Mid pleasures and palaces
though we may roam,
Be it ever so humble,
there’s no place like home.
-John Howard Payne
There are many places that I call home - places where I have settled and have the longing to return. I also believe that there are unseen threads always connecting me and leading my footsteps back to these homes, be it in thought or in actual homecomings (related post here).
And of the many homes, one is closest to my heart - the sugar cane hacienda where I spent my early childhood. It is located in the agricultural municipality of La Castellana, Negros Occidental. Sugar fuels the local economy in this area.
The entrance to the hacienda by the national highway is marked by a simple concrete shed. This shed has evolved from the more comfortable nipa huts which don't usually last long. They were always burned by drunkards or by suspected insurgents.
Approximately a kilometer away from this shed, there are concrete and wooden houses along the roadside. Passing through the houses, I would always be greeted by people who know me by name. Some of them I know, most I don't anymore recognize. These greetings for me are a sign of another happy stay, even just for a day or two.
Over the years, the hacienda has also coped with the advancement of technology. Gone are the oil lamp days. Almost every house use electricity for light. Gone are the warm cola drinks. Almost all stores have refrigerators, with cold drinks and ice for sale. Gone are the radio dramas - almost every house has television. But some things remained unchanged. People are already asleep by as early as 8 o'clock in the evening. The water sources are still the same, hoses extending to some houses and other common locations, obtained from underground springs discovered by the first inhabitants of the hacienda (that includes my grandparents). Water still flows unceasingly day and night.
A river actually crosses the hacienda. It also has remained unchanged - the waterpaths are not permanent, changing directions after every storm.
It has also remained kind to people. Despite the strong currents that carried trees, bamboos, rocks and sometimes carabaos during the rainy seasons, the river has not taken a single human life.
When I was young, one of the many worthwhile activities we indulged in was catching dragonflies and butterflies. They are still abundant in the area and the cycle is still the same - the little children there still like to chase and catch them. I actually went with my nephew and niece one time and it took a lot of coaxing to convince them not to "attack" these insects after I have taken some pictures.
Aside from sugar cane, people also take time to plant other crops in preparation for the sugar cane off-season. Bananas, squash and taro are just a few of these crops.
During hot humid days, a can of cola might be refreshing but in the hacienda, none is more refreshing than coconut juice and flesh with sugar, milk and ice.
Only rice could equal sugar cane in importance. Many parcels of land are still dedicated to rice farming.
When rice is about to be harvested, I used to cross the fields and stand in the middle. I would whistle to the top of my lungs (it is believed that whistling invites the wind to come). When the wind crosses the rice fields it brings with it the aroma of ripe rice. I could not summon the words to describe the scent. I used to hear my father say that the aroma of ripe rice brings to the farmer the scent of fulfillment.
And the early birds get rice...
Spider hunting was a childhoold activity I regret not having enjoyed. We were not allowed to roam after dark. It was my father who hunted spiders for me and my brother. And the rice fields were a steady source (the spider pictured below is a common inhabitant of the fields but deemed unfit for the spider fights).
With all the sights and sounds of my early childhood that I always try to relive, one comes with less effort - the moods of Mount Canlaon.
The Joyful and Refreshed - Early Morning
The Warm and Loving - Mid Afternoon
The Lonely and Blue - Late Afternoon
The Dark and Intense - Dusk
And who says colorful sunsets are always seen in the sea? The twilight in the hacienda has its own sights, sounds and scents (related post here). The sunset is one of those magical elements of twilight.
During sunset, some clouds seemed to be set on fire - casted in orange.
And when night is about to fall, the moon slowly appears along the delineation of colors in the sky...
Indeed, there is no place like home...
