As a spectator many times over of numerous Philippine festivals in the past, I still overflow with enthusiasm each time I witness a new one. After experiencing the Ati-Atihan three times and the Sinulog twice already, I’ve had more than enough dose of fun from those twin-festivals honoring the Sto. Niño. However, I’m always game to immerse in the different vibe of other lesser-known festivals in the country. Camarines Norte’s Busig-on Festival isn’t just previously unknown to me, it also has an interesting backstory involving a widely retold local story. Therefore, during my 8-hour bus ride to the province, I already visualized the kind of frenzy atmosphere that awaits me.

Busig-On Festival is celebrated every first week of September in Labo, Camarines Norte. As a town lavished by the abundant waters of Labo River, it follows naturally that all commercial and even cultural activities of the town would center on their revered river.

This is also another reason why a contemporary story was written centering on a mythical character named Busig-On. The name of the leading protagonist was derived from the Bicolano word “Busig”, which means “Water” and “on”, which translates to “plenty”. Thus, the name Busig-On directly translating to “plenty of water” in reference to Labo River.

The epic tale written by Dr. Carlos C. Galvez charts the exploits of Busig-On and Princess Maraya. Despite coming from two combatant tribes, the two fell in love with each other. After they got married, their warring tribes forged a peace agreement. 

Soon, the couple bore a son named Tarik-Kuduok, who inherited the leadership role when his parents died. A great famine dried much of the land and to save his people from further misery, Tarik summoned spiritual guidance from the departed Busig-On to help his people.

Unlike most epic tales, the epic of Busig-On dishes a happy ending as the vast dry land was soon filled by water. Natural pools formed until it grew bigger and flowed downstream to fill other tributaries. Not long after, inhabitants enjoyed an abundant source of livelihood through fishing and much needed source of farming irrigation.

That body of water gave birth to Busig-On river, which is now the main tributary of Labo River.

What it lacks in matching the bounteous energy of the Ati-Atihan, Sinulog and the Dinagyang Festivals in the Visayas, the Busig-On Festival made up for it with an easy-going revelry while retaining the colorful characteristics of other popular Philippine Festivals. The crowd was evenly scattered through the long sidewalks and it seems everyone can dive right in into the action and partake on the street carousing—much like the Ati-Atihan but in a smaller scale.

As a photographer, I savored the laid-back celebration as I was able to take decent photographs of the performers up close. You could feel that Busig-On Festival is every bit of a small-town fiesta. It teams with its own unique allure and bursting with intimacy that seem to draw the locals tightly bonded with each other. 

Like in most festivals in the country, the drumming beats are still as loud as they can be, the costumes popping with colors, and the choreography wildly entertaining. You can say Philippine Festivals are all “same-same but different”, because as you pinpoint several similarities you can also sense a myriad of variances.

As I watch the performers adorned with flamboyant costumes perform the interpretive dance of the Epic of Busig-On through the streets, I picked up a thing or two about some of the town’s traditions like the act of courtship, fish harvesting and their forever act of homage to Busig-On river. Because as never-ending the streams coming from Busig-On river will remain, the resolve of the townsfolks to meet any challenges that come their way, shall also remain steadfast. What better way to celebrate that kind of resiliency than through a madly pulsating festivity.

I remember being envious of my then-girlfriend years ago, when she went on a solo backpacking to Tawi-Tawi and hiked the Bud Bongao. Not only is the mountain located in the southernmost province of the Philippines, it is also considered as a sacred peak. Two preachers mentored by Karim ul-Makhdum–the Arab missionary who brought Islam to the Philippines in 1380–are said to be buried in Mt. Bud Bongao in a location called the Tampat Rocks.

Since I love a hike to the mountains especially sacred and historic ones such as Mt. Sinai in Egypt, imagine my delight upon learning that our party of travel writers who covered the Agal-Agal festival, will have a side-trip to Bud Bongao.

A Bud Wiser

The name of the mountain was derived from the Tausug word Bud, meaning mountain and Bongao–the name of the island where it is located. A pilgrimage site for both Muslims and Christians, Bud Bongao towers 1,030 feet above sea level overlooking the 250-hectare tropical forest inside the Bongao Peak Eco-Tourism Park–a protected biodiversity site.

"This nature park was one of the chosen model sites of the New Conservation Areas in the Philippines Project or NEWCAPP–which was a 5-year project implemented by the Biodiversity Management Bureau in 2012" says Ayesha Dilangalen, the former ARMM DOT Secretary.

Characterized by six limestone pillars that make up Bud Bongao's ragged six crests, the summit summons a breathtaking scenery of several islands and small towns of Tawi-Tawi.

As someone who loves the great outdoors, the relaxed hike to the top of Bud Bongao afforded me a front-row seat of viewing one of the few remaining moist forest in the country. Cap it off with learning additional tidbits about the mountain–its connection to the history of Islam in the Philippines–the afternoon hike we had also made me a little bit wiser.

The Long-tailed Guardians

On the way to the top, you will get amused or frightened by countless playful long-tailed Macaques. Fortunately for us, we all had a blast being entertained by these adorable creatures moonlighting as the guardians of the sacred Bud Bongao.

Similarly mischievous as the ones I encountered during my hike in Dambulla, the macaques on this mountain seem to study us with deadpanned stares, as if judging our characters if we are worthy of hiking the mountain. Fortuitously, none from our party were barred for rambling and they let us on our way albeit after an inducement in the form of bananas.

Their presence made the hike under the torrid sheen of the sun a lot bearable. Along the trail, I would sit under the shade of a tree for a brief rest and as if on cue, dozens of them would show off their vine gymnastics skills.

A Hallowed Highland

Our guide told us that as recent as a couple of years ago, tying plastic strips on tree branches are widely practiced by both Muslim and Christian pilgrims as an offering to the sacred Bud Bongao. This tradition has now been prohibited in order to safeguard the natural appeal of the mountain.

As we approach the final assault to the peak, we passed by the two sacred tombs of Muslim Imams who were the disciples of Karim ul-Makhdum. Even as a non-Muslim and a non-practicing Catholic, I stopped by and paid my respect by offering a short prayer. I expressed my gratitude to God for showering me another burst of good karma that made it possible for me to finally set foot in Tawi-Tawi.

As I alight out of the forest and my vision revealed the blue waters of Celebes Sea and the green ridges of its neighboring peaks, I elated at the culmination of an hour and a half trek. After years of having this wanderlust desire, I finally understand why my then girlfriend waxed romantically and poetically about her encounter with Bud Bongao, the blessed mountain.