The Watery Pilgrimage

Lahar field in Sta. Juliana, Capas, Tarlac

The 4×4 truck stopped at the border between Capas, Tarlac and Botolan, Zambales after an hour of traverse through the lahar field.

What an exciting ride it has been!

The truck beat through wet sand and mud and rushing streams causing water to splash so high. The ride revved against rocks and debris, throwing us off our seats. The loud sound of the engine was shouting adventure as we sped through the rugged terrain.

“We start the hike here,” Rommer, our tour guide, said. Accredited by the tourism office, he has been doing this job for ten years now. The four of us alighted and Rommer led the way.

The sky was overcast and the temperature was refreshingly cool. We walked through the valley of mass rocks and boulders.

Ranging across each side are enormous lahar formations that were built from the disastrous eruption of Pinatubo in 1991. Some portions of the walls have already come off and we were cautioned to keep distance from possible erosion and debris fall.

Admiring these natural creations that tower over me has been a humbling experience. They constantly remind me of my meek position in this marvelous landscape. They speak to my heart, encouraging me to always seek and give glory to the Most High.

My adventures through valleys and mountains, literally and figuratively, took me to the “highs” and the “lows” of life, leaving me with valuable lessons that shaped my strength and vulnerability.

I kept abreast with Rommer when we reached the grassy plains.

We were trailing behind several other tourists that came and started before us. He said that eco-tourism is slowly recovering from the pandemic. I asked him how much he takes home from this livelihood.

“Maliit lang Sir…nasa 300,” he said. “700 plus kasi kaming mga tour guides.”

I learned that he could be hired at least thrice only in a year. During the pandemic, when tourist movement in the area were prohibited and restricted, he focused on planting rice and vegetables.

I remained silent as we pursued our way through the well-marked trails. Whether we are ascending in altitude or not, I could not tell. I did not feel anything unusual in my breathing. The path could go down or up, but the transition was smooth and slow. Perhaps, that is the reason this particular climb was rated 2/9 in difficulty. We were generally traversing on flat terrain.

Thirty minutes away from the crater, I felt the temperature became even cooler. The vibrant vegetation are ubiquitously seen. Green foliage, trees, and shrubs thickly cover the mountains. The harmony of nature is palpable as birds and cicadas sing in loud unison.

I stopped by a small cascade among the ferns and scooped an amount of water to wash my face. It is clear, fresh, and chilly. I felt its soothing effect under my skin. I washed my face once, twice…three times until I noticed something. I sat still with a dawning realization, and thought that if I had been sufficiently observant, I would not have missed this illuminating rediscovery.

The flowing water creates music. The running water exudes great energy and speed. There is enthusiasm in its determination to follow its course downstream. In that moment, all sounds have hushed, and the only sound my ears could hear was the rustling water that gets louder and louder as I traced my way back from the beginning of this journey.

I realized that the sound of the stream has been a constant accompaniment in our journey, providing guidance and direction as we followed the different kinds of path that led to where we were now. From the bushy trails to the river valley and farther down the lahar field, the water never stops flowing.

Surely, it persisted to overcome the obstacles it has encountered along its way. As the earlier scenes of the hike replayed in my mind, I have seen the water find its way around boulders that block its passage, and perhaps even tunneling under the sand and bedrock in dry plains just to emerge and continue its course.

The water is determined to flow—to faithfully do its duty, so it can continue to exist and serve the rest of creations.

The watery pilgrimage gives refreshment to fatigued hikers, quenches the thirst of wandering animals, and provides nourishment to growing plants. It needs to stay alive in order to share its very essence to other creatures in the web of life. Truly, nature is designed to depend on one another.

That meaningful scene has never left my mind as we ascended the steep path to the magnificent view of the volcano’s crater lake. With great astonishment and gratitude, I imbibed the beauty and serenity of nature’s majestic masterpiece.

Pinatubo Volcano Crater Lake

Nature has always an insightful way to teach me lessons and to bring me back into the deep meaning of experiences that are often forgotten and lost in the familiarity of everyday life.