Monday, January 30, 2012

Hiking matters #231: Winter trekking in the picturesque town of Monschau, Germany


BRUSSELS, BELGIUM - I am here in Belgium for the weekend, as a guest of my fraternity brod, Dr. Philip Cruz. This brod of mine was so nice that, knowing that I am an avid climber, he decided that we will do a hike in spite of the frigid temperatures! (It would have been much easier to just sip Stella Artois in Brussels.) "But there are no mountains in Belgium!" I told him, pleasant. His response: "That's not a problem, we're going to Germany!"

So off we went, while Djokovic battled Nadal in the Australian Open finals, to the picturesque town of Monschau in the Aachen region of Germany, 150 kilometers away from Brussels. I'd forgotten my fleece layers in Amsterdam, but I had enough clothing to attempt a sub-zero hike. For trail food, strofwaffels - a Dutch delicacy - was in order.
After just two hours, we had arrived in Deutschland. Monschau was beautiful in a quaint, bucolic way, and I loved it the moment I set foot on that town. Ruins of ancient castles, and a spectacular forest surrounded the town, as did hills that were obscured by the winter mist.
Our planned route for the hike was a loop around the town, passing by some nice ruins and getting a taste of the Eifel National Park and its extensive network of trails, considered one of Germany's best. Of course, the 300 kms from Aachen to Trier was something I would love to do in the future, but considering the temperature (-5 degrees Celsius) and limited time (I would have to rush back to Amsterdam for my classes), we were not too ambitious. Just to be able to hit the trails, even for a moment, would have sufficed to make me happy.
Light snow was falling when we started treking. Though the mist limited our view, what we saw was more than enough as a feast for the eyes. When the whole town of Monschau came to view, for instance, I was overwhelmed by the sheer loveliness of it.
After reaching a small chapel which also overlooked Monschau, we descended back to some centuries-old paths to go up again, this time to the ruins of a medieval castle. I explored a bit further to see the trails leading to the forest, and I was really tempted to go further and further! But the threat of heavier snow pulled me back.
Still, there were a couple more attractions that awaited me: The 13th century Monschau castle, with some structures still intact, and as a finale, we passed by a little waterfall (more like a 'vertical brook') on the way back, with a couple of bridges passing through it.
Back in Monschau, the celebratory meal was in order, in true German fashion: fritten (fries), bratwurst (sausage), and sauerkraut (fermented cabbage). Although it is actually just a very short trek, probably at the level of Mt. Manalmon in the Philippines, this is my first hike of the year, and I am really very glad about it, and I am uber-thankful to my brod for his hospitality and kindness. Now, I am ready to go back to Amsterdam!
PS: Most of the things I've been seeing and doing here in Europe are non-hiking related so I can't write about them here. Too bad I'm not a travel blogger! Then again, I like it just the way it is. I like hiking more :)

Monday, January 23, 2012

Hiking matters #230: Aerial view of the Alps, the great mountain range of Europe

AMSTERDAM - I love to take aerial shots of mountains, that's why I always request for a window seat despite the inconvenience of it -- and I also always try to bring a camera. I will never forgive myself for not having a camera, when, on a flight to GenSan, I saw the full majesty of Mt. Apo flanked by Talomo, and with Matutum in front of it! Last year I had a great aerial shots of Bicol mountains (Hiking matters #184).
Yesterday, on my return flight from Milan - and just as the sun was about to set - I got great shots of the Alps, the great mountain range of Europe that straddles several countries and is home to some of the most famous mountains of the world: Mont Blanc, Matterhorn, Jungfrau, among many others. It is a great consolation that even though I won't get to hike during this trip, at least, I got to see the mountains!
They were truly beautiful!

Saturday, January 21, 2012

Essay: I dream of Mt. Ragang, and I dream of peace in Mindanao

by Gideon Lasco

GENOA, ITALY - Here I am at the heart of the Italian Riviera, yet I dream of Mt. Ragang, the "Blue Mountain" in Lanao del Sur, one of the highest mountains in the Philippines. Perhaps it is because it has been a year since I first saw this mountain, from Mt. Kalatungan in Bukidnon. Yet, I have always thought of Mt. Ragang ever since I had to compile the list of the highest mountains in the Philippines. I have always wanted to climb it.

Mt. Ragang, at 2815 MASL, is one of the ten highest mountains in the Philippines. Also known as Mt. Piapayungan or Blue Mountain, it is the highest active volcano in the country. Based on what little we know about this mountain, it also has one of the most pristine forests we have. And yet, Mt. Ragang is the highest mountain in the Philippines that cannot be climbed. In fact, it has not even been documented as having been climbed!

It cannot be climbed because it is at the heart of the conflict that has cast the whole island of Mindanao under a perception of danger (unrightfully so: most of Mindanao is actually peaceful). Rumors surround this mountain. Some say there is a rebel fortress within it. Even the officials of the towns surrounding it say it is too dangerous to venture there. One tourism officer with whom I talked over the phone confessed to me that being "tourism officer" in their area is an irony in itself.

The veteran climbers tell me that there were attempts to climb Ragang before, and they tell tales of negotiations, of protection money being asked by some sides of the conflict, but ultimately, they all decided that it was too dangerous.

Yet, I still dream of Ragang, and I have faith that someday, we will be able to climb it. When I was in Maguindanao, I accidentally dropped my cellphone on a jeepney, and gave up hope of ever finding it, until, that same day, I was contacted by a family who lives at the foot of Mt. Ragang. They asked how they can return the phone that they picked up; they said that they are returning the phone because they are good Muslims. However, Zhamir, my Muslim friend, was the one who introduced himself as owner of the phone. If I were the one, would they have returned it? It takes some element of faith to see the goodness within people.

Returning what rightfully belongs to another is the crux of the conflict, and we need good people - Muslims and Christians alike - to join hands to make this happen. This is of course a very complex issue, and I have neither the right nor the knowledge to prescribe any specifics. I leave it up to those who are active in their fight for peace. But what I can offer is hope, and the willingness to return to that part of the country if there is an opportunity to demonstrate the potential (if not the realization) of peace.

Time is of the essence. When I first came to Mindanao in 2005, I spent a week at the highlands of Sultan Kudarat where there is no electricity and where we had to take baths in the river. There we visited the Manobo tribes, and when they found out that I was from Manila, they told me something I will never forget: "Tell them how much we suffer." Each day that hunger, displacement, illness, hidden violence, discrimination, and lost opportunity comes upon them is a great loss, a hemorrhage which we cannot allow to continue.

Even amid difficulty, however, I have seen the generosity and grace of the people of Mindanao. As a medical doctor with a deep interest in folk ways of healing, I have met acceptance instead of suspicion among indigenous villages that are Bagobo, Manobo, B'laan, Talaandig, and Tausug; the dignity by which the lumads cling on to their way of life is admirable, and my memories are as vivid as the garments of the T'boli or the finest cloth of the Samal. The generosity of the people I have met is too compelling to dissociate with the notion of hope that I harbor. Furthermore, the mountaineers I've met are very nice and I think of Mijan in Bukidnon, the Ateneo de Davao Mountaineers, Basil of Dipolog, among many others.

Yet this hope is tempered by the reality that danger truly exists. After climbing Mt. Kalatungan in Bukidnon, I experienced hiding behind a door of a village hut when some bandits arrived, and for a moment, I was actually afraid that something bad might happen in such a lawless environment. I have also experienced being hosted by some powerful politicians in Mindanao, and the level of protection that they employ by way of high walls, bodyguards and firearms is quite astounding.

On the other hand, the tranquility of Mindanao is undeniable in a vast section of the island, and even though it is difficult to dissociate perception from reality, I have to try. Indeed, there are so many mountains in Mindanao that can be climbed without fear of harm. Vast sections of Tawi-Tawi, which I visited in 2006, are peaceful and I still remember walking around Sibutu island in the dusk. So close by was progressive Malaysia, proof that Islam can represent peace and progress. Unfortunately, the generalization of "Mindanao" has done harm to its repute, but not only that, there is also the generalization of the Philippines itself as a land of conflict.

Amid all these, and more, there lies Mt. Ragang, the Blue Mountain. If it could speak from the depths of its embers, what would it tell us, having seen what lies hidden from the view? Will it cry out? The sorry suspicion I have is: it will thank the fog of war for protecting it from the ills that have befallen mountains elsewhere: destruction. Indeed, if we are to achieve peace in Mindanao, what implication does it mean to a mountain like Ragang? We must be careful lest the price of peace become too much for a mountain to bear.

Nonetheless, we cannot pay the toll for this conflict forever, for the toll that I speak of is the disruption of our dreams. For me, it is to climb a mountain, but for many, it is to live decent, peaceful, meaningful lives, or simply to live, to survive, to breathe the air of freedom. The image of that old Manobo man who told me "Tell them how we suffer" still clings to me, and even though I did what he asked me to do by publishing their story in a national newspaper, his real dream, unspoken, ought also to be realized.

I dream of Mt. Ragang because I dream of peace in Mindanao, and I know that the only way for mountaineers to climb that beautiful mountain is for peace to descend in that beautiful land. This descent is not like rain which comes and goes by the whim of the Divine; there is no rain dance to call upon peace, only the long road of development which goes hand in hand with freedom. The people I have met in Mindanao give me reason to hope, and if in my lifetime my dream comes true, the summit would truly be a sight to behold. God bless Mindanao! You are homeland of my memories, and I always look forward to my return.

Genoa, Italy
January 21, 2012

Hiking matters #229: The Alps at first sight / Beautiful Genoa in the Italian Riviera


GENOA, ITALY - Here I am at the heart of the Italian Riviera, in the ancient port city of Genoa in Northern Italy. The beauty of this place, and the rich cuisine and delicious wines are simply overwhelming. Even the winter is warmer than usual, and for me, anything above zero feels pleasant.

The significance of Genoa in world history is its rich maritime heritage, and one of its most famous son is none other than Christopher Colombus, whose house I was able to visit. Genoa is almost home to a host of other famous people, like the composer Nicolo Paganini. I love it here and I am grateful to the hospitality of my Genovese tita and tito Julia and Fabrizio.
On the way to Genoa, I had to fly to Milan from Amsterdam, and while in flight and even after I arrived at the airport, the view of the Italian Alps was breathtaking, and personally significant to me considering that this is my first time to see the famous Alps of Europe - practically the birthplace of mountaineering.

I am not sure about the names of the peaks that I saw, nor I want to delve into specifics. There is a time for everything, and I am here in Europe to study, not to climb and my home base of Amsterdam is not As I said in PM Facebook, "A mountain climber in the Netherlands is like a diver in the desert." Bahala na, or as the Italians would say it: Comunque vada. Meanwhile, I will enjoy the beautiful Italian Riviera.

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