cagayan de oro and bukidnon

The year J first celebrated his birthday with me, we didn't have anything planned apart from dinner at his parents' house. When 2014 came, we decided to tick off White Water Rafting in Cagayan de Oro from our list. We decided that his birthday will be a great time to do that.

And so we caught the first flight to Cagayan de Oro from Manila. It wasn't the best time to leave because it was too early and we were both very sleepy. But the sun rose while we were flying and it was so beautiful.


Bukidnon

When we landed in Cagayan de Oro, we took the Magnum Express shuttle to Limketkai Mall. From there, we bought tickets to Dahilayan Adventure Park in Bukidnon to kick off our November adventure. Since we were there very early, we had to wait for the shuttle going to Dahilayan which was scheduled to leave at 9am. It turned out that we were the only passengers. For the comfortable ride, I think the price we paid was reasonable.

It started drizzling when we entered Bukidnon and it was foggy when we saw the big strawberry statue by the side of the road that marked our entry to Dahilayan. I was already quite worried that we might not be able to enjoy as much due to the light rain. The light rain continued when we arrived in Dahilayan Adventure Park but the park staff assured us that it was safe to experience their Zipline rides. The Ropes Course, which I was so excited to try, was closed though.

Dahilayan, Bukidnon
November 20, 2014

Flowers in Dahilayan Adventure Park

We purchased the All Rides - Zip Package. This included three zipline rides. It was the first one that I enjoyed the most - the Asia's Longest Dual Zipline - where J and I rode the zipline at the same time. It definitely is the longest zipline I've ridden so far. That being said, it sure is fast but in no way terrifying (the zipline ride I experienced in Crowne Regency in Cebu is more terrifying). I guess the fresh air and the lovely scenery took away my fear. All throughout the ride my arms were spread out, I was imagining what it feels like to fly like a bird. The two other rides fell flat in comparison to the first one.

Ropes Course in Dahilayan Adventure Park

After lunch, we went around the Adventure Park. I was so taken by the pine trees. It reminded me of Benguet and the trails of Mt. Ugo. I especially loved it when after the light rain, the sun shone and the sun rays filtered through the pine trees. It was a spiritual and emotional moment for me.

Tree pose among the pine trees

Apart from the rides, the Adventure Park has some nice spots that captured my eye. It was so relaxing.

We decided we wanted to go back to Cagayan de Oro but we were told by the driver that we had to wait a few more hours for the scheduled departure. So we decided to enter the Dahilayan Forest Park because there really wasn't much choice. I didn't particularly find the Forest Park as appealing to our needs. It was more laid-back and suited people who weren't into thrill and adventure (save for the luge and the zorb) that the neighboring Adventure Park catered to. In fact, there were a lot of kids in the Forest Park. Nonetheless, the park was lovely and we had fun taking a lot of photos with random statues.

I love this quiet spot beside the restaurant. Zen.

Strawberries from the fruit vendors outside the park

Cagayan de Oro

When we left Bukidnon, it rained again. I fell asleep for the most part of the ride. When I woke up, we were already near the drop-off point in Limketkai Mall. We asked the driver for his recommendation on where we could eat. He pointed us at Kagay-anon, where we had grilled squid, the local dish Sinugba, and eggplant salad. The sinugba didn't really appeal to me (because I don't like eating fish) but J took a liking to it. He finished the whole plate (or should I say shell?). It was a very satisfying dinner and we checked in at the pension house with tummies full to the brim.

Kagay-anon's Sinugba, Ensaladang Talong, Inihaw na Pusit

The following day, J informed me that we were leaving for the White Water Rafting adventure by lunch time so we ate early. We signed up with Kagay and joined a group of females. The ride to the jump-off point was not very long.

What I liked about the tour was the the guide was very knowledgeable. Aside from teaching us the basics of white water rafting, he also talked about the Cagayan River and had a lot of other trivia on the side. The guide said that Cagayan River runs between Cagayan de Oro (on the left) and Bukidnon (on the right).

Cagayan River
November 21, 2014

The Cagayan River though wasn't white. It was more like chocolate. The guide mentioned that this was because it rained the day before and he assured us that there were days when the water is more white than brown.

The fact that there were three staff with us - two in our raft and one by his lonesome (he was in charge of taking photos) - made me feel safe. The guides assured us that as long as we listen to them, we will safely finish the course. And so off we went.

My expectation was that we were going to row the entire length of the experience but it wasn't the case. A lot of times, we just sat on the raft and enjoyed being drifted away by the water. But when the rapids came in sight, our guide expertly gave instructions.

At one point though our raft bumped into a flat rock and the impact cause me to tip over and almost fell on the water. The guides were quick to help though so I was pulled up even before I fell on the river. Thank heavens!

I like the thrill and the high of working with the rapids. The Cagayan River is indeed beautiful. It is also very powerful and in that sense, it can be dangerous to anyone tempting it. The experience was quite fast and at the end, I wanted to have another go. For me, this was the highlight of our trip.

Cagayan de Oro
November 21, 2014

mt. tagapo

I think January is a lovely time to hike. The breeze is cool but not cold that will require me to wear fleece. The sun shines just enough to warm me up but not too much that it burns my skin. It's not humid and it doesn't normally rain (I personally don't like being in the mountains when it rains). So I was happy to pass up my yoga classes one Saturday in January to hike Mt. Tagapo.

It was my first time to visit Binangonan and I was surprised at how unhurried the town felt when we arrived at the port of Binangonan (also called Pritil). It reminded me of Coloane in Macau minus the trimmings of a Portuguese influence but it felt the same - sleepy, calm, and unhurried - so different from the frantic pace in the Metro.

Binangonan, Rizal
January 24, 2015

We rode a boat going to Talim Island where we passed fishing villages (on the right) and fish pens (on the left). The water of Laguna Bay is calm but it is vast, much like an ocean. Since it was early morning when we took the boat, it was still quite chilly. It made me wish I had something warm to cover me up.

Fish pens in Laguna Bay

Fishing villages along Laguna Bay

The boat made a couple of stops before we reached Barangay Janosa, the jump-off point for Mt. Tagapo. Upon registering, we found Orly who served as our guide for the day.

From the church, we began our trek, passing by residential areas until there were no more houses.

 

Instead there were trees, grass and stones along the path. It was an easy trek, among the easiest I've had. It helped that it wasn't too hot. Along the trail we passed by several locals who were carrying bamboo. Orly, our guide, said that the locals made bamboo furniture. Indeed, we passed by bamboo groves.

Eventually, we heard the powerful sound of the wind. It reminded me of the sound of waterfalls and oceans. The bamboo groves were out of sight and before us lay a grassland. The grasses towered me and for a moment I felt scared when I could no longer see J and Orly in front of me. The good thing though was that there was only a single trail, which made sure I was reunited with my companions.

The grassland was a sight to behold. The wind blew so hard that it made the grass dance, moving like a wave of green. It was magical.

Mt. Tagapo
January 24, 2015

J and I making our way through the grassland.

Tree pose along the trail of Mt. Tagapo

The hike to the summit was not very difficult. The view from the peak was lovely. I saw the rest of Talim Island. Orly pointed at Mt. Makiling, Mt. Cristobal, Mt. Maculot, and Mt. Sembrano from the distance. I also saw the business district of Ortigas on the horizon. It was such a stark contrast from the untouched lands within sight.

J and I at the summit of Mt. Tagapo

After having lunch at the peak, we started our descent and dropped by the campsite. It also had a nice view of the summit.

It took us a little over 3 hours to complete the hike. Orly was nice enough to offer his house as a place to clean up. The only thing that took time was waiting for the boat back to the port. We waited for over two hours and the boat ride back took longer than the one going to Barangay Janosa as the boat made numerous stops.

I immensely enjoyed hiking Mt. Tagapo. The sound of the wind is still ringing in my ears and the dancing of the grass is etched in my mind.

an inner warrior

Not a lot of people can call themselves fearless. I am not fearless. In fact, a lot of things scare me. Snakes, death, rejection, betrayal, illness, pain, separation, and the list goes on. And when I fear, I have a tendency to flee - whether physically or emotionally (or both).

However, in practicing yoga I learned that I am strong. This is a reminder - more to myself than to anyone else - that there resides within me a warrior.

When we are starting to lose our voices, when we feel threatened or shaken, when we want to flee, may we always find our inner warriors. Some things, people, or circumstances may be bigger, stronger, and more powerful than us but may we allow our inner warriors to shelter us so that we may never lose ourselves in any battle.

The wind may be strong but so am I.

Mt. Tagapo,
January 24, 2015

mt. pinatubo

My childhood memories include scenes of the ground shaking and our clothesline rattling among those of chasing dragonflies, riding bicycles, visiting parks, playing dolls, crushing hibiscus flowers and making bubbles. It included memories of my mother talking about earthquakes and aftershocks, scooping me up and carrying me as she dashed outside the house whenever the ground shook. I remember feeling dizzy and not understanding why, but then again so many things were a mystery to me back then. I recall my mother waiting in agitation for the aftershocks to come along. It confused and frightened me.

I was seven years old when ash fell from the sky while I was riding my bike. I remember how I thought in glee that it was snow only it wasn't white. It was gray. Still, I was mesmerized with my innocent mind not knowing that it was something destructive that brought all that ash. I remember telling someone that it was snowing. But my mother called it an ash fall. I recall getting a pan and a small pail and scooping up the ash so I can play with it inside the house. I'm not sure if it was my mother or my grandmother who ordered me to get back in the house. I didn't understand why they wouldn't let me stay outside when something so amazing to my eyes was happening. My grandfather told me that Mt. Pinatubo erupted. I didn't know what it meant, only that it made the ash fall possible.

Years later, I learned in Science about volcanoes, eruptions and earthquakes. In History classes, I learned what the eruption of Mt. Pinatubo truly meant. I would like to think that I understand a lot more now, perhaps not fully but at least a fraction of it.

Twenty-three years later, I found myself visiting the place where the ash in my childhood came from.

Lake Pinatubo,
December 29, 2014.

This is now the crater of Mt. Pinatubo, which has been drawing a lot of tourists - local and foreign - to the area. Being there and seeing the beautiful body of water amid towering walls of ash and greens, it was hard to imagine how such a beautiful and peaceful place could have brought so much destruction once upon a time.

But then I thought that perhaps the calmness and peacefulness present in this mountain were tributes to the lives the eruption has claimed. The trek to this mountain was very personal to me. I can't say that I was in awe of what I saw in the same manner that I was in awe of the other places I've been to. I suppose it's that this mountain touched and moved me in a way that was different from what I felt with the other mountains I visited. It was special and moving. It tugged at my heartstrings. I made me reflective in a way that wasn't about me. It was about the mountain and the its people. About nature. About life, death and rebirth. About endings and beginnings.

The reflection started the moment we entered Crow Valley riding a 4x4 vehicle. It was unlike anything I've seen before.

Crow Valley

Our trek to the crater of Mt. Pinatubo started when the 4x4 vehicle couldn't take us any further. From the very first steps I took, I couldn't help but think of the power this mountain had to change it to the way it is now - to the terrain that I was experiencing with J and his family.

At the beginning, the trail was more of the same - walls of ash and rocks and stones. There were streams and rivulets here and there.

Crossing a stream along the trail in Mt. Pinatubo

It's the silence and the sound of flowing water throughout the trail, even on the part near the crater where there was vegetation and trees, that (to me) give this place calm and peace. During the trek, a word frequently popped in my head: zen.

When we started our trek back, I realized that this trip was more than just ticking an item in our travel list. It has become so much more. It was a trip inward, deeper than the self to something more profound that I have yet to understand. I have grasped at something that was important to me; that touched and moved me.

J and I in Mt. Pinatubo

Hello from Mt. Pinatubo

an easter egg in warrior III

A few months back, our teacher talked about moments that remind us of where we've been and how things have changed since then. He said that these are reminders and that they sometimes come in random moments that surprise us and immediately puts us in a place that allows us to reflect on the present moment through the past. Easter eggs, he called it.

I had that moment a while ago while in Virabhadrasana III or Warrior III. As I balanced on my left foot and worked on reaching back with my right foot and extending the crown of my head and my arms forward, I heard our teacher (who was at the back of my mat with his hands near my foot making sure I am not forgetting to work the pose the way that it should be done) say "great job". Though it may not necessarily be for my benefit alone, I felt that I deserved it too along with all the other students in class, who like me were doing their best wherever they were in their practice. It was then that I remembered the very first time I went into Warrior III.

I can't remember exactly when but I remember how it went. The shaking of my standing leg and the difficulty I had in balancing. I couldn't even reach my arm forward. I kept them on the blocks and even then I wobbled and stumbled. The second time I tried, I was able to hold the pose but only very very briefly. But even then, I felt it was such an achievement just to be able to try.

Through time, the pieces of advice I've amassed from different teachers who incorporated Warrior III in their lesson have helped me. I find so much beauty in balancing poses. It's a delicate challenge that requires focus, strength and faith. And more importantly, I think it teaches us a lot about balancing in life.

Virabhadrasana III or Warrior III

Photo grabbed from Yoga Basics

to see the world from a different perspective

I have been practicing yoga for a little over 6 months now but I still haven't found the guts to go beyond the classes I've come to be so familiar with. Admittedly, I still only attend FNR classes, FNR Athletics, and Pranayama. I haven't found the courage to transition to a more vigorous (and more lengthy) Vinyasa class.

A lot has happened to me though from the last time I wrote to today. December was a month of excesses that found me skipping yoga classes week after week. I finished December only attending 3 classes that found me wanting to go back to a healthy routine at the start of the year. Almost every teacher talked about detoxification and how the holiday season was a time of excesses. My body happily cried in tolerable soreness a couple of days after attending my first yoga class in 2015.

In a matter of days, I got back in my routine and found my muscles slowly resurfacing. I also found my strength and realized how my strength has improved from the first time I practiced yoga 6 months ago. I am happy to report that I no longer shy away from Chaturanga Dandasana. I feel I no longer plop down like a worm when doing it. Truly though, learning is a never-ending process because I may have learned how to do Chaturanga but I am still learning how to hold it. I still can't hold the pose in a breath in the 90-degree angle. Apart from that, I am learning on becoming more aware in engaging my core in the usual poses we do. Refinement.

Chaturanga Dandasana
Photo grabbed from Yoga Journal

Yesterday I attended a FNR Transition to Vinyasa class with MM. Most of the students were regular students who are more advanced than I am. They are very inspiring. Gender, age and shape are not hindrances to what they are able to accomplish with their bodies. One of the highlights of the class was moving into Pincha Mayurasana (or Feathered Peacock; also Forearm Stand) from Dolphin. When we were all in Dolphin, the teacher went around giving instructions to some students. After a couple of minutes, he said that all those who he did not give instructions to will do a Pincha Mayurasana against the wall. I was very surprised and it was at that moment when doubt flooded in my brain and clouded my focus. I tentatively went near the wall and set up a mat and a block. I prepared for it but forgot all the instructions our teacher gave, losing the alignment of my forearms and the openness of my chest. One of my classmates gave me tips, telling me not to place my head on the block as I appeared to have forgotten what the block was for. He also told me to keep my legs straight and to bring my hips to the wall. I couldn't do it.

Pincha Mayurasana
Photo grabbed from Yoga Journal

The teacher went to my area and helped me up and saw how poor my alignment was. He asked me if I wanted to try again or just to stay in Dolphin. I chose the latter. My body might be able to hold the weight but my mind wasn't ready.

Dolphin
Photo grabbed from Yoga Journal

It was then that I realized how big a role our minds have over us. It can convince us of things that might not necessarily be true. I also realized how the mind needs convincing of what the body is already capable of. My body at that time was like a child begging for faith from a higher authority (my mind). Thinking about it now, perhaps this it what went down between my mind and my body:

Body: Come on, let's do it!
Mind: Are you sure we can do this?
Body: Yes! We are strong enough.
Mind: I'm not convinced. We haven't done this before.
Body: Trust me.
Mind: I don't know. I don't think we can.

I figured, the body and the mind at times do not agree on what an individual is capable of. In a lot of instances, my mind wins over my body. Overcome by hear and instead of being fueled by courage. Fight or flight, they say. Apparently, at that moment flight won.

The good thing though is that I recognized what held me back and I am even more determined now to overcome that which frightens me and holds me back from what I can do. I can't evade inversions if I were to continue my yoga practice. Someday, I will not be afraid anymore.