Holy Road Trip 2007 - Day 2

Day 2 (Good Friday, April 6, 2007)

We woke up around 6:30am to the sound of kids running and playing around our tent contrasted by the welcoming sound of salt water slapping the white sandy beach of Sariaya, Quezon. We scanned the resort amidst the orangey silhouette of the rising sun and found a bit of a waiting line on the communal toilets as guests are starting to wake up with hang-over, trying to regain the memories of the previous nights passing-out rituals. The restaurant offered some hot instant coffee and bread which would be our first meal of the day. We spent a couple more minutes at the shore catching as much sun rays as we can to energize us for that day’s trip, packed our tent and quietly slipped out of the modest resort and jumped to our SUV.

En-route to Tayabas, Quezon to see the centuries-old Basilica Minore of St. Michael the Archangel, the longest Spanish colonial church in the country. The grandiose church façade indicated a visual feast that waits to amaze our eyes and will send our camera lenses to work. One of the churches in the Philippines declared as National Cultural Treasures, the basilica’s cross-shaped floor area is the biggest I’ve seen so far in my lifetime, and while this is my nth time to visit this particular church, it never fails to speed up my heart rate and inspire the ‘devout catholic’ in me just thinking about the importance of this magnificent piece of architecture, the culture and history it represents and the spirituality that it symbolizes. The church seven altars, ‘retablos’ and dome ceiling regurgitates with glorious neo-classical style and has remained largely intact after numerous renovations and restorations.

Lying on a slope of northeast of Mt. Banahaw, and standing at an elevation of 1,500 feet above sea level is Lucban, Quezon, our next pit-stop. Appropriately tagged as the ‘Summer Capital of Quezon’, and home of one of the Philippines most colorful and ingenious festival, the famed Pahiyas Festival (May 15). As we venture into a steady inclined road, we felt the urge to desperately turn off the air conditioner, open the windows of the SUV and savor the drizzly misty cold air amidst the blue skies and bright sunshine. Feeling the urge to doze off and just relish the brushing of the cold air on my smooth skin (haha) and just about the time I’m starting to snore, we got into a slowly moving traffic towards a crowd infested intersection of sorts. Vendors and stalls started to appear from the sidewalk selling everything from colorful foldable tourist hats to local delicacies and sharp deadly knifes. We just found out we're at the site of “Kamay Ni Hesus Healing Church” - the most recent attraction to hit the local catholic culture, the Stations of the Cross at Tinamnan Hills. This site has been attracting thousands of devotees who considers it as the country’s new mecca for the sick, with the provincial government following suit by adding it in their list of famous landmarks and communal pride since its inauguration on May 2004. Most prominent from miles away is the awe-inspiring sight of a 50-foot statue of the Ascending Christ, considered the third biggest in the world. After a turtle-pace approach to the crowded intersection, we finally passed the traffic and entered the town proper of Lucban.

Earlier during the climb, we were supposed to have an early lunch and pass by Kamayan sa Palaisdaan but we we’re disappointed to find out that they are closed on good Friday. I could almost feel the taste their sumptuous seafood meals on floating bamboo huts but I guess in the spirit penitence and mourning, we were made to endure another 45 minute climb and traffic towards the rustic town and settled to a less fishy but equally popular treat of the famous Pancit Habhab and Longganisang Lucban courtesy of Buddy’s Restaurant. Centrally located at the heart of the town, our seat at the restaurant gave us a good view of their Rizal Park, Patio Rizal Hotel, the Municipal Hall and the famous Dealo’s Bakeshop where you can find all the favorite delicacies of Quezon including broas, putoseko, copra and even the colorful leaf-shaped rice wafers called “kipings”. The town’s lunchtime patio scene reminded me of some romantic films shot in Paris depicting a cozy afternoon siesta landscape, complete with doves, fountains, statues and busy tourists taking pictures and sipping coffee around the park.

Walking around the church gave us a picturesque sampling of some local well preserved old houses, crystal clear waters flowing through road canals, devotees preparing the carozas and wooden saints for the traditional good Friday procession and of course locals making the staple Longganisang Lucban with it’s unique garlicky smell and taste.

The impressive edifice, bell tower and exterior of Lucban’s Church of St. Louis of Toulouse has maintained its quaint look and got its well deserved attention from our camera, its just too bad the church’s ‘well refurbished’ interior now lacks the rustic old look that would have made it a historian’s treasure.

As the time approached noon, we felt the urge to leave Lucban and head to a small quiet town of Sampaloc - en-route to our last stop for the day, my hometown residence in Mauban, Quezon. The irregular and mostly unpaved road to Sampaloc was a bit uneasy for an urban driver like Red. Steadily downward & zig-zagging in slope, ravenous cliffs & dewy rainforest added to a somewhat unwelcome but quite unique attraction of that particular part of the trek, though the route was relatively uneventful, it was nevertheless a bit creepy.

Sampaloc was a total opposite of the lively town of Lucban. In here we found a rather sleepy town devoid of any significant social activities happening at siesta time, the creepiness of the street scene reminded us of lonely cult-like towns usually depicted in the Shake-Rattle and-Roll Movie Sequels. We passed by the town chapel and there we found a couple-of-dozen of people preparing for their traditional Friday procession with their relatively small-sized carozas and wooden saints. We stayed for about 20 minutes scanning the church, the people and a handful of ‘tiangge’ selling cheap stuffs around the chapel. Then off the last portion of our trek.

The dusty road that links Sampaloc to Mauban traverses along the Maapon River and gave us a scenic and more pleasing view of a characteristic provincial countryside. We saw some river-control structures in-place and a rustic hanging bridge to please our lenses and test our thrill-seeking and adventurous nature, so we stopped and had a mini-photo shoot.

It took us a good 45 minutes to reach Mauban from the town of Sampaloc. We were greeted with the charming beauty of small progressive coastal town with a relaxing view and smell of the sea. Lamon Bay is located along the Polilio Strait traversing 16 Municipalities of Quezon, one of which is Mauban. It is considered as one of the top ten fishing grounds in the Philippines. We approached the pier and parked at the tip of Mauban’s break water. To the southwest is a panoramic view of the town of Mauban and to the east is the fascinating view of Lamon Bay and its bordering coastal towns of Alabat, Atimonan, Gumaca, Lopez, Perez and Plaridel. We stayed at the break water for 30 minutes, watched a man fish and await his first catch of the day. Took a picture of the pier and headed back to the center of the town where my modest home was located.

It was breathe of fresh air to see my folks still healthy and agile at their age. They gave us a warm welcome asking how the trip went along while we settled in one of the rooms of the house. It was about 1:00 in the afternoon when we decided to take a quick stroll of the town to buy some junk food. We found a small restaurant where halo-halo is served; we just hopped in the place and ordered, quenching our dried souls and throats. We then headed back home, took a quick shower and slept for about 3 hours before we were roused from sleep to prepare for the Good Friday procession.

My whole family and relatives are devout Catholics, attending holy week church activities is rule that has rarely been broken. We even own a wooden saint (St. Peter) and a caroza which was handed down to our generation from our great forefathers. And so holy week has always meant the family’s commitment to make sure St. Peter participates in the Good Friday procession. At 4:00pm Maubanin’s started trooping at the church and its major street Quezon St., we watched as the crowd steadily grew bigger and bigger until the street became impassable to tricycles and motorcycles. Armed with candles in varying colors and sizes, wearing the latest fads in conservative fashion, the street scene became an instant clutter of meet and greet session between old peers, ex-classmates, childhood friends, peers and relatives.

Personally, I look forward to these yearly gathering. It’s always good to see old faces, hear their voices, hear their stories and renew the long-been outdated memories of them in my mind. It never fails to knock the sense out of me and figure how fast time flies, how much we’ve grown, matured and how others have moved on so smoothly in their lives. I start comparing how my life moved so slowly while others seems so fast. I figured I needed these kind of conversations every once in a while to make me stand, to make me re-assess my goals and focus more on what my direction will be. I have loved the way it pressures me to move on.

It was an hour and a half wait for the start of the procession, fortunately, Roy got a good spot at the veranda of my folk’s ancestral home - right smack the entrance and exit of the church compound so he started clicking away with his Canon EOS 350D. There were literally thousands of people waiting on the streets and as the sun’s shadows started to fade, darkness started to creep in, and the candles started to serve its purpose, like stars illuminating the noisy night. The start of procession moved painstakingly at a snails-pace making its way to the overcrowded street and while it progresses, the people started to slowly move with the flow of the procession. The ranting slowly faded into the solemnity of footsteps, praying of the rosary and the occasional blare of generator set-on-wheels to illuminate the carozas. The 30-plus carozas took 2 hours to navigate the route of the procession which traverses the major thoroughfares of the town and appropriately ended back at the church.

Over the next 1 hour after our Caroza parked back at our garage, our front porch becomes a scene of a relief-goods distribution center, as hundreds of devotees and their families, who joined the procession, were fed with packed juices, pancit bihon and puto. Our sala and dining area however is a welcoming scene of a town fiesta while close relatives and friends partook in a meatless feast.

Halfway through the night, we felt the urge to lie down and rest, as I close my eyes to sleep, I did remember, today represents the day when Christ died on the cross, and I realized, this is also the busiest day of my year, a handful of church visited, dozens of rekindled friendship, a couple of new faces to remember, and as I think further… I passed out to a deep slumber.