I relished the view of Mt. Apo, as I dream of conquering the country's highest peak, standing mightily in the midst of the clear sky on my way to the grassy field of the University in Kabacan, Philippines.
Hot summer days push people to look for cool tree shades or be refreshed by a buco (coconut) juice or fruit-flavored ice candies. Stands of iced fruit mix called “halo-halo”, pops along University Avenue. The small establishment-lined avenue captures the sub-urban life of the small town where Muslim and Christian communities co-exist.
Upon reaching the field, I was enticed by the sunset perfect for a football game.
I trudged behind as new friends changed into batik soft pants and fixed their lace-lined tumbongs, covering their head, to be geared for some brutal kicks.
Mid-game, I noticed two boys, Maguindanaos—a Muslim tribe, discreetly laughing at our vain attempts at the goal. We invited them to join and in a matter of minutes, were breathing hard just to keep up with one boy’s agility and vigor. I dared to ask him if he wanted to be part of Azkals someday, to which he answered a surprised smile and valiant nod. Azkals is the newly popularized Philippine football team.
The next day’s stop is in one of the town’s remote, water-scarce village to distribute ice cream-filled cones to the local children. The bumpy and dusty drive revealed an abandoned clinic, series of rice fields, nipa huts and a wall-less school— Madrasa.
A hundred ice cream scoops later, I retired by the river bank, adoring the site of elated kids enjoying the swim. My encounter with the agile boy in the field, who could be a future Azkals player to bring the country to the World Cup, and the scene of high-spirited kids made me realize that Apo-sized dreams are bred in this simple town. I began to hope they’d dare to face the obstacle-packed journey to the fulfilment of their visions. This also motivated me to face the needed training for the 3-day climb to Mt. Apo’s summit.
