The Emotera Tendencies

This one’s for the lonely child, broken-hearted, running wild. This was written for the one to blame. For the one who believes they are the cause of chaos in everything. You may find yourself in the dead of night. Lost somewhere out there in the great, big beautiful sky. We’re all just perfect little satellites. Spinning ‘round and ‘round this broken earthly life. This is so you’ll know the sound of someone who loves you from the ground.

Tonight, you’re not alone at all. This is me sending out my satellite call.

Love always,

Jp

♫: James Blunt— “Your heart seems that everyone we know is out there waiting by a phone, wondering why they feel alone in this life. Are we all just satellites? Where’s the love? Show me tonight. Here’s the moment we unite. For all we know life’s just to dream. Who the hell knows what it means?”

#1MonthInBatanes

#batanes

#breathtakingbatanes

#100HappyDays

Day 30: Inner Peace

I woke up very early to catch the sunrise. “Today should be special,” I said and so off I went to Valugan Boulder Beach. The sunrise was beyond breathtaking. It should be special, given the fact that this is my last Sunday in this beautiful island paradise. The periwinkle skies were lit mildly, the sun behind the silky clouds. The hermit crabs were tumbling over as they hid in their shells while I pass by. The ocean was serene, but the waves are roughly crashing ashore. They looked like they will drown everything that I experienced here.

“In a paradise where tourists come and go, who will remember me?”

I worried that my existence was fleeting. I wanted to document everything so I would never forget. Aside from this daily diary I’m sharing, I also wanted to write about how the grass everywhere smelled like the morning dew, how the Ivatans were so timid and polite, how the person I never thought I’d become came to be. I was afraid that I was leaving this place without any proof that I was even here.

“There is only one way to leave your mark,” a voice said to me. “Write a letter.”

—-

As I sped off Batanes roads, I drove to random places I’ve yet to see. Two more days of stay and I realized there’s still a lot to go to. I parked my scooter in San Carlos de Borromeo Church and stumbled upon this blank book archive all the tourists I’ve met have been saying. Here, you are free to choose any number-labelled book and find a blank space to write anything, and have your notes documented in Batanes history.

The place is filled with big shelves with books neatly bound and perfectly crafted in encyclopedia style. There’s nothing you’ll hear but the gentle sound your footsteps create across the floor and a few birds that pass by. The room smells like your favorite old library, housing hundreds of opuses filled with scribbles of love, adventures and sentiments waiting to be published. If I was in high school, I would’ve spent my entire weekends here, reading and stalking different people’s stories and imagining what happens next. I flipped a few and discovered how Batanes really creates an impact to travelers that visit this paradise.

There were many stories, each one with a different style of writing and different topics. I discovered a lot about different types of travelers and their experiences, what they look for and what they aim for when they travel. I thought of my entire stay here and recalled what did I really went here for. Two days from now, I will be flying back home.

I felt an urge to leave something behind, something to prove I was once here. If I didn’t, it would be like I was betraying all the lessons that I learned. I decided I should also occupy a blank space in one of these books. I wanted the next traveler to know how special this trip was to me, my first major solo trip, alone, without anybody I have met before that resides here. Undecided on which book I should write on, I scoured through random numbers and picked the last book in the far right shelf labelled 529, hoping that what I would write would somehow create an impact on the reader whom the cosmic clouds will someday choose. That shelf was beside the dining table and it’s not difficult to notice when you treat yourself a cup of coffee as the archive is also its own honesty store.

“In a paradise where tourists come and go, who will remember me?” I asked.

“Write a letter,” my sentimental alter-ego replied. “Write your heart out and no one will ever forget.”

I started writing in my cloddish lazy handwriting on the next available sheet of the book I chose. I wrote about my recent heartbreak and how that was the impulsive reason I booked this trip for a month. I wrote about how my constant search for love resulted into nothing but frustrations and resentments, and how it took me to different beds and different hearts. I wrote about giving up and resigning to live alone in the mountains. I narrated my fear of not being in control, my fear of being judged as irrelevant, and how I let go, moved on and overcame those fears here. And then I realized it was too cheesy and too bitter. No one wants to read crap like that in Batanes.

I tore down that page and started anew. I chronicled my journey throughout the month until I got here. I elaborated how awkward I was at first and how difficult it is for me to talk to foreign people. I detailed hiking alone and getting lost in the trails of the hills, how anxiously I was as snakes can creep up anytime soon. I retold Chbosky’s “The Perks of Being a Wallflower” and how depression and stoner brownies can go together or not. And then I realized it was too uncomfortable and I didn’t want the reader to think that this was a hostile place.

I wrote about the white sandy beaches I spent most of my time alone. I recounted how the crashing waves calmed my senses and drowned my fears away. I described how warm the hugs of the goats felt and how fuzzy touching the cattle feel. I wrote about the unfamiliar insects in the mountains, how friendly and strange they were at the same time. How they swarmed around my head and then left after a few seconds. I wrote about the fireflies, the land snails, the beetles— how they all enchanted me and then escaped when I approached. And then I realized that it was too long and I didn’t want them to think I was some tourist obsessed with nature.

One thing was clear. I had stumbled upon something very important within these four walls. I just couldn’t seem to write it down. The concept was elusive and each attempt to capture it felt like a betrayal. After many drafts, I realized I was tearing the book down to its few blank pages.

“Make this count,” my sentimental alter-ego said. “Use no other voice but yours. Ours.” I looked at him in his orange aztec bra and ombre locks and I automatically knew what I should write. He was there for a reason. His sentiments was this library. I furiously wrote down my letter, my penmanship heavy and excited. Right before I left, I returned the book to its rightful place, back where the numbers would complete its order. There, beside the coffee makers and the souvenir rack, someone would find my letter. It would contain the most important thing I know.

“Dear Batanes,

There is magic in this province. It showed me the way to inner peace.

Love always,

Jp”

♫: David Archuleta— “Your heart is like a map of scars but it still carries the love. The pen and paper’s in your hands, catching all that you think of. Throw your words into the world. What you feel, and you’ll be heard. Postcards in the sky, saying what's inside. Hoping it will fly away, and find a way to you.”

#1MonthInBatanes

#batanes

#breathtakingbatanes

Day 29: Cool, Calm, Collected

You have tamed me. Now you must take me. How am I supposed to be? I don’t have my thorns now.

And I feel them sprouting. They’ll grow right through if I don't watch them. They'll grow through even if I watch them. And a sunset couldn’t save me now.

These voyavoy, and voyavoy and voyavoy some more. But you cant out-wait fate.

And I wouldn’t raise my child inside the city anyway. They grow up too savvy and they grow up too fast. And they know about buying shit and they know about sex. And they know about investment banking and also about brokerage firms. And they know about the numbers and they know about the words. And they know about the bottomlines and also about stones. And they know about careers and about the real deals. And they all grow up and become people’s people with people skills.

You have tamed me. Now you must take me. How am I supposed to be? I don’t have my thorns now.

Love always,

Jp

♫: Regina Spektor

#1MonthInBatanes

#batanes

#breathtakingbatanes

Day 28: On Riding vs Writing

“Five more days and I’ll be home,” that was my first thought when I woke up this morning. Four, I mean, as the fifth day will just be spent flying. Torn between fulfilling my daily task of documenting my feeble memory and making the most out of my remaining days here, I decided to go on biking. Outside, the sun was blazing, symbolizing the numbered days I’ll be burning here.

“Good morning,” my host greeted. “Aalis ka na daw sabi ni Elma.”

“Opo, auntie.”

Auntie Oring, a retired teacher, has been hosting my stay for 13 days. She was referred to me by Ate Elma, the host I initially lived with upon my arrival. Ate Elma’s homestay is mostly reserved for large groups so she placed me in this ancestral old house, together with Auntie Oring, crashing in her living room converted to a homestay.

By 12 noon, I was already out. It didn’t matter if the skies were too blinding nor the heat was too uncomfortable. I needed to spend this day riding. And so with my videography tools and water, I put on my gear and stepped on the pedal.

As I sped off the Batanes winds, thoughts flourish into my head. About what else to do and what more to discover. Who else to spend time with and where else haven’t I gone to. My mind was blowing, my head up in the clouds— clouds of topics I couldn’t even write about nor dare to. The ride became slower and slower, my knees burned in pain as I realized I was riding up a slope. I got off my pink bike and walked with my vehicle. I didn’t realize that I have been riding about 13 kilometers.

I sat on the grass and took a sip of water. I looked around and saw green, greener as ever, cattle grazing and goats running wild and free. While marveling in the horizon, the sun hid behind the clouds, providing me a brief comfortable breeze. This is the view everyone went here for. I took out my mat and laid down the grass. As I close my eyes to catch up on my exhaustion, the clouds of thoughts faded away one by one. “Who am I pleasing?” I got up and looked around me and there was nobody.

That was the answer.

In every night, I pray that I’d find my people. And finally I did on the open hills. We had nothing to lose, nothing to gain, nothing— as there is no one here. Nobody but myself to satisfy. And when I’m at war with myself, I ride. I just ride.

Love always,

Jp

♫: Lana del Rey— “I’ve been out on that open road. You can be my full time, daddy white and gold. Singing blues has been getting old. You can be my full time, baby hot or cold. Don’t break me down, I’ve been traveling too long. I’ve been trying too hard with one pretty song. I hear the birds on the summer breeze, I drive fast. I am alone in the night. Been trying hard not to get into trouble, but I, I’ve got a war in my mind. So, I just ride.”

#1MonthInBatanes

#batanes

#breathtakingbatanes

Night 27: Cassiopeia

“Perhaps you are not like the stars, but rather a piece of heaven where love pours through and shines down upon me to let me know you are happy.”

Long ago, and so many years before we ever were and ever dreamed we even could be, there was her and her very first heartbeat. All alone in the corner of the night sky, spiral bones of a supernova starlight. She fell in love with another of her kind. Burning bright, she dreamed of a way to ignite.

Such a shame— nowhere near, even the near mist. Light years away from the hope of being sunkissed. Anchored home in her interstellar sea, but poor, lonely Cassiopeia. So she sighs and she burns with desperation. She learns to cry over love of constellations. Then with the spark from a star shooting too close, they both smiled. What a day to explode.

She said, “Tonight, come on, collide. Break me to pieces, I think you’re just like heaven. Why— come on, come on collide. Let’s see what a fire feels like. I bet it’s just like heaven.”

Long ago, in a sky built before us, a supernova grew up to be a stardust.

Love always,

Jp

♫: Sara Bareilles

#1MonthInBatanes

#batanes

#breathtakingbatanes

Day 27: On Laundry, Fatigue and Counted Days

I feel sickly, the traveler in me doesn’t deserve laying back... But taking a rest here is unforgiving. Hypochondriasis or separation anxiety?

Love always,

Jp

♫: LANY— “Way too much whiskey in my blood, I feel my body giving up. Can I hold on for another night? What do I do with all this time?”

#1MonthInBatanes

#batanes

#breathtakingbatanes

Day 26: South Batan

Today marked the completion of my whole Batanes province tour. I was finally able to set foot on all of its municipalities, the last three being Mahatao, Ivana and Uyugan— Uyugan being the sleepiest and calmest one.

There’s a sheer difference in all of these three municipalities, ie in its infrastructures, feels and culture but they’re all of the same heritage. The spots I visited today are:

•Chawa Viewdeck

•Shelter Port

•San Carlos Borromero Parish

•Spanish Tuhel Bridge

•House of Dacay

•Honesty Store

•Alapad Pass

•Madangay Hills

•Racuh a Payaman aka Marlboro Hills

It was scorching hot today. It’s one of, if not, the hottest I’ve experienced being here. And so with discomfort, each time spent per spot was abrupt. I’d still have free remaining days anyway and I can go back to the spots I missed too. We allowed the afternoon sun to burn, taking refuge in the Honesty Store. After the sun settled its heat briefly, we then continued further south.

One of the highlights of the tour was the sleepy cat in the Honesty Store. House cats here in Batanes are evasive and often volatile so I was surprised that he allowed me to pet him. Aside from expensive everything here in Batanes, the one thing that makes me want to go home soon is my cat. I miss my fluffy furball so much 😿

Another one was Racuh a Payaman, or more famously knows as Marlboro Hills. That was the last stop for the day and where I spent most of time at, in the blanket of the green grass and sunset skies. A big golf course that is, it was a very calming and peaceful way to end the day.

So many places to visit and so little time left. I wonder what will happen in the next few days. Will I cram or will I make it just on time, only my cosmic clouds know. But what I know is that all I need is space for the beauty of this province to take me.

Love always,

Jp

♫: John Denver— “Life is old there, older than the trees. Younger than the mountains, blowing like a breeze. Country roads, take me home to the place I belong.”

#1MonthInBatanes

#batanes

#breathtakingbatanes

Day 25: Mt. Iraya— Moving Up and Moving On

It’s 4 am. The fair weather forecast predicted the skies perfectly. And so with well-rested knees and renewed motivation, I decided to climb Batanes’ highest peak again. My first attempt to reach the summit of Mt. Iraya on my Day 2 here was a failed mission. Mt. Iraya is a semi-major climb as my research yielded but at that time, I did not properly prepare. I had lack of sleep, didn’t take breakfast, did no stretching and was carrying a lot of weight. These are few of the reasons why I didn’t reach the peak last time.

And so I thought I’d prepare better than the last. By 4:30 am, I started packing the stuff I needed to carry. I grabbed my outdoor gears and equipment. I went to the kitchen and took out some trail food in the fridge. I scoured through my toiletry bag and scattered its contents on the floor. My first challenge is to decide on what to bring. With a thirty-minute leeway from the meeting time, I was in a whirlwind of mountaineering stuff I don’t have an idea how to keep.

The first step was to pack lightly. I recalled the weight I was carrying during the numerous assaults and with the bag I’m using, I thought of carrying what I just really need. I left my yoga mat, my videography tools and my heavy jacket. I refilled my water container with 1 liter. I put on insect repellant and took a pea-sized sunblock and put it in a plastic sheet. I bagged only a few pieces of biscuit and took my breakfast to save up on space. With the things I learned during the last climb, I changed my ways just like how you really learn in life. There, with the Philippine flag and a raincoat, I tested the load and estimated only about 2.5 liters. With sheer weight on my shoulders, I walked out the door and updated the score: Today’s climb - 1; Yesterday’s climb - 0.

New life. It’s funny how it feels just like climbing up the same mountain. We often say we will change our ways but end up doing nothing. We blame others on our shortcomings, we push the people who care for us away. We get caught up in things we have to do that we let the time pass us by. No one climbs the same mountain twice (at least in my level of endurance), especially when it is a difficult climb, but today, I was ready to face another trial just as how I’m ready to embrace a new way living.

By 7:00 am, we already started hiking. My guide, Kuya Felix, looking ripped and buffed, ready and hefty, was leading the trail and entertaining me professionally. I was walking the familiar trail, identifying the flowers and mushrooms that we just passed by. I greeted the same species of insects and snails that welcomed us to their home, taking more photos and taking more time than the previous one. Within moments, a set of stairs carved out of a big boulder was in front of me, signaling the first assault. He offered me a hand but, “Keri ko pa, kuya,” I said. After passing that boulder, I took a sip on my water bottle and once refreshed, I decided to walk slowly. “Chill lang tayo, kuya,” I say and he smiled in big approval.

After a few assaults, a view of the airport presented itself and I decided to take a break. “Take 5 muna, kuya.” I compared the time I reached that spot to today’s climb and realized I was slower than the last time. I was taking the hike lightly, not rushing but at least not panting. Sure, we were late, but the better endurance I was possessing compared to my last attempt will definitely provide me with enough strength to finish the hike I initially failed to do. They say old habits die hard, and I had to change that habit of rushing, hoping that I can successfully reach my destination. Today’s climb - 2; Yesterday’s climb - 0.

Multitasking. We all do it: Texting while walking, sending emails during meetings, checking social media while in another conversation at lunch. In today’s society, doing just one thing at a time seems downright luxurious, even wasteful. But chances are, you’re not doing yourself any favors by multitasking your way through the day. One of the reasons why I went to Batanes for a month is to make sure that I will be able to do everything with greater amount of time, to not miss out on sights, and to not be dead tired by moving from one place to the other. I used to rush through things, and often, my decisions were impulsive and irrational. With me turning 30 this year, I decided to turn over a new leaf and leave unnecessary baggages behind, focusing only on the people who really care for me and my own selfish little goals.

An hour away before the summit, rain started to fall. I took out my raincoat and wore it quickly so we can reach the summit on time before the 90-degree trail turns muddy. The trail after the shoulder was too technical and advanced. At about noontime and numerous “kiss-the-walls,” we finally reached the summit. Second time’s a charm for me. The photos on certain blogs couldn’t give justice as the seemingly elusive peak provided us a with its rare clearing, a one in a million moment given that it is raining very hard. My guide, a local Ivatan, only experienced clearing just today on his 7th attempt, and I couldn’t be any happier being his lucky charm. As we descended back, I politely asked to lead the trail and be on my own as he patiently waited for Caloi, the joiner I met in Itbayat, who were with us. “Susundan ko nalang ‘yung trail kuya,” and with trust, he let me go and asked me to take extra precautions.

It’s liberating to be alone. I hiked down the slopes using my hands, legs and butt and I got dirty as fuck. “It’s better this way,” I say and I took out my camera, taking photos of myself just like I used to. I played like a kid in the muddy trail, mushing the soil and enjoying the soft loam my feet were feeling. I took some wild fruits and tasted them, often spitting them out of bitterness, laughing at myself out of the outrageous risk I was taking. I chased some friendly bugs, played with snails and searched for that elusive Batanes White Viper. Oftentimes, it’s better than that. No one will judge you but yourself. No one to mock you, no one to be considerate to, no one to stop you. Good thing that Caloi was taking his pace lighter than me so he and Kuya Felix were too slow to see me let loose in the forest like crazy. When we finally reached the base, I immediately went home, taking the experience as another milestone achieved in my mountaineering adventures. Today’s climb - 3; Yesterday’s climb - 0.

A renewed sense of independence. I finally embraced that the entirety of my life will be spent on my own— but I know that when that happens, I will be okay. I have stopped comparing my life to others and finally understand that this just the way it is. It’s liberating to be alone. My life is different from the others, and I know that everything will be just fine. New life - 1; Old life - 0.

Hello, Batanes. I am a better person than before.

Love always,

Jp

♫: Cardiknox— “I’m seeing things so differently. I’m learning that I’m not where I want to be. But trust me, I’m on my way, on my way. And I’m not gonna stop, I’m driving through the night with the tank on empty. I’m not gonna stop, I don’t know where I’m going, but this road will take me. I’m staring at the stars, I got miles ahead. I feel the fire burning, but though not there yet. And I’m not gonna stop, nothing’s gonna get in my way.”

#1MonthInBatanes

#batanes

#breathtakingbatanes

Day 26: South Batan

Today marked the completion of my whole Batanes province tour. I was finally able to set foot on all of its municipalities, the last three being Mahatao, Ivana and Uyugan— Uyugan being the sleepiest and calmest one.

There’s a sheer difference in all of these three municipalities, ie in its infrastructures, feels and culture but they’re all of the same heritage. The spots I visited today are:

•Chawa Viewdeck

•Shelter Port

•San Carlos Borromero Parish

•Spanish Tuhel Bridge

•House of Dacay

•Honesty Store

•Alapad Pass

•Madangay Hills

•Racuh a Payaman aka Marlboro Hills

It was scorching hot today. It’s one of, if not, the hottest I’ve experienced being here. And so with discomfort, each time spent per spot was abrupt. I’d still have free remaining days anyway and I can go back to the spots I missed too. We allowed the afternoon sun to burn, taking refuge in the Honesty Store. After the sun settled its heat briefly, we then continued further south.

One of the highlights of the tour was the sleepy cat in the Honesty Store. House cats here in Batanes are evasive and often volatile so I was surprised that he allowed me to pet him. Aside from expensive everything here in Batanes, the one thing that makes me want to go home soon is my cat. I miss my fluffy furball so much 😿

Another one was Racuh a Payaman, or more famously knows as Marlboro Hills. That was the last stop for the day and where I spent most of time at, in the blanket of the green grass and sunset skies. A big golf course that is, it was a very calming and peaceful way to end the day.

So many places to visit and so little time left. I wonder what will happen in the next few days. Will I cram or will I make it just on time, only my cosmic clouds know. But what I know is that all I need is space for the beauty of this province to take me.

Love always,

Jp

♫: John Denver— “Life is old there, older than the trees. Younger than the mountains, blowing like a breeze. Country roads, take me home to the place I belong.”

#1MonthInBatanes

#batanes

#breathtakingbatanes

Day 24: Breathing Underwater

There is a certain enjoyment in being able to overcome fear. It’s a reason why some of us travel— to be baffled, to be surprised, to step out of our comfort zone. To look around at our foreign surroundings and have absolutely no idea what’s going on. This weirdness that you notice while on the road comes in different guises. It can be corks of culture, or it can be unique attractions. It can be natural, or it can be man-made. In some cases, it can be a complete mystery to even those who claim it as their own. Today, I chose to overcome my fear of being completely underwater.

The Batanes Protected Seascapes. The name itself reeks of fear and mystery. If you want me to summarize this whole post, I cannot. I’m fairly new to diving, this is my second time, but I pretty much have seen a couple of underwater panoramas and so this place is definitely different from the others.

I woke up with a racing heartbeat before my alarm. It’s 5:37 am and it’s already warm, probably because of my undying anxiety. Sweat fills the last set of hair at the back of my neck. I grabbed my towel and wiped the pool of frisson, and within five minutes, I was taking the last sip of my coffee. I was in a whirlwind of water gear, hailed a tryke and sped off to the venue.

DIVE Batanes, the only diving school in Batanes, was warm and welcoming. The usual flag of bright red with a white diagonal band from the upper hoist down to the bottom right was loud on its gates. I was greeted by my guide, Sir Em, completely briefed of how new and anxious I was. He started taking out the equipments and patiently explained to me their parts, how a thing works and what to do. I am a very visual and slow learner so the way he trained me and demonstrated the necessary actions were just what I needed. “Hindi ‘to in-explain sa amin two years ago,” I say, and he assured me that this is just eazy-breezy. After taking the last swig of my Extra Joss, we hopped on to his vehicle and drove to the area. I wore my wet suit and with clutched hands and knees rocking up and down, I called for my cosmic clouds to besiege the waters, asking for just enough time to complete my Batanes trip. You know, just in case today was my really my time.

Ashore, a final briefing took place. The waters were rough but I felt calm in the hands of my guide. He strapped me on the weights and my knees bent immediately, implying the mass I needed to carry underwater. I put on the BCD with the oxygen tank, the tank that would nourish me for the next two hours, and down I fell to the ground. I crawled towards the water, my guide and his helper laughing and suddenly, all the anxiety I was feeling vanished into thin air. With my flippers on, I walked towards the depth. I felt sorry for the sea creatures, from the smallest of the plankton to the sturdy kelps, as I step on them. As I went down, my clumsy water skills devoured my body from 3 feet, to 5 feet and within a minute, I was treading the waters at about 8 feet. Sir Em fixed the floaters and with the last inhale of air through my nose, I submerged my head into the deep.

“Wow.” That was the first thought in my head. Schools of fish greeted me as my gauge told me I was down by 15 feet. I was deep down that quickly. The sea anemones were pink, the nudibranchs were yellow, the corals were of different colors. A morey eel’s head in one of the holes of a coral peeped and prepared for an attack. Swarms of clams were opening and closing their valves, welcoming me in their ecosystem. “Sumdep kamu,” they seemed to say and I thanked them in my head. Oftentimes, I fluctuated in floating rapidly and submerging in prone position at the same time as I have no idea how to control the air on my vest. Flounders and Nemos showed me the way, my guide picking up on my trail and taking videos, as I follow my marine friends in a valley between massive underwater mountains.

As I venture into the eerie realm, I looked at my gauge. I was at 40 feet and used up 100 bars of my oxygen. The gorges where I was became darker and darker, and my guide from afar, busy documenting the sea snake I just passed by, looked like he can fit into my thumb.

And then it dawned on me. The dependence on others is temporary and for the first time in my life, I didn’t panic. Deep in the depths down below the Pacific Ocean, where the biosphere is mostly unknown and unobserved, human survival is feeble, but I felt mighty and this dimension was mine for the next hour. My guide swam rapidly, showed me what he wrote on his underwater writing instrument.

“Tara sa sinasabi ko,” it read.

I signaled okay 👌🏻 and he led the way. After passing by a few stonefishes and pufferfishes, a deeper gorge showed our way of entry. He lit his underwater flashlight attached to his head and as the water felt colder, I took a big breath and flutter-kicked away. Within a few moments, I found myself diving above a species of Poritidae coral, looking like a big, dark cauliflower probably about the size of two MOA arenas, 60 feet below sea level. It was a great sight to behold and yet, again, in awe, I murmured my meek submission into the sinister waters.

“If only I had gills...”

There is a certain enjoyment in being able to overcome fear. It’s one of the reasons why I flew here alone— to achieve geographical milestones, to let go, to be humbled, to get off my high horse, to step out of my comfort zone. I learned that my dependence on others is temporary and for the first time in my life, I was able to prove to my frail twin inside that I am capable of doing things I usually say I probably could not.

When was the last time you did something for the first time?

Love always,

Jp

♫: Marié Digby— “Wanna fly through the blue bay on the bottom with you. Getting lost in the waves, let the world slip away. Where nobody can find us, I don’t wanna be safe. Leave it all behind us, make an escape. Tell me what am I feeling, it’s hard to explain. Like underwater breathing, swimming in rain.”

#1MonthInBatanes

#batanes

#breathtakingbatanes

Day 23: North Batan

After 23 days, I finally got to tour around North Batan. Batan Island is where the capital Basco is situated at. Basco shares the island with three more municipalities: Mahatao, Ivana and Uyugan.

Comparing the land tours of Itbayat and Sabtang, Batan is usually done in two separate tours: North and South. In a few days, I will venture the south of this island, and will discover more of the Isamurongen culture. Here’s a list of the places we stopped by today:

•Mt. Carmel Church

•Pagasa Complex

•Fundacion Pacita/Cafe de Tukon

•Japanese Tunnel

•Vayang Rolling hills

•Naidi Lighthouse

Rain fell down the sorry skies by lunchtime, just as when the tour has ended so after eating, my guide and my the solo traveler I met went to rest for a while. At about 5 pm, we chased the sunset at Vayang Rolling hills. There were some spots that I missed, as I’m saving the others for a more dramatic entry such as sunrise in Valugan boulder beach, etc. I don’t want to flood my network even more, hello— daily Batanes nonsense? So instead here’s a collage of the highlights. If you’re somehow interested with the photos. Go to my alterego IG either at @jpramospogi or my travel documentary IG @81_provinces.

Love always,

Jp

#1MonthInBatanes

#batanes

#breathtakingbatanes

Day 22: Back to Basco

There are things in life that you both dread and like. Some of us have a love-hate relationship with the durian fruit. Some, accept the love they think they deserve. We swallow them like bitter pills because they mask a multitude of pains, but know that they have negative effects in the long run. Just like, you know, this Itbayat to Basco boat trip. One moment, I was enjoying the tilted ride. Moments later, two women were puking on my left and right, their chyme and saliva crawling up on my skin, my GoPro submerged in grime.

Smelling like wet wipes, I hurriedly got off the boat and ran towards the nearest eatery. “Pork at last,” and I devoured my food in 15 minutes. I belched so loud, the people eating laughed so hard.

“Mukhang ginutom si sir sa Itbayat ah.”

“Ang sarap po ng karne.”

I was talking to a lady who politely introduced herself as someone who saw me taking videos of the waves at Paganaman Port. She asked me how long did I stay there and was amazed by the length of my stay. I told her that it isn’t what I expected it to be, but all in all it was lovely.

“Salamat sa pagbisita sa munting bayan namin,” as she patted my back. “Asawa pala ako ng mayor dun.”

I was stunned. Good thing I didn’t complain about the adjustments I had to endure there. All the while I thought I will forever be that nega person you’ll love staying away from, but I’m glad of the improvement in my character. Shut the fuck up when you have nothing of substance to say. Good job, Jp.

I walk the familiar streets and immediately went to a grocery store. I picked up biscuits, toiletries and a can of PikNik for my stash. “This week’s a cheat week,” I mumble. As I head to the cashier to pay, I took a rim of cigarettes and included them in my basket. “Marlboro Blue at last.” Been on Winston and Fortune for the last 7 days. I handed him a crispy bill and ask him to keep the change.

I walked towards my host as she smiled at me. “Welcome back,” she greeted and I felt like I’m back to civilization for the first time. Auntie Coring and I caught up a little until we got interrupted by her guest. They spoke in Ivatan and I slid to the side to give them privacy.

The living room that was converted to a guest house was vividly lit. The afternoon sun was gloomy but was conveniently warm. My sheets were changed, the stuff I left still in place. I put my bag down and changed to the house slipper Auntie offered. “Nothing has changed,” I said in my head. The smell of old wood and wet concrete warms my blood and I cuddle the cold pillows for a better mood.

Time flies while I’m lying and one by one, the sounds around me started to fade way. I grinned a sly grin as this town instantly became mine until I leave. Within minutes, I was sleeping in Basco. Little did I know that I’d wake up the following day.

Love always,

Jp

♫: Regina Spektor— “In another town, my fingers so cold. In another town, my soul feels so old. In another town, I’ve sold all my gold. In another town, but I know I love you.”

#1MonthInBatanes

#batanes

#breathtakingbatanes

Day 21: Siayan Island, Nanay Cano and Kuya Obet

As our faluwa left for Itbayat, the soldiers we shared the night with gave us a grand salute while our vessel sailed the seas. A bid of farewell so heartwarming, I might not forget. Yet again, I pulled out my flag and raised it for them one last time, dancing roughly with the Ivatan winds as we speed off back to town.

We spent a few hours on another uninhabited island, Siayan. There, I saw another face of Batanes different from its other islands. Although there are natural lagoons in Itbayat, the lagoons here are teemed with ecosystem so alien and eerily beautiful, it’s somehow scary. From above, it looked like the Enchanted River found in Surigao del Sur, but these are carved off of coral rocks and lined with purple lichens that turn to pink as they surface above. They had different fishes trapped inside them when the high tide subsided and looked like a live aquarium. A particular one is created perfectly, that it invites you to go swim on it. It was so beautiful, I took out my snorkeling gear. As I put it on to try to snorkel, a sea snake inched away so I decided to not go for it. You know, this particular sea snake is not venomous, but still, it’s a fucking snake.

On the way back to the faluwa, I commanded to take the hill back. It wasn’t really a massive one, but very steep. With nothing to hold on to, I crawled my way up and noticed a cliff suitable for cliffdiving. I ran towards it and prepared my GoPro for documentation. It was a short jump, but the darkness of the sea below indicates unknown depth and with that, yet again, did not go for it. Cliff jumping is really not for me. As I went back the trail to go down through the rocks, I found a large half of a bivalve. I took it so I can give it to Nanay Cano, my host, as a pasalubong. I remembered her garden filled with massive shells as ornaments so I assumed she would happy receiving a piece of Siayan.

Nanay Cano. Anyone who dares to go to Itbayat knows her. She’s the one bloggers are writing about when you do your research. She’s the one who willingly provides a brief history of the island even if you’re staying away from her humble homestay. She’s that old lady you would normally see on YouTube when you watch documentaries about the island. I don’t even know if she realizes how famous she is, you know, she can be the Apo Whang-Od of Batanes. Google her name and add the keyword “Itbayat” and you’ll find out.

A retired history teacher, she now manages her humble lodge in the heart of Itbayat, Batanes. She likes talking about History, Culture and Religion. She’s living alone with her granddaughter, but her sisters and other relatives are just around town so she’s not so alone at all. She has four kids, three boys and a girl, the girl being an adopted one. On mornings, she tends her garden, delivers feeds for her niece’s pigs and tidies up the homestay.

“An epic vacation is what we aim during your short stay with us,” reads the bottom of her house rules. My stay at a whole wasn’t just epic. It’s remarkable. On my first morning, she noticed I didn’t touch the rice she prepared for me as I have no meal to go with it. “Hindi pa po ako gutom,” I lied. She probably knew, given the fact that there have been a couple of visitors who her lodge home. “Galing kang tour kahapon, hindi ako naniniwala.” Off she sped in her kitchen and shared me a bowl of her humble ginataan. It wasn’t the ginataan Manila existentialistas prefer. It had coconut milk, sweet potatoes and bananas. “Mahirap lang kami dito kaya ‘yan lang ang sahog.” I grabbed the bowl with gratitude and nurtured my cold, deprived body with its residual heat. It was the most heartwarming ginataan I ever had.

“Mahirap lang kami dito.” How many times have I heard her utter that word. During her briefing, during when seeing me smoke, during when I was asking for little ketchup. It was almost a dead ringer of their fate, that I shrugged it a couple of times. I told her that being poor is a state of mind and said “Pero mayaman po kayo dito sa pagmamahal.” She smiled and off another long story of hers about her colorful small family and town.

And there is so much to say. Sometimes, the sheer weight of all the things I say to the locals I meet and all I leave behind feels like it’s going to crush me. My body aches from carrying it around. The way I conceal my shortcomings, the way I pretend to ignore theirs, the way I used our common pain as common ground. I carried them around for years. One day, I said to myself I didn’t want to carry that weight anymore. Especially not on this lovely town where I finally made peace with myself.

A few moments later, my tour guide arrived. Kuya Obet, a CAFGU private serving the army. His motorbike dirty but sturdy, his body covered up in drapes against the sun. A pretty boy in his late 30’s, he most likely doesn’t want the harsh sun pollute his skin.

I’m not usually, well, contrary to my alterego announces on Facebook, loud and talking. Not when I’m in my element. During my first few hours spent with him in Itbayat, we were not talking about anything. Unless, I’d go asking where the trail is, the next destination would be or a brief history of this place, we would be in dead silence. Don’t get me wrong, he’s a good guy. I just have my mood swings. During idle moments of our tour, he opens up about stuff. Little by little, information start spewing out. As what Nanay Cano mentioned, Itbayatens are really as timid as a hermit crab. But once you showed them you’re not a threat, they’ll come out of their shell and interact with you. Just don’t harm them.

I hope I didn’t.

One week has passed and I would have to say goodbye. I’m not sure when or if I would ever be back, but I’m glad I found two people whom I found home away from home. I’m glad that I shared one of the milestones of my life with them. I’m bound to Basco to finish the last leg of my Batanes visit, and I’ll definitely keep them in my heart.

Love always,

Jp

♫: Christina Aguilera — “Slowly drifting into a peaceful breeze, tongue-tied and twisted are all my memories. Celebrating a fantasy come true, packing all my bags, I’m finally on the move. I’m leaving today. Living it, leaving it to change. As I’m driving, I’m captured by the view. So much beauty, the road becomes my muse. The heat is rising and my hand surfs through the wind. Cool, calm, collected is the child that lies within.”

#1MonthInBatanes

#batanes

#breathtakingbatanes

Day 20: A Night with Northernmost Castaways

I was looking for the nearest Taiwan shores atop the northernmost hill of The Philippines, but it wasn’t a clear day so I just observed whatever I can lay my eyes on. Upon taking a closer look, this island is not different from the others. The leaves are all still changing. The weather can be mild and gentle. The insects still eat other insects. It got boring so I decided to interact with our soldiers.

I rappelled down Y’ami Hill, still in awe of the major milestone I achieved. As soon as I reached the shoreline, I was greeted by one soldier who introduced himself as Jay. He immediately noticed a pack of cigarettes in my bag and asked for one.

“Salamat. Wala na kaming supplies dito eh.”

“Kelan po dadating ‘yun?”

“Sana bukas?”

“‘Sana’— so pwedeng ma-delay pa. E ‘yung food n’yo po?”

“‘Tangina eh, puro papaya na nga lang kinakain namin dito eh. Nawala na nga libog ko kakakain ng putanginang papaya na ‘yan eh! Hahaha!”

I was taken aback. I’m not sure if he was lying or was just trying to build rapport to ease the intimidation his troops are somewhat radiating on me.

“Ok ka dito, kaming bahala sa’yo.”

Serving the military for almost 20 years, Sir Jay, as I call him isn’t the typical army guy upon first glance. Tall, well-built, outspoken and unabashed, you wouldn’t believe that he has been stationed to the most critical and non-critical military operations of the country. He has been stationed at Davao and North Cotabato, twice in Lanao del Sur and has fought with insurgents in Eastern Visayas. That’s how he learned different dialects and has interacted with different kinds of personalities, if not all. Me, I learned from travelling and culture immersion and I have interacted with different kinds of personalities through the stressful call center life. We immediately clicked, sharing stories of our love for travel, language and Filipino food.

He showed me around camp through pointing his fingers and telling a brief background of what a thing is for. Through his picturesque description, I went on an imaginary tour of this 2x1 km island. He said a thing about a carcass of a dead whale washed ashore at the southern tip of the island, rock formations behind the hill and a monumental toilet beside the marines camp. I educated him about how columnar basalt rock formations are formed and he enjoyed the little geology knowledge I was sharing. In a valley between two massive hills, they share the rocky coastline with the Philippine Navy and Marines. Life around camp functions somehow the same as the normal life, but with different means. You want food, go fish. You want fun, you go swimming. You want peace, tour yourself around. “There’s nothing else to do. ‘Pagkatapos ng trabaho namin sa hapon, bahala na kami.”

There were about 50 of them here, and the three troops have different tasks on the island, but with common goals: to be of service. The Navy is building a shelter for fishermen so they can rest when there’s a sudden change of weather. The Marines is stationed to watch over foreign invaders. The Army is building two helipads for easy transport going here. The Army workers are almost done, and are on their final polishing before the helipad can be used for the first time on Wednesday.

“N’ung pinadala kami dito, wala pa ‘yang mga ‘yan. Puro malalaking bato pa ‘yan at kami nag-clear diyan,” referring to the two massive helipads they were building.

Three months ago, they were sent here for their tasks. Along with construction materials, basic commodity and food supplies, each brought little things to remind themselves home. One brought a guitar, some, photo frames of their family. There were also soldiers who are serving the country for the first time. “‘Yang mga bagets na ‘yan, ‘di nila inexpect na ganito kahirap,” referring to a group of four kids, fairly new with hearts on their sleeves. “Pa’no pa ‘pag sa giyera sila pinadala, ‘diba? Kaya sine-set namin expectations nila at parang kuya nila kami dito.” A great, big vessel took them all here, and left to work, as if they were flocks of cattle left marooned to fend for themselves, castaways of their own different kind.

It’s fun experiencing life this way, when you’re a tourist. But to live like this for a few months is a another story. As the sun beautifully prepared to set, their lieutenant commander called for dinner preparation so he left me for a while. As I walk along the beach of volcanic and coral rocks, I looked at the sea and noticed waves resembling that of Siargao’s. Calm but strong, creating waves good for surfing. There was a small group of soldiers of the Navy ashore, some washing their clothes, some taking a bath. A large set of fit men was playing in the waters so I decided to go swimming with them. You know, just in case I might float away to Taiwan, I’d have them take care of me.

Dinnertime comes and we shared the little of what we both have. Me and the set of alcohol I brought with my joiners, the fishermen who took me here prepared our food from their fresh catch of fishes alien to me and the soldiers together with their tools. Jay lit a great big, bonfire and introduced me to his teammates. A small group of soldiers and joiners, me sitting comfortably on a styrofoam disk, as if I’m a queen ant protected by her army. Their leader is from Ifugao, few from Cagayan and Metro Manila, three from Mindanao. It was refreshing to speak Bisaya and I was in bliss conversing with someone in that dialect sitting with the bonfire on the northernmost beachfront in the Philippines.

“Nakakabilib ka,” as our conversations went deep. “Hindi biro ‘yang ginagawa mo, lalo na sa Mindanao. Pangmataas na uri.”

“Hindi din naman biro ang trabaho n’yo. Pareparehas lang tayo.”

“Hindi pala lahat ng bakla e ganu’n,” referring to stereotypes about members of the LGBT community.

“Magkakaiba tayo ng personalities, sir. Pero sabi ko nga, pareparehas lang tayo.” As I shift gears into making the night being not all about me.

Off I go hearing different stories from each of them, how we all hate ants crawling upon our skin, but how they certainly differ in showing care for little animals. How long they’ve been in the service, how far they come from their hometowns. How much we’re the same in terms of interests, how different we are in religion and political views. How much we love the country, how we’re different in the way we show it.

“‘Yun na ang sinumpaan naming tungkulin. Isang pribilehiyo sa amin ang mamatay.”

As we finish the alcohol, we cleared the area and off to bed we go. Sir Jay took me to his tent and prepared my bed for the night. It’s of the best location, the surface is flat and it’s high above the other’s, giving you a great view of the moonshone hills above and the army camp below. I looked around and saw two catbeds. His stuff is scattered, but his uniform neatly kept, his bag of medicine and a collection of seashells. He gave me the shiny one and told me to keep it as a blood pact of our friendship. He taught me the army handshake and bearhugged me goodnight, lifting me one feet in the air. As he turned away to offer me privacy, butterflies in my stomach chimed through my willing body. I gave him the salute I learned from when I trained for CAT back in highschool as we whispered our warm wishes for the night.

And there I was, smoking my last cig, overlooking the soldiers sleeping peacefully on their hammocks. One by one, they waved at me in the dark. I brought my flag out and waved it back at them, as if I’m hoisting it during a flag ceremony. In a country filled with chaos and inequality, common grounds in situations like these can be shared. The food we ate, the alcohol we shared, the means of living we endured— these are all the same.

This island is not different from the others. You know, the leaves are all still changing. The weather tonight is mild and gentle. The insects still eat other insects. And we, we came from contrasting backgrounds but we all share common ground— err island. The beauty in travelling is learning how we are all different, and still we’re all the same humans.

Love always,

Jp

♫: Sara Bareilles — “You may find yourself in the dead of night. Lost somewhere out there in the great, big beautiful sky. We are all just perfect little satellites, spinning round and round this broken earthly life. This is so you know the sound of someone who loves you from the ground. Tonight, you’re not alone at all. This is me sending out my satellite call.”

#1MonthInBatanes

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#breathtakingbatanes