Jane was better than Tarzan

Those in Bold have been accomplished.

1.)Learn how to drive a car
2.)Earn $1000 (Just to know how it feels like)
3.)Cook a full course meal
4.)Learn how to sew (tried and failed. My fingers refuse to weild the needle)
5.)Write a book
6.)Climb a mountain
7.)Film an indie flick
8.)Sell a print on DA (lulz)
9.)Go to Bohol
10.)Pose nude
11.)Organize a surprise party (also tried and failed. twice.)
12.)Contribute to Reader's Digest
13.)Make the Dean's list (ala lang)
14.)LARP
15.)Learn how to speak another language
16.)Visit another country
17.)See someone die
18.)Watch a birthing
19.)Perform onstage for theater
20.)Have an album launched for my band, Dama de Noche

Tarzan lived in the mountains all his life. Jane just learned to adjust.

I didn't really go on a real climb, but a mountain trek. My mom says that counts for accomplishing #6. But I still want to get to the top of a mountain at least once while I still can.

We crossed the sea to get to the tip of Northern Leyte to hunt for the perfect Mahogany tree for several building projects my mom's starting on. The said tree was deep in a family friend's property in the forests of Caryucan. All mommy had to do was pick which one she wanted, and they'd have it chopped up in planks and posts to be delivered to our beach.

Our hosts were the Dagotdots, relatives through my Lolo Tonio's side. Their house, built in the 60's, was a bigger version than the one lolo built in Naval, albeit with a lower ceiling.

Mommy's cousin, Uncle Jun2, dropped us off at Tito Apollo's place. Although the trip was short, the roads were rough.

Tito Pol was the modern day Tarzan. He loled us with stories for every plant. He insisted that one was a cure for cancer, while another was a cure for AIDS. And although I doubt his expertise on the medicinal properties of his plants (he'd named a weird berry the AIDS cure 6 years ago, when I first visited), he doesnt have a single white hair on his head. And the supposed Cancer cure had yummy leaves.

He insisted on living alone on his 50-hectare property, and had been married once, to a woman who has been around the world after divorcing him. Out of the marriage came two children, who he says care nothing about the outdoors. Hermitage comes with its downs too. He told me he'd make me eligible for inheritance if I could live there and take care of him in his old age. My mom joked that he'd have a private room reserved at the hospital if that was the case. :))

The haciendero led the way up the mountain, piping that he used to take that trek everyday some years ago. My mom asked us to stop about a quarter of the trek to catch her breath. We got to a clearing where the trail was lined by a row of flowering Maria de Cacao. On the left was a corn field and a little hut. Picture perfect. I regret not owning a camera.

Onwards was another field, except the corn stalks hadnt grown yet. Beyond were huge trees and white migratory birds on the boughs. The trail was to the left, so I couldnt go near enough to place what trees those were.

Half the trek was a man-made forest of young Mahogany, and a little beyond it were golden bamboo. There was a sad little pomelo fruit in the grass, with a chip in it's skin. For the rest of the trek, I tore at it with my bare hands and gobbled it up. So that it would party with the tapa I had earlier in the day and would no longer be sad.

Then the ground started getting muddier. I left my slippers in a neat little pile while my mom's fell into the mud. After my mom picked her tree(s), we went back, hunted for her slippers, then went back to Tito Pol's shed to collect more plants.

My mom pointed out a rock to me, and told me everything growing on it had medicinal properties. Before that point, I thought they were just weeds. She had me collect a bunch of Tawa-tawa, with the roots. I'd collected some other form of weed and brought it to my mom, hoping it was still useful. Apparently not. >.<

We went back to the house green and red (from scratches incurred in the forest) and met a very shy (albeit articulate) 2 -year old. Her name was Lara and she was plump, the way I was when I was her age. Within an hour, I had managed to trick her to let me carry her. She was as adorable as she was heavy. Very very.

By evening, she had made me her shoe-fitter/sandal-strapper/vicks-applier/fruit-peeler/gift-unwrapper/trash-bearer, etc etc. in short, her personal slave. Muwehehehe.

There was nothing else to do at night, except sleep. I tried remembering all the weird horror stories I heard the last time I was in those parts, but instead of scaring me, the memories coupled with the sea breeze and the thrashing mango trees out the windows put me to sleep (only for me to wake up at 1am due to insomnia).

Before we went home, my mom got herself handfuls (mine) of ornamental plants. Then we hopped onto a boat and rode the waves back home. Booyah.

I'd love to go back sometime to visit. I'd actually rather live there in the breaks than in Naval. If only there were wifi, it'd be perfect.