We arrived in Lebak after a couple of hours of ragged joyriding along the scenic Upi-Lebak National Highway as darkness began to eat away at the remaining sunlight. We only had time to stretch our legs because, as soon as we shook off our cramps, we boarded a tricycle for a six-kilometer ride to the next municipality of Kalamansig. As if the breathtaking scenery on the way to Lebak wasn't enough, we saw the sun slowly fade away on the horizon as we passed by vast green rice fields. Rolling smoothly on the highway, I noticed the towering trees deeply rooted on both sides, their branches extending and touching each other in the center of the road. Looking up, I could already see the welcoming party.
No Danzig, but Us at Kalamansig
A Long Journey from Cotabato
It had been a long day since we arrived with the sunrise in the city of Cotabato aboard an Air Phil Express flight. With almost nada of a sleep the previous night, we walked out of the heavily guarded airport like a bunch of extras from The Walking Dead. All that was replaced, though, with newfound zest—as if we had downed a case of Red Bull energy drink—when we visited the Golden Mosque earlier in the day. During lunchtime, we were treated to a sumptuous meal at Pagana Kutawato by Miss Gurlie Frondoza, a tourism officer in Cotabato City.
Surprisingly, we discovered an inn right in the center of town. It's called JV Lodge, and it's run by a friendly marine who bluntly told us we were completely duped by the devious tricycle driver when we paid him one hundred fifty pesos from Lebak for what should have been only an eighty-peso ride. A warning light bulb flashed inside my head, reminding me that this was "Duped #2," with the first one being courtesy of our tricycle driver in Cotabato City, who had driven us straight from the airport to the Golden Mosque earlier.
We met up with Miss Zhea Apatan and Kana-Anne, both sweet girls who work for the Municipal Government—Zhea for the Information Systems Office and Kana for the Vice Mayor's Office. At 8:00 p.m., we ate dinner at the town's only remaining open establishment, which was located right beside the road. We discussed our plans for the next day as they enthusiastically promised to show us around their charming town.
For five hundred pesos, our room came with a functioning air conditioner, cable TV, and literally dozens of mosquitoes. I had planned to watch the second PBA game but had grown tired of the bites from our little room guests, so I just closed my eyes. Lauren, who was entirely exhausted from the day's travel, dozed off like a baby. An hour later, she'd be making toddler snoring sounds.
Morning at the Market and the Port
The next day began early at 5:30 a.m. when we first saw Kana, who lives near the lodge where we were staying. She took us inside their Municipal Hall, into the town plaza, and over to the mini zoo—the highlight of which was when one of the caged monkeys tried to steal Lauren's bag in two impossibly quick moves.
We met Zhea at the plaza and went directly to the market to get Pastil, a classic Mindanao delicacy made of steamed rice topped with savory flakes of chicken, beef, or fish, securely wrapped in a banana leaf. You could get a highly decent meal for just ten pesos each.
A small fish port next to the market is where we saw a lone boat unloading the morning's fresh catch. Kana informed us that the waters of the Moro Gulf and the Celebes Sea on the horizon of Kalamansig are deeply teeming with aquatic life. In fact, some of the massive tunas unloaded at the famous GenSan fish port each morning are said to have originally come from waters near Kalamansig.
White Beach and Shifting Perspectives
We ate breakfast at Poral Beach, where small nipa cottages have been built and some are still being constructed along the shore. The sands at Poral aren't completely crystal clear, but they're fine and powdery enough for a long emo-walk against the dramatic backdrop of a setting sun. But the primary spot we were heading to is called White Beach—a name quite common across the country. I genuinely believe Filipinos are so tired of having to creatively name beaches with blinding white sands and crystal-clear waters that they simply default to calling them "White Beaches."
Even though I'd been to many white beaches before, the bold prospect of swimming into one of Sultan Kudarat's finest beaches deeply piqued my interest. I never expected to be actively visiting this part of Mindanao just a few years ago. Back then, I wrongly imagined Mindanao as a war-torn island with violence raging left and right. A number of incursions—however brief—into Mindanao in recent years have completely changed that misguided perception.
At the beach, we spent half the day relaxing and practicing our freestyle and butterfly strokes. We learned more about our two local guides, just as they learned that I am not a Muslim. Because of my long beard, I just happened to look like one. We also learned that here in Sultan Kudarat, Muslims and Christians actually coexist peacefully—something which our mainstream media in Manila never bothers to report on.
It was a quick but incredibly pleasant trip to this part of the world. Lauren and I had a fantastic start to our six-day backpacking trip through Western and Northern Mindanao. Since she is leaving for Canada in a few days, it was critical that we create these memorable experiences together to catapult us into a looming long-distance relationship. In addition, we made a couple of great new friends. After we returned to Manila a week later, we learned from Zhea that she, too, is in the city to try her hand at working. And, yes, we fully intend to meet up with her before Lauren departs for Montreal.
Sukran, Sultan Kudarat.
This is part of a series about my week-long Mindanao backpacking trip in 2012:
