Touring with Chris
5th of 5 Installments

By Dominique Garde Torres (Nikki)

Author's Note: These are my personal impressions about the writing seminar with Chris Eboch, which was sponsored by the Philippine chapter of the Society of Children's Book Writers & Illustrators (SCBWI) in Manila on July 15 and 16, 2006. Chris is the Regional Advisor for SCBWI New Mexico, and the author several of books including The Well of Sacrifice, a young adult historical fiction set in 9th century Guatemala. - Dominique Garde Torres (Nikki)

Many eons ago, I was a fit person. I would jog at least four kilometers daily and took my karate so seriously that I would occassionally have to wear pants and long sleeves to work to hide the bruises.

That was eleven years and twenty pounds ago.

When I learned that our guest Chris wanted to get to know the Philippines beyond the four walls of her designated classroom, I pitched in eagerly with suggestions about her itinerary. With courage, we proposed trips from North to South, our only condition being that the areas be within three hours of Manila. It may sound nasty but we didn't want to send Chris out of Luzon in the middle of the typhoon season. We we were afraid that storms might ground some flights and that she would not make it back for the all important workshop!

Anyway, I suspect with all our suggestions, poor old Chris just decided to sit back and see where her crazy hosts would take her.

Tagaytay

On Tuesday, the 11th, I picked her up bright and early - we were going to Tagaytay to see a volcano. Off we went. The first mini-adventure was our search for a place to eat breakfast. I wanted, I really wanted to introduce the woman to the joys of a heavy Filipino breakfast. Alas, the only place open was MacDonald's. Silly, really silly. An American travels thousands of miles to a tropical country to be fed MacDonald's food!

Anyway, as we were eating, our driver Cilet who is also my friend was negotiating with a couple of men about the rest of our day. As we exited the restaurant - everything was set. For a fee (sounded like a lot in pesos, tiny in dollars), we would take a banca (native boat) to the volcanic island, bring a picnic lunch and have the joy of climbing up the mountain to the lip of the crater.

And so we did. We climbed onto the banca and endured a very wet ten minute trip to the island. With us were our packs (I was protecting mine since I had in it my SCBWI files - I thought I could read them on the volcano's crater) and the huge, very nicely packed picnic basket. The water was choppy and there was a very slight drizzle. A minute or so away from the isle, we started smelling the place. It smelled of horse dung. Very distinctly so. I learned later that there were 900 horses on the island, kept there for tourists who wanted an easier way up the volcano. We started our trek, refusing all offers of guidance. After all, turn left and you fall into a ravine. Turn right and you slip down a cliff.

The path was muddy in parts, rocky in others. We were surounded by the forest with all its sights, sounds and smells. It was green, very green, with plenty of lush foliage. As Chris was walking and I was crawling up the path, we would pause every once in a while to take it all in (and in my case, catch my breath). Finally, four kilometers later, we reached the top and it was well worth the climb. It really was.

We looked straight down into the crater of the volcano. It looked like a lake, not anyone's image of a crater. No craggy rocks, no lava, nothing. But the water was clearly smoking, and it was surrounded by more foliage and little pockets on the ground that also spewed smoke.

Here we sat and enjoyed our picnic basket. They had packed it with china dishes, complete sets of utensils, serving dishes, serving spoons and even sauce! As we sat there, a new group of tourists arrived. They were Taiwanese or Korean, I think. The women were in very impractical heels and sandals, and unlike us, they had spent on horses rental.

Going down, there was a bit more traffic. I do not exaggerate when I say there were easily a hundred horses going up and down the mountain. Poor pedestrians that we were, we had to move to the side of the path to let the horses go first.

The trip back across the lake was much, much wetter than before. The banca was literally bouncing on the water and both rain and lake water splashed us everywhere. It was exhilarating.

From Taal, we went on a rather long road trip to nowhere in particular and ended up in the Mabini shrine in Tanauan, Batangas. The sublime paralytic of the Philippine Revolution had his coffin and various effects on display in a zen like white museum in his hometown. Along with a bunch of school children we looked the place over and I did my very best to give Chris an accurate overview of the stuff we were staring at. After that, we had merienda of bulalo (native bone marrow soup) and made a brief stop at the grocery for supplies. Then home we went, exhaustet but utterly satisfied.

Batangas

On Wednesday the 12th, the Nazareth school very kindly arranged for one of Lipa's tourist officers to tour us around the city after Chris' school visit. The name of the tour guide is Aylene and wonder of wonders, she and I have met before. Really, this world is very small.

First she took us to the ancestral home of Segunda Katigback, purportedly the first love of Philippine National Hero Jose Rizal. It was a lovely old Spanish style house with a beautiful azotea (balcony). Most of the original furniture was there and family pictures, past and present were prominently displayed. We were toured by her descendant, a sweet old lady who gladly told us ALL about her family. She kept talking and talking and talking - it was obviously a topic very close to her heart.

Following this, we visited the Carmelite convent where petals were supposed to have rained down on a miraculous statue of the Virgin Mary. The place had become a shrine for Marian devotees from all over the country.

Our final stop was the Lipa Cathedral, a huge church in the center of town. We had to run from the car to the church and were still nearly drenched as the rain came pouring down. It was a big cavernous place with lots of paintings on the wall and with a really beautiful if rather dimly lit altar.

This ended our Batangas trip. As we drove home, the rain came pouring down and it truly felt like a typhoon in full swing. Conversation centered on possible floods and consequences for our next day's trip. Subic On Thursday the 13th we were supposed go north and visit Subic but the storm and common sense kept us all home instead and in bed (at least that's where I was).

Manila

On Friday the 14th, the day before the big day, the day before The Workshop, we decided to be prudent and just tour Manila.

This actually started off as a long, long ride with a clueless driver and moi - a person with no sense of direction - trying to find Adarna House, the biggest and oldest children's book publishers in the country. With great determination we asked security guards, jeepney drivers, trycicle drivers and pedestrians along the way. Finally, after an hour and a half, we found it. It took me two minutes to get hold of the the LCD projector, which was the main purpose of my errand there, and less than 10 minutes for Chris to tour the entire area. Five or so minutes of interviewing the staff about the books they published and we were done. Back to the car and another hour and half ride back to Manila. Sigh... I hope Chris doesn't think I deliberately trapped her in a car in the middle of traffic so I can pick her brains dry. I did, I confess, take advantage of the time for conversation but I swear, I never planned the traffic.

After lunch and more talk, I took her to my second home - the Cultural Center of the Philippines.

From the 4th floor to the 1st floor, we took a tour conducted by moi. I showed her our museums, our library, our galleries and even the stuff stuck to walls of our hallways. We even had the pleasure of hearing the CCP Choir rehearse! I don't really want to describe what we saw as I am completely and totally biased. I think my building needs a lot of repair but it is still underrated as a place for touring. Most people come here just to watch shows, but there is so much more to us than that! Finally we were in a place where I could and did answer 99% of her questions with confidence. We ended up in the gift shop where Chris donated to the cost of maintaining the CCP by doing a tiny bit of Christmas shopping.

From there we went to the Children's Museum. Chris and I had fun here, playing alongside the children who were there. We touched everything that could be touched, turned all the knobs, climbed up whatever ladders were there. Chris even went rock climbing and I took a photo of her behind the waterfall. There was this one really cute little boy who became my friend, who asked to be carried so he could view the kaleidoscope and who kept smiling at me. Fortunately his father didn't take me for an ax murderer or kidnapper but just as a fan of his adorable son, so he let us play together for a while.

Then back to Orchid to make sure all was set up for the following morning. I think I may have shocked Chris a bit with the way I was bossing around the poor waiters. Alas, my CCP training kicked in and I wanted things done just so and the set up finished by a particular time. I did remember to say "Thank you" to the hapless young men who helped us out at the venue. Then to bed, to bed for a night of rest in preparation for "Putting the Story in History."

Makiling

By Tuesday the 17th when all the workshops and school visits and other "official functions" were over and done with, we were convinced that Chris: (a) loved nature; and (b) loved hiking and walking So this is what we kept making her do.

Right after the PHSA School Visit we proceeded to their cute little guest house near the church. Beaulah and Mark promptly fell into their beds and slept. Chris and I just as promptly set out for a walk. We passed by the beautiful chapel set by the side of the road, seemingly part of the forest. We walked a bit more, went behind the ballet studio and made formal offerings to Mariang Makiling, the Lady of the Mountain. We walked and talked and walked and talked. The road was asphalt but on either side of us loomed the forest, verdant and green. We ended up at the ruins of the cafeteria by the pool where we had dinner later that evening.

The next morning we woke up bright and early to a very heavy breakfast. After baths in freezing cold water, we were ready to face the day. First we drove down the mountain and asked for directions to the "Magnetic Hill." This was a spot along the road where supposedly, if one's car was put on neutral, it would neverthelss continue climbing up the hill. The guard said, "Just follow this road." One lady said, "It's just past the spot where water drips." Naturally we missed "the spot where the water drips" and had to double back. But we found The Magnetic Hill eventually and can now say from firsthand experience that "Yes, it is true. You do continue moving up!" when you put your car into neutral.

Then we went to the boyscout camp where we hiked up and down the trails. To my delight, even Beaulah joined us for part of the way while Mark was there all the time. Never mind that part of this young man's mission was to take videos of us looking silly as we hiked - it was good to have more people on the trail. Here we saw the caged chicken, heard the noisy geese and climbed up and up and up to what seemed the peak of the hill. There was a huge swimming pool which we would have jumped into if it were not empty, ruined houses which the forest was reclaiming and cottages for vacationists and campers. Hmmm....next summer I shall take my family here.

Our final stop was a nature camp within the University of the Philippines in Los Baños campus. Just as we got to the botanical garden's museum the rain cam pouring down, trapping us inside the cavernous auditorium for a while. A nice man put on a movie about conserving nature and we sat and watched that for a bit. After that was over, Chris, Mark and I started getting impatient and decided to hike in the rain. Following the signs posted along the way, we decided to search for the raptors. I confess now that I had no idea that raptors were eagles. I was actually thinking of velociraptors of Steven Spielberg and Jurassic Park fame. Silly me - several days of being surrounded by jungle and hiking was obviously addling my already addled brain!

Anyway, we finally found them and they were sad. Sorry but they were. There they were, in the middle of so much lovely green, their natural environment, and they could not fly! They were in small cages, barely enough for their wings to spread properly. One bird escaped and was serenely sitting atop his cage. He looked happy.

Then away we went for home. First though, we had to stop by Jollibee. After feeding Chris MacDonald's twice, we felt duty bound to have Chris visit own version of a fastfood burger chain.

Epilogue

Thus endeth the five part saga also known as The Visit of Chris Eboch. Saying goodbye was a bit of a letdown. Suddenly it was all done. I felt like a deflated balloon. Pfft!

Aside from what she actually came here to teach, Chris showed me that my legs are still intact and that I am not as decrepit as I once thought. I can still walk and walk and walk. Very personal thanks from me to you Chris for showing me that both mentally and physically, I can still do "it," whatever "it" may be.

There are many, many, many more images of this story that remain in my mind. There is the tourist, giggling his head off as he watched me stumble down Taal; the tour guide, gleefully telling us of how Jean Claude Van Damme climbed the mountain; the recruitment poster for priests asking young men to join "The Men in Brown;" Carla Pacis sneaking in late into the workshop and quietly eating her breakfast at the back of the room; riding with Chris in a van as it crawled through floods and traffic in search of Adarna and the LCD projector; listening to "Oh What a Beautiful Morning" as the St. Scho children wrote; trying to convince Mark that the never ending rain was normal and NOT a "climactic change....."

So many, many memories. But, as Chris says, you need not put everything in, only that which pushes the story forward.

So thank you Chris, thank you Beaulah, thank you everyone who was a part of this endeavor and thank you, thank you dear reader for following this story to its end.

Wakas (The End)

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