I am usually stressed out by long,
drawn-out travel times with tedious transfers before reaching your destination.
But there was a point in my life when my sense of adventure, (or was it my
dedication to my advocacies) that made me throw caution to the wind and allow
myself to endure the experience.
Region IV-B has always been
problematic when it comes to rendering technical assistance because it is
composed of several “island” provinces. But bringing all participants to one
place like Manila is very costly and oftentimes results in limited
representation. Thus, it is admittedly much cheaper if the Resource
Person/Speaker is the one to go visit them instead. As it is, even if my
invitation is usually via our DSWD regional offices, I always oblige if the respective
provincial governments manage to find a budget and organize a training/seminar
for their local social welfare officers, regional Federation of Senior Citizens
of the Philippines (FSCAP) officers and appointed Office of Senior Citizens
Affairs (OSCA) Heads.
Sometime in 2012, I was contacted by
the Senior Citizens Focal Person of MIMAROPA because of an invitation from the
Provincial Social Welfare Officer of Occidental Mindoro. I had been to Oriental
Mindoro before, particularly in Calapan and Naujan, but this was the other
side. So apparently, while we flew in from Manila to San Jose where their
airport is located, we needed to travel by land to Sablayan which is our venue.
Fortunately, our satellite office there managed to provide a vehicle to transport
us over rough dirt roads as dust flew all around us. I noticed that there was a
clear road network but they were neither paved nor properly asphalted for
vehicles. We passed by wide river areas where much quarrying was being done,
and I half expected it would partly be for their roadwork at least. Later on I
would find out that roadwork and other infrastructure hardly gets finished in
these parts because of the harassment from NPA rebels. It was a long ride and
by the time we reached the place, we were hungry as hell.
I thought the problematic travel
arrangement issues ended with the long bumpy ride, but I was wrong. The
lodgings provided us did not even give me a solo room, or at the very least, a
double-sharing room with my fellow speaker. I was to share with at least 2
other staff. Then again, the only available accommodation was a small pensionne
house which I believe used to be a motel (read: short-time). To make matters
worse, the PSWDO did not even speak to the hotel to prepare our noon meal. We had
to wait for another two hours before it was served and it wasn’t even tasty at
all.
But I remained optimistic, and decided
to give our hosts the benefit of the doubt. In the afternoon, I decided to go
around and check out the plaza. Mindoro is known for its local indigenous
tribe, the Mangyans. They were the original settlers there who thrived in the
mountains as well as by the coastlines. But the Tagalogs came over from
Batangas and started farming the plains, and they were relegated to the fringes
of society.
By sheer luck, there was a small
sari-sari store there which sold softdrinks and a bit of ihaw-ihaw. I quickly
jumped at the chance of buying myself a good merienda at least. So over grilled
hotdogs and Coke, my colleague and “trainee-Resource Speaker”, Weng, planned
for our session the next day. Midway through her second hotdog, she barfed it
out saying it tasted spoiled. The lady selling the hotdogs offered to replace
it, but we had both lost our appetite.
That evening, we were told that we would
have to return to Manila via another route, and the MIMAROPA staff would not be
accompanying us anymore. They had to stay and do other recognizance work with
the satellite office. Weng and I were to travel to Abra de Ilog by bus and from
there catch a Ro-Ro for Batangas port. I was already busy computing the hours
in my head..it was around two hours from Sablayan to Abra de Ilog, passing by
the towns of Sta.Cruz and Mamburao, then another 2 hours at least crossing over
water to Batangas port, and finally, another two hours bus ride for Manila.
I honestly felt offended for not
having been treated better since I already made the effort to come visit them.
The least the organizers could do, both from the PSWDO and Field Office was to
take better care of us. But I felt they were acting like it was I who owed them
a favor for making this trip. I was already making so many mental notes at this
point because several other provinces requested for similar training-seminars
during the last regional assembly in Manila (That time, I went to the DSWD
MIMAROPA office at Kansas, but they failed to inform me that the real venue was
at SWADCAP in Taguig, so that’s another story.) I could only hope that they
would treat us better.
So the 4-hour seminar was held at the
Senior Citizens Center renovated through the help of then Vice-President
Jejomar Binay. To the credit of the senior citizens of the place, it had an
office for the OSCA Head, a spacious room for short-term accommodation in case
of evacuation, a pantry and another office space for medical missions. The
outdoor covered space had a small stage for programs and trainings like ours.
The talk went well, mostly clarification on the appointment of OSCA Heads and
the real role of FSCAP officers. But the usual controversies dealt with the
implementation of the Social Pension program.
Later that day, we had enough time to
go around and see their old lighthouse at Presing Park. Dating back when it was
used as a look-out for Spanish and Americans alike, the lighthouse has since
been refurbished and modernized to continue its vital function. The “parola
park” still has some old Spanish cannons from long ago, overlooking the South
China Sea and the famous Apo Reef, the so-called center of biodiversity. This
is the reason scuba divers flock to Sablayan - it has one of the best diving
destinations because of the abundance of marine life. We could have done a
glass-bottom boat ride, but once again our hosts failed to arrange for it. I
was expecting a decent tour at least, but they couldn’t offer us anything more
after seeing that alleged miniature version of the Golden Gate suspension bridge.
Later research showed me they actually had an old Spanish church in town and a
Sablayan Museum. Oh well…so much for so-called “hosts”.
With nothing else to hope for, Weng
and I opted to leave at the earliest possible time. We were told there was a
night trip for Abra de Ilog so we could reach Batangas port by dawn.
Personally, I would not have risked a nighttime sea-crossing, but we were
desperate to get home. Afterwards, sharing my story with a veteran community
organizer-friend, he informed me that my greater risk then was travelling at
night when NPA rebels could have stopped us. But I didn't know that fact then.
So we grabbed the chance and they sent over some pansit to serve as our baon.
Truth be told, that pansit turned out to be spoiled again, but thankfully, we
had some drinks to tide us over.
We slept through the bumpy ride to
Abra de Ilog, awoke to disembark for the RoRo to Batangas, then slept some more
until we reached Manila. It was the best we can do so as not to get hungry. By
the time we reached Alabang, we were starving and we scrounged around for the
quickest bite so early in the morning. Fortunately, bus terminals always offer something
for bus drivers, conductors and travelers alike. There was 3 in 1 coffee,
instant noodles, crackers or biscuits, and chips. Before Weng and I went our
separate ways (she was going South-bound, home to Cavite), I bought some food
to munch on and a drink for the other hour or so to Quezon City. On the
North-bound bus home, I heaved a sigh of relief that our misadventure ended the
minute we left Sablayan. I just wish I had more pleasant memories of the place.
