For some, besides Christmas, summer is the best time of the year to meet up with old friends, to travel, to learn new skills, to complete unfinished projects and to do business. Now that summer for me has become a time to laze around and listen to good music, I couldn’t help but remember the summer days of my childhood. I used to play bay-bay, shato and gira-gira with my boy neighbors. I also climbed trees. There were countless games that children play during my time (kids before were so ingenious) but I settled for the more familiar and sensible games.
Cafe Lawis is easily becoming the favorite hangout of the Metro Tagbilaran culturati. Located in the Dauis church's old stone Convento, the Cafe sits in between the church gallery/exhibition space and the Handumanan soveinir shop and extends to a wooden deck/verandah canopied by century-old acacia trees, with a stunning, stunning view of the Tagbilaran straight. And yes, the food is delectable as well.
An hour late, a robust discussion was already ongoing inside the Garcia Hall of the Provincial Capitol when I arrived. It is an informal consultative meeting on the proposed tourism code attended by women and men from different sectors passionate with sustainable development; a loose group with an open membership for all interested which now is dubbed the Bohol Advocates for Sustainable Tourism.
They all talked about how this was just a small challenge, something only for newbies and hardly anything to get nervous over as by the time one had barely begun it would soon be finished. It was just some twenty meters down and less than half the distance one had to rappel in Antequera, they assured me. But here I was, walking to and fro across the bailey bridge of Makapiko River, trying to come up with enough nerve to get it up and done with.
“Don’t let go!” Soaked through but in high spirits, this was our war cry for forty-five minutes or so. Each one sitting on a salbabida, linked only by hands and feet, our fate on the rushing river dependent on this unsevered link and by how much we have learned of the wisdom of the bamboo that grows abundant in the area. This is a water sport made for groups: family, friends and, we find amusingly appropriate, for companies wanting of team building.
The pale moon serene on a still night is unmoved by the glare of neon lights that greet our entry to Loboc. Its quiet glow foretells nothing of what awaits us in this province’s most musical town. A crowd of the seemingly curious already milled outside the Loboc Children’s Theater as Sonieta and her kids, Paul, and I wormed our way to the entrance. The sight that greets our entry is that of over forty kids filling the theater stage each holding a musical instrument that to some looked too big for their size.