It is not always a good idea to join the holiday rush, and I found myself making last minute decisions. I still had time to change plans. It may seem odd for some that I’m all packed and ready, but still I haven’t made up my mind as to where to go. But whatever, I hopped on a bus going to Olongapo, then I took it from there. I’m allergic to tourist trails, so I took the path less traveled. And it made all the difference. While everyone was visiting the dead, I decided to visit what’s alive - Mt. Pinatubo - the long way round.
I arrived in San Marcelino, Zambales after another 30 minute bus ride from Olongapo. And here, I wasted 2 hours waiting for the jeepney to Aglao to get full. Though I had gotten used to waiting like this, but still it brought out the impatient monster in me. When the jeepney finally started to move, I sat on the roof and watched the unique scenery around under the blazing sun.
I was still in 1st grade when this notorious volcano erupted, and I remembered how Manila was covered with ashfall. The sky was dull and gray, and the ground was covered with white powder. It was like that scene in “Silent Hill”.
Nature can be really unforgiving. The Mt. Pinatubo catastrophe was the 2nd largest terrestrial eruption in the history, claiming hundreds of lives and destroying the surrounding areas that were once forests, farms and towns. The evidence of the volcano’s destructive force can be seen along the way, however devastating, the lahar (mobile volcanic mud) surprisingly transformed the surroundings into a scenic vast white plains between arrays of jagged mountains. It felt like I’m in another place and time. I was amazed with the distinctive landscape of contrasting colors - the bright white dessert-like ground, the blue mountains, the dark green pine trees, the endless blue sky and the fluffy white clouds. Seeing all of these from the jeepney roof is better than watching on hdtv.
It was late noon when I arrived in Aglao, not knowing where to go. The guy from the jeepney who collects fares guessed that I was going to climb Mt. Pinatubo and he insistently offered to be my guide. And later on I found out that he even overcharged me for the fare. From his looks, I knew that he couldn't be trusted. I deliberately ignored him as I preferred to have the “Aeta” people guide me there.
I went down the hill, the panoramic Mapanuepe lake in the middle of the blue mountains quickly uncovered right before me. I was once again mesmerized with the whole backdrop, and that moment was like an epic discovery of an unspoiled beauty hidden deep within Zambales.
No signs of tourism out here, no one was offering any guided tours to Mt. Pinatubo or whatsoever. It was “All Saints Day”, and it seemed like a celebration with all the loud videoke singing around. Then I met Jessica, she was hanging out at the lake. I was mistaken for a lost child from a distance. I asked her if she knows any guides who could lead me to Mt. Pinatubo, but she told me that it was already late to travel that time. I was introduced to her cousin – Marie, and Marie’s Aeta husband “Katamtaman”.
“Katamtaman” told me that he could recommend some Aeta guides who know the ways around the mountains. But Jessica and her relatives insisted that I stay for the night and that it would be safer to travel the next day. I learned that the hike could take up to 2 days. Coming here in Aglao straight from work sleepless and tired, I took the offer.
The word “Aeta” is not supposed to be used as an insult, but unfortunately the impact of stereotyping in Manila had caused a different way to address the natives around here. Referring to the hairstyle, the locals of Zambales prefer to call the Aetas “Kulot” (curly) while the rest who do not belong to the clan are called “Unat” (straight). This way of addressing has been widely accepted, and I found myself carefully abiding by the rule as respect to both groups. Nevertheless, those were just labels. A “Kulot” can marry an “Unat”, no signs of divisions or whatsoever. Everyone was treated equally and fairly around here.
I appreciate the kind hospitality that Jessica and her family have shown. The news of someone staying at her place quickly spread like a virus among her neighbors and relatives. And one by one, different faces visited her place, curious of as to what a stranger was doing here. It was kind of hard to explain in simpler terms what I was doing, and they couldn't seem to fathom why a lady was venturing alone in an unfamiliar place.
It is simply just a never ending thirst for adventure. Like a junkie who would go crazy if not supplied with daily dose of heroine, I have developed a severe case of addiction.
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