Second Ascend
At 5:30am, charismatic members converged at Gigi’s Payag donning in rubber shoes and sweatshirts. I was told that it wasn’t the Charismatic Community’s first climb. Most of the participants weren’t professional spelunkers so I presumed that the ascend will be easy enough. Boy, was I wrong. Our “shepherd” waved the flag, signaling us to venture forth. So the meek yet boisterous “sheep” did. From Kingswood Village, we took a short cut in Pinggan and proceeded to Tubod. Deeper in the treed vicinity, we started to snake through a river bed and at the foot of a hill, we began our climb.
The first ascend had gone wrong. We paved through an unbeaten, rough—and very dangerous—patch. We had to go all the way down to find our way back to the correct trail. After 45 minutes—which seemed like 2 hours—we had to stop by in a cottage for shade and to replenish our bodies with water. It helped to have brought ice! Mercy! Beads of sweat were trickling down our faces and the late morning had been glaring at us to slow us down. Our trail was pretty narrow that a drunkard, missing a step, could fall into his death. I am surprised at the bravery that most of the participants have shown. There have had been many stopovers and each was a crucial one. Our legs have had turned to jelly and when we descend, our knees would wobble. We barely had enough water to drink and our snacks were long gone since the first hour when we traveled.
We quickened our steps when we neared the peak. It was such a wonderful sight! To our left, cars sped past each other below in SRP and to our right, we could see Naga in all its splendor. And as if diamonds were splattered below, the magnificent ocean was brilliantly shining under the noonday heat. We rested under a tree and savored the view. Others unabashedly knocked on people’s shanties so they could ask for a drink. Three tried to pick lomboy fruits. To one’s surprise a moment later, he started growing itchy spots all over his body. Naturally, the girls had to whip their long hair to keep the poor soul from crying.
When we reached our destination, we prepared lunch: pancit, rice, and canned goods. The locals helped us with the cooking. While this is happening, the Arts & Crafts teachers were busy with their art lessons with the kids. They all got messy with the finger and hand painting session! Each kid got his and her own kit afterwards. After lunch, we heard “mass” inside the barrio’s chapel. They don’t have a priest there so they assigned a church leader to hold the mass for them. But it’s not the typical mass celebrated by the priest. There are certain limitations.
After the mass, the lads performed a special number which resulted to stifled laughs from the ladies. Wrapping up and on our way home, we saw a shocking view: kids literally running downhill! It was 45 degree slope and these mountain children effortlessly ran all the way to the bottom while we had to cling to rice crops, grass roots and the papaya tree to keep us from falling. On a semi-dry river bed, all murky with green algae, we treaded our steps towards what seemed like North and we kept going until we reach the a pool of fresh spring water. It was a waste not to have taken a dip. Imagine a basin of cool water. One can’t see the surface below and an army of leeches were visible but the charismatic members didn’t seem to care. After one more spring water pool stop over, we walked all the way until we reached the road that would lead us to the highway. After bidding adieu to the mountain children, who guided our steps, we finally stepped on a solid ground. Victory! And we thought that clinging on to twigs and vines for our dear life would never end! You can tell from the looks of their faces that people were tired but the gleam in their eyes showed what we’ve just gone through is something worth experiencing all over again! To boot, it was fulfilling to have served others in the name of the Lord. If I could turn the hands of time, I would’ve told myself to do the following:
The first ascend had gone wrong. We paved through an unbeaten, rough—and very dangerous—patch. We had to go all the way down to find our way back to the correct trail. After 45 minutes—which seemed like 2 hours—we had to stop by in a cottage for shade and to replenish our bodies with water. It helped to have brought ice! Mercy! Beads of sweat were trickling down our faces and the late morning had been glaring at us to slow us down. Our trail was pretty narrow that a drunkard, missing a step, could fall into his death. I am surprised at the bravery that most of the participants have shown. There have had been many stopovers and each was a crucial one. Our legs have had turned to jelly and when we descend, our knees would wobble. We barely had enough water to drink and our snacks were long gone since the first hour when we traveled.
We quickened our steps when we neared the peak. It was such a wonderful sight! To our left, cars sped past each other below in SRP and to our right, we could see Naga in all its splendor. And as if diamonds were splattered below, the magnificent ocean was brilliantly shining under the noonday heat. We rested under a tree and savored the view. Others unabashedly knocked on people’s shanties so they could ask for a drink. Three tried to pick lomboy fruits. To one’s surprise a moment later, he started growing itchy spots all over his body. Naturally, the girls had to whip their long hair to keep the poor soul from crying.
When we reached our destination, we prepared lunch: pancit, rice, and canned goods. The locals helped us with the cooking. While this is happening, the Arts & Crafts teachers were busy with their art lessons with the kids. They all got messy with the finger and hand painting session! Each kid got his and her own kit afterwards. After lunch, we heard “mass” inside the barrio’s chapel. They don’t have a priest there so they assigned a church leader to hold the mass for them. But it’s not the typical mass celebrated by the priest. There are certain limitations.
After the mass, the lads performed a special number which resulted to stifled laughs from the ladies. Wrapping up and on our way home, we saw a shocking view: kids literally running downhill! It was 45 degree slope and these mountain children effortlessly ran all the way to the bottom while we had to cling to rice crops, grass roots and the papaya tree to keep us from falling. On a semi-dry river bed, all murky with green algae, we treaded our steps towards what seemed like North and we kept going until we reach the a pool of fresh spring water. It was a waste not to have taken a dip. Imagine a basin of cool water. One can’t see the surface below and an army of leeches were visible but the charismatic members didn’t seem to care. After one more spring water pool stop over, we walked all the way until we reached the road that would lead us to the highway. After bidding adieu to the mountain children, who guided our steps, we finally stepped on a solid ground. Victory! And we thought that clinging on to twigs and vines for our dear life would never end! You can tell from the looks of their faces that people were tired but the gleam in their eyes showed what we’ve just gone through is something worth experiencing all over again! To boot, it was fulfilling to have served others in the name of the Lord. If I could turn the hands of time, I would’ve told myself to do the following:
- Set the right expectations and tell the participants how far the climb is, how dangerous, and how long it will take
- Bring more bottles of water and food
- Ask the participants to get into strenuous exercises—daily—at least a week prior to the climb.
- Warm up before the climb (to ensure elasticity of the muscles)
- Pair up one to another (buddy system)
- Come up with a clear game plan (activities)
- In a bigger crowd, assign more shepherds
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