Kairukan Falls, Bataan

Kairukan Falls
Brgy. Sitio Canauan, Morong, Bataan
September 24 - 25, 2005




Perception, it is never as untainted as what we would wish. We can't help to see our world through prejudiced eyes. Our minds are wired to be prejudiced so as to react faster by reacting to expectations rather than what is really there. And that is where the danger lies. Not all red fruits are sweet, and not all that is green is good.



Camp Vanessa has tainted my eyes and so has Kairukan Falls. Each climb and expedition inevitably has shaped the lens by which I view this world. One climb had even compelled me to take out a life insurance and thus affected my finances up until retirement.

When we left Camp Vanessa, a landslide occurred a few meters from our campsite. It was simple. There was a muffled rumble, followed by the sound of branches tearing and snapping and then a thump. From a distance, you can make out a slight cloud of dust swirling in the afternoon air. Half an hour ago, I was basking on a huge boulder down there with my arms and legs spread wide apart while I look up at the narrow band of sky above and between the towering walls of trees and rocks. If we had stayed longer, would we have known that a wall of rocks was to give up a part of itself to the river? Had our legs been strong enough and fast enough to outrun the sliding wall of debris? Would we have had the presence of mind to run for our lives rather than stare up at our fate - waiting for something that seemed inevitable?

We were lucky to stare down and see only the dust rising. It was casual: look back, shrug your shoulders, look forward and see that the rest of the group had gone anyway and probably have not heard a thing, then keep on walking. All it took to acknowledge that event was a shrug - a casual shrug.



These thoughts played in my mind as I lay inside my tent, alone, and enveloped by a constant thunderous noise of water crashing down from four stories up - a frozen crescendo marred by the pelting of raindrops from the canopy.



Feeling for what is in me, like a connoisseur swirling wine in his mouth, I tried to understand what this trek meant to me and how different it was from all the rest.

Earlier, while I explored the area, waiting for a break in the weather to be able to take at least some respectable photos I had a brush with a snake. I was leaning on a rock trying to steady the camera while taking a macro photo of the patterns on a dead log lying beside the stream. I noticed movement on my fogged up viewfinder while I concentrated but dismissed it. The next time I noticed it, I was made annoyed enough to take my eye off the camera. There it was, coiled about a meter away from my forearm was a snake - bright green with red markings, licking at the air towards my direction with its bluish forked tongue. The sight sent me into the air and almost sent photographer and camera into the water.



After the initial shock of being so close to something that is hardwired into all human being to stay away from, I managed to gingerly approach it once again and take some pictures blindly. I needed to lay the camera on the rock beside the snake and pray that the meager depth of field and terribly slow shutter speed would be right on target.

A few shots and I was off. I felt I was agitating the snake and felt it wise to return its graciousness and leave it be.

In retrospect, I wonder whether that snake was poisonous or would a bite simply have given me a nasty bout of fever and chills. I know of only two Philippine snakes whose bite can be fatal to a full grown human being. One is a cobra and the other is a sea snake. But considering that even today, new species of mice and bats are being discovered in not so remote places, then what assurance do I have that ol' greenie is harmless?

What bothered me however and still could not explain was how close I came to the snake without provoking it to either strike or flee. My forearm was hot, soft and sweaty, and so dangerously close. Why did the snake ignore me?



These questions are like tears in the tent of an agoraphobic. They reveal a truth more pressing than the literal answer that is being sought. Why was I not bitten? Why was I not crushed and buried by falling debris? The more of these questions that I collect, the more poignant the sense of being not in control becomes. The more vulnerable I feel, the more fearful I become of the things that I have come to love.



When does fear manifest: In ignorance or upon understanding? Or is it that understanding raises a person to another level where more questions are revealed and thus breaks you to fear even more?

I remember how fast I walked back to camp as I felt alarmed at everything that was green - and everything around me was green. Then I saw it, a larger and browner version of the green snake! The weight of my pace was irresistible and I instinctively leapt into the air over the long and moving body that was blocking my path. I was about to bolt but my curiosity got the better of me and I looked back. The long slender body flowed so gently that it was apparent something was not what it seems. I inched closer. If it was a snake, it would have to be a ridiculously long snake. As I stood over a thick vine with a river of giant black ants moving in one direction, I let out a nervous chuckle, then sped back to camp.



Before night settled in I went to the falls to retrieve a bottle of wine I had left in the water to chill. As I sat on a rock retrieving the cordelette I had secured on the neck of the wine bottle, I was taken aback by the sight of the falls that seemed larger and more powerful as the light died all around us. Black and glistening, vertical walls of rock shot up from the gray foam of the falls, and right where it met the fading sky the silhouette of trees encircled us with a crown of shadows. In the midst of violent swirls of mist and darkness, my eyes stared out trying to make out this nocturnal soup until the day died and I found myself alone and again the hapless subject of that which neither I know or understand.



The roar and drumming of water confuses and perplexes the mind, numbs the senses and brings a person's consciousness into a fetal ball. There is no escaping the splash, there is no escaping the roar, there is no respite from sleep, there is no sleep, only splashes and roars, no sleep and none of the stories told stuck to the mind while the wine flowed and caressed the inner walls of who you thought you were, the same walls you had many a times retreated and chanted to yourself your name.



Why why why does the ground feel soft when you know you are lying on rocks? Why do you feel as if the ground bulges to your side to embrace you, to keep you where you lay, to roll your head from side to side while knowing your sleep will never come? Why why why does the roots and vines rises from the ground to inch towards you but you could never see their faces. Why do you see their moss laden hands sprawl out to clutch the ground as if to bring a whisper towards your ear? Why do you feel you know them and give them your forehead to stroke? Why do you not speak even as you lick your dry lips? Why do you see yourself running towards the silver streak of the falls?


Itinerary
Day 1
05:00am Meet at Mt. Samat Ferry Terminal at the CCP, Manila
06:30am ETD Manila (Fare Php 300.00 per person).
07:15am ETA Orani Ferry terminal, Bataan (trip takes 45 minutes)
07:15am Hire a Van to Brgy. Sitio Canauan, Morong (Secure a trip back to the ferry terminal. Approx. cost of a two way trip is Php3,000.00.)
10:15am ETA Brgy. Sitio Canauan
10:30am Start Trek
01:30pm ETA Campsite at Kairukan Falls

Day 2
09:00am Break camp
11:00am ETA Brgy. Sitio Canauan
11:00am Bathe at the river and prepare to leave
12:00pm ETD Brgy. Sitio Canauan
02:00pm ETA Orani Bataan Ferry Terminal
03:00pm ETD
03:45pm ETA Manila