Many people generally fear Friday the 13th. This fear of the number 13 is called triskaidekaphobia. In practice, even popular personalities and institutions avoided the number. As taken from Pinoyblog, posted on March 13, 2009, many hospitals have no room 13, some tall buildings skip the 13th floor and some air terminals omit Gate 13. President Franklin D. Roosevelt would not travel on the 13th of any month and would never host 13 guest at a meal.
As I never feared the number 13, not even Friday the 13th, I never placed any meaning on whatever happens to me on that day. I treat the day the way I will treat any other day. Yet, last Friday, the second month of this year with a Friday on the 13th, somebody pinpointed to me that the adventure we are having might be because of the date.
We were visiting private secondary schools in Mountain Province for their recertification. We started on Monday at Saint Mary’s School in Sagada, Tuesday at St. James High School of Besao. That day, we started traversing the road to Natonin with a plan to stay at an inn in Barlig, a municipality half way to Natonin. Everything was perfect until we reached Poblacion, Barlig. Since we try our best to make use of all daylight time, we considered staying at Barlig a waste of time for there is still light so we decided to reach Kadaclan, a barangay of Barlig and stay there for the night. I agreed though I know that we will reach the place by night time for it was already 6:00PM then.
I know that the Kadaclan Road is very steep and it is a road to avoid especially when it rains. Yet, on the other hand, it did not rain and so I agreed. Moreover, the only inn in Kadaclan is owned by a fatherly friend whom I have not talked to for some years, so reaching the place is a double treat for my companions and a triple treat for me. We will be able to cover more land, stay at Kadaclan dubbed as the Shangrila on the edge and I will be able to socialize with one of the wise men I have met in my life.
It did not take us too long to realize that we might have made the wrong decision. It did not rain before Poblacion, Barlig but it rained after it. And so our ride took its time to walk instead of run. I estimated we will reach Kadaclan by past 7:00 PM but we reached it by 8:30 with our hearts almost at our mouths. The steep and slippery road and the dark, hardly dispersed by our light, enveloping us made us reflect why we did not hire a jeep instead to take us to Natonin - a ride that is used to traversing such. We remembered asking anybody we encountered at any chance we have if the Adventure car we have can traverse to Natonin. I have been there and I was a little bit doubtful but many of those we asked from would say, “Yes, your only problem is if it will rain.” I myself had been to the place for about four times already and hearing the assurance that without the rain, things will be fine, I agreed. But now, we are already contemplating that the car will not be able to make it back to Bontoc on the steep and slippery road, yet, we smiled and kept mum about it.
We slept at Kadaclan and whatever tiredness we felt was washed away by the warm welcome of the people especially the owner of Homestay Inn. The fear was completely forgotten when we woke up in the morning and took a view of the Shangrila on the edge. The view was fantastic making my companions vow to return and take a hike on the virgin forests of Kadaclan.
The way to Immaculate Heart High School in Poblacion, Natonin from Kadaclan was smooth sailing. We reached Natonin by 10:00 AM. We were to sleep at San Roque Inn, a former hospital but now being operated as an inn by the Catholic Church. Though I have slept there already for about two times already, I have not met any experience with the “ghosts” stories that I have heard from many. That night has no difference with all nights I’ve been there for I still slept like a baby until I woke up and realized that my rubber slipper which I used when I went to the bathroom at around 7:00Pm was still wet by 4:00 AM and the night was warm.
We decided to go out of Natonin not via the Kadaclan road for accordingly, the road to Paracelis is “mayat” in our dialect, meaning good, fine, okay. And, one principal even jokingly told me that I should have come when the road was still not fixed so I would have tried the real road situation before. I laughed and I said, “God knows His time so He knew the right time to bring me here.”
What a time it was. We did not travel for 30 minutes when we met our first tragedy. Our car stuck and we cannot move it until another car not really bigger than ours had to pull it out. Thinking things will be fine, I started walking telling them to pick me up along the way. Admiring the beauty that surrounds me, I did not really notice the murky road and the time. It was after I walked for about an hour that I started wondering why they have not yet reached me. I was about to turn around but I decided against it when I saw that I have been going down and hiking up is so tiring even if I have not yet started it.
So, I continued hiking thinking to stop at the first sight of a house, but then, another hiker came. According to him, he hikes from Poblacion, Natonin to Tapao, a sitio of Saliok, Natonin for about three hours only. It was then a relief for me to have a company but after hiking for almost an hour again and the car is not yet in sight, I became too worried. So, I have to ask a driver of a jeepney on the way up to let my companions know where I am.
When we reached Saliok, I had to separate with my companion since he was going another way and I am supposed to wait for the car and I also wanted to visit a public secondary school there. Yet, while I was talking to somebody, I heard and saw the car coming. I had to give up going to the school, relieved that the car was able to traverse accordingly, “the worst part of the road.” They stopped at the bridge to pick me up and when they came out, I feel guilty for not helping them. I already figured that they had a hard time along the way since the two guys are very muddy. To assure them, I had to echo what the residents said, that the worst is over.
However, driving for less than 10 minutes, we came to a very slippery road again. The car cannot go up. The two guys with us, went down to help by pushing the car but since it’s so slippery and they themselves slipped, it had been more dangerous than helpful. They did all things they know, but even with all of them – the driver, the two guys and even the car – pushing themselves to their physical limits, the car did not move. And so, thinking that “bayanihan” is not yet dead anywhere in the Philippines, I went back to the community to ask for volunteers to help us and to get a spade.
Yet, when we were coming back, wonder of wonders, the car accordingly moved and is running. So, I thanked the volunteers with me and proceeded. However, when I reached the car, it was stuck again, in a bend about a hundred meters away from where it was stuck when I left it. This time, it cannot really move. As we were contemplating our next move, people began pouring in. Men in motor, men walking and a yellow car that seemed to have been sent by God on the right time. They said that the best way to remedy the situation is for the yellow car to pull our car. The problem? There was no big and sturdy rope that they have. And so, I had to go down to the community again to ask if not to buy. And then we met male teachers from the public high school who heard that somebody from DepEd was stuck at the road. I asked if they have a rope, big, sturdy and long enough for the purpose. They said that they have a rope made from abaca made by the students. They said that it could do the work and so we had to wait. Our car was pulled from that portion till Tapao, about four kilometers away. We were only able to move out because of the concerted effort and helpfullness of the people, including the students who made the project.
We sighed when we reached Paracelis. After eating, we started again to Alfonso Lista, Ifugao. We were very much assured by the people (again?) that we will be safe till we reach Ifugao. All the roads are fine. We were laughing at our last adventure, assured that such kind is finished. Our laughter faded when we realized that our car cannot go up a slippery road again. It was a little bit hard, for my conscience was bothered, to ask the tired men from the field and those on their way home to help but then there came willing hands again. This time, they will not push the car for it is too dangerous and slippery. What they did was to pull the car, for it was a lot safer. They tied a rope and with all the men’s strength, pulled the car up to a safe ground.
We were relieved for at last, we are on the road again but the Regional Director for FAPE who was with us was so worried with the car that we decided not to go directly to Mayoyao, Ifugao but to Santiago, Isabela to have the car checked. We were only able to sleep by about 10:30 that night – a normal five hour ride took us about 11-12 hours.
The next morning, Friday the 13th, we were assured that the priest in-charge of the school will pick us up on his way from Lagawe, Ifugao. However, we decided to just go in convoy instead. The two men with us rode with the priest while we stayed in the car. After riding for about an hour, the priest called us to come back and pick up our two companions for his car has a problem. Jokingly, our driver insinuated that they were the bad luck of yesterday and that day since the car they are in gets stuck. We took things as just plainly jokes. However after another 30 minutes, our car cannot climb the slippery mountain again. The car was not really built for such. The two were the butt of jokes again. We had to turn the car and stay at a safe place while thinking of our next move.
When a truck came, we asked if we, the three certifiers, can ride with them so, we will be able to fulfill the reason that we were there. They agreed. However, when we were on the same spot that our car cannot traverse, the truck got stuck also. I looked at the two and tried to make a remark meant as a joke but also to emphasize that they really seem to be the bad luck but I saw their faces and I can’t continue. I saw how downfallen they are. I just smiled and tried to help them.
Minutes flew and the car that was supposed to go and help the priest was coming up again with our other companions. Since the road was wide enough, the car was able to pass the struggling truck. They stopped to wait for us to change ride. The faces of our two companions can’t be spelled. They seemed to refuse to transfer but at the same time welcome it. They seemed not to have taken a breath until we reached the cemented roads of Aguinaldo. The two refused to take their lunch and one of them kept on puffing cigarettes. It was only when we were on our way to Mayoyao that they voiced out how they feel, that if the last car that took us got stuck, they will really believe that they are the “bad luck”. And so, thankfully, we were so happy to note that we reached our destination without further mishap only with me in rubber slippers ( I forgot to get my shoes which I removed when we first got stuck) and my companions are in muddy shoes and sandal.
We rode the bus back to where we left our car. Everything was running fine except when we again reached another slippery road. We have to wait for a truck to pass through before we can pass. The truck got stuck there for almost 15 minutes but we were able to pass.
We realized we had been on the road for more than 24 hours already with almost the same predicament in two provinces. Yet, I believe, things will be better in two or three years time since improvements on the road started already.
Relieved on our way home, somebody commented, “Have you realized it is Friday the 13th?” I have not thought of it, but now, . . Of course, I still believe the date had nothing to do with our experience. I still consider that experience as one of the most fruitful ones. It had proven once more that Filipinos are more than what they are made for. And, after all, who would recent a 13th month pay?
