By Jun A. Alindogan
Although my home province is just an hour or two north of Manila and has a mountainous terrain in its interior location, I grew up in a coastal town in the same province. To my knowledge, these coastal towns include Hagonoy, Calumpit, Paombong, Guiguinto, Balagtas, Bulakan, Bocaue, Marilao, Cities of Malolos and Meycauayan, and Obando where I am originally from. Obando used to be a village in Meycauayan, before becoming another independent town. The only hilly part I am familiar with in the whole province while growing up was a village called Balasing in the town of Sta Maria in my province. This was the site of numerous summer holidays with my cousins as the area was also the residence of my oldest aunt and her family. The land featured a wild mango orchard on a terraced rice farm where we played horseback on a low-lying branch. Down the dry rice paddies was planted an old java plum tree (duhat) full of ripe fruit that we tried to catch with a wooden pole. At the back of the dirty kitchen lined pigpens and not very far from this area was a yard dotted with Spanish plum (sineguelas) that I thought were old and withered with brown and brittle branches that surprisingly could hold a kid of any weight. There were also cacao trees which became a fresh breakfast staple for a hot chocolate drink. The most arduous trek we all had to hurdle was to a waterfall on steep rocks upon decline, between a lush bamboo grove. The place took pride in its clear waters and small nipa huts and tables that became the focus of delectable food and crisp, childish conversations. This spot called “Matsing” (monkey) was also known for leeches that we were all terrified in each swim. We looked forward to this summer every time for many years before another school year opened and leave childhood altogether, and cherish such incidents as a lasting treasure. The reason why Balasing was so attractive was its physical contours that my hometown did not have. My hometown until now borders between fresh rivers and fishponds, and between summer heat and typhoon flood, and high tide and low tide. Since my other siblings have resettled overseas and in the southernmost part of the biggest island in the country, our mutual decision was to sell our ancestral home and land. This also came about because of the perennial flooding that sweep my hometown during the rainy and dry season. The ancestral home gradually got destroyed with tear and wear from the elements, apart from its transport isolation. Thus began my relocation. Separation whether material or spiritual results in pain but being together also causes more pain as presence can lead to various forms of conflicts that are not resolved, neither discussed nor managed nor even acknowledged or accepted.
The relocation began in familiar territories, namely in central Manila and in Quezon City for a good number of years. Central Manila was where my dad used to live prior to his marriage. The house no longer stands today but the shelter I found comfort in its hospitality to me was close to this ancestral home. The other refuge I stayed in, was in a church in Quezon City where I was invited to speak intermittently and sleep over in monsoon season.
My present residence is at the foothills of Montalban, Rizal amidst diminishing hills because of unregulated quarrying. The town is the last municipality in the province of Rizal that borders Bulacan province. Montalban is a host to a number of private and public swimming resorts and raw campsites uphill. I have been to nearly all these resorts for ocular inspection for possible church retreat, youth program, holiday parties, and anniversary. As far as I know, there are only a few resorts upland and just a coffee shop directly facing a denuded hill. It was time to explore other areas in Rizal, mostly a mountainous region with other municipalities near a big lake called Laguna De Bay.
First stop is in San Mateo, which is a town that you pass through to get to Montalban. The farthest I went in this town were in campsites that you had to hike for about half an hour on uneven, rocky, and rough road. The trip is worthwhile as you get a 360-degree scenic view of metropolitan cities; however, the site is pricey for its ordinary food servings and accommodation which is too convenient to pass for a campsite for its amenities. Once I went on an unpaved alley beside a cliff to go to a village viewpoint which had a lone tree that some young people go to rest and play. I was afraid to go higher where the tree is, for I might break my bones and injure myself, considering my age. Another noteworthy place is in a forested campsite owned by the Department of Environment and Natural Resources. The place boasts of a huge Ten Commandments’ tablet in a sprawling land of a butterfly garden, a telescope area on a platform, a swing on a cliff, a hanging bridge, huts, a small café, and a social hall. Not far from this area is another world where the main road is dwarfed by tall pine trees that evoke “Baguio city feels” for its scent and landscape. Downhill on a winding, sandy and unfinished road is a bluish, unadulterated freshwater river named Kasili at the bottom of an old steel bridge that people say is still a part of Montalban.
Next stop is Antipolo city, which is famous for cashew nuts, rice cakes, cliff side restaurants, resorts, and campsites. The most pronounced places I encountered were in two nearly adjacent nature-filled campsites of a free-flowing pool, flower blooms, fruit bearing trees, a small fish pen partially covered with lilies and a hut on a bridge that gives you a surrounding kaleidoscopic mountain lush and the rustling sound of water from river rocks nearby. Moreover, I found one store along the highway that sells various delicacies that I like and later would turn me into a regular customer or “suki” upon descent to Manila. One noticeable lack in other towns I visited are streetlamps on main roads, signifying an economic and political disparity in infrastructure.
The next four stops include Baras, Binangonan, Angono, and Pililla. In Baras, I discovered a hidden gem tucked in a secluded, stony hill to a view of the Sierra Madre Mountain range and an incredible and genuine customer concern for the guests, however, the trip to Binangonan turned unfortunate as the high tide from the lake prevented me from enjoying the public water park.
On a side trip from Binangonan to Angono, I was amazed at a street lined with residential walls that showcased the artistry of its people by its carved and embossed rustic scenery. On a busy highway sidewalk were relegated colorful “higantes” (giants), fully clad in native farmers’ attire. Overall, my experience in Angono was impressive except for an overhyped café selling overpriced tiny cookies and soda cans. The consolation was in a vacation house cum cafe on a pool side with a breathtaking hill and lake backdrop, as if you were on top of the world that no one could intrude plus a reasonably priced good food to enjoy.
The last stop is in Pililla, renowned for its windmills, floating restaurants, and unexpected pineapples. Upon a brief conversation with the park owner, what baffled me in my visit was the unavailability of electricity in a nature park a few blocks away from the windmills. The windmills are a testament to nature’s power and force to create energy and yet remains untapped in a close location. The floating restaurant, on the other hand, invites you to laze over native huts and enjoy seafood, while being enveloped in water trees and a soothing breeze. The pineapple plantations are also a sight to behold.
Part of my itinerary that I am yet to complete are trips to a small island and a trek to an ancient cave graffiti in my adopted province where I have settled for many years.
Overall, a land’s topography oversees control of its people in terms of climate, food, customs and traditions as well as its love or hate relationship with its human and non-human subjects. In the end, land must be showered and sustained with affection so that control becomes mutual and productive.
Bio:
Manuel A. Alindogan, Jr or Jun A. Alindogan is currently Academic Writing and TESOL Professor at the Asian School of Development and Cross-Cultural Studies (ASDECS) and is the founder of Speechsmart Online, a language center specializing in test preparation courses such as IELTS, PTE, and OET. He is also the Academic Director of the Expanded Alternative Learning Education System (ALS) of Empowered East, a Filipino-based NGO. He is a freelance writer.
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