BIRTHDAY IN BUKIDNON
MY BIRTHDAY BEGINS WITH A PRE-DAWN RUN THROUGH THE RAINFOREST
ALONG THE KAMALAON PARK IN MALAYBALAY,
CONTINUING TO MOUNT KITANGLAD TO “MKAVI”
January 19, 2003
It was pre-dawn when I left the BBH Guest House, waved to the guard and ran down the deserted street to the roads I had remembered when I could see them, but in the dark I had to guess which one would lead me to the municipal park named for the festival in March of the gathering of the mountain tribes of Bukidnon, the mountain province. I passed only a few people on my way out in the dark, since the population stirs around at sunrise. When I would encounter anyone, the instant response would be “Good Morning Sir!”
I entered the rainforest road, a rough pass with a bulldozer pushing through the green exposing the volcanic loam of the soil from the lava that marks the Philippine littoral. I still did not have light, but the sound of the birdsong greeted me as I ran along through the greenery. When I emerged, I could see the light dawning, and an older man was walking in as I came out. He turned around and said with some surprise, “You are alone in there?”
This is a safe place, so I can return to the run without the accompaniment of the security guard. With the press of the surgical work load and the encumbrance of the guard that would have to accompany me, I did not even try to run in the Tboli area. But, here, I can feel free to run, even alone through the rainforest before the light of dawn. It was a wonderful day to begin a celebration of my birthday, which has already been more noted than the last when I was “home alone.”
There was a problem with water leaks in the single bathroom, and after that problem was addressed, there was a problem with water that was not available. There still is no water for flushing, but water returned to the shower, which is heated by an electric coil that must be turned on only after the water is running and shut off before the water is shut down in order that the coil not be burned out. At my awakening with the sound of roosters, I thought that the day might be off to an ugly start if I had done the run I had hoped to do in celebration of my return to the exertion on my birthday, but then would have to stay sweaty and messy the rest of the day if there were no running water. But, as it has now turned out, there was water enough and time enough before breakfast to go through my ablutions so as to be reasonably presentable to the others who emerged for breakfast. Alan had returned from an overnight in Cagayan de Oro, and made a formal presentation in honor of my birthday. A certificate with careful reference to my other habits and hobbies had been signed by each of the participants. It reads
“Our heartfelt birthday wish!!!
May all your servers “serve
May all your attachments stay attached
May all your batteries stay charged
May your GPS never lose you
May your hunting trophies hang boldly in your cave
And
May you find another continent on which to run more marathons!!!”
Love: Your MMI Team Mates of 2003
It was made up in a computer printed certificate in a plastic document protector. This was made up under my nose without my noticing it since I was so elated that the emailing was actually working yesterday I did not know they were working on this certificate so that they could all sign it in time for my birthday. So, now, I am prepared for the next stage of our day of rest in Malaybalay, beginning with the return to the banana Plantation, MKAVI= Mount Kitanglad AgriVenture Incorporated.
THE TRIP TO MT. KITANGLAD
FOR CHURCH SERVICE AT THE BANANA PLANTATION;
THEN, “SHALL WE GATHER AT THE RIVER”
I had just come back from the run and breakfast, and had typed up the note above, when we were picked up by a pickup truck, with two benches in the bed of the pickup in which we sat to go bumping and swaying over the dirt road to MKAVI. There we had our formal introductions to the gathered group. Alan gave my introduction by first asking hem to sing “Happy Birthday” so about 400 people who may not have known me before joined in wishing me a Happy Birthday. Then Alan led the church service. I taped a bi t of it which I will forward with the report of “MIND-03”.
This Sunday was special for a number of people, 25 of whom would be baptized in the nearby river that flows through the tropical foliage of the MKAVI Plantation. Neal, the son of the founder and the current director, carried us down to the river, where we all gathered as one after another were immersed in the running water of the river in this splendid setting, and then we had a picnic lunch. One part of the lunch which was not the top of my list, was the “Black Soup.” This has a local name which means, roughly, “Blood and Guts.” The color is from the cooked blood of the “Lechon.” Also visible in the mix are the rather stringy remnants of the entrails. The roast pig is eviscerated, and the stuff removed, Along with the blood from the slit throat, is mixed back up into a stuffing in the body cavity. OK, most foodstuffs are an acquired taste.
I sat on a rock in the stream and ate the rice and chicken also offered and then came back up the steep volcanic loam hillside to look back at the river, recently crossed by an expertly crafted bamboo bridge. In the hot sun, we took a couple of farewell pictures and sat in the back of the stuffed truck for the hammering trip back over the bumpy roads. The trip lasted about three times longer than I would have wished, most of which I simply closed my eyes and got jostled. WE went through the planted rubber trees, with the cups beneath the herring bone scored bark where the oozing latex is collected. I had seen this last year in a similar trip to MKAVI, so I gave it a pass this year, and simply hunkered, eager for the bouncing, disorienting sideways travel to be over.
MKAVI is a very eco-friendly undertaking, and as a small part of the huge Chiquita enterprise, it won an award called the Golden Shell Award for export business—the first time a banana grower has won it. We carried several boxes of their product home, so we can dip into the boxes at any time and pull out yet another example of the fine fruits of the Philippine lava soil.
I am now back at Bethel in the Guest House, and a serenade of people singing songs in their native tribal tongues is going on outside my room. I now recognize the strains of a familiar song, so my birthday is being recognized once again—many times more than the last one when I celebrated it on a snowy day at home alone in Derwood. Aloneness is sometimes good, more often for me than for most of the compulsively social other members of this team whose means of making a living involves an accessory role in patient care. But, it is nice to hear that I am remembered, even if for the passage of a superior number of years!
Given the success of my previous attempt to email, I may run over to send this message, since I cannot imagine that the luxury of instant communication around the world is something I can take for granted—witness my colleagues’ recognition of this same fact from previous trials and errors commemorated above!