And I thought that was the last sequel on my Bicol Holiday! 🙂

From CWC in Pili, Camarines Sur,  we first passed by 2 Churches in Naga before driving back to Manila.  A quick breakfast after, and we were on our way.  Having driven from Manila to Bicol via the Tiaong-Sariaya route, we chose to take a detour via the Tayabas-Lucban-Majayjay-Nagcarlan-Calauan route on our way back.  This way, we circled around Mount Banahaw before reaching the more  familiar  SLEX.

Truth be told,  I was itching to have lunch at Kamayan sa Palaisdaan  in Tayabas, Quezon.  The day of the Pahiyas Festival in  Lucban, Quezon , we passed by this eating place then crowded with far too many merrymakers.  The idea of dining on a floating raft appealed to me.  It should also be something novel for the grandchildren too.  You think I spoil them?  Naaah.  Just that I love keeping score of doing many “firsts” with them not-so-little-ones.   I look back at my childhood years, which are by and large kind of blurred now,  and remember mainly the “first times”.   So, let us just say I want to be remembered by these elves via these many “first times”.

Palaisdaan @Tayabas, Quezon

On full stomachs,  we decided to shake off some of those calories by visiting Kamay ni Hesus in the next town of Lucban, Quezon.   No, we did not walk all the way up.  Not enough energy for that.   But we stayed and walked long enough to feel a few calories lighter after visiting the Church ,  the souvenir shop , and saying our prayers.

Majayjay Church in Laguna

From Lucban,  we saw signs pointing left if one were to drive towards Majayjay, Laguna and pointing right if one were to drive towards Sta. Cruz, Laguna.   I made the decision to turn left.  And boy, was that one truly winding road around Mount Banahaw.  It may be the next town crossing from Quezon to Laguna, but forget Kennon Road.  Forget the “bituka ng manok” drive from Quezon to Bicol,  this is one LONELY drive towards Majayjay.  Lonely because we must have spotted only a couple of cars on the same winding road.  The public buses and jeepneys must have turned right, ei?  Well, they know better!

Inside Majayjay Church

Initially, we were awed by sights of Mount Banahaw and rice paddies laid out like mini rice terraces.  Not for long.  We were so eager to hit town after that lonely drive.  Ravines galore, I’m telling ya.   Never again.  You bet we all heaved a sign of relief when we found Majayjay Church, and most fervently said our prayer of thanks.

Beautiful Majayjay Church!

From Majayjay is another winding route towards Nagcarlan. Whoa, we are truly circling Mount Banahaw.   But this one’s more manageable.  Another 18th century church begging for an honest preservation job.  For sure,  these Churches are truly our heritage. No temples, no pagodas.  We have our Churches!  Ironically though,  I find half-hearted efforts , if at all, to preserve these heritage sites.  Breaks your heart.   😦

Nagcarlan Church

Thinking the Nagcarlan Underground Cemetery is right beside the Church,  we parked nearby.   Finding none, we asked the locals for directions.  Not too far away is the Underground Cemetery, another heritage site.  It was getting dark by this time and it started drizzling.   I didn’t ask the kids to go with me as I thought they’d find the place creepy.  Never mind that the underground crypt is a former secret meeting place among the revolutionaries then, and thus part of history.  With my nephew-in-law, I jumped out of the car and entered the “compound”.   There was a small chapel. No signs.  No directions. But we found a non-descript door leading to a stairs which we took to go to the underground crypt.  It is rather small, much to my disappointment.  Poorly lit,  it can certainly give you goose bumps.  We didn’t stay very long.  In fact, we had to hurriedly climb up as we heard some clanging sounds from the ground floor.   As it turned out,  it was 5 in the afternoon of a Friday night.   “Shop is closing”.   The caretaker, or gatekeeper was busy locking up the place for the weekend.  That , without checking if there was anyone down below?????

Nagcarlan Underground Cemetery

By the time we got out and ready to drive away,  we snapped one last photo of the Nagcarlan Underground Cemetery.  With that unconcerned gatekeeper putting the lock on the gate.  Imagine how it must be spending a weekend here.  Yay!  Now that would make for an interesting episode! 🙂

EXCUSE ME, DON'T LOCK US UP!!!!

Having visited the Rizal Shrine in Fort Santiago and having read, this time with more meaning and passion,  Rizal’s “Mi Ultimo Adios”,  I am all the more inspired to know our very own hero.  Where best to start but in his very hometown!

A man of many talents.  With the power of his pen, he stirred hope, courage and patriotism.  On a more personal level,  he drew inspiration as I now find myself on a quest to know him more.  Not as a national hero, but as the person he once was.  I want to know my Rizal as the poet par excellance.  I want to know what inspired him. What he saw as a little boy each time he looked out of the window of their big house in Calamba.  Why he called his dog Verganza.  What games he played.  What tricks he taught Verganza.   I want to know what was on his mind when he wrote those letters and poems with so much passion.

For sure, he wasn’t into poverty born.  The ancestral house in Calamba, Laguna attests to the stature of the Mercado Family at that time.   Yes, Mercado.  It was only when he started going to Ateneo that his brother, Paciano, decided to have him adopt the family name “Rizal” .   There is a story to it, but I am not dwelling on that.  The photo above somehow gives a good summary.  There is also a story on the meaning of Rizal (green rice stalks?) but I’m not going into that either. Nor why the house was given a fresh paint of green.

I want to know my Rizal as he was growing up.  With his dog Verganza in this big house in Calamba, Laguna right across the town church where he was baptized.   There was even a bronze statue of the young boy Rizal, aged 8-10 years old, with his dog in the lawn of the ancestral house that could only belong to an illustrado.   In the same lawn were the gravesites of his father and mother, whose remains were exhumed from North Cemetery, and reburied here.   Why North Cemetery?  It was only now that I learned that the family was forced out of this beautiful house soon after the execution of our national hero.  Having settled in the Chinese community in Binondo, Manila,  Rizal’s parents never had a chance to return and reclaim their lovely house in their lifetime.  They died, and were buried in North Cemetery.

Was he a good kid?  Was “tinola” really his favorite dish?   Was there another poet or novelist in the family?  I remember an old friend of mine, who had a writer/poet for a brother.  He recalled those days spent in the farm with his brother,  wasting time playing with the carabao,  or eating lunch of rice and dried fish under a mango tree,  or simply taking those afternoon naps while enjoying the afternoon breeze.  Same experiences.   Same childhood memories, he says.   Nearly the same age.  Yet this old friend of mine is amazed at how his brother can recount those experiences with so much poetic candor and eloquence.  As he puts it,   “he must be a hardcore romantic” to see the many hues of green of the fields,   to feel the wind wafting through the bamboo trees which bend ever so gracefully,  to sense the rhythm of the night sounds from a choir of insects, to feel the lullabye created by the afternoon breeze before dozing off to dreamland.   Yes,  Gat Jose Rizal must be a hardcore romantic himself.    A hero he was.  Is.  A romantic one at that.  For sure,  my quest would start with the love letters and poems he wrote and sent.   😉

Consider this a sequel to an earlier blog entry  to the Pinoy Travel Bloggers’ Blog Carnival on the theme  “Rizal and Travel” hosted by Ivan Henares of Ivan About Town .  My earlier entry is titled ” Say Hello to Mi Ultimo Adios” .