Sunday, May 27, 2012

Fuga Island's Treasure Tales


They got 3 gold bars here.



They got this rock out of this hill and claim that they got the gold bars hidden in this rock.
When some other folks learned about this, people went to the hills and dug to the ground. Not small-time digging, but I mean, big time. No one knew if they got what they were looking for. So don’t ask me. I don’t know too. Was there oil here? I don’t know too.

I heard that there were some century-old jars here kept by the Japanese soldiers. Remember that I mentioned in my other post that there is a cave or a tunnel, where I rode that horse freely? This is where most of the jars where found. And I was even stepping on broken jars while I was appreciating the gorges. The jars were made of… oh I really do not know. But I know someone who owns one of the jars. I think so.



I just saw some rocks scattered all over. A result of the digging.


Fuga Island: Islet of Mabag



Everdearest SBL   , Sir.

Yes I heard that you own the islet. Wow! I got so curious, that even if they were warning me, I insisted on going.

I rented a boat from the main island. So that I can land my feet on its sands. Maybe my charm worked. So I was able to get in, somehow.

Get in? Oh no! If you read this, am sure it will be a surprise for you. A great surprise! I respect you highly. I was just sight-seeing. J Trying to see the view and the vastness of the sea from your island, from your veranda. I just sat down on the bench from the entrance. I was really shy to get in. I asked the man if I can still go inside, he said yes. Yehey! Yoohoo!

So I went inside your garden. There was a transistor radio, and the music made the ambiance lovelier. I sat there. And watched the sea and the other islet, Barit. What a relaxing way to spend your vacation here. You already! (Ikaw na!) Haha. You are so blessed to have inherited this from your hardworking parents. Oh I really don’t know. I am just assuming you did. As they said, this was owned by your father. I use to hear his name blurted out by my father when I was a young innocent kid. Because my father grew up in Claveria, he somehow knows the prominent names. My mother told me that my aunt used to go to Mabag, as she was friends with… Oh sorry I did not get much of the details. I can ask somebody I know, but I didn’t have the guts to.



Saturday, May 26, 2012

Fuga Island's Church Ruins

I had to climb a steep cemented staircase to see this majestic church ruins.




It was noon time. The heat of the sun was penetrating my skin. But this architecture on top of the hill is enchanting!

Friday, May 25, 2012

Fuga Island: Spreading Happiness


These are the times when I have difficulty writing. As I am overpowered by humility, concern, and care. I should have brought much more. That would have brought more smiles, from the young and the old. But my much is not even enough. With the purity of heart and sincerity of spirit, I sailed thru the waves, with the entire valor to conquer my fear of the sea.


I did not know how to start it. I was helped by the family I knew to give. In return, I got guitar playing, singing of Ilocano songs, I did not even understand, but sounded so lovely. All for a cute stuffed toy, toothbrush or for a lunch kit.  We had to raffle it off since I did not so much to give. 

Monday, May 21, 2012

A Traveler Falls In Love


Her eyes twinkle like the stars in the night sky. Her face shines like the sun at break of day.  Her smile is like the crescent moon that illuminates with its silver lining.

She wakes up with her heart full of worship, always thrilled to hail the morning sun. She stirs in bliss. She listens to music that makes her senses more awakened and sings in harmony, with a voice so sweet, so earnest; the lyrics of the songs repeatedly, with glee.

She fills her backpack with colourful clothes, reflecting jubilee. Even her socks are like the rainbow, fun and bright.

When she is ready to go for another trip, she wears all her pink garments, head to toe, and lifts her 30liter pack with ease. She walks like fresh air, stunningly radiates an aura of charm and magic.



Friday, May 18, 2012

Fuga Island: The Unfathomable Sitio Mudok



Excitement has filled me two months ago when I checked the Philippine Map and learn Geography. So, that is Fuga Island. And I heard that boats come from Claveria. That will be simple and easy.

It was not easy at all. That time when I wanted to go, no boats would sail. I wondered. The sky was clear, the sun had been up for days. People I ask, ask me back – “what will you do there?” “who are you?” “who do you know?” “ where do you live?” “where is your house?” "who are your parents?" "what is your surname?"  Yes, interrogated. I have only been asked the question “why I travel solo” most of the time. This time, it was an interview.

I was brought to Sitio Mudok, as it is where the people I am supposed to “know” live. Good thing that some old folks recognize the names I mentioned, as the people I know. Dropped names like a bomb, so that I do not get questioned of my purpose. I wanted to do that thing I love most, give.

The boat men would immediately see dollars when they see someone like me, who they think is not really from this area. I had to try my best to speak the dialect and be credible enough to prove that I live here. Not good enough. I even had to mention names of family friends who are prominent. And how about that name that happened to be mentioned by my father when I was younger? Who happens to be the owner of the island?  I do not know. And should I mention that my aunt had been there, as they are friends with people who own it? Oh I must be wrong. But I am sure of that. I am not bragging. I simply want to go and give. They do not trust me, I surmised.

However, the old ladies believed that I knew those people who live in Fuga Island. So I felt secured. Secured that they will tell me where to find these people. The boatmen just left me on the shores of Mudok. I am fortunate that the old ladies happened to be related to the people I am supposed to know.




Sunday, May 13, 2012

Dear God: Can I Have This Chance Everyday?



Dear God,

I have always believed that it is no accident when you let people cross each other’s paths. It is a set up. And it is always good. 

When you let him cross mine, I was amazed. And I kept wondering why. Until now, I do. And I know that I will only recognize what you have been plotting on later. Or maybe never?  And I really discern that I have to bring together all the wisdom in this world to even surmise. Or not even enough.

You filled my work hours with a lot of his giggling passionate remarks. I had to peek into that other window in my work laptop just to get a possibility to reply to him. Because I know that it was more worth it. 

You filled my sleepless nights with his intriguing queries that I just had to stare at the words that emerge as he chat me. That later I had to give in and tell the truth. It was truly strange when he had to like most of my face photos. Nobody has ever done that.

You let us get so close that I could not even resist his invites. You let me trust his purest intentions. At a grown-up age, who would think that this was a joke?

You had to make him so nice and thoughtful and sweet and irresistible and lovable. Who would think that he would make you fall into a pit?

There were moments that I waited for you to let him keep in touch. I patiently waited. And it would always be a surprise when he does pop up to greet me “hello.” You bring smile to my face because I knew that it will be a never ending typing. And smiling. And giggling. And a lot of “lol”.

You let me eat ice cream with him in a cold evening. You granted me a possibility to talk to him endlessly. Laugh. Listen to the music that we both like. Discuss people’s behaviours that we don’t like. And talk about someone else’s life, someone we both love.

You let me see him. Meet him. Kiss him. Hug him.

You had to surprise me. That it never ever made me think so seriously. And it did not sink in my mind. And when it all dawned on me, you had to make me believe. That it is true. And accepting it is hard. Is it even true?

You let me soak in this sadness. Diminish my joy. I was submerged in a ruined state. And I cannot do anything about whatever you are planning to do.

So, can I just wish now?

Can I wish for more time? So that we can just talk side by side about sweet nothings until we doze off snoring?

Can you give more time so we can have a movie time together of a really cheesy love story? or listen to music that we both like? or talk nonsense and hate all the people we don't like?

Can you give me more time so that we can laugh until we cry? Talk until we lost our voices?

Can you let me travel along with him? That while some of his friends do their business, the two of us can enjoy and have fun together and make it last?

Can I wish to have this chance every day? And forever?

You let me bring back life and rejoice in my heart. Only you can do that. And only you can take it away. And get it back.

If you do, can you just create him to become little stars? Make him a face of heaven? That the entire world will be in love with the night?

Can you create him to become butterflies to fill a garden of flowers?



Tuesday, May 8, 2012

Fuga Island: Fantastically Fabulous


She spent her growing up years exploring all the corners of this island.





She would be the best picker of little octopuses along the shore. She would also use a fishing rod for her and grandparents meal for lunch.

She dived into the pristine waters. And enjoyed swimming with the fishes of this rich resource.


posting this to show the beautiful fishes under the sea of Fuga Island
(i asked the fisherman to give me this so that I can throw it back in the waters. but it was too late)