Calanasan, Apayao: Sta. Filomena, Revealed Secret

it is a rainy day.

i waited for the gray clouds to be swept by the wind. no wind.

all geared up to trek, i went to the market area. not much people in the street. unusual. since it had been cold. the people might still be tucked in their thick blankets.

it is november. this month is usually visited by rains and cold winds.
this is when you see people in their sweaters, bonnets, gloves, winter clothes in this upper part of the north.

i was looking for a tricycle driver i seem to know. there was only one. there were people seated on the bench. so i asked if there were anyone else who are bound to my next destination. none of them.

so i rode the tricycle. i stopped over to see this.
in mind: when i come back from where i am going, i will explore this river. name: Cabicungan River
in mind: where is this river coming from? crazy mind? well, i just wanted to know.

excited: mygosh, i will explore a familiar place, with a "backpacker" mindset. ho-hah! am smiling writing this. am grinning. my cousins will never understand. my aunts & uncles probably would.

so here i come.

yes. i am going to apayao. calanasan, apayao. thru claveria, cagayan valley. again, again, again? :) yes you read that right!



i passed by barrios of claveria. pinas, alimoan, kapanikian, tabbugan, and others. it is a smooth, sometimes bumpy, rocky road.

my thoughts are filled with childhood nostalgia. that only that memory-part of my brain can remember.

i remember that i biked these roads, not told my parents or relatives who were our guardians that summer about my plans. my dead dad, if he was alive today, would narrate how i emerged on that part of the road in my bike, hat, and long sleeves.everybody in awe.

i also could not believe it now. via tricycle, it would take 30 minutes. via bicycle, with a 10 year-old girl rider -- i cannot remember how long it took me. but i only recall the waving hands of the farmers in the many ricefields i passed by. and how i enjoyed that ride with a borrowed bicycle. yes, it was not "my" bike, after all. :)

welcome sta. filomena.

i trekked this road filled with grass and no road at all when i was 10. now it has a road, and a welcome arch.
before, we had to do rivering. it would be most enjoyable for me then as the only river that i know and only see is the then dirty pasig river; (i think it is cleaner now), having been born & grown in a city.

this river is "sarsarakat." and at the end of the river, a "pasagad" and a carabao is waiting for us. there was a time there was a hanging bridge.

no i did not live here. but one summer in my childhood, i realized, i had been surrounded with kindness, simplicity, adventure, and exploration. here is where i tasted coffee from my lola's frontyard grown coffee beans. i would pick cacao from the tree. big fresh water shrimps and fish would be given to us. and the most exotic of them all, i would request for frog as my dinner.

there would be another river. and we would stop by. and bathe. i did not like being in water, as a child.
so i just stayed under the tree and watched my siblings. this river is "ludong".

ludong memories are about casting away from my guardians, going far and tagging along with some young uncles. we fished. and since we went far away from the houses, and did not have food, they taught me how to eat "buos" - the big ants that climb in the calamansi tree. that surely bit my lips. but they "fooled" me and i ended up eating the ants. we all ate the ants. then picked some calamansi and ate them like eating oranges.and since i was the only princess, i had the privilege - and was the one who rode the carabao. that was "strolling", i think. strolling the rivers and mountains.

there used to be no river here, i think. it used to be near the mountain, not in the middle of the road and the ricefields. now there is a big bridge. no blue skies, no bright sunny day. just the mountains, the river, and me. and the tricycle driver and his tricycle.

it has been a long time since i did not come here. not much change, really. that is why i love this place. it is so preserved. that is what i think.

it was still rainy. so i had to imagine that i was trekking. long ago, i would persuade my younger cousins, we would just walk and walk and walk, till we reach the second falls in "bimaribar". and see some aetas. we would pass by the "camarin". and a lot of rivers.

now, finally i can see the end of the Cabicungan river. i think there is "more end" part than here.

the resort that was built there is awed by the residents. i don't. sorry. so i am not posting the photo here.

i love the plain, mountain-ous scenery. i can't recall  how everything looked like before. but it was beautiful. they are all in this part of my brain, indescribable, preserved. i did not choose to forget.

in my mind: at a very young age, i was already an explorer. at heart.
in my mind: now that i have aged, and found the end of the river, how about kayaking from this river to Cabicungan, in the town of Claveria? crazy wonderful idea. :) we will see. :D it is not impossible.


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i dedicate this post to my mother, Gloria.