Travel & Tourism H-3H-2 Sunday, November 28, 2010

Editor 

ISABEL C. DE LEON

 Assistant Editor 

MALOU E. ROSAL

Section Editors

Fashion / i  • JOYCE L. FERNANDEZ

Home & Garden • DENNIS LADAW

Dining • GENE GONZALEZ

Wellbeing • ROWENA BAUTISTA-ALCARAZ

Moms & Babies • AMYLINE Q. CHING

Travel & Tourism • Occasions • Arts & Culture

lease do not take

photos without a

proper ritual...we

do not want you to

be harmed,“ Boyet

Reyes, a Manobo

 who approached us from a small wood-

en boat, quietly told us in the vernacular.

Though said in a non-threatening man-

ner, it got our attention.

We were loudly taking group photos,

having just landed on soft earth after

more than an hour’s traverse through

the marshland via boats. I moved away,

transfixed at the surreal vista before

me. I’ve been hoping to explore Agusan

Marsh and its wilderness for a long

time. In my personal quest and capac-

ity to roam Mindanao and promote its

unexplored beauty, I have yet to see

one of the Philippines’ largest and most

ecologically significant wetlands.

The Agusan River Basin, located

in the northeastern part of Mindanao,

is the third largest river basin of the

Philippines (river length of 350 kms,

and total drainage area of 10,921 square

kilometres). That day, I was inside the

 Agusan Marsh Wildlife Sanctuary (Bu-

nawan, Agusan del Sur), declared as a

Protected Area by virtue of Presidential

Proclamation No.913 (Oct.13, 1996), and

covering an area of 19,197 hectares.

It is also a recipient of Ramsar Site

Certificate (No. 1009 from a list of 1,923)

on November 12, 1999 as a Wetland of

International Importance.

 At five in the morning, along with

students who won a field trip through an

essay writing competition, we boarded

low passenger boats while I was given

the rubber boat used for rescue pur-

poses. I joined this trip upon request

because of an invitation to be one of the

 judges of an ongoing photo competition

about it.

We entered the river at the crack

of dawn, and as the boat pushed off

noisily in the dark, chilly wind pushed

against our faces. Nothing but the roar

of engines could be heard, and ripples of

disturbed waves. Ten minutes of peace-

ful journey through a thickening swamp

forest, my hair went damp and my equip-

ment began to moisten. We were enter-

ing a scene from  Avatar  or  Anaconda,

depending on your wild imagination

and fear of murky swamps. A heavy, cool

mist permeated throughout the stream,

making the environment more dream-

like and unnatural. We passed thick,

strange silhouettes of menacing trees

shaped into gargoyles with branches

reaching out to you like claws. I was

internalizing my National Geographic

moment (if you wish for this job long

enough and dramatize it badly, they will

find you), poised with my two cameras,

making sure I missed nothing.

When the sun crept through dense,

cold haze, an orangey glow gave a dif-

ferent dimension of time and place in

the past. Great, no Photoshop needed to

even recreate this sepia scenario! After

more than an hour’s trip, we docked on a

riverbank and walked (saw an unbeliev-

ably huge okra in a garden patch!) until

 we came across a vast field of lily pads.

Farther ahead, migratory birds said

to be flocking at these time of months

 were hopping serenely upon water lilies.

Occasionally, a white long necked bird

identified as the Purple Heron alighted

gracefully on topmost tree branches.

We have now reached Sitio Panlabuhan,

Municipality of Loreto, the next town

after Bunawan.

But we go back to Boyet. The Mano-

bo datu, with his religious belief that

revolves around unseen spirits naturally

protecting their habitat and intruding

in human activities especially when

provoked, was speaking from the heart.

He introduced himself as the leader

of the floating community we inadver-

tently intruded upon, and would like to

urgently appease ancestral spirits by

lighting a candle, if we so willingly join

him. Inside the floating wooden school’s

empty classroom, we surrounded him

as he closed his eyes and prayed for our

safety in all activities while asking for

forgiveness at our awkward disturbance.

The small flickering candle on the table

indicated many pacifying ceremonies, as

its melted form was nearing its end.

Surreal and Breathtaking

Agusan Marsh

We dug through our bags and placed

peace offerings on the table with the

candle – coins, flattened Jollibee burg-

ers, biscuits, mineral water, Coke and

Tanduay bottles bought from a nearby

outlet. Outside, the mist had suddenly

cleared. Before us was a breathtaking

panorama of a vast lake whose reflec-

tions mirrored incredibly clear blue

skies and cloud formation. It was abso-

lutely, unbelievably a photographer’s

paradise. The ancestors were placated.

My companion whispered, “We should

bring them candles next t ime.”

Boyet took me out to the lake (Buk-

ogon and Kobasayon have merged

 with Lake Kaningbaylan to form a big

body of water), two of us squeezed in a

narrow wooden vessel that barely fit

my hips. It was a very quiet, calming

atmosphere. Boyet regaled me with

stories as we leisurely headed towards

thicker blankets of lily pads. His com-

munity is composed of 20 houses and

families. Birds and ducks were freely

roaming around, probably among the

listed 127 bird species identified by the

Haribon Foundation in 1999 (10 of which

are threatened, and 31 endemic to the

country), apart from visiting species

avoiding winter in China, Japan, Russia,

and other countries. A Brahminy kite

(red brown sea-eagle) soared through

skies and I snapped a few shots before

it disappeared into an eerie looking for-

est swamp whose trees are covered in

mossy vines.

Boyet’s grandfather had told him

that in order to survive in this settle-

ment, you must have an anting-anting

(amulet, like a crocodile tooth) for safety

and protection. He talked about lone

tourists who dropped in unannounced

and unaccompanied. Unexplained mis-

haps occurred (near drowning, injury,

body pains, and other accidents). Years

ago, one known celebrity with a TV

show arrived with an environmental-

ist/photographer whose rolls of films

 were destroyed when they went home.

 A mysterious ailment would seize an

unlucky visitor, prompting him to come

back and beg for healing with tribal lead-

ers. All he wanted was respect for his

forefathers and ancestral domain.

His was one of several small com-

munities scattered in the vast marsh

land. Often, with the rise and fall of

the tide due to seasonal changes, their

homes would adjust, docked on bamboo

poles underneath and strapped to trees

 with ropes. In a sanctuary where many

undiscovered species dwell, life was

uncertain for them as well. Last year,

the controversy of a 10 year-old girl

 whose head was bitten off by a “monster

crocodile” (bite marks on the bayto  --

Manobo  dialect for banca, pronounced

beyto -- leave morbid imprints on dis-

play) prompted the whole community

in Lake Mihaba to be evacuated. After

a few months, the houses were back, be-

cause they know of no other way of life.

Stories of “Putol” abound, a notorious

and legendary 30-foot croc said to have

once been captured but had escaped

sans one arm, still lurking underneath

deep swamps.

Food and supplies are brought to

them by a komprador  (seller) who

comes in regularly. Their diet consists

of fish (carp, tilapia, catfish), frogs and

kuhol  (snail) and vegetables, or what-

ever is found in the rivers and lakes.

Several floating houses we passed by

 were simple, others were more colour-

ful. Some created flower gardens on

 windows whose houses were already

buoyant within a bog of water hyacinths

and ferns. In Boyet’s community of

Lake Kaningbaylan, in the old munici-

pality of Loreto, the floating school was

sadly empty of students, because there

 was no budget for a teacher this year.

Tourists do not regularly drop by their

area because there are more accessible

floating communities.

 Asked what their past time was,

Boyet replied, “Paminsan guapo ang

signal sa TV  (sometimes the TV signal

is good)...unta karong Pacquiao fight

makatanaw pud mi   (hopefully, this

coming Pacquiao fight we can view it

clearly)”.

On our way back to Bunawan, we

passed by locals on the riverbanks,

some doing laundry, cleaning boats or

giving their carabaos a bath. Children

 were swimming, others curiously peep-

ing from windows. Each time we waved

our hands, shouting “Maayong adlaw,

agi lang mi! (Good day, just passing

by!)”, they cheerfully waved back with

smiles. My rubber boat captain pointed

to a narrow, dense tributary which

leads to the crocodile sanctuary. He

asked if we would like to go there. We

didn’t have much time left to go back

to Davao. However tempting it was, I

 wasn’t Crocodile Dundee, and I was in

their territory.

 An old friend of mine who grew up

there used to swim in the once clean and

clear river during his childhood. He was

also given a baby croc for a pet which es-

caped eventually. Today, you are lucky

to spot two or three crocs at the most,

heads barely bobbing on the surface

before disappearing into the muddy

chocolate-colored river. While they have

kept their distance, the locals made

respectful efforts by imposing a curfew

–no swimming and fishing between 6pm

to 6am, the most active time for these

nocturnal reptiles, most of which are

already threatened species.

In the very heart of this enormous

 wetland may live the amazing “Wonder-

land” (a vast peat land of remarkable

dwarf trees whose heavy roots serve

as floating anchors, you have to step on

them slowly to reach into the thicket), a

diversity of fish, animals, birds, flora and

herbaceous plants, fresh water turtles

and endangered reptiles, and 59 of the

most scenic lakes, including shallow

ponds, rivers and rice paddies. Here ,

human beings also thrive within the

environment, trying to sustain their way

of life by coexisting in harmony with a

shifting habitat that surrounds them.

Outside their world, they are being

closed in by illegal logging, destructive

mining, and other manmade threats that

drive an old ecological system askew (or

a territorial croc to go berserk).

I ask myself, am I writing this article

to promote a beautiful refuge I want

others to experience, but inwardly hop-

ing to shield it away from opportunistic

exploiters? Or am I writing to create

awareness of a dying paradise before

it is too late? I am wondering myself,

even as I already have plans of going

back there again soon.

* * * *

(Jojie Alcantara is a travel pho-tojournalist and long time columnistbased in Davao City. A photograp her,solo traveller and an artist, she hasbeen writing and painting before sheexpanded her world through images.Exploring unknown islands in thearchipelago armed with her Canoncameras and asthma inhalers, herfascination keeps her rooted to hercountry and wishes everyone cansee its stunning beauty from herperspective. She shares her skillsthrough workshops, publications,exhibits and contributing materialsfor Mindanao tourism. Visit www.pbase.com/jojie_alcantara).

“P

Floating house

Text and Photos byJOJIE ALCANTARA

Agusan Marsh is a photographer's paradise

A foating house is tied to a tree and rises high depending on the water level

Boat trips in the early morning mist

Life in the marshland

Lake Kaningbaylan

Best to wake up early morning to catch sunrise in a mist