-filled life, but also allow me to give aid to Tahanang Walang Hagdanan. And most importantly, it will fulfill one of my dreams: to have a face-to-face with Mt. Pinatubo.

Mt. Pinatubo Crater (Photo from Candice Cerezo)

On June 4, 2011, I will climb Mt. Pinatubo sponsored by:

• SM
• Jollibee
• Havaianas
• Unilab
• Travel Factor
• Solid Hosting
• Blogger Manila

Media partners include:

Nufffnang Philippines, ChurpChurp Philippines, and Orange Magazine TV.

Package Rate

* Guest Participants  P2,300 per person (the event is practically open to everyone at industry rate)
* Blogger Participants P1,800 per person
** Blogger Participants are defined as bloggers who created a blogpost about the event, links to this post, and mentions the sponsors indicated above anytime from May 10 to May 18, 2011.
** P300 of the P1,800 paid by the bloggers go to Tahanang Walang Hagdanan, the beneficiary.

Package Inclusions for All

* Roundtrip Private Van/Bus Transfers
* 4×4 Vehicle to hiking trail (optional skyway)
* Local Guide
* Optional Skyway toll fee
* Conservation Fee
* Usage of Shower Area at Pinatubo Spa Town
* Sidetrip to Capas Shrine
* Pre-Event Briefing on May 25 (venue to be announced)

Additional Package Inclusions for Bloggers

* Jollibee Breakfast
* Jollibee Merienda
* Travel Factor Event Shirt
* Raffle at Pre-Event Briefing on May 25

Itinerary

Akyat Mt. Pinatubo Day Tour
June 4, 2011, Saturday
Tarlac, Philippines

Day Tour

03:00a – Assembly at Panay Avenue, Quezon Avenue MRT
03:30a – Departure to Capas, Tarlac
06:30a – ETA Tourism Office
07:00a – 4 x 4 ride to jump off point
07:30a – Start of 2-hour trek (can be shorter depending on the speed of participants)
10:00a – ETA crater; free-time, swim, explore
11:30a – Lunch break
01:00p – ETD to jump off point (2-hr trek)
03:00p – ETA jump off point; 4 x 4 ride back to Tourism Office
03:30p – ETA Tourism Office; wash-up
04:30p – ETD to Capas Shrine
05:00p – Side trip to Capas Shrine (if time permits)
05:30p – ETD to Manila.
* arrival time in manila may vary, but the ETA would be 9:00pm

For more information and if you’re interested to join, please refer to this site: http://www.letsgosago.net/2011/05/akyat-pinatubo/

Reclaim the Grandeur of Hinulugang Taktak

If I were only speaking before the people of the community, that day would have turned me into a furious politician ranting at my constituents, commanding them to execute an all-out effort to put back the glory of the contaminated falls, or worst, I could have vehemently ordered law violators to be placed behind bars. If it was an election season and I was attending a campaign rally, I could have promised the locals that I would reclaim the lost wonder of the community and convinced them that I am the answer to their seemingly endless misery. If I were invited to be a guest speaker or just an ordinary citizen speaking before the crowd, that day would have made me the best or otherwise; some could have praised or abhorred me after a long speech emanated from rage and lamentation.

There were only two resounding words running in my mind when I finally faced Hinulugang Taktak—Disappointment and Hope.

I had read a lot of not-so-good reviews about Hinulugang Taktak, I even watched an interview of a local on a major TV station narrating how it transformed into a huge drainage area, but that was years ago. Prior to my visit, I was thinking that maybe the local government, Department of Environment and Natural Resources (DENR), Department of Tourism (DOT), and the residents had done a long way to bring back the glory of the waterfalls. Yet, I was taken aback when the truth slapped me hard that it is dying.

Pathway to the waterfalls

I started the day with a mantra of not leaving Antipolo without visiting Hinulugang Taktak. It only entailed 5-10 minutes from Antipolo cathedral to reach this famous attraction in the city.

The rummaging sounds of the waterfalls could be heard at the entrance of the park. It seemed to entice me to come nearer so I rushed inside and asked one of the guards if I could take a dip in the falls. She looked surprised with my question before she gave her skeptical nod. Not minding her expressions, I giggly jumped on the park’s cemented stairs down. Truly, it was a beautiful view from afar.

Hinulugang Taktak. See the falls’ catch basin? No. It’s not water, but bubbles of detergent soap

Laundry waste

How would you feel if you want to hug someone who is in dire need of comfort but you just can’t because he/she pushes you away? This was how I felt upon seeing Hinulugang Taktak for the first time. Given that it was my first time see it, the waterfalls wanted me away in an instant due to its strong and unpleasant smell.

The waters flowing from the cliff would shift into a massive formation of bubbles at the basin which brought me to realization that inhabitants around the river have turned it into a giant laundry area. And this was just an addition to the garbage heaping at the right part of the basin facing the falls.

I moved towards the direction where the water flows and the horrendous situation of Hinulugang Taktak smashed me more — from crystal white waters it transforms into a murky odorous mire. I couldn’t contain what I just saw making my knees weak when I walked to the other side of the park.

Murky waters from the falls

Public pool

Picnic area

(Important note: I had a conversation with Juan when I was here. Juan is not the real name of the person. It doesn’t also give a hint about his gender. This post could be misinterpreted by narrow-minded individuals so I’m saving the person from their punitive and condemnatory comments. And please do not create a room for misunderstanding and hyperbole on this post.)

I then went back to Juan and asked him about the situation of Taktak. According to him, it was totally different before (exactly the same testimony of people living in Antipolo). He said that it started to show off unpleasant smell in 2006, and from then its condition got worse until waste from detergent soap became evident. “Unti-unti itong  bumaho at dumami nang dumami ang bula habang lumilipas ang taon,”  Juan sadly recalled while blaming the informal settlers living beside the river and those who didn’t show care for it. He also couldn’t hide his disappointment to some local government leaders who only watched Taktak perish.

Our small conversation went well and I thanked him for being very accommodating. Before it ended, Juan added that a meeting of all concerned barangays in the area was held recently to make collaborative efforts in saving Taktak. It somehow made the weight I was carrying a little lighter while hoping to see development in the area on my next visit.

Seeing a dying wonder broke me into pieces. One thing I always aspire for each time I take paces on familiar and unfamiliar tracks is to see nature’s affluence at its best shape. However, I came to accept that this world doesn’t only exude good things. I also learned to admit that there are places that wouldn’t meet my expectations because some are either overrated, cloned in pictures, or plainly descent to not-my-taste lists.

This recent jaunt to Hinulugang Taktak was a revelation to our gradually devastating environment due to people’s lack of discipline. If we didn’t encourage a community of concerned individuals to save it, we would see day by day that before’s beauty is now’s ugly truth. We all shall do out part in taking care of what’s left for us to enjoy. And preserving this abundant world doesn’t need too much lecturing, in only needs little actions for us to start something big. We know where to start. So We Must Act Now!

Near View of Antipolo

Next to December, May is my second hectic month. It’s the month where a lot of important occasions I used to attend fall—birthdays, family reunions, festivals, Mother’s day, get together with friends and out of town trips. Declining four invitations on the first week of May in pursuit of my plans somehow left me with a heavy heart. Not that I decided to pursue personal goals but because I somehow made people feel sad of my choices. However, some of my friends made me envious as well while I check on their pictures during a celebration recently held at my Alma Mater which would have made me nostalgic only if I preferred to join them. Truth is, I did not go somewhere far. I was only in Antipolo.

I boarded a jeepney going to Divisoria at 5:30 in the morning, got off at Monumento, rode LRT-1, alighted at Doroteo Jose station, walked for about 10 minutes, rode LRT-2 going to Santolan, from the last station I took a jeepney to Antipolo, Simbahan. At exactly 6:50 I was already walking on a busy street going to Our Lady of Peace and Good Voyage Shrine.

Merchants and bystanders were alternately going with and against the rhythm of church goers. I joined them too. And no matter how hard I tried, I wasn’t able to escape the crowd. With the dynamic life around, as I drew nearer the cathedral’s vicinity, I couldn’t help but think that this place is very parallel to Quiapo in a lot of ways except for two things: first, it’s perched on a higher ground that veers someone away from a polluted environment; second, it feels safer here.

I’m sure she will make you smile

These ladies welcomed me with their comical auras

These lovely ladies made my morning and printed smile on my face when on earth they enter my mind throughout my entire stay in Antipolo. I was taking photos of a store beside them when the lady at the far left shouted at me, “Pogi, kunan mo naman ako dito.” And I couldn’t say no with the magic word she just mentioned referring at me, so I turned my head immediately and granted her request. I was even surprised with her amusing poses.

After several shots, she encouraged her peers to join her.  Look what I’ve got, a masterpiece of aged but unblemished beauties mimicking comical postures of my generation. Mind you, I was hesitant to call them Lola at first thinking that they didn’t want to hear any branding that would reveal their ages. When I called the lady at the far right lola, she promptly insisted not to call her that way. So I courteously asked, “Ano po ang gusto nyong itawag ko sa inyo? (How would you like me to call you?)” “Tita nalang,” she said. Then all of them laughed vigorously while telling me to have their pictures publicized. (I hope they know how to blog and use the internet too for them to see this.)

Our Lady of Peace and Good Voyage Shrine

Cathedral’s Altar

When I reached the church’s purlieu, I learned that a mass would be held at 7am. One thing that was very obvious at the church’s facade was a tarpaulin draped above the cathedral’s door. The Catholic church’s position on RH Bill was screaming before anyone’s eyes.

The Catholic Bishop Conference of the Philippines (CBCP) clamors for massive support of all catholic devotees and non-devotees alike to exterminate the bill ever since it reached the Congress. Being a staunch supporter of RH Bill and a pro-life at the same time, I wouldn’t be swayed by lectures and harangues offered by any officials of the Catholic church. Moreover, I would prefer not to discuss my stance with someone whose mind is closed or narrow that could bar even the most fluid and acceptable reasons I would deliver.

I learned to respect the opposition of the Catholic church, even if it sometimes draws me to annoyance whenever the issue is being brought up during sermons. In a country where democracy reigns, everybody has its place where, when and how he would fight for his advocacies. However, it should be bounded under the rule of law. So when priests use the sermons and seminars to encourage believers to join their stand, I let them do it—it’s their avenue to fight for what they believe in. But I cried foul when I heard of the news just recently that two priests from Baguio and Dagupan forced RH Bill supporters to get out of the church. In case it was said before me, I didn’t know how I would react. But one thing is for sure, I wouldn’t do the same as what Carlos Celdran did when he portrayed Damaso in a mass held at Manila Cathedral last year.

Tempting lechon

Suman

Different flavors of cashew

I had a glimpse of the town’s other side outside Antipolo Cathedral. Like other towns and cities in the country, Antipolo has also delicacies and products where locals are proud of. Two of them are suman (rice cake steamed in coconut or banana leaves) and kasoy (cashew seed). These products are very visible in front of the churches, markets, and in areas where people usually go.

Cafeteria

I started looking for a place to eat to please my churning stomach at 7:30am. I wanted to try something native in the place, new, and palatable. The environment gave me a feisty delight as I searched for food in different stalls located at the right side of the cathedral. There were two food booths selling lechon in various servings. Having lechon for breakfast was very inviting but they only give take-out orders. I immediately let go of my cravings and proceeded to cafeteria.

Warning: before I reached the cafeteria area, I had to brave stores of sweet products piled up on the pavement. Sellers were very aggressive to the point that they mobbed me in cluster (Imagine yourself being surrounded by four merchants forcefully convincing you to buy their goods). I easily got annoyed because I felt being bullied by some of them. I pushed myself away from the place and ended taking breakfast at Jollibee.

Via Dolorosa

Entrance to the sacred place

Ten minutes following my breakfast, I traversed the road going to Via Dolorosa after being informed by a tricycle driver that it’s one of the tourist destinations in Antipolo. Since I had the whole morning for myself, I went off to see it. Via Dolorosa showcases the reenactment of the 14 Stations of the Cross. It is a very sacred and quiet place that would certainly fit for anyone searching for inner contentment. Its seclusion along with the panoramic view of the whole Metro Manila makes up its entirety.

Although my Via Dolorosa visit was worthwhile, I still capped my Saturday morning lamenting on what I had witnessed in Antipolo… (see my next post)

Visita Iglesia: When the Force kept me Guarded

Do you believe in unknown forces that seem to intervene with your will, plan, and desire in a given situation? Have you found yourself at one point repeatedly uttering the “what has brought me here” and “someone wanted me to be here or to be somewhere” phrases? I’m not just pertaining to force majeure or act of God or greater force which we denote to nature’s wrath and exceptional occurrence alike. More than that, by unknown forces I mean premonition, inner conscience, and heeded voices that haunt and push us to alter our desires to something they (external forces) want. These forces are the things we can’t explain and even comprehend but we end up following them because we think it is the right thing to do and it feels right to do so.

Most of us, especially Christians, believe that sometimes God and our departed loved ones intrude in our lives to lead us to a path we didn’t foresee we would take or perhaps would influence us in making decision.  I am not a believer of outside forces or whoever-you-are-in-the-world in spirit or in flesh commanding me over something because I live in a world where, for me, “free will” is superior. But just last month, I believe that I was hauled by a certain force to accomplish things beyond my plans. And I was sure that the force came from Him.

Having a travel plot months before the Holy Week was something I joyfully looked forward when I started marking my calendar before the final day. However, as I counted the days, things weren’t going the way I intended it. I had to cancel my Vigan and Pagudpud trips because my friends blew off our original plan. This had prompted me to travel alone. Also, I haven’t tried traveling solo, so it was a good opportunity for me to do such.

Reading blogs about Pangasinan enticed me to beach-hop in the province. Drawing fervor from it, I started to arrange new travel itinerary. I bought map and prepared stuff that I would need while I joined vacationers taking time of the long weekend to be with their families.

Holy Week has always been the time for our family to get together. My relatives from Manila and other parts of Luzon usually go to Zambales during this season. The moment my mom knew about my plans to travel to Pangasinan just by myself, she immediately asked me to go home first before embarking on my journey. At first, I was tenacious in saying NO. But when my mom begged and when I heard my dog barked over the phone (which I knew one of mom’s ways to convince me) I retracted my first  answer. Besides, it’s easy to cross Pangasinan from Zambales.

New plan: 1 day in Zambales, 2 days in Pangasinan. Three days will be spent for beach and island hopping.

When I was packing my things a day before Maundy Thursday, I felt that there was an inner voice bugging me. I didn’t know who and why. To put it simply, I wasn’t at ease. I thought it was just one of the apprehensions of a sole traveler. I took a second look at my itinerary and everything seemed okay. I’ve been traveling few months before Holy Week but I haven’t been that disturbed. And what was more troubling was the growing uneasiness inside. It was really different. (I know some point in your life you also experience that there’s wrong about something but you cannot decipher what and why).

I was beginning to ask myself: should I continue? The thought ignited more discomfort since I didn’t want to ruin my whole plan. I immediately scrapped the idea, left packing and opened Facebook and Twitter. Upon reading Facebook statuses and Twitter updates about Visita Iglesia and the mere thought of including the same activity in my itinerary pacified the apprehension I had moments ago. After checking my travel plan again, I realized that I didn’t include a church visit on Season of Lent. It was supposed to be His time but I was there very ecstatic fulfilling my personal quests without even giving time for Him. Right then and there I recognized who it was tapping me—it was Him. And it signaled a more rewarding vacation with Visita Iglesia as my priority on Maundy Thursday.

Visita Iglesia is another term for Church Visit. This tradition started in Rome during ancient times. Early Christians visit 7 churches which they believe an act of repentance. But in the Philippines, Filipinos do not only visit 7 churches, some visit as much as 14 churches, in consonance with the 14 Stations of the Cross.

I visited all the Parish Churches of each town of Zambales. Coincidentally, Zambales has 14 towns. So I completed the 14 Stations of the Cross without any intention of following the tradition of devout Catholic believers.

Pictures below are the churches of each town

St. Joseph reminds me of my brother because my brother was named after him.

St. Nicholas church is the closest to my heart not only because it’s situated in my hometown but more than that, it also honed my character as a Christian through words and actions. I studied at St. Nicholas Academy for three years during my secondary years. Apart from sharpening my knowledge, the institution also taught me to be morally upright and live with the value of Christianity.

The situation of this church saddened me. Some of the locals have built flea market just in front of it making the church unnoticeable. Some even attached ropes of their stores to the fence of the church. I hope next time people would clear the area to show respect to His home.

This is my favorite among the 14 churches I visited. Its remoteness coupled with its (small) size makes the place very solemn.