THE FIRE THAT FEEDS MANY

Firefly watching. It is the promise of fantastic insect fireworks that brings us from Puerto Princesa City to the Iwahig River. The trip takes about an hour, long enough to marinate in mosquito repellant. Once at the site, my siblings and I are perplexed to see a narrow wooden dock jutting out into absolute murkiness. In the fragile fluorescent pool formed by the lamps overhead, I bemusedly picture a boatman coming to deliver us to the Netherworld. A boatman does appear, yet he looks so comfortingly human that I step into his "bangka." The dinghy is small, for four only, and does a sway-wobble dance as one shifts weight on it.

As our teenaged boatman paddles off from the rear using his oars, I realize that it is not as dark out on the water as it seems from land. I discern a multi-curved empire of mangrove trees ahead, populated intermittently by glowing yellow orbs. The brief flickers from the fireflies are like flashes from another world. Out in the open, we are somehow enfolded by the still river, the cricket concerto, the plankton lantern parade, and the magnificent shelter of stars. Our guide tells us that fireflies can live from two days to two months, mainly to reproduce. Talk about raging against the dying of the light! We learn that fireflies neither carry disease nor bite. They lead short, harmless lives, providing beauty while creating life. I am happy that the villagers from Palawan, particularly the youth, are actively protecting them. During their vacation, some students even train for taking tourists around on rowboats. It is humbling to know that my source of pleasure is also the source of livelihood of the community locals.

I return to the dock, as triumphant as a person back from the realm of the dead. I am alive with the certainty that though I will outlast the fireflies I have just seen, the inheritance of illumination continues. With people committed to caring for nature, the fire from these tiny creatures will blaze, blaze into the night.