The enchanting Villa Igang: A sanctuary in Guimaras

FOR someone like me who believes he is a mermaid trapped in a fat guy’s body, Villa Igang in Guimaras island is nothing short of paradise. I felt so lucky to get a chance to visit this hidden sanctuary during the last weekend of June. Villa Igang is an enchanting spot in Sitio Alubihod, Barangay Poblacion in the municipality of Nueva Valencia, on the western part of the Guimaras mainland. It is a beach resort, part of the training center and marine sanctuary of John B. Lacson Foundation Maritime University, a 62-year old educational institution which has its main campus in the Molo district of Iloilo City. I was in Iloilo to attend the regional meeting of the Asia Pacific Network for International Education and Values Education (APNIEVE)–Philippines, an organization of educators who are advocates of peace and environmental protection. As a new institutional member of APNIEVE, John B. Lacson University hosted the meeting. When Dr. Lulu Arañador, the university’s academic affairs director and APNIEVE representative for Region 6, heard that I was going to Guimaras after the meeting, she convinced me to visit Villa Igang and immediately arranged my stay. And so to Villa Igang I went. To reach the place, I boarded a passenger boat from the Ortiza Wharf in Iloilo City, paying a fare of only PhP14 to cross the Iloilo Strait. The trip took about 15 to 20 minutes and soon I was at the Jordan Wharf, where I registered with the friendly staff of the tourism satellite office. From there I rented a tricycle for PhP250 that would bring me directly to Villa Igang. I asked Eric, the trike driver, to bring me first to the market where I could buy the famous Guimaras mangoes. Instead, he took me to a trade center made of bamboo structures, remnants of the annual Manggahan Festival in the province in April, at the capitol grounds. I bought two kilos of ripe mangoes from a tindera who was kind enough to choose the fruits that were ready to eat.

The pleasant ride to Villa Igang took around 30 to 40 minutes along roads that were generally in good condition. I passed by countless mango orchards, the greenness of the surroundings soothing my tired soul that had been battered by city life. View of the sea My room in the villa has a beautiful view of the sea. A pocket cove lined by white sand is just a few steps from my small terrace. A big talisay tree provided generous shade to a bench, a table, and chairs made of driftwood and discarded wreckage from a batel, a traditional boat manufactured in Guimaras in the last century. A talisay tree is often believed to be enchanted, the home of the tamawo (West Visayan version of a diwata) and kapre. Frangipani and pandan and other green shrubs thrived on the limestone cliffs surrounding the resort. I contemplated the serenity of Villa Igang from my terrace while eating two mangoes with my bare hands, the sweet juice pouring down my tummy and legs. I was glad no one was around to witness my primal performance. That afternoon it rained in Villa Igang. I went up to a small hut atop a huge limestone outcrop facing the sea, enjoying the soft sight and sound of the rain. The gentle wind brought with it the briny and muddy scent of sea grasses exposed by the low tide. The scent was soothing to my senses, for I am really at home by the sea. After being exiled for a year in Metro Manila, where my only chance to see the sea is when I have brunch with my dearest doctor-poet friend Alice at Café Breton in the Mall of Asia, my heart is filled with joy just staring at the sea. On the other shore is a long and desolate stretch of white sand that looks so sad under the rain. Alone on a rainy evening At dusk the drizzle stopped. From afar I heard the soft pealing of a bell. Maybe it is the call for the faithful to pray the Angelus. Then the crickets started to sing. In my mind I recited one of my favorite Carlos Angeles poems entitled “Landscape II."

Sun the knifed horizon bleeds the sky Spilling a peacock stain upon the sands, Across some murdered rocks refused to die. It is your absence touches my sand hands… … Now, while the dark basins the void of space, Some sudden crickets, ambushing me near, Discover vowels of your whispered face And subtly cry. I touch your absence here Remembering the speeches of your hair.

That afternoon the “bleeding" of the sky was tempered by dark clouds and so there was really no “peacock stain upon the sands." But the skies’ “dark basins" were there and the “crickets ambushed" me with their cold songs. During times like this, I would always remember the “speeches of someone’s hair." I decided it was time for me to take my supper. I told the cook after my afternoon siesta to prepare fish sinigang for me. On my way to the dining hall, it started to drizzle again. This time it came with lightning and thunder. I was bracing myself for a rainy evening alone. Yes, alone, and I caught myself smiling sadly. Mangrove walk I woke up very early that Saturday. There was already a gentle glow of the morning light when I looked outside. I hastily washed my face, brushed my teeth, and put my camera, notebook, pen, wallet, mobile phone, and room key inside my white tote bag. I went outside, ready to explore the fifty or so hectares of the resort and training center. Walking silently along a secluded road, I stumbled upon a bamboo bridge with the sign “Mangrove Sanctuary." While enjoying the gentle blessing of sunrise, I made my way across the mangrove forest maintained by John B. Lacson University in cooperation with the Department of Environment and Natural Resources, the Bureau of Fisheries and Aquatic Resources, and the Municipality of Nueva Valencia. The embrace of the mangrove forest is very relaxing. Some of the trees had labels showing their scientific and local names. Posters along the path extolled the importance of mangroves in protecting the sea from siltation caused by soil erosion, and the shores from tidal surges during typhoons. Mangroves are also vital spawning grounds for fish and other sea creatures. Back on the country road, I stumbled upon another sign saying “Experimental Pond" that led me to a small trail between limestone cliffs and caves on my left, and a nipa marsh on my right. I peeked inside the caves and was pleasantly surprised to see stalactites and stalagmites. I passed by a small white concrete bridge, and came to a big pond in the morning calm. No one was there except for birds that were chirping happily as they flew from one tree to the next. From where I stood I could see the sea. Beyond the pond I was surprised to see a secluded sea cove (white sand of course!) washed in the early sunlight waiting for me. It looked like a long-lost friend welcoming me with open arms! The water, to use the cliché, was crystal clear. I could see the sand, the sea shells, and the corals. Alone, I went swimming in the sea cove at 6:30 in the morning. Well, not really alone. About fifty meters away from where I was enjoying the sacred embrace of the sea was a lone fisherman on his small boat setting out his net for the day’s catch. How I wished the sea was green so I could use another cliché like “emerald-green waters." Ah, but the sea that morning in that part of Guimaras island was light blue, and so were the mountains of Panay from afar, and the skies. It is that kind of blue that will not make one sad. Instead it brings tropical gladness to my heart as the ultimate lover of the sea. A mermaid’s dream The sun was already hurting my skin when I went back to my cottage. I dropped by the dining hall and asked the cook if I could have longganisa and scrambled eggs for breakfast. My wish was granted. While waiting for my late breakfast, I swam in the cove near the yellow cottage with lush bougainvilleas on the verandah. The fuchsia bracts of my favorite flowering plant bloomed spectacularly, and yellow and white butterflies hovered above it. What a magical sight! I had my breakfast al fresco in front of the water, near the sand where the small waves were breaking into a soft and magical poetry of the sea. I prayed that someday, in the very near future, I would come back to this enchanting place and stay at the yellow cottage guarded by the bougainvilleas. And perhaps with someone very special? A mermaid’s dream indeed. Before lunch, the tricycle fetched me for my return trip to Iloilo City. I asked Eric to drop by the Trappist Monastery so I could buy my favorite guava and mango jams. The monk assigned to the monastery’s store that day was not happy to see me. After I paid for my half a dozen bottles of jam, there was pain on his face when he thanked me. Perhaps he had a toothache? Or maybe he just wanted to be alone, which is why he became a monk in the first place? Ah, but I was so happy that morning, still high from Villa Igang’s blessings. I really have no time and energy to spare for a monk undergoing andropause. – YA, GMANews.TV