My paternal grandmother's simple ancestral home (the Lim Garcias') used to stand in a bank upstream from where this picture was taken.
Of my fondest childhood memories, among the dearest would be those Saturdays when my siblings and I, with our mother - would make the short walk to the site of that ancestral home early in the morning, to do laundry in the river, and to practice our swimming skills on what I consider until now, as our backyard "pool". We could hear the energizing gurgling sounds of the waters, even from the road. I don't know but to me, the sight, smell, and sound of the river is one of the few that soothes my spirit.
To the left of this picture, is the northernmost side of yet another tract of land (now subdivided into four parcels) still owned by Lim Garcia relatives.
To the left of this picture, is the northernmost side of yet another tract of land (now subdivided into four parcels) still owned by Lim Garcia relatives.
The same land is considered to be the gateway to the ancient domain of the legendary Buringsingsingay (sometimes called Ribonsina - meaning of both names eludes modern natives), whose beauty and wit are said to have captured the hearts of not a few pre-Hispanic visitors and traders to this part of the country. With her ladies in waiting, it is said that she would bathe most probably on the same spot that these children are, and that birds would follow her radiant beauty wherever she walked in the day, and at night, as if she were escorted by stars.
Her equally-legendary huge collection of jewellery and bed of fine gold have never been located (although an expedition from the National Museum in the '60s did find numerous ancient artifacts on a hill directly above this property), but the continued telling of her story still manages to tantalize the visual imagination of children, both of the past and the present. Some say she is but a mythical character, yet others attest that her bloodline actually survived down the centuries.
The river itself is said to be enchanted. Upstream, stories about hearing a ship blasting its horns in the wee hours of the night, abound. I have also heard of a first-hand testimony as to how, in a vision, the bridges crossing the river vanished, how the river stretched itself to such a width as to be able to accommodate a ship similar to the Spanish galleons, with European-looking passengers waving from its railings. This would be the second of the two accounts that I know, which involves Spanish galleons. The other involves a pristine spring in an undergrowth north of the poblacion.
A pillar of stone along the road, similar in construction and design to at least one more pillar on the opposite bank (both at least a meter thick and deep) - seem to be the only remaining traces of the Spanish-time port of armadillas (equivalent to present-day coast guards), which, together with the stone fortress, and several other baluartes de piedra in the coastal farmlands - largely contributed to the town's blooming economy in those early days.
This river meets the open seas around a hundred meters from here, outwards, to the direction of the photographer (me!).
I could easily picture myself as one of those boys up there. The huge rock with carved steps still serves as a diving board to the clear waters below.
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I believe pictures are meant to tell stories way beyond what the camera captures.
This is our town. If you think we are worth a visit, wait 'til you see the rest of the islands.
Definitely, it's MORE FUN IN THE PHILIPPINES!!!
Definitely, it's MORE FUN IN THE PHILIPPINES!!!
(Article written in support of the Department of Tourism's "It's More Fun In The Philippines" Campaign)
