Gone!? Where are the pearls?
Are you still looking for the pearls from Davao? Those that came from the Sulu seas? Those oysters that were shipped to Samal island coming from different places of the country were to be cultivated and let to mature into pink, white, and golden- colored pearls and prepare them for processing after the harvest. Where are they now? And the farms?
After I checked in at Regency Inn Hotel in Davao city, I began my wandering moments walking around the city just to experience the best way to find out the whereabouts of city roads. Without losing the thought of buying pearls as my present when I come back from this trip, I wrote a message on a piece of paper which was actually my plane ticket, “pearls for mama and my sister”.
It was tiring going nowhere. I was like a satellite making an orbit around my hotel until I took notice of a book store a few meters away from where I began feeling, I should piss off. I came in and browsed some post cards displayed unattractively at the shelf. Five pieces were not enough to caught my interest but one. The Pearl Farm beach resort post card had my curiosity bloomed and made my mind beg for inquisitive action. Asking where, what, how had me for positive replies that suited my resources. The attendant was kind enough to tell me the nearest travel agency for a reservation. And the deal was finalized and closed. I would be crossing the sea for Samal island where Pearl Farm is, tomorrow.
The morning has come to sail the South sea. The moment I saw the silhouette of the Pearl Farm, I felt a different kind of feeling. It was like I’m on the clouds making some attack dives at the “Parola”. My excitement was raging and ready to burst out as I step on the wooden planks of the quay. Tourists, including me, were greeted with ice-cold, blood-colored fruit drinks as soon as the lady receptionists approached us with smiling faces puffed with powdered pinkish make-up. Exclusively for corporate tours only, each member was given a locally made necklace for souvenir. What a pity! I should have mixed myself with them just to have that necklace.
After checking my reservation, I was led to my cottage and as we walked, I can’t help but admire the beauty of the resort’s amenities. The myriad of birds flying above head was a welcome treat. I haven’t seen the whole surroundings yet, but I had concluded that it was a perfect setting for lovers.
It’s a bamboo cottage humble enough to be much bigger than an ordinary bamboo house. As I entered, a large bed greeted my eyes.There were orchid flowers strewn all over the spread and linen. And that made me think that this cottage is for newlyweds on a honeymoon bout. The soft bed was much wider than a queen size or matrimonial bed, as I wildly guessed its measurements. There was a large TV set with cable connection, a small ref with chocolates of different kinds, bottles of beer and soft drinks, and a telephone where guests can order food and have it served in bed. It was really amazing as there was a garden at the back where you can relax and inhale the coolness of the humid mountain breeze and the arid light wind of the nearby beach. The safety vault was a surprise to me. Now I could leave my wallet, cellphone, and other important items in it while enjoying this once-in-a-lifetime experience.
The next morning was a bit lazy for me to flex some muscles. I was still heavily laden with dreaminess. At 7 a.m., breakfast was already waiting for me at the Pavilion.
There was a wide array of food to choose from. Set at the long line of tables were, American, Asian, and the native dishes of the region. Although it was an eat-all-you-can package , I still heeded my doctor’s advise back home not to overeat so, I settled for a low-fat, low, salt, low-calorie breakfast. And that meant american bread, a little of light butter, fruit juice and the fruits of the season. I thought that what I have eaten was not worth my regular breakfast back home but, it was healthy anyway.
Without boasting myself, a lady approach my table, and with pride, presented herself as the manager and the heir of the property. Opening up a conversation with me which touched our personal lives and a little of current events was a wonderful chat to end a meal.
The rest of the days were spent swimming at the white sand beach at the nearby island and at the infinity pool. I don’t own a muscled sexy body and, at the same time, I don’t have hairy chest. I am just blessed with a saintly face. As I said before, I’m not boasting but again, a woman approached me by the poolside and made a striking talk with me. I did not even made an eye to eye contact with her nor our sights met somewhere. She made her life open to me while I kept mum about myself. She continued conversing with me while her foreigner husband kept on looking at us while tending their child at the pool. I broke off the conversation as I sensed jealousy was slowly getting the better time of her husband. I went back to my cottage but spent a little while at the outdoor Jacuzzi. Enjoying the bath while several species of birds were flying over head was like taking a bath in a biblical river. What a day !
Meanwhile, trekking was a discovery. My first sight of a white parrot was really an educating task. I only know multi-colored ones and it amazed me to see a different specie of parrots. As I continued my trail, I passed by several women weaving sari cloth while some teens were assembling necklaces and bracelets that were up for grabs. There were also an assemblage of imported pearl products and other similar stuffs for sale at Pearl Farm.
The remaining days was swimming, and swimming all the time.
The hectares of cultured pearls are gone and it really puzzled me. But despite its disappearance, Samal island has still more beautiful places to visit, more interesting things to discover and more smiling and friendly people to be with. The island is still green and thriving with nature’s lives. These are the reasons why this island is called the “Garden City of Samal Island” and it saddened me when the time to say goodbye is at hand. I grieved in silence when the last passenger has taken his seat and the boat’s engine started to grind. I guessed, this was the kind of feeling one had experienced when they left this garden city. Needless to say, I can be counted as one of those whose heart was heavily knotted to this paradisiacal beauty of the place. Samal Island is truly a garden island.
–oOo–
Hidden Stories of Siquijor – (SIQUIJOR, The Mystic Island, Philippines ) by: rhum sellers, thehutownerblog
Land of witchcraft, sorcery, occultism, vodooism, exorcism, etc. are just some of the words that used to describe Siquijor island. True or not, these unfavorable representation of this place makes it more challenging than threatening to pay a visit to this amazing island in Central Visayas.
From Dumaguete City a ferry awaits visitors bound for the island known to most people as a mystic island. Thoughts of morbid stories about witches, sorcerers, people vomiting worms, cockroaches, and lizards, defecations of tree barks nails, and other inexplicable, mysterious and mystifying folklore came into my mind while I was on the ferry.
Disembarking from the ferry was a hodgepodge of emotions as I felt the rush of excitement and apprehension all over me. Believe me or not, a man with eyes so big and bulging as if jumping out of its sockets, walked me out from the premises of the port up to his tricycle and made an arrangement to drive me to a motel or a cheap lodging house where I could stay for the duration of my visit. He was forcing a setup not acceptable to me. Besides, I was scared by his looks. When he took his focus away from me I hurriedly departed and got away in another tricycle and sped off.
Acting like a straggler more than a tourist, we ( my guide/driver and me ) priced hop for a room to stay. Having chosen one near the beachfront for a modest price was a citation well deserved. And the prize…I was always the first human to make a stroll, run, and sight see the beach’s early morning golden sun rise. The first one to play hide and seek with an army of purple crustaceans and the first one to be barked by some unfriendly dogs that strayed along the shoreline for their morning excretion of the day’s accumulation of whatever they have eaten and digested which they considered as food.
Those black sea orchins didn’t have the opportunity to hide themselves from my preying eyes. Owning blue tips on their spines and moving back and fort, they looked like legged Christmas lanterns on parade. I had some speculative thoughts if the orchin population area was considered as a marine sanctuary because not far away was a signboard that says that it is so. Furthermore, it said that fishermen were forbidden to catch fish in the said area and a penalty was imposed on whoever is caught not following the order. This was to revive marine lives which had been depleted due to over fishing.
I had one observation that drew me a conclusive support of my findings that Siquijor’s white sands are finer than that of Boracay, Samal, and Panglao islands. Siquijor’s sands turn to dusts when it dries up. It’s just a little bit coarser than a baby powder but almost feel like milk powder.
Town hopping by motorcycle was an exciting experience. To be immersed into the Spanish style of church building was an architecture worth seeing and feeling the olden churches’ fashion. These aged structures transported me back in time. The churches of Siquijor, Lazi, Larena and Maria were build between the years 1700 – 1850. They were made of limestone rocks and fashioned like garrisons as protection from pirates who attacked the towns. Some have wooden floors, wooden roof supports and rusty roofings that needs immediate rehabilitation.
San Isidro Labrador church. Lazi, Siquijor
San Isidro Labrador Convent, Lazi, Siquijor
Wooden floor of San Isidro Labrador church, Lazi, Siquijor
Interior of San Isidro Labrador church, Lazi, Siquijor
Nuestra Sra. de Providencia, Maria, Siquijor
Interior of of Nuestra Sra. de Providencia church, Maria, Siquijor
St. Francis of Assisi church, Siquijor, Siquijor
Interior of St. Francis of Assisi church, Siquijor, Siquijor
Bell Tower of St. Francis of Assisi church, Siquijor, Siquijor
A two-tiered Cambugahay Falls was a sight worth your effort. Salagdoong, Dondeezco, and Marmarine white sands beach resorts, caves and mangroves will add to your excitement while here in the island. You could dine at Triad restaurant on top of a hill in Larena and view the town proper.
Cambugahay Falls
Salagdoong beach resort
Salagdoong beach resort
Triad Restaurant, Siquijor
Triad Restaurant
Century old Balete tree
Dondeezco beach resort
As the folklore began to creep into my mind, an inclusion of something weird to complete my itinerary and visit was obviously brewing. What if I’ll see a “mangbabarang”. I was thinking that would be fun if I did. So, off we sped for some devillish idea.
My guide told me that he knew someone who does that kind of acts. Passing thru kilometers of rickety paths, downhill and uphill, zigzagging our way to a semi concrete house was something scary as we arrived on the twilight hours of the day. The dark was fast wrapping the golden rays of the setting sun. In a few hours darkness will rule our way back. I was expecting that the place where we were was some kind of witchy, but it was not. Although that was the only house I saw standing on a high ground, there was a piggery nearby with a sow and some piglets that continued to make sounds that further made some palpitation and “heartquake” in me. My guide called her name and she went out just a feet from the door. I was a little bit surprised that she knew my purpose of coming to her place. She called me into the house and straight into her room I slowly tiptoed for a sneak. “Come in”, the voice said. “Don’t be afraid”, the voice continued as my head was already halfway inside the room. I turned my head left and right just to be sure she was there. Really, I was scared. If I heared only her voice and she wasn’t there, I would run outside and together with my guide, we’ll return back. But I saw the Sto. Nino image with unlighted candles so, I was a little bit relieved. She lighted the candles as she instructed me to take my shirt off. “Oh my God”, I said to myself. “She’s going to rape me”, my mind continued scaring me. As soon as I put my shirt on my lap she began to say some prayers and some “oracion” while putting her palm on my head. That might be in Latin language. I didn’t understand a word. Then she asked when was the last time I saw my doctor. “What was his advice?”. Before I could deliver an answer to her inquisitive approach she replied with certainty, saying, “So, it was an artery blockage of the heart”. I was surprisingly perturbed by what she said. It puzzled me no end.
She recommended some heated “buyo” leaves to be patched on the chest for a week and some “calachuchi” flower soak in a glass of water for six hours in an open air overnight. The solution of which should be taken three times a day also for a week. The “calachuchi” solution will expand the veins of the heart while the “buyo” leaves would act as pain reliever. That was her explanation. I’ve done it for two days but I’ve stop doing it for there was scarcity of “buyo” when I got back to Manila. So, we ended with an herbalist not a “mangbabarang”.
The Herbalist, mistakenly tag as “mangbabarang”.
Do I still looked scared?
My last day was a “reveal” day. A “despidida” was celebrated in my honor by the owner of the place I was staying. Over some bottles of beer, our conversation went onto how mystic Siquijor was or is it? He has his own hair raising story about the Acacia tree in their backyard that refuses to die. The tree was cut at the trunk to make sure of its death. They discontinued chopping the tree down for they heard cries. Every time they cut it, cries reverberated from sources they don’t know where. Every time an axe was dug at its trunk a baby’s cry was heard. They repeated and repeated the cutting on different occasions but the same thing happened. A baby’s cry in pain was always heard. For fear that some spirits or other supernatural beings would retaliate for their action, they dismissed downing the Acacia tree.
This is the Acacia tree that refused to die. Take note of the “axed” trunk.
He continued telling unbelievable stories but this one was a set back for Siquijor. Years back, there was a plan to build an airport on the island. Tractors and other big machineries needed for the project were shipped in preparation for the project to start. Leveling the place was a machines’ job. They were the front liners of every first stage leveling tasks. The project was ready for a jump off. Laborers were ready. Machines started to grind when suddenly all of them just stopped for no reasons. Laborers and drivers of the machines could not tell what caused the breakdown. They simply just malfunctioned for unknown reasons even how hard they tried to fix them. Mechanics were brought in to fix them but failed. Every time a malfunctioned machine was exchanged with a newly repaired one it got damaged. A cycle was formed in the process. Due to this unexplainable occurrence, the plan was shelved and discontinued.
Appreciating the natural beauty of Siquijor and mingling with its gentle people would negate what believers and performers of black magic, witcheries and other acts of enticement, allurement, enchantment, or bewitchment have implanted to people’s minds. True or not, it’s yours to discover. Visit Siquijor and be immersed in the youthfulness of the natural beauty of the island and swim in the richness of the old day’s folklore.
—o0o—
"Midnight Press" 