Surfing in Lanuza, Surigao

This was the First Lanuza Longboard Invitational Surfing Competition in 2005.  And while the pros showed there skills with the gigantic waves, I tried to practice with baby waves on the wayside using an antiquated surf board with an abaca rope leash!  What a shame!  But nothing else was available and I wanted to learn.  As we were walking by the boulevard towards the practice area, I felt the surfers’ eyes fixed on the bulky yellow board I was carrying!  And if stares were laser beams, the antique board would have been riddled with holes!

We scaled down the steps of the concrete embankment and looked towards an island separated by a body of water 500 meters across.  We have to cross this channel by lying prone on the board and paddle with our hands.  In this passage, water steadily flows seaward at low tide which makes for easy crossing….but at high tide, seawater pushes back into the passage creating turbulence as opposing waves crash in the middle….

When we made the crossing, it was high tide!  So, imagine Three surfer wannabees paddling against wayward currents! I paddled, then eased up as the waves threaten to crash.  Then the waves crashed and I get submerged, and get tossed again.  Then I inhaled just in time for another crashing wave crash on me.  Read again 100 times and you get an idea of how wonderful that crossing was!  And Did I swallow water?  Let’s just say I let water come inside my mouth….But we made it across the island, after almost like an eternity!

I tied the rope leash to my ankle and started surfing, but then again, I should have done that already while negotiating that channel.  How stupid!  Anyways, I didn’t go far where the big waves were breaking, I just tried to catch the small ones, body prone on the surfboard.  And after hours of trial and error, I finally caught the waves that shot me shoreward, like a bullet whizzing until the single fin cut through fine sand.  Somehow I felt the adrenaline rush and the fulfilled feeling of having ridden the waves.  I only stopped when I felt the tingling raw wound in my ankle as the abaca rope leash cut through skin!

River Trek

I climb mountains and this was my first time to river trek.  We were about 10 trekkers in a town in Leyte, a rugged province east of Cebu.  By ship overnight, we reached Baybay known for VESCA, a university that specializes on agricultural studies.  Unbeknownst to outsiders, this is also a place of virgin rivers and mineral water gushing out of natural springs.  Majestic mountain peaks, lush forest, and invigorating waterfalls make you want to forget going back to the city.

It was summertime and the heat was intense.  After breakfast, we started walking towards the forest. And once inside, the air turned pleasantly cold as sunrays were filtered by thick forest cover.  The old wooden bridge creaked as we passed by a stream.  Within a few minutes, we heard the unmistakable murmur of a river.  Then we emerged from the trees and shrubbery, and gazed at the soothing Image of a clean and flowing river.  The rocks were green with moss, and the rock base along the river gushed with springs amidst broad leafed ferns and endemic flora.

We followed a trail leading to the forest again as the sun come piercing through thick foliage.  We crisscrossed the river through these trails, and intermittently cool ourselves with river dips.  At trail’s end, we rested at the foot of a canyon creating a long strip of valley.  At its base by the gorge is a thundering waterfall creating mist rising up to the high trees of lush forest.  A huge black rock stands amidst the broiling pool.  With this rock as a platform, we took turns plunging below for daredevil stunts!

Time whizzed by and back we go following another trail.  We passed by windy ridges overlooking tree covered valleys.  Canyons and deep gorges dominate the landscape.  We descended in a depression, then a clearing and up we go again.  A mammoth log barricaded the trail.  It was a branch that cracked loose from its gargantuan great-grandfather-century-old-tree!

Then the rains came, turning the trails into a series of maddening mud pools.  One slide from me was arrested by a quick hand stand, but A butt bumping fall was a hard call!  There was a stretch of downhill climb where I have to crawl inch by inch with my hands and butt….And the light was fading, but it was still a long way to go.  Then a trekker’s shoes’ soles surrendered, and so did he who seriously intends to bivouacked in the forest.  But we seriously meant to stay together no matter what.  Majority ruled eventually, and he finally agreed to continue walking until we reached town in the middle of the night!  Ah, what a day!

We fell exhausted on the ground while releasing our backs with the weight of our backpacks.  I removed my shoes and massaged my feet while listening to another fun time exchanging talks about the trek.  Times like these are always pleasant and funny, especially with strong local wine and Hot Native Chicken Stew!!!

Subway Tragic Comedy

For my second adventure around Seoul, I decided to visit the Olympic park somewhere in the western part of south of Central Seoul just across the Han river. I have to change subway lines to get there. The next target site is two subway stops away - to Seoul Sports Center, where the main Olympic stadium is located. But instead of catching a ride to the Center, I decided to have a leisurely walk towards Lotte World (or so I thought) located close to the next station where two subway lines intersect, one of which should take me to my second destination.

I went down the subway to find my line, but couldn’t! I realized much later that my walk leisurely heads me west instead of east; so what I thought of as the station one stop away from my destination is actually two stops further more from my target!  After much deliberation, I finally found my subway line, and congratulated myself for finding it. But the confusion does not end yet; the bus was moving in the direction opposite to where I was supposed to be heading!!!

Homesick At Immigation Queue

The Seoul trip was my first outside the Philippines.  I was the only non-Korean passenger in the plane. The Filipina stewardesses were reminders to all that’s familiar and my only link back home. At Incheon airport, I fell in line for immigration.  It was beautiful and modern and huge, and full of passengers from all over the world, speaking in different languages.

I scanned the airport not to admire its beauty or sophistication but to look for another Filipino. I saw white skinned, black skinned, dark skinned, yellow skinned and probably purple skinned people, but not a single brown skinned soul. I was homesick! I never felt such intense longing and love and connection to my country and family than that moment.

I realized that there is no other country for me more beautiful than the Philippines, and that there are no other people better for me than the Filipinos. And that wherever I go, I will always look to the direction where my heart belongs – HOME!

POSTSCRIPT: Seoul is fascinating and vibrant. Three weeks is not enough. I would have wanted to stay longer, be with all TFT participants more, and more chopsticks practice. Ironically, I felt like not going back home!