CASA RIDO

My arduous journey to the Philippines' Himalayas of the South - Mt Apo

ritchiebasilio — Sun, 15 Jan 2023 21:20:00 GMT

https://youtu.be/EcZx8q9jvnY

Amidst the vibrant greenery of Bansalan, Davao del Sur, in a quiet corner called Sitio Balutakay, Purok Pluto, something captured my attention. Spread across the rolling slopes was a lush mosaic of vegetable farms, their rows of green and bursts of color reminiscent of the landscapes I had once seen in Changhua, Taiwan. The familiar sight brought both nostalgia and awe, as if two worlds were gently overlapping before my eyes.

The weather, calm and promising, seemed to bless our hike that morning. With curiosity tugging at my steps, I set out eager for the journey ahead. But nature, ever unpredictable, had its own plans.

As we ascended, the sky gradually darkened, clouds weaving a mysterious veil over parts of the mountain. Along the narrow trail, we met a caravan of horses, their backs heavy with bundles of fresh produce. Guiding them were friendly farmers, their smiles warm despite the fog creeping down the slopes. Their presence was grounding— a reminder of how deeply life here was tied to the land. Around us, wildflowers bloomed shyly by the trail, softening the climb and adding splashes of color against the gray mist.

At the first base, we paused for a much-needed lunch. By then, the fog had thickened, embracing our surroundings in an otherworldly silence. The mountain seemed to breathe, its presence both daunting and intimate. Soon, the adventure shifted into something bolder. The path ahead was cloaked in white, our vision reduced to only a few steps. We relied on sound—the chirping of insects, the rustle of leaves, the distant calls of birds—to guide us. It felt as though the mountain itself was testing our resolve, urging us to listen, to feel, and to move with care.

Hours later, as though hidden by design, we stumbled upon a small farmstead. It was a sanctuary of simplicity: a modest store stood at its heart, where a humble family greeted us with shy but welcoming smiles. The mother and daughter watched our arrival quietly, while the father worked patiently in his cabbage patch. Chickens scratched the earth nearby, and livestock grazed contentedly, completing a picture of life sustained by patience and resilience.

Our journey pressed on, pulling us into steeper, muddier trails. We crossed streams, slid through sticky mud that clung stubbornly to our shoes, and navigated deep forest paths where every step tested our determination. Yet the forest sang to us—the gentle symphony of flowing water, insects, and bird calls reminding us that we were never alone.

At last, after hours of relentless effort, the summit revealed itself. A surge of triumph washed over me. Before us towered the majestic Mt. Apo, its presence commanding yet serene, surrounded by a landscape painted in countless hues. The exhilaration of that moment was indescribable—an unspoken understanding that the struggle had been worth it.

But the mountain had one more challenge. Descending toward the crater, I gripped ropes to maneuver steep cliffs, confronting my fear of heights head-on. Every step demanded courage, every movement a test of will. By the time I stood at the crater, I felt both physically exhausted and deeply alive.

That night, sitting inside a cave while rain poured outside, I found myself reflecting. This climb, I realized, was never just about reaching a peak. It was about the people who made the journey possible—the farmers who carried their harvests down treacherous slopes, the porters who shouldered our loads with quiet strength, the local guides who led us safely through uncertainty. Their sacrifices and dedication, often invisible to the casual traveler, were what transformed the journey into something more than a personal conquest.

In the end, what enriched the adventure was not only the breathtaking vistas or the physical triumphs, but the stories interwoven with the land. This mountain was alive not just with forests, rivers, and sky, but with human spirit. And as I closed my eyes that night, listening to the rhythm of rain against stone, I carried with me a humbling truth: nature’s grandeur is undeniable, but it is the lives intertwined with it that give every journey its deepest meaning.

When is now

ritchiebasilio — Mon, 28 Nov 2022 21:31:00 GMT

Today I long for that babbling stream's embrace, Where azure waters dance on their eloquent chase... Oh, when will they realize the loss they've inflicted, our timbered rain tree so rare?

Alas, too tardy—hog's root ripped it away, No one dared to replant, let it sway... They traded its beauty for a sinister fee, Ignorant Johnny, so heartless and free.

In peril I stand, my life's threads now entwined, Penning these words to remind and remind... Of the agony my mother bore, Under Johnny's palm, itching, sore.

The sun and moon waltz on eternally, Yet my little creatures—fading, inevitably... As time soars by, I may become a nomad, Masked and masked, in a world gone mad.

Mercy obscured by the mundane, Toxic fumes surround, like a relentless bane, Just as in King's tale, "The Running Man," In a world spun by an indifferent plan.

Ah, my children, had you lived in my days, When we sought refuge in nature's ballet of rays, Hide and seek amidst the urban grove, Our playground of wonders, where we'd rove.

But now I watch you, confined, withdrawn, Playing alone, indoors, from dusk until dawn, No sweat to strengthen, just eyes fixed to screen, Plaque-building moments, where nature's unseen.

A whisper in my heart, I must confess, What do I miss, in this digital mess? Johnny, my dear, what's yet to unfold, As my final drop of sweat, the future's truth, I'm told.

For you won't grasp your mother's despair, Till fate strikes you down, beyond repair, A pain deeper than death's chilling shade, A lesson too late, in greed's parade

Photos: When is now

ritchiebasilio — Sun, 27 Nov 2022 00:39:00 GMT

Photo taken crossing sitio Manalang and Sitio Mala

I was a teenager in my late 40's

ritchiebasilio — Mon, 14 Nov 2022 19:55:00 GMT

As I cast my thoughts back to those youthful days of my teens, watching those two energetic hyperbikers in action, a question arose within me—32 years ago—“What would life be like as I approach my 50s?”

A multitude of thoughts flood my mind upon reflection. Could there be an unforeseen genetic condition that alters my capabilities, rendering me incapable of the feats I once accomplished 32 years ago? Alternatively, perhaps fate has a different path in store—perhaps I won't even reach that age. It's the enigma of life—whether it's destiny, the outcome of accidents or illnesses, or even the repercussions of past unhealthy habits—these uncertainties linger.

Yet, amidst the uncertainty, I've learned to navigate life's trials in ways that nurture both my body and mind, a lesson I've gleaned from those I've encountered. Embracing the positive aspects of individuals while understanding their flaws—this approach has shaped my outlook. For every action, there's a reaction, and harboring grudges can only lead to distress. Even in the realm of microbes, retaliation exists against giants. "Control," they say, but I beg to differ. Suppressing emotions can lead to affliction, so I choose to let go with prayers.

I find solace in rephrasing age-old wisdom—“You are what you eat” or “Your actions reflect who you truly are”—so I tread the path of authenticity, veering away from hastiness, superficiality, and artificiality.

Of course, my perspective is personal, and the realm of right or wrong is blurry, but I'm content knowing that I can match the vigor of teenagers with my own spirited grin.

However, I've noticed one area where a divide exists in the mindset of these teenagers—judging risk. They dive into adventure without pondering safety. Their focus is on enjoyment, pedal power, and the thrill of the moment. Amidst their zest, the paramount lesson I've imbibed is to relish every instant without fretting. If only I could retain my vitality indefinitely, to instill in today's youth the value of well-being. To enable them to savor their youthful pursuits throughout life and grow old while embracing the spirit of their teenage years, unburdened by health concerns.

Photos: I was a teenager in my late 40's

ritchiebasilio — Mon, 14 Nov 2022 19:20:00 GMT

How do I find the right candidate to whom I can entrust not exactly a 100 percent of my expectation

ritchiebasilio — Sun, 20 Mar 2022 19:07:00 GMT

PROMISES ALONE DO NOT ENSURE THAT HE/SHE IS THE RIGHT CANDIDATE. INTEGRITY is more important than WORDS, which can quickly turn into empty promises. Remember that HALF THE TRUTH IS OFTEN A WHOLE LIE, and that some people exaggerate or stretch the truth to make it appear more "I'm the best candidate." Others "spin the truth" by presenting "selected" facts that back up their point of view. Withholding key facts is also a form of deception - it is clearly intended to deceive. "I'm not upset that you lied to me; I'm upset that from now on I can't believe you," Friedrich Nietzsche said.

"Never, ever promise the moon." You can't promise someone a 5% investment return, but you can show them your track record and promise to work hard on their behalf; you can't promise to arrive in two hours, but you can promise to leave at 10am; and you can't promise anyone sunny weather, but you can promise to hold the umbrella open for them if it rains.

If I were you, I would prioritize the candidate's INTEGRITY over their WORDS. Plus, if you're still perplexed, kneel in silence and pray. Rather than posting negative thoughts on your wall about one party or the other, express your belief that your choice is superior to the others, that he/she is your best.

Sorry, but we will never be able to dictate who GOD appoints. Accept whoever he/she was after the May 9, 2022 election. Regardless, whether your candidate is correct and mine is incorrect, we will both benefit from his/her leadership in six years. At the very least, if we pray and share our thoughts with the Almighty, rather than giving negative feedback on your wall, we will be more blessed.

Photos: Life of contentment

ritchiebasilio — Wed, 17 Nov 2021 11:35:00 GMT

Life of contentment

ritchiebasilio — Wed, 17 Nov 2021 11:33:00 GMT

Amid bedrooms of plush comfort, I find myself drawn inexplicably to this open balcony's embrace. Enveloped in a pyramid of mosquito netting, I slumber beneath the watchful gaze of moon and stars. Celestial kin, they seem, casting their shimmering light upon me, bestowing an ethereal connection.

The very essence of nature dances through, wafting on gentle breezes, as if tender arms embrace me in solitude's company. And as I surrender to slumber, an orchestra of creatures serenades me, their harmonious melodies weaving a lullaby that cradles my soul.

In these moments, I realize a truth—contentment outweighs the pursuit of wealth and worldly gains. Amid the symphony of nature's gifts, my heart swells with gratitude for this day, brimming with love, serenity, and joy. So as the night's curtain falls, I bid you all goodnight, wrapped in the embrace of life's simple pleasures.

My Journey to Becoming a One of the Millions Global Vocal Live-Streaming Artist

ritchiebasilio — Wed, 5 May 2021 18:39:00 GMT

Music, like life's winding path, is a journey where notes and rhythms mirror our experiences—both sweet and sour. It's a symphony that resonates with the stories of our existence. Back in 2006, I hit the pause button on the radio, silencing my own voice. It was an echo of years invested in singing, dating back to the 1980s. I recall "Memory" from Cats, voiced by Barbra Streisand—my anthem, endlessly revisited.

The spark was lit by my mother, her voice practicing for a TV station's yuletide celebration. Curiosity led me to those lyrics, a cassette tape, and my solitary serenade. It unfolded into class performances, urged by a teacher's gentle push, and the exhilarating rounds of song-sharing throughout the school. Sir Paragas and Ma'am Mariano at Tetuan Central School, wielding stern pointers, molded me both in music and character.

High school unveiled an all-consuming love for melodies. Baon money turned into cassette funds, fueled by an unquenchable desire to sing along with my idols. Those tapes bore my picture, a pledge to my future album. And the hills, oh, those hills—a playground for my voice to echo, "the hills are alive with the sound of music."

Post-graduation, silence cloaked my tunes. Singing retreated from spotlight, channeled into solitary moments. The early spark of public performances dimmed. I chose quietude, immersing in studies.

Thirteen years later, life abroad introduced me to a Belgian friend, a doctor and a pianist. Music thrived anew. We played, practiced, and sang together, until her tragic departure in a car crash. Her absence strangled my connection with music, morphing it into an adversary. 2006 marked the year my musical promises crumbled.

Mountaineering and marathons eclipsed my passions, but melody clung. Vocalizations mingled with leaves' rustle, crickets' chirps, birds' songs—solos amidst Bukid Shabandar's wilderness.

Unbeknownst to me, music never let go. April 20, 2021, saw me jamming and recording, not for applause, but to fill my solitude with positivity. Facebook and YouTube posts extended this positivity, weaving a connection beyond likes and shares.

Amidst fifteen uploaded tracks, one shines—a reminder to persist despite odds. Gratitude for a talent scout's recognition warms my heart. Streaming to global listeners beckons, a testament to resilience.

May 3, 2021, marked a revelation—music is an odyssey. In abandonment or rejection, it remains, a steadfast companion offering solace, echoing the timeless wisdom, "with a smile" (Eraserheads).

Journey in my Tangled State of Mind

ritchiebasilio — Tue, 25 Feb 2020 11:43:00 GMT

Maneuvering along on a narrow rocky road, like a country cowboy, this I remember, I switch off the engine of my utility vehicle when I spot this man walking towards us. A then asks, for a way and behind am my friends this is what I see in my mind's eye, I'm in a tangled state.

It was 5 a.m., breath-taking for we will be heading at last to the highland that I cherish of its magnificent beauty from the movie Jurassic, searching this on YouTube: Mt Pico, Vitali District, Zamboanga City, resulted, none has documented it, and so I personally need to do some, for my memoirs and for the others references since, vlogging is my passion.

Thirty meters away, a stranger is heading towards us on foot. So, I halt at the right of him and ask about Mt PICO. Worthy, at least we chat or else I'm already proceeding in the wrong direction. Afterward, I maneuvered backward my steering wheel to go into the adjacent route. Unnoticed, the limbic part of my brain generates that familiar vision and pushes it through the cortical path until it brings to mind, that it was in my dream, just a few meters away from that stranger. No wonder dreams are premonitions, exactly, we are meant to be here.

It was a perfect day; the whole shebang happens at the right time and in the right place. Also, when a group of local young stallion sees us, they also eagerly followed.

Longsighted Mount Pico as if, it’s simple for me to climb. Its appearances look like more of a fin of a sawfish rather than a beak (Pico) of the birds as the native name it. As we draw closer, things look contrarily. Instead, of getting nearer it comes out the opposite. However, the aromas of the woods and grasses are becoming tougher as it persuaded me to shift my devotion to my juvenile life playing in tall grasses by constructing a military camp and sometimes trying to role-play the life of a caveman, and for that, it lessens my angst.

The hums of the crickets are rejoicing than we move forward while the ground that we stood walking abruptly ascends. Distinct, this is not an analogous experience that I personally have undergone in my earlier mountain trek. Indeed, this is the more challenging solitary. Anyway, the excitement and thrill as we headed further it feels me more of a teen spirit maybe this is the result that I feed myself often with a natural/organic lifestyle.

Advancing further, we are astonished seeing the stone wall stiffness vary between 80 and 85 degrees elevation as well as approximately 700 meters high by 100 meters wide. The worse both sides of it are already 90 to 95 degrees elevated. Bare as it is; no ropes, no headgear, empty water bottle plus no chocolate, I almost wanted to scream back at the base.

However, I have no choice instead “Just do it!” as the tag written on my mountain shoes caught me in the eye.

Reaching at the high around 500 meters we traverse using only the tip of our foot in sideways walking while our hands are clutch tightly to the mounded rock where we hinge on half of our strength in our hands and the other half is in our foot included FOCUS. It’s a matter of life and death. Facing the rock we opt not to turn our back or else we might faint seeing the heaven that awaits our unfulfilled soul.

Three to five hours of a stumbling block of rock climbing we have reached the vertex of the parabolic summit. Standing at the big stone feeling the wind blows is akin to the song passage:

Oh, I feel like no-one ever told the truth to me
About growing up and what a struggle it would be
In my tangled state of mind
I've been looking back to find
Where I went wrong

From the Queen – Too Much Love Will Kill You. This passage sheds light on me the truth of life is always with a struggle. Without the 360 degrees epitome, you won’t understand your purpose!

A Birthday Journey Towards the East Coast of Zamboanga City

ritchiebasilio — Sun, 8 Dec 2019 22:20:00 GMT

Sometimes your mindset shifts to what you don’t expect that it doesn’t happen anymore and yet it is still being practiced by some. It became also a major concern too that you feel amazing with the original tradition that brings you to the real root that you feel you are still at HOME.

Traveling 71.2 km towards the east coast of Zamboanga City is not new to me. My student who is a local resident from this District invited me many times ago but I denied his invitation but what turns me on is when he said it’s his birthday. Indeed flabbergasted remembering my role as his second parent. My duties and responsibilities have granted but with a little confusion that I might travel alone to the unknown place that only a little did I know. A night before his classmate SMS me if I will pursue the plan and I reply with absolute caps lock mode “YES WE SHOULD GO”.

Apparently, the day comes I brought a birthday cake and ask the saleslady to print it “CAIA” but wondering is that his name? Anyway, my intention is whoever it is I just want to make their day “Happy”. Because I believe in this quote: “A kind gesture can reach a wound that only compassion can heal. by Steve Maraboli” unquote.

Driving in some smooth and rough chicken intestine alike high way as they name it, have forced me to stop twice and check the radiator because it showers water in the interior part of the machine electrical wiring of my vintage 5k utility jeep that stops me driving. But luckily it provokes me the idea to sustain organic leaves taken from the banana plant similar to the driver who is also used of organic that helps me cover the lid of my radiator to make my jeep run smoothly again.

Seemingly we have reached our destination but not knowingly the never-ending road is just the beginning of another interior journey from the highway. It is about 4 to 5km going to the house of the celebrant.

Surprisingly my state of bewilderment has clarified upon reaching their household. Yes, it was the daughter of Mrs. Gonzales's birthday who is my co-teacher. Check I got the right spelling printed in the cake while staring at the tarpaulin. Screening around got me what is I opt: simplicity and contentment that put us into a state of total calmness, obviously vigorous in the faces of every visitor around. Chavacano here has preserved its traditions in celebrating birthday reflecting the life of our ancestors and I’m proud I’m at Home.

Photos: Malamawi Beach Resort - Tour Guide Training

ritchiebasilio — Wed, 27 Nov 2019 18:02:00 GMT

Malamawi with love

ritchiebasilio — Wed, 27 Nov 2019 17:42:00 GMT

An excerpt during the final stage actual tour guide challenge: May I have your attention, please. Thank You! Let me share with you my experiences that I wrote during the time when I first set put in this white beach resort. I remember standing beside this Talisay tree reminds me of the poem that I write and I quote:

"Oh, Allah who hails Malamawi Little did I know You are the brightest pearl of the North Sea Sky! I wonder why you gloom so late yet untiringly you still remain in your youthful life. Not only from its existing terrestrial, but also to the creatures in the deepest blue sea, that makes your coastal beauty so vibrant and bright. Your powder sands reminisce me that I'm walking under the silhouette sky. The calm waves heal me, more than anything of what I missed my city life. The bath of the sea breeze therapies me of what I feel preservation for my youthful life. Oh Malamawi, if you can only speak and ask me why? The answer is it's your people who yield to keep you of who you are, amidst the transition happening on the other side. How I wish to know you in the past... I would never forget the sunrise, the sunset that reflects "LIFE" in your crystal clear coastal water that jolts me to smile. For this, I would remain your forever sandstone that reminds me of your beauty inside and this journey would forever imprint and sealed-in for life! Unquote.

You have one day and one night here and your assignment is, what do I mean this passage? "I would never forget the sunrise, the sunset that reflects "LIFE" in your crystal clear coastal water that jolts me to smile." I hope you can share this experience tomorrow when we meet. This is RIDO your tour guide and if there's an emergency I know you have my number. Ok, thank you and see you tomorrow. Enjoy!

Father and Daughter Road Trip to the Highest Mountain in the Philippines: Mt Apo

ritchiebasilio — Mon, 9 Jul 2018 04:29:00 GMT

Our road trip from Zamboanga City to Kidapawan, Cotabato City

Photos: Devotional trip from Zamboanga City to Cagayan De Oro City

ritchiebasilio — Mon, 19 Sep 2016 11:57:00 GMT

THE HEART OF A FATHER

ritchiebasilio — Mon, 19 Sep 2016 11:41:00 GMT

Anticipation tingles in the air, a blend of anxiety and excitement, as we embark on a transformative road trip from Zamboanga to El Salvador City, Philippines. With family close and a deep connection to nature, this journey evolves into a profound blend of therapy and devotion, etching itself as a lifetime's most cherished voyage.

In the tranquil embrace of a 3 am dawn, the moon casts its radiant glow—a beacon of hope within the shadows. This luminous reassurance accompanies our expedition, a reminder that even in darkness, courage finds its way. Guiding my family forward, the panorama unfolds—a post-El Niño aftermath. Earthly tones shift to shades of brown, mountains scorched, whispering tales of a recent fire's uprising. Yet, resilient smiles from locals assure us of their strength amid adversity.

Steering along the Kumalarang highway reveals nature's hidden treasures and complexities. Subanen houses, delicate huts adorning the roadside hills, beckon reflection on life's simplicity. Amid this tableau, the expansive horizon reveals itself as we ascend the Lanao del Norte mountain highway. Mount Malindang emerges—Asia's UNESCO World Heritage site—its denuded forest silently masking its grandeur. Unseen, it passes our peripheral vision, igniting a call to preserve the legacy of our forebears.

Navigating the winding road, the coastline captivates with its tranquil expanse, lulling us into a calming reverie. Nature's song resonates, yet its tranquil facade masks a keen intent—to remind us of our vulnerability in exchange for the safety of our family.

Arriving at the shrine, our journey morphs into a prayerful odyssey. Ascending the 200 steps to the Divine Mercy statue—a towering 50-foot manifestation of Jesus—our spirits soar. The juxtaposition of sea and statue, a serene tableau, amplifies our connection with the divine. Contentment envelops us, united in familial bonds and unwavering faith. Abbé Prevost Lescaut's words echo, "The heart of a father is the masterpiece of nature." In this moment, I etch my commitment to a duty that shall forever remain.

494 km road trip from Zamboanga City to Cagayan De Oro City, Philippines

ritchiebasilio — Sun, 6 Mar 2016 17:19:00 GMT

It took 8 to 9 hours travelling from Zamboanga City to Cagayan De Oro City at 494km. We spend one night in Kapatangan District. It cost me P3200 roundtrip special gas at a rate of P38.00 to P40.00 per liter including the reserved gas for emergencies. The cheapest gas price is in Buug, Kapatangan and Cagayan de Oro city. The lodging house cost at a rate between P200 to P250 only good for 12 hours and some 24 hours sleep. This is an eco-tour due to, you can see lots of nature wonder one of those is the vastness of Mount Malindang which considers, as one of the ASEAN UNESCO World Heritage, Maria Cristina Falls, and beaches as well as sometimes by luck you can see wild cats at night. Most of the road are smooth except in Iligan City a little tilted that you need to slow down your driving except if your transport is brand new it will still run smoothly. No problem with foods if you are not choosy most of the residents behind the streets have cafeterias and you can taste their native dishes at a very cheap price. Try the Visaya Tinola it is a chicken soup but they prepare the recipe differently as compared the Zamboangenio Tinola and the best sati house in Sangali - Zamboanga City.

Hidden Treasure In Brunei Jungle - A Solo Adventure

ritchiebasilio — Sun, 10 Jan 2016 10:57:00 GMT

This is my documented video during my solo adventure in a reserved forest in Bandar Seri Begawan Brunei Darussalam

Life isn't Plastic

ritchiebasilio — Wed, 23 Sep 2015 07:12:00 GMT

I read this vandalism written at the back door of my neighboring advisory classroom it says, “I hate plastic” at the back of me are my students they read it aloud too. One of them asks me a question. Teacher, do you hate plastic? I replied, yes! She answer back “for me I don’t hate plastic because it can be recycled (She means “PLASTIC” the material thing.” But I interpreted this way. I reply back to her “yes, but you are already “totally damage”. (What I mean if you meet a “Plastic” personality they are not a genuine person they show you positive personality in front but at the back they talk more against you - negatively) My students smiled and laugh she got my point of what I mean she said “sir you’re tricky” I laugh!

Tubeless to Tireless

ritchiebasilio — Wed, 23 Sep 2015 06:59:00 GMT

My wrangler jeep caught flat along the highway with only two lanes. Since the other new extension lanes situated to both sides of the old lanes are under construction due to the expansion project of the government. In as much as it is not safe to park along a highway so I drive it slowly backward towards the Barangay Hall for the safer place to park to change the tire. Upon parking in front of the Barangay Hall, I traveled by foot to school to ask a favor to our school caretaker to buy me a new tubeless tire since I don’t have one. My instruction is to get the flat tire of my jeep that park in front of the Barangay Hall so that he can bring the sample size at the same time to put in air of the new tire at the shop. I give him the money and he embarks to his motorbike immediately and drive away towards the south direction while I'm in the east watching him. But with my surprised it triggers my theory to why he turns South since the Barangay hall is in the North? Anyway all I though he knew the size of the tire that’s why I just feeling cool that I believe he will get the correct size. After 30 minutes of waiting he arrives carrying a lifesaver (Interior part of the tire), which he bought for 150 pesos. With my disbelief, I become speechless because he knew my tire is tubeless.