My Scholarship entry - A local encounter that changed my life
PHILIPPINES | Sunday, 22 April 2012 | Views [3155] | Comments [15] | Scholarship Entry
The Voice of Mount Banahaw
The mountain speaks at night. It draws its breath from the sky and echoes the prayers of pilgrims in its caves. It whispers through leaves, screams through waterfalls and sings through nocturnal birds and kuliglig. In the darkest part of its rainforest, the mountain murmurs its secrets beneath the thick canopy of trees. Spiked palms, poisonous snakes and blood-sucking bulalangwan guard the mountain’s mysteries.
On March 17, 2007 I visited Mount Banahaw and asked the locals about their mountain. The jeepney driver who brought me to Kinabuhayan Village said that it was a sanctuary for cults. An old woman who sold rosaries and amulets narrated the story of Agripino Lontoc, the man who was told by a Santong Boses that the Holy Land had been transferred to Mount Banahaw. Nick, the pator who led me to St. Jacob’s Cave, told me it was the home of engkanto. Some caves lead straight to the spirit realm.
After dinner with other travellers, one of my companions suddenly spoke in a language unlike any other. The strange sounds that poured from his mouth made the hairs at the nape of my neck stand up. What I saw in his brown eyes made me divert my gaze quickly. I looked at Nick, who was sitting before me. “The spirits are talking,” he whispered. On my right a woman was lost in trance. She stared at something beyond our wooden table. “April,” she said, “you can surpass all the trials that you are undergoing right now.” She was translating the unknown language to English. She said other things that made me hold my breath, but I didn’t confess that I had tried to commit suicide. I barely slept that night.
The next day I awoke to a symphony of life. Monkeys chattered, roosters crowed and goats bleated as the sun rose and bathed everything in gold. I listened to the laughter of children playing in the stream and breathed in the fragrance of scented candles and coffee. Nick tapped my shoulder. “Are you alright?” he asked. I nodded, unable to speak.
Tags: travel writing scholarship 2012
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