Sometimes, it is good to not have to be in control, to just go with the flow, see where the tide takes you, and what the waves wash to shore to bring you. Personally, when it comes to travelling, I am the type to want to at least be in the know, have a modicum degree of awareness, on what to expect and what to look forward to. But, sometimes, that, too, can get exhausting. Too much information to hold in at a time when you just want to have fun. And it is at times like these that I appreciate being unaware, and be surprised.
Our office trip some months ago to Corregidor and Bataan was that kind of trip. Well, about 50% of it. Since our driver, Kuya Bong, is originally from around Morong, Bataan, we just left Day 2 of our trip entirely up to him. We just didn’t bother to draw up any plans or itinerary, we just left ourselves in his mercy.
Who knew it’d bring me one of the more memorable experiences I’ve ever had?
The Sands and Beaches of Morong
This 3rd class municipality in Bataan is only one of the several places in the region famed for its beaches. Its long stretch of sandy beach is lined with resorts that are sure to fit anyone’s budget. It is in one of the smaller resorts where we stayed at, because it is owned by one of Kuya Bong’s family friend.
Nothing fancy, nothing plush, but it afforded a great seascape, especially in the mornings, and that’s what we’re here for.
The sand ain’t white, but the long stretch of beach still made for a vigorous morning walk, or a brisker jog, if you’re up for it. I personally just woke up before the sun just to watch her break, and I even had some beach mutts to keep me company while I was aimlessly trudging the sandy shore.
It was so calm and serene, so quiet, the only sound you’d hear is the soft lapping of the waves against the shore…
…and the yipping and yapping of these puppies.
Fishing is one of the sources of livelihood in the seaside villages of Morong, and during the time we paid a visit to the home of Kuya Bong’s family, a major haul was just brought in so the entire village or barangay was in some sort of a frenzy to check out the catch.
It would have been fun to observe, but supposedly, the fishing docks were too crowded, we would just get in the way.
It was right before our trip back home to Baguio that we got to spend several hours frolicking in the refreshing waters of one of the resorts in Morong, this time in a cove specially made for safe swimming. Or, at least, attempts at swimming.
This tranquil setting is probably not up the alley of more adventurous beachcombers, but for those wanting some rest and relaxation, it’s JUST. PERFECT.
Now let us get to the main point of this blog post, which is the hidden gems. Hidden gems, from my perspective, since they are not really the usual places that would pop up the radar of most people heading to this part of Bataan.
The Philippine Refugee Processing Center in Morong, Bataan
Kuya Bong has quite the history with PRPC, since he grew up in the nearby town to where it is located. He had quite the stories to tell about how, when he was a child, he had encounters and even friendships with some refugees, trading goods and foods with them.
To be honest, it never occurred to me that Philippines had ever played the major role of sheltering refugees, but this visit to the PRPC proved me wrong.
The PRPC is a large facility that served as the “final stop” fore refugees from Cambodia, Laos, and Vietnam, and it is said to have accommodated around 400,000 of these refugees since it was first opened in 1980. The facility is large enough to accommodate 18,000 refugees at one time, so imagine how many batches have been hosted in this area.
By “final stop”, it means that PRPC is where they underwent various programs and trainings that eventually prepared them for their permanent resettlement in other countries, such as the United States, Canada, Australia, and even France and Norway in Europe.
So how did PRPC work? Think of the facility as a small city or local government unit, complete with schools and learning facilities, residences, restaurants, markets, and even houses of worship for the varied religions of the refugees.
There are photographic and narrative documentation on display inside the PRPC Museum to paint a clearer picture of their story.
In the middle of the museum building is this long wooden boat, which played a major role in bringing the refugees to Philippine shores.
The short transcription beside the boat read:
“Phu Kang is a hamlet located at Nha Trang City in Vietnam. On May 12, 1981, two motorized, light fishing boats, with 34 men, 20 women, and 17 children set off from this village and headed for the open seas.
For almost a week, these boats held their own against waves more powerful than those they were built to withstand. Finally, on May 18, they reached the shore of Mabayo Beach in Morong, Bataan, just before an approaching typhoon raised the seas in a fury.
Ashore, the Philippine Constabulary Integrated National Police, as well as officials and citizens of Mabayo attended to the refugees. After a brief stay at the Mabayo Elementary School, they were transferred to the Fabella Center in Manila.”
The contents of the museum combine replicas and the actual paraphernalia used by the refugees during their stay at the PRPC facility. Monkeyhouses, bunkhouses, old devices and gadgets, antiquated tools and implements…
Even the results of their arts and crafts trainings were on display.
Outside the Museum, we proceeded to one of the areas of worship in the PRPC facility. This time, it is the Chua Van-Hanh, a Buddhist temple where the Vietnamese Buddhists had their regular worship.
It’s mostly a scenic and peaceful (enclosed) garden with a shaded long hall ending with an altar where a gilded Buddha sits, as if waiting for the faithful.
And behind it, is a view of the rolling hills, still presumably a part of the massive PRPC facility.
It was in February 21, 1981 when Pope John Paul II, now a saint, held an ecumenical mass in the area, and on the site was built a Memorial Shrine dedicated to him. It was inaugurated on May 2, 2011, the same date of John Paul’s beatification in Rome, Italy.
I suppose the beauty of this particular shrine is how it symbolized the unity of the faithful, regardless of what their religious affiliation was, because that one time Pope John Paul II held that mass, all refugees from the various religions were in attendance.
The Pawikan Conservation Center
It was mid-morning when we first set foot inside the Pawikan Conservation Center (PCC). It was a nondescript place, not quite the conservation center I’d expected, because there were only a couple of staff around, and not a lot of people.
We were allowed to walk around on our own in the area, which was relatively small. Maybe I was expecting a place big enough to hold dozens of pawikans (sea turtles), but then again, I realized, why should they? Why would they, when their natural habitat is out there, in the water?
The Pawikan Conservation Center is located right by the beach, by the way. Just walk straight out, and you’ll find yourself in another long stretch of beach, with several resorts in the distance.
PCC is a government-administered center for the protection of marine turtles, or pawikans. It is dedicated in the protection and rescue of pawikans, but what caught my attention was how it had a wide hatchery area, proof that the place also promotes propagation of the sea turtles, which are considered to be on the brink of endangerment.
Those sticks sticking out of the sand marks the spot where pawikan eggs were buried by the PCC staff, and on these sticks are indicated the number of eggs and the dates they were laid and buried. After a month or two of incubation deep in the sand, they would be dug out, then they’d hatch, and be released into the waters.
Interestingly, the entire life cycle of the pawikans, zeroing in on their reproduction, is presented in a sculpted installation in the middle of the PCC facility.
Also, at that time, in the small pawikan-shaped pool, there were two sea turtles lazing. They have been rescued by the PCC staff, one for having an amputated leg, while the other was humpbacked, which meant surviving out there in the big, bad, wild ocean is close to impossible.
They are like the resident rescued pawikans of PCC.
Now here’s where the fun began.
On our visit, one of the staff of PCC, a ranger, told us that he’d be doing one of his rounds that night, which is their routine, in order to check for any sea turtle that will come to shore to lay eggs. There is no guarantee that there’d be a sighting, but it is that time of the year when these marine turtles do this, so would we be interested to join him on his rounds that night?
We couldn’t resist it. We said yes.
So, at close to 8pm that night, after dinner and an exhausting day of going around places in Morong, we went back to the PCC – now even less crowded than that morning.
The rounds don’t start until 9pm, so we waited, and then armed with flashlights, we joined the staff out onto the beach.
It was a very long walk, and tiring too, since it was packed sand, and we weren’t really prepped for walking the beach at night. We walked practically the entire length of the beach, which was more than 2 kilometers, if I remember correctly, until we came to the end of the beach, right beside a cliff.
There, we sat down on the sand, some of us lying down to watch the stars, and just rest our legs and relax.
Already our spirits were sinking, because we walked the entire length of the beach, and there was no sighting.
We hung around for around 30 minutes, then got back up to make that slow trudge back to the PCC.
Halfway to the PCC, we heard the staff yell out ahead of us. It was almost pitch-dark, and holding too many lights is not a good idea as it may distract the sea turtle. The staff went on first, tracking where the pawikan went. We could barely make out its tracks from the water up higher on the beach.
We were only allowed to get closer when the staff was sure that the pawikan started laying its eggs. Because apparently, once the laying started, the sea turtle is oblivious to everything else.
The staff beckoned us to come closer, and there it was. A huge turtle, its bottom practically digging into the sand where, upon closer inspection, we saw it has dug a hole where the eggs are falling.
And I don’t know how to explain the feeling that came over me when I peered closer and saw those white orbs pop out then go rolling inside the hole, as if to join the other white orbs, waiting down there.
It was soundless, and the white orbs just kept popping out…. AMAZING.
After a while, the staff started getting the eggs, with their shells already hardened, from the hole. He took them out into the sand and had us line them up for us to count. All this happening while the sea turtle was still laying its eggs, as if unaware that the eggs were being taken out of the hole.
All in all, I think there were more than 88 eggs, which the staff then carefully placed inside a sack he took out from his rucksack.
Once the sea turtle had finished laying its eggs, what followed was another delightful display of nature’s ingenuity. Well, to my eyes, at least.
She started rolling around, turning this way and that, flapping its fins mightily, up, down, to the side and all around. We can hear the loud thumping of the fins, and I could not help but think that a normal man would get some whomping if hit by those fins.
It kept at it for a good five to ten minutes, rolling around and thumping, as if flailing wildly but then you’d notice that there’s a calculation to the movements.
Because what she is doing is to cover the traces of what she just did. The hole she made earlier to dig herself into? The deeper hole she made for her to lay her eggs in? They are gradually being flattened, all her tracks being covered.
When she moved away from the spot, it was so flat, you wouldn’t think that a sea turtle was just there minutes before, laying 80+ eggs.
After that, she started moving back towards the water, ignoring us. We watched in hushed silence as she slowly went forward, and we can only follow silently to the edge of the water, watching her swim away, as if sending her away.
In my head, I thanked her for sharing the experience, even if I knew she didn’t mean to do so, and we merely intruded. We did however try to maintain a degree of respect, by keeping our distance and not disturbing her as she went about her business.
Afterwards, with lighter steps, we raced back to the PCC where we were allowed to make another hole into the hatchery, and slowly transfer the eggs in there. We were invited to come back after 60 days, when the eggs would have hatched and be released into the water.
Unfortunately, our schedule would not permit us, so we only took pleasure in the knowledge that, in 2 months, more sea turtles – little ones – would be joining their mother out at sea.
I was never an active advocate of saving marine wildlife, but I can see why the passion is there for many people. And I am glad that there are such people. That places like the PCC exist.
One would probably say that the eggs should just be left where they are, let nature take its course.
But that cannot be said when nature is not entirely safe from intrusions. Leaving the eggs where they were laid by the mother would also mean leaving them in the mercy of predators, like the large birds, or the dogs digging in the sand. Or even humans out to steal these eggs for their own nefarious purposes.
At least, in the PCC, in the Hatchery, these eggs are given a fighting chance, so they can break out of their shell and go out into the world. Or, into the sea.
It was a very, very humbling experience. One that will stay with me for a very long time. Probably forever. It was close to midnight when we got back to the resort where we were staying, and I still felt high from the experience. Definitely another thing to be thankful for in my growing list of learning and enlightening experiences while travelling.
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