A LETTER FROM SOUTH AFRICA

Dear Shubert Ciencia,

I read your blog notes about the churches of the Philippines and I was wondering whether you could give me some advice. My name is Thomas van der Walt and I am a lecturer at the University of South Africa. In February, a colleague and I will be visiting the Philippines where we will conduct a children’s project with the South African Embassy and where I will participate in a conference on children’s museums at the Museo Pambata in Manilla.

I had been to the Philippines before, in 1993 and 2001, but those visits were restricted to Manila and Cebu. As far as Manila is concerned, most of my time was spent at the University of the Philippines in Quezon City. I also made two short visits to Intramuros.

Since my hobby is visiting World Heritage Sites, I would like to visit some of the World Heritage Sites of the Philippines this time and this is where I hope you can help me. It is very difficult to get information here in South Africa.

We will stay in Manila Hotel for a week during the conference and project duration on 17-25 February and therefore will not be too difficult to visit Intramuros and the Church of Agustin. I had been there before but want to visit it again.

In addition to the time in Manila, we have one week in which we can travel and I was hoping that you will be able to give me some advice of what will be possible and what not. We would of course like to see as much as possible. We will arrive in Manila on Sunday (9 February), leave, and have to be back in Manila on Friday evening (15 February).

And then of course, there are the sites in Luzon. I would like to visit Vigan and the rice terraces of the Cordilleras. I know Vigan should be fairly straightforward --- we will travel there by bus (maybe you can give us some advice on the practicalities, which bus service should we use, how should we book our tickets, how can we find out departure times).

But what about the rice terraces of the Cordilleras? How do we get there? Should we go there before Vigan, or first to Vigan and then to the Cordilleras? How much time do we need for this trip? I read about a 15 kilometer walk from Banaue to the tribal village of Batad. Which of the four clusters should we try to see: Banaue, Mayoyao, Kiangan or Hungduan? Should we travel by bus to one of the bigger town in Luzon and hire a car there to travel from site to site?

And then there are the Churches: San Agustin Church in Paoay and Santa Maria Church. Will it be possible to include a visit to Paoay in a side trip?

Unfortunately the Miag-ao Church is out of question although apparently beautiful!

And then of course the Puerto Princesca Subterranean River National Park. Should I be able to stay a day or two longer after the conference? I would like to go Puerto Prinsesa. I suppose the best way will be to fly there. How much time do you think I need? I suppose a boat/ferry will take too long?

Tubbataha Reef National Park is out of the question this time.

I know I am asking a lot, but I hope you can help a bit. If at all possible, I hope we can meet while we are in Manilla!

Kind regards.

Prof. Thomas van der Walt
Department of Information Science, University of South Africa
0003 Unisa, Pretoria, South Africa


Profile: The Church of Bacoor, Cavite

The ecclesiastical mission of Bacoor was established in 1752 and administered by the secular clergy who probably had the first parochial buildings built. In 1872, Bacoor was handed to the Augustinian Recollects then back again to the secular clergy. Fr. Mariano Gomez of the GOMBURZA Martyrs served as a parish priest of the church for 48 years.

un-WAT-ching THAILAND

Thailand 1 would always be my most memorable journey. It was my first trip abroad where I got to pamper my churchophileness in the magnificence of Wat Phra Kaew and Wat Po in Bangkok, and Wat Doi Suthep in Chiang Mai. It was really more of a subsidized tour rather than the training that it was supposed to be. I had a good time.

Thailand 2 and Thailand 3 were more subdued with the excitement tapering considerably since the first encounter. The plus of the second was staying in the the old city district within walking distance of Wat Arun and Wat Saket and a myriad of interesting symbols of the city and its country. The third was more of a long walk to the Erawan Shrine, getting lost in the red district of Sukumvit, and treating Oyet P to an impromptu pabinyag feast of broiled dalag. He was ninong to my Balong but cannot attend the christhening in Nueva Ecija.

I could have passed Thailand 4. Its been only a week since coming back from an exhausting journey across the United States. But really after being there 3 times and travelling to 7 other countries, I seemed to have lost the hots for Thailand. Except that I was supposed to hooked up with Oyet P in Bangkok. And there is still the mystery of Wat Trimit to discover.

The last time I saw Oyet P was some 8 years ago. He brought me a bottle of Absolut Vodka for pasalubong and treated us to a hike to Minalungao Cave where I backpacked a case of San Miguel Beer and Arden walked in his Electrolux Man splendor. We were supposed to eyeball during my US trip but he had to fly to Asia on the same period.

Oyet P just won the grand prize in the essay writing category of the 2008 Philippine Free Press Literary Awards. That carries a hundred grand cash prize and I thought we could drink the night out with some of it. Perhaps Frank C who will be in Laos during that time can come too and finally have real time with him. I only briefly met him once at the High Country Inn in Baguio City, and he was quite tipsy, before our big climb to Mt. Pulag in 1993. My contacts with him after that were sporadic: a phone call when I was trying to get in as a PDI correspodnent, emails for the Mondo Marcos project, and periodic exchanges via our blogs.

Well, Oyet P left Bangkok before I came. He did meet Frank C in Laos. I learned a lot about climate change though and again proved myself mamartek par excellence by downing with some friends 2 bottles of Jack Daniels plus Singha Beer for the Pinoy hugas ritual at the Brown Sugar Bar along Lumpini Park, and waking the next day as the only one not hanged over. It rained on my last day, and I misinterpreted the details of my flight back to Manila. Wat Trimit will have to wait.

PHOTOS EXPLAINED (top to bottom): (1) The conference's group photo as taken with my Nikon D40 by a waiter of the Amari Boulevard Hotel; (2) the night of the Jack Daniels in the Brown Sugar Bar along Lumpini Park, and; (3) waiting for the flight back home (me at the left, Tambuyog's Pepe Tanchuling in the middle, and Oxfam's Mike Llanes at the right) at Bangkok's new Suvarnabhumi International Airport.

THE OREGON TRAIL

August 23 (Saturday)

Des Moines was home. I like the city falling asleep at 7:30 pm and waking up early the next morning. I love LaVon Griffieon’s Century Farm and its apple trees and farms animals and barns. And it was certainly fun nuking ambrosia corn in Akash’s room at the Fort Des Moines Hotel, the still lingering sweet taste flashing back images of a barbecue and my first Fil-Ams who packed me a dinner of Americanized biko and huge broiled sausages that stretched to brunch, and the s’mores and chocolate melting with the sun.

These memories I stirred on a glass of tomato juice during the flight to Denver (I learned late that beverages were indeed served free on American domestic flights). After almost 2 hours, we arrived at an airport bursting with bricbrats of the incoming Democratic National Convention. I killed time window shopping Obama shirts and walking both ends of the airport 10 times in a vain attempt to have at least a glimpse of the Rocky Mountains. We hooked up with the St. Louis Group. A plump lady made a final boarding call. And then Portland.



August 24 (Sunday)

The weather is supposed to be fair for our North Oregon Coast Tour and it was that up to the pee stop at the Camp 18 Restaurant where I brought a sweater for Bulan. Then it rained as we tried to bird watch along Ecola State Park’s Pacific coast and hike through the Douglas fir forest of the Oswald West State Park. It went on at Cannon Beach where I tried to ease its dreariness with a bowl of hot thick clam chowder and a boat of seafood salad and smoked mussels. I walked around, my camera bulging and protected inside my fortunately waterproof jacket, trying to kill time with an over sized cup of Diet Coke from lunch. I was almost a loser until the wine and free cheese at the Tillamook Blue Heron Cheese Factory later in the afternoon helped ebb the iciness of the day.



I had a hot shower and the cozy warm bed back at the hotel. I slept soundly, dreaming of the pages of a brown hardbound book of a long time ago in a distant place called Almaguer. It tells the story of Lewis and Clark and their Indian guide as they trek the Oregon Territory to the Pacific.

August 25, (Monday)

It was our first day of meetings and we were in-house for a morning briefing about the Marriot Residence Inn (where we were staying) being green, and a formal welcome from our local host --- the World Affairs Council of Oregon. The St. Louis and Minneapolis teams also shared their experiences and ours too in Des Moines.

After lunch, we were toured in Portland’s Pearl District via the streetcars of the city’s Trimet Total Transit System. It was about the city being green, encouraging clean mass transport, and transforming Brownfields. Then I raced like hell to catch the hotel’s free football game dinner, and then to Clay Street where I battled to shoot 3 churches in the fading daylight and impending rain.



August 26 (Tuesday)

And then no rain. Just the clear blue sky as we leisurely cruised the Historic Columbia River Highway. I thought it would be a great day for photography.

The downside was shooting under time pressure with only 20-30 minutes to assess each site, select the subjects, adjust camera settings, click, and buy mementos. Add to that the frequent requests for the mandatory souvenir photos by my colleagues. So I was off like mad on the first stop at Crown Point, dancing around Vista House and running up and down its balcony while snatching a couple of souvenir key chains, drinking the loveliness of the Columbia River Gorge, and clicking like there’s no tomorrow. The majestic Multnomah Falls was more difficult with its steep 10-minute hike from the viewing deck to the Benson Footbridge. But I had my photos with some time to spare to buy a shirt for the wife back home and a ranger’s vest for Balong.



Hood River was a working lunch with my first American Indians. The older chief spoke nonchalantly as if resigned to his fate. The younger one was solemn and electrifying in his narration of their battles and hopes that I thought was laced with frustration. He held us in rapt attention and carressed our souls with a melancholic Indian prayer. I was reminded of the Aeta in his tribal regalia during the first Development Innovation Marketplace showcase at the SM Mega-mall in Manila --- a reluctant part of the exhibit shaking from the coldness of a controlled environment.

The day’s finale was Timberline Lodge within a shout of the glacier-covered peak of Mt. Hood. And I --- the sometimes too time conscious and obedient I --- still have nightmares on missing the walk to a snow patch. What I would give to turn back time and be part of the late-for-boarding but deliriously happy photo of Africans and Asians rolling snowballs captured by Akash’s camera.

August 27 (Wednesday)

Fatigue is creeping in from the hustle and bustle of the last 3 weeks. It’s not yet there but damned too near for comfort. It was good that a pretty and sweet talking Asian-American did the presentation of the Portland Office of Sustainable Development. She’s great and she’s hot! The brief respite at the Portland International Rose Test Gardens and a side trip to Lloyds Center Mall also helped. I did have plans to buy a Nikkor telephoto lens for my camera but the $500+ price tag is just too expensive. There was a $150 Sigma version but it was out of stock and will be available on the day I will be flying back home. Tough luck.



I struggled through the afternoon sessions --- mentally asleep but physically awake at the World Forest Institute and nearly boycotting a tour of the Portland Center Stages New Armory Theater. At the hotel, I grabbed a plate of hotdogs, burgers, and tortillas on the way up to my suite but fell asleep midway into my dinner and Democratic VP nominee Sen. Joe Biden’s speech.

August 28 (Thursday)

Our last day. I shared my impressions (understanding the American way of life beyond the text books and foreign policy), gave my evaluation (learning everything in Washington DC, the slowness of the Big Easy, professional fulfillment in Des Moines, Portland being the best of them all), received my certificate (and shot each of my colleagues having theirs), and posed for a group photo. I said my good byes to Safi (Afghanistan), Sabrina (Argentina), Nili (Israel), Rhova (Kenya), Guadalupe (Mexico), Sasha (Montenegro), Sana (Morocco), Sokhna (Senegal), Steven (South Africa), Urwa (Syria), Ibi (Uganda) and Mutaz (Palestine) who will be leaving earlier and might not be seeing again. I washed my dirty clothes, threw unwanted excess baggage to make the weight limit, and performed the sacred art of packing. I treated myself to a big Mediterranean lunch and did a reluctant farewell walk down South Waterfront Walk to the Old Town and Pearl District, which brought me to a last minute surprise of a neighborhood of churches along the SW Park area. It was perhaps a parting gift for my wonderful American adventure.

August 29 (Friday)

I met Neera (Nepal), Akash (India), Jonathan (Liberia), and Israr (Pakistan) at the hotel lobby for our trip to the airport. We hugged farewells to Rodrigo (Colombia) and Uche (Nigeria). They will be leaving on later flights.

My last good bye was to Greg, a third of our English Language Officers with Ellen and Bob. He spent some time in the Philippines and the most casual and friendly of the three. He said he would be looking over my photos and blog page.

The sun did not set through out the long haul to Narita.

August 30 (Saturday)

Back home finally. I told my wife to fetch me at the airport and spend the night at the Diamond Hotel where I was billeted by the US Embassy. The kids and karruba can wait. We have almost a month to catch up.