Halfway to Acoje

Exotic fruits from Acoje -- I would hear about them and even had the pleasure of tasting a few; but I wanted more. One would hear about wild cherry, wild pao, singsing karabaw, bunga ng uway, toksing, al-al-sim, and other things that even those who have lived most of their lives in deep Ilocano country have never even heard of. Unless of course one was from the very place of Acoje, which is perhaps as deep as you can get in these parts.


Several kilometers away from the main roads and developed infrastructure of Zambales and Tarlac, Acoje is an old mining community situated along the border of the two provinces and tucked away deep in the middle of rolling mountains -- or rather, should I say in the middle of nowhere?

Maybe it was the fruits; maybe it was the challenge of getting there; maybe it was the history and mystery of the place, almost mythical -- an isolated haven in the wilderness that graduates close-knit members bound by the common experience of having lived there. Whatever it was, I didn't bother planning. I just got up one day and decided that I just had to go to Acoje. So, I soon found myself on the path -- a never-ending path that is, or so it seemed. And, I also decided that I would walk all the way there.

Bad idea.

A few hours into the trek along a rocky arid path without the shade of trees, the searing heat and impending dehydration was definitely getting to me. I didn't have any water with me, so getting some was beginning to take priority. I was hoping to get some hydration assistance from a certain Nanay Kika Farm that I passed along the way. I hovered around the place for a good twenty minutes looking for a living soul -- at first knocking and bellowing a traveling "Tao po" that later mutated into a clamoring of the gate and calling, "Nanay Kikaaaaa! Nasaan kayooo," as if I knew the lady. But unfortunately, no one was home; or no one heard my pleas, at least.

Many people would have turned back by now and saved the battle for another day, a more favorable one along with a better strategy.  But, I've usually been the headstrong type; quite difficult to turn back once my interest has been hooked or, as in this case, once I am already knee-deep into a situation -- pot-committed and past the point of no return, one could say. Good thing I brought some raisins and sesame seeds with me though -- snacks that fueled Roman soldiers during lengthy journeys.  But apparently I didn't bring enough to get the desired effect.  Munching away, my energy levels rose a little bit.   But soon I found myself lacking the saliva to sufficiently masticate and swallow these dried morsels -- leaving my mouth sticky and noticeably causing obstruction and difficulty during inhalation.

Lucky for me, I eventually came across a stream flowing from the nearby mountains.  Immediately, I climbed down and crouched next to the stream, cupping handfuls of water into my thirsty mouth -- with such fervor and urgency that I clearly did not even concern myself with the area's heavy mining history that could have very well left many of the nearby water sources contaminated.  (No ill effects thus far).

Belly full and rocking with water, I continued the trek towards "Neverland." By this time, I fancied Acoje to be an oasis in the middle of this semi-desert, though this was doubtful.  A light at the end of the tunnel maybe?  A neon 7-Eleven sign rising from Acoje maybe?  No.

It was certainly looking like it didn't matter anyway, since every mountain I seemed to get over would only leave me with a view (a pretty nice view, by the way) of the next mountain that I would have to conquer (or not).  At this point, I was not murmuring divine names mixed with curse words... I was shouting them.  But even this desperate act could no longer muster any more energy reserves from an already seemingly depleted body and worse, a beaten spirit.

The same cycle awaited, in reverse.  Recursion indeed; maybe this was really a never-ending repetition -- a loop to tell me that this was not the day for me to reach Acoje.  The existence of an underlying reason for this outcome?  Perhaps.  Or maybe it was just random -- something that just happened, and leaving me to make something out of it.  Disappointing if nothing else, but at least the cool of the evening was there to pacify and lick the wounds of a failed attempt at reaching the fabled Acoje, by foot.