Discovering Lake Sebu

Hearing news and watching documentaries about how rich my land is not enough. Living by its promise as it is called the Land of Promise doesn’t enrich my soul to the fullest. Discovering its treasures with my own naked eyes and tiresome feet is the only thing that can satisfy my longings. So I set to travel the often-neglected gems by my fellow Mindanaoans.

Lake Sebu as I heard it boasts of its culture. So I started my one-day travel to that place not with luxurious car or public vehicle but with just a single motorcycle. Excitement begins here.

Armed with just words for inquiry, we have no maps at all. Just a little research in the Internet has been our guide. After an hour travel passing Davao City, we reached Davao del Sur where I was met by rolling mountains linked to the endless seashore.

The inconvenience of road reconstruction even added to my desire to move forward till we reached the place called Baluyan known as the little Baguio by the locals. Its popular description lived up to its geography as we trekked the snake of roads just chopped on the mountain sides.

I couldn’t contain myself. What I saw prompted me to stop for a while as we gazed the whole Davao del Sur and Davao City from the highest altitude. I felt like a bird in the blue skies as the ship on the vast sea seemed so small to my eyes with the strong winds passing through my sides.

We continued on our way to General Santos City where I was amazed by the hills planted with sugarcanes till we reached the City of Tuna. Though we were there, we never had the chance to taste their tuna but I saw the large tuna factories lining the seashore.

Well-constructed roads led us to Polomoloc, South Cotabato – where the third world’s largest pineapple produce was found. No wonder the place got that ranking because from the side of the road to the rolling hills as far as the eyes can see, all were planted with pineapples. One can feel the coldness of the air.

But it was not harvest time so I was a little dismayed not to see a single fruit. Yet we were able to taste the variety of MG 3 pineapple sold at their market. I felt not a single stinging feeling in my tongue. It was my wish to take a picture with ripe pineapples on my background but that seemed impossible now.

Mischievous as I am, I just bought a single pineapple, placed it on top of the plant and there I took my lifetime souvenir of photo. Farmers were laughing at what we did but we just enjoyed the moment and show our appreciation of the place.

It was projected that we could reach our destination in about three hours. We were supposed to pass by Surallah but where was it? It has been two hours. Reality dawned on me that we were lost already. We could still arrive there according to the majority of Ilonggos we asked but it would take another two hours.

Yet the delay did not disappoint me at all. Perhaps God intended for us to get lost because He wanted us to see the magnificence of the Sultan Kudarat Provincial Capitol. My eyes wandered at the Islamic structure of its building. It proves the royalty of our Muslim brothers as I could feel the atmosphere of the great palace of the East.

It was a little dim when we arrived at Lake Sebu to find a place to stay overnight. The lake was very peaceful yet the tilapias were restless as we caught 3 fishes ourselves with a little help from the locals. Catching them was never easy. The thirty-minute wait for the fish to take my bait prolonged my hunger. But the fulfillment of feeling the pull of the fish on the bait activated my adrenaline.

What was more rewarding was enjoying the sumptuous meal from our own catch. The taste of tilapia here was so different. So fresh that one could never have the smell of the mud unlike in my place.

We took a peaceful rest shivering a little from the coldness of the wind. Picturesque sunrise by the lake welcomed the new day. The serenity of the water was so inviting but I never committed the mistake of swimming since the lake was deep according to the locals.

As we headed toward the seven waterfalls of Dongon, we passed by several women in their T’boli attire. We never missed the chance of talking to them and taking a picture yet we cannot understand their language. The only word I understood was “pilak” which means she was asking for money so we shared our blessings.

Checking the motorcycle’s brakes, I couldn’t almost breathe from fear. The cliff on the side of the rocky narrow road was so steep. I saw a smoke coming from a distance. I asked myself why people here allowed themselves to burn something.

Then I heard the gushing water. Oh! I run out of words as I was awed by the volume of the gushing water crashing to the rock below. I remembered Niagara Falls on TV. It was like that but not as wide. The first of the seven falls was so symmetrical. It appeared like the hair of a woman.

Four hundred meters away was the highest and most beautiful falls named “Hikong Bente” which means immeasurable. The answer to my question a while ago was answered. It was not a smoke after all but the mist created by the water as it punched through the rocks.

I felt like a character in the fairy tale as I was surrounded by the rainbow for just a couple of second when the sun reached out its rays and touched the mist. Then a cloud shut the rays. So short a time yet the world seemed to stop as the scene mesmerized me.

As we passed the trail towards the third falls, we heard the musical harmony of the sounds created by the birds accompanied by the noise of insects which formed its background. It had been a kilometric trek already yet we have not seen the third falls.

I gasped for air, rested for a while, and after a hundred meter hike, I heard the sound of the water. I never thought that Hikong B’lebel (coil/zigzag) and Hikong Lowig (booth) are interconnected. The two falls connected their arms to welcome us yet we cannot even touch a drop of water from it since there was no trail leading to them. We just satisfied our eyes from afar.

My legs grew limp from exhaustion. We decided not to push through discovering the five remaining falls, since the trek was so remote already and not a single human being was in sight.

What we had seen was already a treasure worth beholding. I thought Lake Sebu was the only attraction but here was another equally awesome gift of nature hidden in the lush forest.

As we headed home, I gazed at the heavens and realized what priceless gifts I have been given. The gift of nature, the gift of meeting people who uphold their culture, and the million worth gift of experience I may never experience again.

In the wisdom of silence, I uttered a prayer thanking God for giving me the chance to embrace His creation. It was my plea that no human hands can strike a single act of destruction on these gifts, so that my experience would not be a mere memory but still a reality of God’s manifestation of His love, a reality for the others to experience and treasure.