A sedate Friday morning was disrupted by news on the television. A conversation starter at breakfast. Saudi Arabia’s King Abdullah bin Abdulaziz lost to lung infection. He was 90.
“It’s the first time his face was shown to the public,” a random guy at our table commented.
Weird. Not really convinced about that piece of trivia, I dropped the matter and thought of the tuki (whale sharks) in Oslob. The
tourist guide the other day mentioned that there were 17 male tuki and two females, while two remained undetermined. Animals also have issues all right. It would have been nice to meet those beasts.
“I would never want to be near any of them. Those fishes might break bad and wreak havoc, who knows?” the same random guy ranted when
I asked if the tourists staying in Oslob were going to see the tuki. They didn’t.
The first stop for the final day of the tour was Boljoon, one of the oldest towns in Cebu. Lying some 103 kilometers south of Cebu city, the fifth income class municipality was believed to be a pre-Hispanic settlement of Malay migrants who found a route from Panay to the area. Spanish explorers and Augustinian friars are said to have landed in the 1590s. But none of them good ole Spaniards christened the place. The brochure mentioned that folk tales credited the name Boljoon to the town’s peculiar topographical appearance, “bulho”—a Cebuano description for a large land mass cavity surrounded by mountains or valleys which can cause the sudden collapse of a mountain range.
The promotional tagline nails it. Boljoon is rustic, unspoiled by time. Dubbed as a “postcard town”, Boljoon is home to heritage structures suggesting time travel—the 400-year-old Nuestra Señora Patronicio de Maria Church; the El Grande Baluarte, believed to have been built in 1808 as the main fortress of the church complex’s fortification; and Escuela Catolica, a then dormitory for children in 1940. At the church’s museum, I read that archeologists discovered a disturbed burial site outside, dated between 1529 to 1619. An ancient mass burial of sorts. Creepy.
On the way to Dalaguete, the buses snaked through a long, winding cliff road. Boulders, deep forest and all, the scenario below was too dangerous to absorb.
“The world is full of small, unchangeable annoyances that simply aren’t deserving of all the aggravation they seem to cause in so many,” I focused on Jim Knipfel’s sermon. I was almost done with the book.
We reached Dalaguete at noon, but the place was as chilly as an open fridge on full blast. The little Baguio of Cebu indeed. I even had a jacket, scarf and bonnet on. Situated 85.1 kilometers south of Cebu city, the 16th century-old town was named after a tree which has mushroomed all over the area—dalakit, the Cebuano term for balete tree. So, it’s trees this time, huh? Dalaguete is also famed as the vegetable basket of Cebu. Fresh eggplants, cabbage and other leaves were literally up for grabs. Since we were not to climb Osmeña Peak, the highest among the Mantalongon ranges, some media people and I escaped to the pines zone instead, while a program was commencing. Adarna tagged along, wild and free.
Impromptu
Three young tour guides ushered us to Argao. They delivered their lines graciously, as how elementary pupils should. Good kids. Argao is a 400-year old first income class municipality 68 kilometers southeast from Cebu city. Its name was derived from the “sali-argaw” tree abundant in the place.
See, I told you, we hadn’t reached Argao yet, but history was already being served. The kids were running out of stories. This boy, tour guide, about 12-years-old, took initiative and ad-libbed by singing his own versions of Pusong Bato, All of Me and some jingle that went like, “Wooble wooble.” I bet, he got an extra tip for that DIY medley. Late lunch was at Argao’s Nature Park. There, Adarna was at it again. The hanging bridge above the trees was inviting, and in a jiffy, she was already up there, grinning. Strange, yet interesting girl.
Once in Argao, you can either hit the beach; lounge at the heritage park where the coral-stone-walled hall of justice stands; retreat in San Miguel Arcangel Church; explore The Riverstone Castle; or go caving at Balay sa Agta (House of the Black Ogre). You might encounter Shrek if you’re lucky.
A motorcycle accident clogged traffic on our way to the trip’s end. We stopped by Carcar again for some pasalubongs and a quick visit to the city museum. Finally, we arrived at Talisay, the aqua city of the south. The last supper was graced by nothing less but Talisay’s best, lechon (cholesterol all the way), while the mayor preached about the essence of doing things for the people, like for example, re-opening a plaza that was shut down for 12 years.
Name game
Founded in 1648 as an estate owned by the Augustinians, Talisay was named after the magtalisay tree that flourished in the town.
Other claims explain that it was named after a town in Spain. Trees and Spaniards. Sure. Talisay was converted into a city, third income class, in 2000. It is now linked to Cebu city via the new south coastal highway, which opened in 2004.
I spotted Adarna at the side lawn, laughing with new acquaintances. The entertainment onstage began. Suroy Suroy South 2015 came to a close. I would be dealing with the real world again. Although I was still a bagatelle whose insecurity was beyond cure, I was getting by. After all, the appetite for melancholia is a beautiful phenomenon. The sky lit up with color. (Conclusion)