A Trip to DANGGIT's Breeding Habitat

Inday Lomocso, the keeper in our local church  came to me in gasping breath but with a big smile on her face."Maayong hapon, kanang kuan ba ingon man gud si Father Finlayson nga kung pwede ba daw ugma mouban mo sa lakaw" she hastily says.

 I was puzzled on how the local priest invited me all of the sudden." Unsa diay day...naay program?"...I answered back. "Naa man gud miabot nga mga bisita si Padre, mga taga New Zealand, unya nangutana daw ug naa ba daw tay environmental organization dire sa atoa, unya kahibalo man si Padre anang Friends of Nature ninyo.

Natingala gani daw to sila kay abi nila wa tay environmental group"....she coyly utters

Asa man diay mi adto day?, kinsay kuyog ug unsang orasa ang lakaw, I say. " Sa Pisaan daw, mokuha ug pump boat si Padre, magsayo daw mo pohon ug lakaw human pamahaw" she finally says.

 After Inday left, I was in bewilderment, me? going to Pisaan? wow, it's beyond comprehension...not on this time when the situation is downright critical.

When I was in grade school, my father used to spend our weekend on our nipa plantation in Balot, so I been always looking forward for Saturdays with great anticipation ang joy. A  smile will always figure in, in my face.

 Tatay just paddled it out in our tiny wooden boat with bamboo "katig". On early morning the boat  will finds its way through the mangroves lining the fresh river going to Balot, the early mist and the morning glow of the sun gave the sunny feeling to the chirping birds that live in the habitat.

The pinkish to fuchsia little flowers that dropped from the bakhawan trees and the magnolia shaped white ones from pagatpats bedecked the placid waters.

It was mesmerizing, a picturesque splendour when the river is basically full of mangroves flowers, just simply adorable and surreal  kaleidoscopic sight to behold.

" Tay, ngano man nga hangtod karon magbugsay man ta, ngano man nga dili man ta mopalit ug pump boat aron kusog atong sakayan, abot ta dayon" was my innocent suggestion, any how I felt jealous by the roaring of those engines just passing on its way, leaving us trying to balance due to its waves effect. "Maayo kini kay walay gastos, " he said. ''Usa pa, aron dili pod nato ma estorbo ang mga langgam, kay sayo pa man, basig nanga tulog pa sila" he continued. I was thinking...nahhhh, we can't afford for sure...or maybe my father was just so frugal, so "kuripot".

I never thought of his wisdom he was trying to impart and convey to my young mind. It was this little conversations that made me realized my father and my father's father were outright environmentalists. The old folks truly respect nature, they understood the relationship between man and nature. They respect each other.

My father will always go to Pisaan for our breakfast. He and Nanay would spread out the nylon net called "PANTI" , it's like a volleyball net actually, spreading it carefully by attaching it on a bamboo pole in one side and the other side I and Nanay holding patiently in our humble sakayan.

 Minutes past and my Tatay signalled to pull the net towards us in the boat. Plenty of danggit, lambay, some alimango, gisaw and lots of other fishes made it through our fresh and fabulous breakfast in the boat.

 The rice was pre-cooked by my mother, and she brought an instant stove!!!! we had deliciously fresh tinolang danggit with just few tomatoes and onions plus the aromatic tanglad. After all my global travel from London to Paris, New York to Switzerland and tasted all the cuisine from these places...surely I CAN'T EXCAHANGE THE SIMPLE TINOLANG DANGGIT FROM DINAS.....it's heavenly for sure!

We made our way to Binuatan for our ride to Pisaan, me and Jon Px ANGON represented the Friends of Nature while a man and a woman were our guests from the New Zealander side.

 After the usual greetings we rode the sakayan ...and OMG!!!! IT LOOKS LIKE MY FATHER'S SAKAYAN!!. " Jon asa man tong giingon ni Inday nga pumpboat?, mura man nig sa akong Tatay uy!!!!, I murmured to Jon's ear." Ayaw jud ug complain , kay mao ni gerequest ining duha ka kagwang! pointing to the two foreign invironmentalists he says. Yay ...in my mind it was a dejavu moment, my father ang these people from the developed country of NZ.

Why the wooden boat?...what's the common denominator then. I WAS SILENT. I tried to recollect fast in my brain the wisdom of my father...go,go,go brain. Peacefully I was with my father face to face in my thoughts......yes, Tatay, I must not ask again for power boats...respect the birds...respect nature. I FELT
CONFIDENT AGAIN WITH OUR JOURNEY. The FEELING OF "ONENESS" with nature gave me a strong conviction.....I am a part of the habitat.

Along our tranquil ride to Pisaan, Jon felt hungry and peeled- off a ripe banana, he finished it quckly and toasted the peel into the water. The two new Zealanders did the same, I was not that hungry so I just watched them enjoying their meal. After eating the bananas they pulled out a paper bag and neatly place their waste into the bag!....wow, we supposed to be environmentalist in local version, and Jon just showed our ignorance about our waste disposal. SHAME ON US.

Our guide understood where exactly the site our guests wanted to see. In Pisaan, there is this so called Marine Protected Triangle Reserve. It is compose of coral reefs where the sweet and healthy DANGGITS dwell and breed. The water there is crystal clear, the army of fishes glistens as they glided merrily undisturbed. On low tide patches of white sands float, making it nice to step down and swim,explore and enjoy the first class amenity nature could offer. Tikala island is just near to the Pisaan coral reef....Pisaan, simply means in English -the breeding ground. And on the outskirt of the opening of the river is the natural habitat of fruit bats, thousands of them, sleeping, playing, laughing maybe...undisturbed too.

Our visitors were focused on what they wanted. So I 've heard that they are here on their marine research. They plucked some whitish seaweeds from the sides of the rock formations on the reef. Then I realized that the white seaweeds added the prestine whiteness glow of the PISAAN REEF. It looks like a sea beds of short fur-like white soft blades....it was again an amazing sight to behold.

With out hesitation that caused my curiousity I asked them why they are so interested with those white seaweeds. The white seaweeds according to them is the major food for our DINAS DANGGIT. The white seaweeds when eaten by our native DANGGIT will give that mestiza skin of the  fish. As I had observed, other danggits from neighboring peninsula are blackish in skin and having those hard texture of skin when cooked. The white seaweeds give the DANGGIT's intestine to be white and super clean, without sands, without other objects...they love ONLY EATING WHITE SEAWEEDS...they are so proud of itselves.....DIFFERENT....its their kind of WHITENING WHAT IS FOR THOSE LADIES WHO USES LOTIONS FOR WHITENING SKIN!!!........OUR DANGGIT SIMPLY DOES.


Our Danggit is the best in the world. It is our most cherished HIDDEN secret.It is our legacy,our natural gift from nature and GOD. Let us protect our DANGGIT....it's  the ONLY PRIZED nature possession for us, the people of DINAS.

We are proud people...because we love our danggit...........

We have pretty ladies and gentlemen because we eat our delicious DANGGIT.
LOVE AND PROTECT OUR ECOSYSTEM................

OF EGOS & SOCIAL BISOU-BISOU

Summer is almost over and the "BER" months near,  glittering events and parties are promising, but how about your social nightmares, like meeting someone you intently avoid up close and personal? should you apply vanishing creams on your skin...or prick yourself feeling like a balloon and hope to burst and disappear on thin air?

Conversations, even apologies for it, are supposed to follow greetings in social gatherings -- whether they are in the form of Hi, How-are-you-I-am-fine, Great-to-see-you, or even those bisou-bisou moments.

 Increasingly, however, here, it was a face-off between avoiding or pretending they don't exists, kind of thing. But this time  a stand-off for an eternally long two minutes, during which the two of you silently deliberated on whether to kiss or not to kiss.

The awkward moment passed .... no bisous, not even a half-knowing  plastic smile  and then  continued  pirouetting and gliding like swans on the lake...but in two different directions!!!!

Is there, I wonder, a silent shift of tectonic plates taking place under the edifice of social etiquette? or perhaps, the snobs are a bit in retreat from their obeisance to the fashion rules of social intercourse. Come to think of it those whose ascension to the paradise of the chosen ones has already taken place are horrified by the fact that kiss and made up doesn't happened overnight. Egos, egos and egos, wearing dark shades of Tom Ford and feeling like either Anna Wintour or Stevie Wonder...in distress...and yes do pout or exercise the stiff- upper-lip moments.

 Ah yes, apropos the-paradise-on-earth for the wannabes: To find a place amongst the chosen in our times, you need an entrée into the inner sanctums of parties and events in venues and areas discreetly cordoned off. 

A nodding acquaintance with somebody who knows somebody who is friends with somebody who knows somebody who is part of your  inner circle of friends; who has had breakfast in Bangkok, lunch in Hongkong and relaxing in Singapore...oh lalala......

Interestingly, while the ‘muahh-muahh’ may disappear, but the competitive banters sunk in, about their vacations, new Chanels and LV's..and even their acquisitions of personal dieticians, personal therapist and personal psychic masters!

Perhaps, it’s time we turned in our social life for meaningful  friends and conversations –conversations without agendas, deep and meaningful conversations are happier than those who generally unfashionably talk about nonsense in style and trends.

 And then there’s always your analysis. But, that’s only one point of view....one direction. Build your own parties and invite your collective butterflies to massage your ego.

BARBECUE & POSO ON THE BEACH

It was  a Saturday afternoon when my four year old son whispered to my ear  with a  giggle, "Daddy ligo ta 'BINA"  smiling as he said.

 I knew really what he meant----a next day picnic at the nearby beach in the town of TABINA, Zamboanga del Sur. With his  naughty and angelic pleading who would resist to say no...?

" Oo baby, mangaligo ta ugma human nato ug simba" I say. Basti was jumping with joy and gave me a hug, while my mind was thinking on how this trip will turn up in such a short notice.

 Basti was  already inviting all his little friends to join a "FREE-FOOD/FREE-RIDE, SWIMMING AND EATING FEAST", I called Lagring to do something for our quick preparation.

" Unsa Sir? mag puso tah para ugma? ay, kalisod ba ana himoon uy, lung-ag na lang ta para dali ra ug wa pay kapoy! " she burst out with complain. Pila na kaha ko ka tuig nga gahandom mokaon ug poso, unya balibaran pako nimo" I aswered back. 

Imo biya pod nga nasugilon nga imong inahan mamaligya-ay ug poso sa mercado niadto. Lagring coyly accepted my persuasion. "Sus noh...mo reklamo pa jud ka.....

Knowingly that , it was not a request but an order, she left the conversation and started looking at the cute coconut trees at the backyard. 'Hoy Lagrimassssss..... dili biya mga dewende mangaon anang poso, pilaha ray itukob anang imong himoong poso nga kagagmay biya ng lukay sa pilipog?"

 I retorted in disgust. Hala tawag ug habal-habal ug adto sa bukid ipalihog ingon si Dong Unyot nga anak ni Panyang nga tindera ug budbud nga isaka kag lukay. Hala niay beinte pesos o, ibayad sa iyaha. Iapil pod ug hangyo nga ganahan kog botong para sa akong merienda, was my last words.

Half hour past and my hot Star bread came from Antipuesto bakery, which after the constant crisis costs 5 pesos per piece. I can't wait for my fresh buko salad which I was planning to add condensada milk and little sugar and ice.

 Alas!!! a motor bike came roaring at our pergola , and saw Lagring with lots of palm leaves and a pitcher of "kinayod na buko". "

 Hoy pagkadaghan ba ang lukay uy....layo pa man ang PALM SUNDAY, hahahahahaha!" I laughed as I helped them out arranging the palm leaves over the "lantay".

So it was heavenly merienda of BOTONG and star bread with the family---Basti and his friends, Faming, Bering  and the rest of the neighborhood kids I love to call them the HABHAB KIDS..joining every aftrenoon's merienda. I love kids playing while I am on a nap, their  laughter were more music than noise to me as I took a little slumber.

Lagring was busy weaving the poso and asked my kumare Milay, who sells TUBA everyday to help her the entricate job of doing a poso. My Nanay  was very good in making poso. 

A poso is HANGING RICE in English, as they gave this name to  sweet and tediously hard process steam rice that looked like a religious ceremony....!!!!!

A poso has different shapes and sizes, some called them "BENAKI", for having a shape of a frog. The other one which we usually have is called "KINASING" obvoiusly looking like wooden turompo or kasing.

An expert must be hired to cook POSO, a correct rice measurement must be added inside the empty poso. Incorrect measurement - like more rice will bloat the poso and some part will be uncooked. ...while lesser rice inside will cause a "LUGAW" like poso.

The aroma from the young coconut leaves upon cooked added the exoticness of the poso, so unique and the smell is mouth watering.

It was a fantastic picnic the following day and BASTE and the HABHAB GANG enjoyed through out the day. ....AND THE POSO?..........well that would be another story.

my BREAKFAST AT MOUNT TIMOLAN

The majestic Mt.  Timolan in Tigbao, Zamboanga del Sur, promises an exciting morning trip as we started  early at dawn. I was wearing a light weight DKNY jacket, cargo shorts, Ralph Lauren white tee, with matching black cap and low-cut Nike rubber shoes. The rest of the team of five wore their normal self except Baste who felt a little cold even with jacket. He was wrapped 

around with Kashmiri wool blanket with Lacoste cap to cover his head.

Famous for its rugged river trails, lush forests, exciting rock climbs, exotic rare flora and wild birds, the Mt. Timolan trip and adventure gave a new meaning to the expression" getting there is simply half the fun."...and the home of the smallest primate--tarsiers.

The road was still enveloped with fog as we drove past the barangays of Legarda Uno up to Legarda Dos. Jojo- the cook of the adventure prepared all the home made food the previous night.

" Dong Jojo wa ba nimo kalimti and adobong manok? ang thermos, plato, kutsara posporo, katong ice box sa bugnaw nga Coke, Nescafe Gold, gatas ug pritong bulad 
plus nilung-ag nga head rice?, I asked while I looking at the back of the jeep.

"Kumpleto tanan tiyo, ako pong gidala ang tulo ka sipi nga hinog tundan, katong imong gipalit sa Limonan, nagdala pod mig sugbaanan sa bangus ug nukos nga ako nang namarinate gabii," was his long and precise reply. Everybody knows that organized trip will always be my agenda and will be written and followed by the team to the last detail, 3 days before the trip.

There is no light travel for me. I want my adobong manok well cooked and complete with correct ingredients. I bought my secret adobong manok items from People's grocery - RENO LIVER SPREAD and bayleaves to be added especially for the adobo. Everbody murmured as they asked how half of the vehicle was full of food compartment.


 They all wondered and thought why. I don't simply eat anywhere along the trip, my discerning palate craves for a style cooking-complete and mouth watering. But I confess, I am neurotic, I don't eat carinderias along the streets...hadlok kaayo ko ma hepa....hahahahaha... even the spoon and fork I brought for myself only. My one galloon mineral water at my side always.

As we reached  the left road going to Tigbao from Dumalinao, the fog got thicker and the wind was colder. My team began to quiver and start covering themselves with "trapal". Having experienced the coldest Mt. Titlis in Switzerland on my previous European travel, the mild coldness was a welcome bath of fresh cold air for me...my Khasmiri scarf gave me the necessary comfort.


 Descending the winding road in Upper Nilo, the sight of thick clouds at the top most of Mt. Timolan was a visual to behold. " Duol na ta, makit-an na nato ang tumoy sa Timolan" I said as I kept slowy my driving down the winding road.

I selected a rightful spot just opposite the mountain to have our breakfat just on the jeep. The white egrets flocked on the golden miles of yellow terrain of ricefields on the foot of the mystical mountain. The morning sun started on the east while we experienced the spiritual and colorful transformation of daylight. I drink coffee, hot coffee with small portion of hot rice, pritong bulad nga dangit with fresh tomatoes in patis. 


An additional fried egg was served in my plate. It was a perfect breakfast for me...as I was literally enthralled by the panoramic and untamed beauty of nature as my backdrop. Still cold, I saw my mouth exhaled with fog as I talked....it was just simply mesmerizing!. It was an impressive journey.

I LAB YOU MT. TIMOLAN....!!!!!! MAMAHAW TAG OTRO DIHA SA IMONG TIILAN, PROMISE..KAY DI NAKO KA KAT KAT SA TAAS..... :)))))