Makiling Ruminations

Last weekend proved to be a most memorable one. 11 teachers from RMM (myself included) were sent to the Boy Scouts of the Philippines Basic Training Course for teachers at Jamboree Hall, Makiling, Los Baños. If we passed all the requirements, we would be recognized as certified patrol leaders.

      I thought I was in for good, clean fun... leisurely strolls through mountain trails, breathtaking scenery, inhaling copious amounts of fresh air, singing “The hills are aliiiiiive”... you get the picture.

      Boy oh boy, I was in for the shock of my sheltered life.

      They fed us a huge lunch when we first arrived last Friday. Lots of adobo and 1 ½ cups of rice for each person! I pretty much felt like a pig being fetéd before being led to the slaughterhouse. I wasn’t far off the mark.

      That hearty meal was followed by several hours of lectures on the history of the Boy Scouts, the mission-vission, the oath, etc. We were also split up into patrols or troops, where I was put in Kantanod (the others were Kambing, Kuting, Kabayo, Kulasisi, etc.) and taught the basics of getting into formation (Basically it involves a lot of “find-your-height,” following hand signals, and running as if the hounds of Hell were after you once you hear the whistle blown by the Scout Commander). When our brains were protesting from too much information at around 9 p.m. we were allowed to march into the Mess Hall to eat dinner with our patrol.

      (For the non-initiates, the patrol is a boy scout’s family. They eat, sleep, and do everything together. So if one patrol member had to go to the loo and was absent from the mess hall, the whole patrol had to stand up and wait for the tardy member to arrive before finally settling down to eat.)

      Mealtimes at the mess hall were hurried affairs, with the Scout Commander yelling out every minute or so: “Ayokong makakita ng tira! Ubusin niyo LAHAT!” It’s pretty hard to consume everything on one’s plate if 1) You are eating on banana leaves, without the use of fork and spoon, and 2) the ulam or viand is tuyo (dried fish). Plus the knowledge that if one eats slower than the others, that person will have caused the whole patrol to wait for him. It’s impossible to fully enjoy a meal in such conditions!

      That first night was “Socialization Night,” and we were allowed some time to practice our patrol numbers before performing in front of everyone. Our patrol was blessed to have two extremely talented dancers in our midst (Go MAPEH teachers!!), and so we did “Bayan Ko” with me singing while the others did a patriotic tableau to frame the two lead dancers. I say this objectively, our performance would have been fit to grace the halls of Manila Cathedral for Tita Cory. J And hurray! Our patrol won the best performance award, along with the best dancer and best singer awards. We proudly stapled our little paper medallions to our troop flag.

      We thought the evening was over at midnight, but no! We were told that we had to fix our “Patrol Corners” on the walls of the Session Hall because the Scout Commanders would look at them tomorrow at 5 a.m. So we got out our manila paper and pentel pens, and wrote down the Scout Oath, the Troop Mission-Vision, the Boy Scouts of the Philippines Mission, the Troop Song, the Troop Yell, the Troop Cheer, the Troop medallion, etc.       (One thing that I disliked... while we participants were slaving away, the Scout Commanders took turns swigging from the flasks of alcoholic beverages that they brought, and serenading us at the karaoke machine with voices loud enough to wake the dead. Am actually surprised that Maria Makiling didn’t swoop down and silence them! I would have. And they continued to sing away as we dragged our tired bodies to bed at 2 a.m.)

      Before 6 a.m. we were up again, this time to finalize the decorations on our Patrol Corners and to practice our Troop Song, Yell, Cheer and Skit for the Campfire later on that night.

      Breakfast was another hurried affair. One of my patrol mates had peptic ulcer and requested permission not to finish off his large breakfast. The Scout Commander yelled, “Wala akong pakialam! Maghanap ka ng paraan para ubusin yan.” Poor thing. I had to help him hide the remains of his tuyo and kanin in an empty brown folder and stuffed it in my shoulder bag (which smelled of tuyo the rest of the weekend).

      The day passed, a big blur of lectures and workshops which included Knot-Tying, Bandage-Wrapping, Flag-Hoisting and Compass-Reading a.k.a. Orienteering. Lunch was served at 3 p.m., and by then, some of the older teachers were almost fainting from hunger. There was no such thing as a “break” or “recess,” as even eating times were strictly monitored (15 minutes max!). As soon as we finished eating, we were off to another lecture session. There was also no time to take a bath, and even if we had time, we couldn’t as there were frequent power interruptions, and consequently no water for one whole day.

      The big event of the evening was the Campfire. It started at midnight and ended at 2:30 a.m. It was held outside, in the rain and mud. People actually acted, danced, yelled and sang, with not a few of them slipping and falling into the mud.

      We finally got to sleep at 3 a.m., only to be woken up at 6 a.m. for Assembly outside. In the rain again.

      As this was the last day, we had only two lecture sessions after breakfast, and then it was off to the Hiking activity. This was the crowning jewel of my Makiling experience! Three hours of hiking in treacherous muddy mountain and forest terrain, through obstacles such as the tire tunnels shown below:      

And rope courses: 

And lots more that I wasn’t able to find pictures for. Along the way, we were also told to do things like “Carry a patrol mate on your back for fifty metres!” and decode a secret message that was posted along the trail. All this, plus negotiating steep mountain slopes, made even more deadly by the slippery mud that nearly carried me away too many times to count, had it not been for the steady supporting arms of my patrol-mates.

      The lowest point of my whole life came when I was stuck in the middle of the tire tunnels, with my arms cramping up and altogether too weary to pull myself out. All I could think of was, “How pathethic! I graduated from college, and I can’t even pull myself out of this tunnel!!!” It was extremely humbling, let me tell you! I was so blessed to have gentlemanly and physically-fit patrol-mates who pulled me out of that hell-hole, literally.

      I made it through that Hiking trail not on the merits of my own strength, in fact I think I would have gotten lost or at the very least, broke my neck, if I had gone through it alone. I am not exaggerating when I say that my patrol-mates SAVED me. I owe them so much.

      I was never so happy in my life as in the moment that we emerged from the wilderness to lay eyes on Jamboree Hall, where we had the chance to bathe and change out of our torn and muddy clothing.

      The graduation ceremony afterwards was made more special by the presence of the Parañaque mayor’s son, and so I was asked to sing a special number. I’m happy to say that, despite my bone-deep exhaustion, I was able to pull off a decent rendition of “Sa Kabukiran,” only, I took the liberty of changing the words to “Sa Kagubatan” to suit the occasion better. And in return, one of the Scout Commanders (who was a graduate of the UST Conservatory of Music) gave me a neat flashlight (the kind that needs no batteries but can be manually “charged”) and my very own multi-purpose knife (like the Swiss Army knife, only without the brand name)! Not bad for one song! J

      When we finally left Makiling, it was already getting dark. Our bus service dropped us off at RMM approaching 8 p.m. already. All of us RMM teachers were bruised, sore, and nearly catatonic with exhaustion, but we still managed to exchange stories about our experiences while on the school bus. I am proud to say that we RMM teachers are a hardy lot. Despite all the puyat, not a single one of us was absent for work the following day! J

      As my father put it, I have learned more life skills in those three days than all my five years in the College of Music. It has truthfully been a life-changing experience. I am wiser and a lot more humble. I have come to realize just how little I really know, in terms of survival skills. The forests and mountains of Makiling were a far cry from my comfort zone of practice room and classroom, but I have survived and am stronger and better for it.

      Reading through this blog post, I am struck by the futility of words to express all that I’ve learned, especially about people. I used to belong to a high school crowd that looked down upon kayumanggi skin and probinsyana features, that praised smooth fair complexions and dainty, princess-like mannerisms. But now I know that city folk can’t hold a candle to probinsyana girls/boys when it comes to the things that REALLY matter... like going through mountain trails! In fact, if it hadn’t been for my probinsyana patrol-mates, I would not be alive right now, typing at this computer. When I have a daughter of my own, I am going to send her to the province as often as I can (maybe during the summer). I’ll go along with her, too. I’ll teach her how to climb mountains, go through gravity-and-death-defying obstacles, be able to tell where North is despite the lack of a compass, and go through any and all hardships with a smile on her face and joy in her heart.