Armand invited me last week for a slideshow of photographs that will be featured in time for the Holy Week. Spanning a good three summers of documenting the rituals and practices around Quezon, Laguna and Makati City, thirty photos comprise this work. You can view it at pinoycentric.com.

Ormoc at last! Despite not having made it to the midnight boat for Cebu, I was just glad that I finally reached this city at around 0400H from Tacloban. Its been a year since I’ve last visited this place while I was in transit to Guiuan in Eastern Samar to shoot the church there for the book. But back when I was still based in Cebu, Eastern Visayas was part of my area of responsibility and have constantly been here for work as well as leisure.

See the photo above? That’s me at the extreme left with only my left ear visible still taking this shot. If you noticed, thank you, the row I’m at is already full while I was given the kiddie seat just beside the sliding door of the van. It was small for my 5’10″ frame. Really. To give me a semblance of comfort and spare me less of a sore butt, they had these wooden stool, around 4 inches in width propped up beside the kiddie seat that is removed whenever the door is opened as it might fall.

The San Bernardino Strait or better known during the Spanish colonial era as the Embocadero de San Bernardino is a narrow waterway separating the islands of Luzon and Samar.

Eons ago: worldwide waterlevels were so low that the islands of Luzon and Samar were connected by a land bridge that made it possible for species to cross and disperse both ways.

1300H and I was just at the nick of time that I arrived at the pier after a long journey. I was still able to catch the roro ferry in Matnog, Sorsogon bound for Allen, Samar and was thankful enough since I was spared of waiting another two hours for the next trip.

What I like about the Matnog – Allen route is that its just short.

I was already tired and sleepless when I arrived in Daraga, Albay at around 0700H. And God, it was a rather drab morning and wet with the slow but constant drizzle. Nevertheless, I dragged myself to a waiting tricycle before catching a jeepney to Legazpi City where I had a quick breakfast.
This was not the first time that I have been in the city in this kind of weather. But when it’s like this, not seeing Mt. Mayon is depressing.

It was CHAOS as I excitedly wound my way to the lounge area of the Philtranco bus terminal in Pasay City on the evening of my trip. But what greeted me was the throng of people in various states and disposition as they were awaiting for their bus to arrive. Unfortunately, because it was 30 December and the height of the passenger season, all buses were late for as much as 2 hours.

Call it madness, call it a masochist’s trip but, after much ruminations, I finally made it…

The slow road to Caraga. If you want that, ride on a provincial jeepney. What usually takes 3 hours by van or four by bus can be an exasperating 6 hours by jeep. If you are short on patience, then forget about it. There are just too many stops, too many waits, too many bad roads coupled with a heavy downpour.

On an ordinary day, the highway leading to the municipality of Gov. Generoso in the middle of the western side of the long and narrow peninsula of Davao Oriental is lonely. Except perhaps for the occasional bus or private vehicle traveling to Mati, the province’s capital or to Tagum in Davao del Norte. Sometimes, a habalhabal, a motorized public transport, passes filled with passengers.

I really don’t know why the Agora bus terminal in the city of Cagayan de Oro always fascinates me. Its a modest strip of land just beside the Agora market in the often chaotic part that is just near the pier.

It is bisected by a short two lane road where the buses come and go. On each side is the covered bus bays, housing eateries, turo turo style, side by side with regular pasalubong stalls and a few ticket booths.

What a sight to behold: the sun waking from its slumber but still hidden by low lying clouds as mist hasn’t yet lifted across the land that is Bicol. A familiar orange hue envelops the still halfshut break of morn as the plane hovered thousands of feet above.

A striking silhouette with a trace of smoke billowing from its tip, rising from the land, perfect, majestic Mt. Mayon.

The jeepney from Ketkai pulled to a stop as I signaled the driver to when I reached Agora, more specifically known as the old bus terminal just beside the market in the fast growing city of Cagayan de Oro in the northern-central part of Mindanao.