I met a traveler from an antique land
Who said: Two vast and trunkless legs of stone
Stand in the desert. Near them, on the sand,
Half sunk, a shattered visage lies, whose frown,
And wrinkled lip, and sneer of cold command,
Tell that its sculptor well those passions read,
Which yet survive, stamped on these lifeless things,
The hand that mocked them, and the heart that fed,
And on the pedestal these words appear:
“My name is Ozymandias, King of Kings:
Look upon my works, ye Mighty, and despair!”Nothing beside remains. Round the decay
Of that colossal wreck, boundless and bare
The lone and level sands stretch far away.

-Percy Bysshe Shelley
1792-1822

— I —

While in Bukidnon about two weeks ago, I picked out a book amongst its
dust-covered companions lining up the shelves of Villamayor residence.
There, in the heartland of Mindanao. I began turning a few pages into a
classic which has become required reading in many universities around
the world. It was The Lord of The Flies (LOTF) by William
Golding. The finding of the book couldn’t have been more appropriate:
the southern regions of the country are still home to rainforests.
Under its vast networks of unbroken shades, one could imagine himself "traveling back to the earliest beginning of the world, where vegetation rioted on the earth and the big trees were king", as Conrad did, while writing his seminal work, The Heart of Darkness.
Interestingly enough, the work of Mr. Golding bears spiritual
resemblance to Conrad’s. One could fashion a strong argument linking
both works and with latter inspiring the former in many stylistic
elements and themes.

Short as it is (Golding’s story), I didn’t progress through the entire
material straightaway. Instead, when I was afforded a little time
during breaks in my "adventures", I managed to maintain a
chapter-an-hour pace. When lulling myself to sleep, I managed to up it
a little. Thus, running (almost) parallel to my "enterprises" in
Mindanao, was the staggered course through the tale.

Similar to the characters in LOTF, while in Camiguin, I felt like a
child who suddenly found himself in no man’s land on the shores of an
uncharted island with only the jungle to look forward to opposite the
empty horizon. Because the land was home to active and
dormant volcanoes (seven in all), the rich soil has sustained a thick
cover of trees and other indigenous flora and fauna. Waterfalls are
dotted across region. Some are waterholes rooted in the earth’s hot
interior. Others have cooled off after they have sprung up from below.
Each could cater to even the most sensitive and discriminating skin. Some like it hot, as the title of Marilyn Monroe’s film suggests.

The island’s haunting mystical beauty was
mentally stimulating. At one point, with my eyes closed, I found myself
listening to the 250-feet crashing of water columns and the avian
chorus high atop the hidden cloisters.

— II —

The central thesis to Golding’s work is the gradual devolution of
morals. In the Conrad’s story, the ominous Kurtz has taken up an
extended residency in the Congo. The result has muted any lingering
compassion he might have had left. He has become a savage jungle lord (worshiped like a god
by the slaves) who routinely exacts bloody vengeance on his enemies.
Thus Marlowe, Conrad’s main protagonist, confronted by conflicting
portraits of the man (Kurtz), was wholly disturbed by the whole
experience.

In Golding’s story, it was loss of innocence that affected the children
marooned on the island, like a disease. What was damning about the tale
was that the disease isn’t a randomly transmuted infection that began
with one victim: it was a primal force that was awakened from the moment the children were isolated from civilization. It was fearsome and "unkillable". Anyone was likely to fall prey to this ancient beast. Throughout the novel, it has claimed many victims.

— III —

I would stay up late at night just thinking about the possibility that
madness and evil lurked about. It was ready to pounce unsuspectingly on
anyone who had suddenly become lost, whether due to becoming detached
from family/friends/anything that connects us to life (in this age of
reason), or by becoming exposed to a darker and malignant force.

While growing up, there were numerous stories of men growing mad while
spending months on the open sea, far from any sighting of land. There
were even rumors that people living in the mountain highlands were
excessively brutal and had a taste for blood and violence because the
law of the jungle dictated: eat or be eaten / kill or be killed. At
first, it sounded like mere exaggerations and oftentimes ridiculous,
but lately I’ve come to accept its unusual power as something very real
and quite probable.

If we could use literature for evidence, we would have enough examples:
from R.L Stevenson’s Hyde to M. Shelley’s Frankenstein. In these
stories, isolation has unleashed the darker forces that ultimately led
each to their respective ruin. In Hyde’s case, he was in fact the evil
that was always bound to Dr. Jekyll. They were in the same person. Hyde
was suddenly given complete freedom and control by a potion concocted
by Jekyll after venturing to study the inherent contradictions of human
nature. In Frankenstein’s case, it was his manic obsession to create
life and his inability to take responsibility for his creation that led
to his downward spiral. While venturing into the deepest mysteries of
life, he has distanced himself from his fiancee and friends. As a
result, his obsessive drive had been unchecked. As he progressed
further into his "life" experiments, little did he realize that life
was greater than the sum of body parts and lighting bolts and
sometimes, it is "lived" alongside your fellow humans.

"Tropical the island breeze
All of nature wild and free
This is where I long to be"
        —- sang by Madonna

— I —

There are a few places in this world where you’d believe it was heaven.

Unlike any other place, it (Heaven) is far less realized and experienced than hell which more often than not lurks behind just about every corner of our small square worlds. It finds a way insidethe diverse environments we attach ourselves onto.

Our lives are testaments to the constant struggle for survival, interrupted by a few moments of bliss whether through the people we share our world with, or, THE FORCE have mercy, ignorance. Even after promising ourselves (at the start of every ‘life cycle’) that we’d set our priorities right and begin making great strides in an effort to manage our time more precisely, it’s a Sisyphean exercise we set upon ourselves. We always get wound up in varying levels of pressure and end up tired, stressed, sporting the most pitiful expressions of yearning on our faces.

To be elsewhere, far from anything that reminded you of S.S.D.D*.

* SSDD = Same stuff. Different Day (PG 8 version)

For versions of SSDD that received higher ratings, Good luck, YOYO**.

** You’re On Your Own.

— II —

Every year we go out and attend the physics congress. We spend about three months preparing for it. This year, it was held in Davao, right in the southern coast of Mindanao.

Davao!

Mindanao!

The words reminded me: it has been ten years since I last set foot on the southern part of the archipelago.

It was an opportunity to return. But … it’s no free ride: You need a research paper and loads of hard-earned bread.

There was only a few months to raise a sizable amount and my prospects could only take me as far as Davao.

Beyond Davao was a different matter.

— III —

October 24

With half the required funds, a broken camera, and an on-loan old cellular phone, I boarded the 8:00 am plane to Davao.

Looking out from my window, I hope to forget the noise of Manila for a while. I had some "grants" approved for my trip but it was still under processing. It was anyone’s wild guess when it’d turn up in my account.

— IV —

Arriving 10 am at Davao city airport, small units of armed soldiers were camped every two blocks (almost). Apparently there were encounters between the government and its opponents recently. I was too busy packing stuff for the trip that I failed to read the current events digest on Davao. On the first checkpoint, I was asked (by a ranking officer) regarding my surname. They wanted to verify if I was on the official passenger list.

We (me and two companions) spent another 30 minutes looking for our hotel.

Funny, just like typical city-dwellers (especially from Manila), we started checking out the malls (Gaisano, NCCC, and SM). Some things never change.

With the conference due to start the next day, we spent the entire day charging our phones, cameras, and finishing up our power-point presentations but there was still time to learn our way around the city, brush up on my half-forgotten, elementary Cebuano dialect, and finish up in the bar beside our hotel: San Mig Light for them, Gatorade and C2 on the rocks for me… pulutan composed of kilawin, and some other fried seafood.

 

— V —

October 25

7:00 am, we woke up late . It’s still debatable whether it was due to light "hangovers" or cable TV.

I checked the ATM, still no sign of an overnight "boost" in my account.

33 Pesos on a cab took us to Ateneo de Davao where the congress was held.

The staff working on the registration desk lost my printed ID so gave me a handwritten one.

Lucky me.

We were late so we proceeded immediately to the auditorium for the welcome remarks as well as the plenary session of Tien Tsong a leading scientist in the Nanoscientific fields. He is also the current president of the Association of Asia Pacific
Physical Societies (AAPPS), of which, our very own Philippine Physics Society (PPS or Samahang Pisika ng Pilipinas, SPP) was a member. He’s one of the guys who have seen what atomic structures looked like back in the late 50s or 60s. His talk was entitled "50 years of Seeing Atoms". Nuff said.

One of the nicest thing about these physics congresses is the emergence of younger scientists. Shown here are participants coming from our research lab. Each one of them has a research paper to present in the following days.

They are the true stars of this show.

October 26

The youth in this congress make a strong case for investing in science and technology in the country.

… they try hard to convince the old regime and the skeptical lot.

… they have an excellent grasp of emerging scientific theories

… their reserves of energy allow them to have fun, learn, and educate others at the same time.

… apart from the youth and the change of venue, everything remains the same. Business as usual.

— VI —

During the fellowship night, I found out why a camera with a broken LCD monitor transforms your digicam into its older analog counterpart.

You take lots of shots but you’ll never know what you’ll get until the prints come out.

My sister had the foresight of investing in a 1 gigabyte multimedia memory card after the LCD got damaged to insure that a shotgun approach to photography increases the likelihood of a having one good shot after several attempts.

The following sums up everything about the cam.

… Too bad, I couldn’t capture her smile as she began to serenade geeks.

… They’re really into it.

… At first I thought he’d start a joke involving a guitar.

… "Deal or No Deal" rendition involving quintessential physicists.

… What they were about to do … your guess is as good as mine.

… An unfinished business. Years later, the match between the two is still as popular as it was then.

… obtaining grace from the guardian of the temple for tomorrow’s sessions.

— VII —

October 27

… My co-author Erika and Tons (both are my labmates at UP).

… It was my turn to take a stand. Literally.

… Ganni’s Back Part 2

… Geeks do fall in love with each other. The girl is geekier. Honest.

… Ateneans.

… The Boyz. The Head Honchos.

… Either I’m talking to the Great White Board or trying out the freebie laser pointer.

… Taking a break in-between sessions.

… The violet undershirt does wonders…

… MASTER and master plus shi on the background.

… She’s 15 years old and already about to graduate with a Physics Degree. Genius.

The conference was officially over by 5:00 pm. By 8:00 pm I rendezvoused with some friends at a different dorm. We initially intended to catch the night-trip to bukidnon but it has been deemed unsafe so we decided to catch the 5:00 am trip (on the following day) instead.

— VIII —

October 28

The Road to Camiguin: Part I - Bukidnon

Lot’s of fruit. Temperature lower than Baguio. Land of Del Monte and Durian.

… Arriving at the Villamayor Hacienda/Farm Malaybalay, Bukidnon just in time for breakfast.

… A happy coincidence, they were having Lechon!

… Catnapping Christian: Ma-o ni siya nga Kinabuhi. THIS IS THE LIFE.

… Gratuitous Mouth-Watering Shot of the Villamayor Land fruits.

— The End (?!?) —

Unfortunately, I’ve reached my file-upload limit this month. So we stop here with a preview:

… Sunset Kung-fu at the White Island, less than a kilometer off the coast of Camiguin Island.

… Tune in next month for further updates. Camiguin Island was a BLAST!!!!