BACLAYON: SOJOURN OF SEPTUAGENARIAN

Baclayon, loosely translated from local Boholano dialect, poetically denotes a long arduous trek to a distant hill made easy by walking idly together and story telling along the way.

Sojourn. Defined in Webster’s New Collegiate Dictionary: “A temporary stay;” “a journey to stay as a temporary resident” at a certain place (maybe faraway).

Septuagenarian: A person who is in his/her seventies.

On the first day of the valentines month year 2011, two septuagenarians were onboard flight 362 bound for Tagbilaran, the capital of the Province of Bohol. Baclayon, seven kilometers east of Tagbilaran, was their final destination.

The senior citizen duo would stay at the house of the late Colonel Guillermo W. Oppus (1918-1990). They were accompanied all the way by the late Col.’s youngest son Joseph, Pinong to some intimate Baclayanons, who invited them (us) to visit his native Baclayon.

Joseph’s beauteously simple daughter Niña Catrisa (nicknamed Nica) - a very cute, demure young lady, was the muse in this journey to Bohol. Nica is Joseph’s one and only offspring, so far, with his equally beautiful wife, nee Lourdes “Les” Llamas. Les is a scion of the late educator Don Pedro Llamas of Pagsanjan, Laguna, founding-owner of the first secondary high school in Calamba in 1930 – the Laguna Institute, now the Laguna College of Business and Arts.

Nica is a fresh nursing graduate of St. Paul College of Manila. A “dean’s lister,” she passed the nursing board examinations in her first take with flying colors. This very reserved young lady, I observed, is inseparable with her ubiquitous laptop as a prolific writer whenever an opportunity arises. Nica would stay with her uncle.

Joseph, 53, is tennis buddy to the Septuagenarians. Lolo Fanny, 70, is Epifanio de Vera a blue-blooded Pangkalatok. Lolo Ome, 71, aka Roman Romeo G. Nagpala is an orig Calamba-born die-hard Pinoy.

We are bona-fide residents of the City of Calamba in Laguna. The relaxing sport of lawn tennis binds us closely, welding a lasting companionship and harmonious friendship despite the generation gap. Joseph and Fanny are lay ministers at the Parish Church of St. John the Baptist in Calamba, just across the street of the Rizal Shrine.

Thus, these sojourners together flew and crossed the Luzon-Visayas sky boundary.

Joseph’s elder brother, soft-spoken Manong Nacing, fetched us from Tagbilaran airport with his black Sportivo. Nacing, 64, would be our truly accommodating host and tour guide, piloting his own car touring us around to various scenic and cultural destinations. We would never forget his mild deportment, natural hospitality and kindness; a very jovial fellow with hilarious stories to tell like his youngest sibling Joseph.

Our first taste of Bohol hospitality was at a seaside restaurant above the waters of Pook Pantalan, Cogon District, within the city limit. We lunched over local tinolang isda, crispy chicharon baboy, kilaw na isda, lato siwid, and other local fish concoctions. A bottle of brandy brought along by Fanny, a voracious drinker, was our “soft-drink” of the day. Liquor is Fanny’s every meal appetizer and regular sleep enhancer.

After our refreshing lunch amidst oceanic view of Panglao and Pamilacan Islands and pristine waters thereabouts, we experienced shopping at the city mall. The trio went to the mall’s pharmacy for our respective maintenance medicines; Joseph for his recurrent heart ischemia and the oldies for hypertension, blood sugar stabilizer, and arthritic pain reliever.
Our first evening was so relaxing at the baluarte plaza, a recently constructed long stretch of cemented pavement above the shallow waters just behind Baclayon Municipal Building, the original site of the Spanish lighthouse. This serves as the bay walk area to promenade and boat pier for tourists bound for Pamilacan bay dolphin/whale watching or the exclusive Bohol Beach Club at nearby Panglao Island.

The fresh and pure evening breeze softly touching one’s face brushing the problems away like magic even just for a fleeting moment prepares one to a dreamy slumber. And after over an hour of story telling a lie and rendition of Boholano kundiman songs by Joseph and his bosom friend cum aide de camp Kimal, Kim for short, we walked home and hit the hay straight.

The 2nd day of February is Joseph’s mother’s 91st birthday. Catalina Naron Pates-Oppus, Lola Laling the living matriarch to the ever growing Pates-Oppus clan in Baclayon, had seen the good old days as school teacher and devoted loving wife to the late Colonel husband. She took care of her husband and the family wherever the military officer’s posting would be.

Fleeting memories of the past were narrated briefly as everyone eagerly waited the delayed catered dinner exclusively for Pates-Oppus family circle and friends.

Kim, Lolo Ome, and the “oldie-sweet-Fanny” (kasi panot siya) enjoyed siesta time till evening moderately drinking especial Baclayon’s “bahalina tuba” and plentiful pulutan. We were joined briefly by Joseph’s balikbayan cousin Nang Norma with American husband Ralph.

Joseph shared the recollection of those grand days of old with his stickler officer papa and ever loyal and caring mama. Following is his tribute to mama:

"Mama was and still is a very conservative woman. Growing up, I remember her being a strict mother especially when it comes to siesta or nap time and finishing meals for my siblings and I. Having a military man as a father, one would think that Papa was the disciplinarian in our family—but he was not.

"Being a grade school teacher, Mama was used to the chaos in classrooms. Since after marrying Papa, she retired early from work and became a full-time house wife, I think that her being firm with house rules and our behavior had something to do with her passion for teaching and disciplining misbehaved students.

"Nevertheless, Mama was a very caring wife and mother to all of us in the family. Even with her loss of memory due to old age, Mama still asks us if we had eaten our meals or slept well whenever we’re staying in her house in Baclayon.

"Even though we can no longer have a deep conversation with her or ask her for her advice on life decisions, my siblings and I still enjoy talking to her. And although she always disagrees when I say this, I will always see Mama as a beautiful mother, regardless of her white hair and wrinkles."

In a capsule, this sojourn was fully enjoyed playing tennis almost daily at nearby Baclayon Tennis Club, sight seeing the surrounding bucolic hills and fishing village with man-made mangrove forest and the view of two islets yonder; drinking moderately bahalina tuba, tandu-ay, emperador light, cuatro-cantos or bilog, with local pulutan, e.g., kinilaw na isda (dilis, tuna, tulingan, cuja shell), seaweed lato, ginamos; tuyom (bottled sea urchin gonad), lukot, and sea cucumber gonad; talakitok ihaw, inihaw na daing na pague (stingray), and tuna sashimi with Japanese wasabe, etc. Touring must-see-places at neighboring towns topped the agenda.

We also belted our vocal chords in a one-night sing-along session in the home of Joseph’s best friend Edwin. Pre-departure eve sent Lolo Ome in the company of Joseph and aide-de-camp Kim at the floating boat-resto-sing-along bar anchored steps behind the tennis court drinking cold beer and listening to visayan music, etc. The effect of Fanny’s sleep enhancer (cuatro-cantos this time) took its toll and he was left behind dreaming of the beautiful tour operator we encountered in the farewell dinner hosted by Nacing day before.

First visitation, of course, was the nearest Baclayon Parish Church and its museum overflowing with rich antique cultural art-displays dating back to the Spanish era. This church is said to be one of the oldest in the archipelago.

Next and foremost was the experience at the cultural capital of Bohol – Loboc. Cruising the-now-famous Loboc River we made sure because without which Bohol travel tour is not complete.

Still early for the cruise scheduled before eleven, we went to the horseback riding camp. With no attendant in sight and no mustang to ride on we headed back to the Loboc tour complex.

We patiently waited at the cozy tourism center, walked thru its world-class docking facilities, and partook enjoyably the sumptuous lunch offered aboard.

The one-hour river cruise started from Loboc tourism complex as the floating restaurant glided through the stream along palm-fringed banks inland up to the Busay falls, with lush mountains overlooking, and back.

Our eyes and ears were feted by cultural dancers and festive rondalla music resonating from the river banks along the way; and at a vantage point afar was the Loboc church, with its visible three-story convent and bell tower, said to be one of the oldest also.


Abundant natural forest exists in the Province of Bohol, as well as man-made, particularly here in Loboc. Proof is its ecotourism adventure park now offering aerial rides via zip-line and cable cars travelling the distance of about 1,000 meters back and forth from hilltop to hilltop traversing across Loboc River by the Busay Falls.

Youthful Nica and her boyfriend - long-haired Kevin who flew separately from Manila - cabled through and enjoyed inhaling up-up-and-away the coolness of the pollution-free breeze with its revitalizing effect soothing to weary souls. The oldies, however, didn’t even think trying - afraid the zip-line mechanical system would bog down; wary Lolo Fanny said he didn’t want his remaining borrowed life cut short with the plunge.

Bohol ever since is always associated with the world-renown “chocolate hills.” And so Joseph relieved his brother from the steering wheel and raced the Sportivo from Loboc to Carmen town for the nature’s majestic viewing, and back home.

Chocolate hills are considered one of the wonders of natures. During our visit, however, the over-a-thousand hills seemed no chocolate anymore; from a distance all were seemingly peppermint green candy hills, Nacing said in jest.

On our trip back home that day Nacing made sure we saw those tiny arboreal mammals endemic to the Province of Bohol – the tarsier with its big owl-eyes always protruding in life and on photos shown on tourist brochures. Yes, we took pictures; and oblivious of the warning signs, the camera-flush of Lolo Ome made the tarsier closed its sleepy eyes temporarily blinded until we were gone. Tarsier is so small it fits snugly inside one’s pocket.


At twilight time we crossed the Tagbilaran-Panglao span and went down the nature-made-century-old “Hinagdanan Cave” but didn’t splash through its huge underground fresh water cave pool. As usual we just took pictures thereabouts underground. The tour-guide in Nacing reminded us always that farting is verboten there inside.

The next day adventure stop was at the exclusive Bohol Beach Club in Bolod, Panglao Island. We enjoyed walking the white beach sand tickling our soles while coolly watching foreign ladies here and there sunbathing to the max almost the whole day; Lolo Ome in particular personally posing close-up with a new-found girl friend - Sayo San - a very young Danish Japanese beauty who swift his lonely septuagenarian heart away. Ruefully, he was born very much too early and she was born too late.


The young-ones, Nica and Kevin, clearly enjoyed the inviting freshness of the surrounding waters together, like fish in wide aquarium. While the once-young Fanny immersed for hours to clear hang-over after consuming a bottle of vodka with Kim.

The sweet-Fanny (as in panotcha – a rounded sweet coconut delicacy made of coco-milk cooked in brown sugar syrup looking like a man’s bald head - panot means bald) enjoyed to the max this sojourn complete with beach crab hunting incident that gave him the moniker, truly “The funniest Fanny.” Here is what happened before Joseph’s eyes:

"As we were walking along the Baluarte, I saw a dead sea urchin lying on the side of the pavement in half. Knowing that the slightest touch of the creature can cause painful pricks, I cautioned Fanny not to touch it. As expected, the ever curious Fanny bent down and felt the sea urchin’s exterior. Luckily, the sea creature being lifeless, he did not get pricked. Going down on the side of the Baluarte where it is just a step away from falling into the water, Fanny saw a tiny sea urchin floating nearby. Since he did not get wounded on his first attempt to touch a sea urchin (which was dead), he tried his luck once again and reached out for the little creature. This time, Fanny got a small and yet very painful prick on his hand. After having a firsthand experience on the pain of sea urchin injuries, Fanny then saw a vagrant of sea urchins near him as he walked along the side of Baluarte. Not wanting to get wounded again by the spiky sea creatures, Fanny panicked. The pavement being wet and slippery, he fell on the sea urchins he was trying to avoid, face down. Doing his best to hoist himself up from the fall, Fanny’s hands were painfully resting on the sea creatures’ spikes. As a result, Fanny left the Baluarte with pricks all over his abdomen and arms, a slight trauma of the area and an unforgettably interesting story to share with his close friends back home."

Memorable was this Baclayon sojourn of the septuagenarian. It was a belated gift-trip, a travel, a journey, an experience filled with adventures in our remaining twilight zone of our life. We savor more those really hilarious true-to-life jokes about Baclayonons’ travel in the metropolis; especially those relating to Kim’s in his own Visayan accent revelation. Truly, laughter is the best medicine that makes septuagenarian’s heart grows younger.

Early morning on our last day, we joined Pinong uphill trekking over-a kilometer-stretch to the tomb of his father made easy by walking idly and story telling with Kim along the way. After paying his homage and on the way down, he recalled and narrated “the story of the sepulcher and the parish priest” of Baclayon long, long ago as we pass by the century-old cemetery administration building.

“One pitched dark night in November many, many years before, two mischievous men gathered two sacks of fresh peanuts from someone’s farm. They would divide the loot equally inside that building. As offering for the dead they left two pieces of peanuts by the door and locked the building.

“To ensure fair division they would count the whole contents of the two sacks of peanuts one by one under a flickering candle light with the sound of the drizzling rain. They would thus count aloud: ‘This one is for me; that one is for you.’

“Midnight crowing of the roosters awaken the sepulcher who heard two people talking. He tried peeping around but door and windows were closed and would not see what they were doing. He would listen intently and would clearly hear repeatedly – ‘This one is for me; that one is for you.’

“Devout catholic as he was and superstitious, the sepulcher surmised it must be Satan and the Angel deciding who would go to hell and who would to heaven among the residents. Afraid and nervous he ran fast to fetch the priest from the convent at the town proper.

“Rousted from bed the priest run uphill with the sepulcher to verify what was that all about. They both listened more intently and would hear repeatedly the same dialogue – ‘This one is for me; that one is for you.’ It went louder since the counting was almost finished.

“Last they heard was – ‘Now we are finished, you would go your way and I would go my way. No, not yet, there were two more outside the door.’ Last words they heard, indeed, because they ran fast downhill so afraid that either of them or both would belong to Satan; and did not see the men opened the door and picked-up one each the peanut offering.”

End of the story; we would have to catch our flight back to Manila that 8th day of cupid’s month in the year of our Lord 2011.

Goodbye, Baclayon!