Of all my travels, old and new, this one is among
my favorites for one very special reason; experienced it in the most
inconvenient but probably the best way possible.
While it’s true that there is so much in store for
Iloilo or in other parts of Guimaras, our itinerary favored a rather unusual
route, a road less traveled so to speak. The story started in the usual,
widely used fashion; departed from Manila then boarded a plane straight to
Cabatuan. But instead of taking the expected course to the renowned Gigantes
Island, we opted to catch a 20-minute boat ride headed to Jordan via Ortiz
Wharf in Guimaras. Shortly after, braved that long fx ride to the south end part
of the island to take a leap of faith to Taklong Island.
It was past noontime when we arrived at the tip of the Nueva Valencia tailend,
gateway to the Taklong Island aka South Point Islands. But it turned out the
island wasn’t supposed to be open for visitors during that time and prior
arrangement with the UPV Miag-ao Admin Office is required. And with the mobile
signal in the area scarce, we were but clueless and hopeless of what to do next
having been trapped into that bitter pit of a situation. We were clearly on a
brink of a massive adventure failure barely looking at our deplorable
position.
We were able to eventually reach out to the right person after several
communication attempts with the locals. Our saving grace was a UP Visayas
professor who happened to be a project leader of an ongoing research in the
area at that time in pursuit of the rehabilitation of the damaged sea after the
severe oil spill a couple of years back. The UP card worked its wonders and
saved our asses yet again. We then just spent the remainder of the day over a
short island tour course which was more of the reflection kind of afternoon.
There’s something special in the place more than its devastated beauty that got
under my skin in the best and at the same time hard way. Traces of the recent
tragedy still linger all over the place – black oil residues embracing the
coastline rocks, helplessly damaged and lifeless corals, and the memory of a
thousand hermit crabs that never made it alive during that dark chapter. The
most precious things are oftentimes the helpless, fragile ones. The spot itself
speaks volumes of its truth; an undeniable story of grief, painful enough to be
overlooked. All the more it hurts with the fact that humans, the supposed
protectors and preservers of this gift, were the root cause of all those troubles.
The sun was about the set towards the end of that
short roundabout. Too ironic how such wonderful sunset graces such broken
things reassuringly exclaiming loud peace in the midst of the silent chaos,
momentarily covering up human crimes. Took my time appreciating the rocky
outcrop curves and edges, the exquisiteness in the outstretch of sandbars, and
the lush forest of mangroves. The sun rays candidly kissed the soft sea breeze
echoing a resounding hope for the each and every part of that ecosystem trying
to recover from the sorry heartbreak.
I wish people could be like all these things – able to recuperate gracefully amidst the adversities. Sure, it will be a long and enduring process but probably, what we need is time and all the help we can get, especially from those who truly care. Here’s also to low-key hoping that people would be more forgiving to others and to themselves. Sure it was someone’s fault that what happened has happened, but we also have the choice to make a better case out of the situation and learn something out of it all. May we all find peace and courage in fixing broken things and patient enough to allow whatever wounds there is to heal properly. After all, we deserve it and we owe it to ourselves.
