Bataan’s Pilgrimage, Year Six

I never wanted to walk seven kilometers going up the summit of a hallowed mountain but I had no choice because the one man I thought would ride me up to the top of Mt. Samat did not come, all of “them” never came, which really disappointed me and my expectations for a former O.I.C.

We started the seven kilometer march at around 1:15 in the afternoon; no clouds were present in the vast blue sky so it was really hot. We were fighting with thirst, burning sunlight, sticky feeling because of sweat, restlessness, exhaustion and weakened body just to reach the mountain’s peak where God was waiting for all of us.

I was with Fergie, Ervin, Madame and her cute little angel Chacha, they were all part of a collegiate school paper, while I am a mere pilgrim who loves God, our peninsula, my bishop and taking pictures. (haha)

When we arrived at the open field packed with people from different walks of life; rich, middle class, poor, high ranking government officials, nuns, priests, seminarians, brothers, religious youths and youth leaders, cops, militaries, nurses, senior citizens, parishioners and other people, I realized all of us have the same expectation, to be one with God at a holy mountain for the sixth time during the eve of Advent and quench our weary and sinful body with the word of the Lord and the breeze of fresh cool air from heaven.

A lot of priests were not there, as in physically absent, I don’t know about those who were physically present but mentally absent. Bataan priests are different, they have minds of their own and they are very courageous and brave. They are absurd, in a cool and nice way though.

After the Mass, of course there was the traditional fireworks display for about ten minuets and then the party. Yesterday’s awesome song was that about the YAsia Fiesta.

Then the dreading walk down started. Again, we never wanted to walk another seven kilometers but we do not have any choice. I am very tired, my body is surrendering and my feet and legs are almost numb. It was not only us that felt that way, there’s still the other about ten thousand people. The good thing was that a Police patrol stopped by us as Madame waived her weak arm and let us ride with them until we reach the foot. Chacha was very tired, she was an eight year old girl who was then walking up and down, ten kilometers of a steep mountain. For the first time I was glad we have police officers and patrol cars.

During our ride down, a lot of young guys and gals were shouting at the police driver of our police patrol to stop the car because their gal friend fainted. She was not moving, maybe this was because of hunger and exhaustion and it was a very scary scenario. When she was carried inside the front part of the patrol, it was only then that I saw another guy who also fainted. Now we have two unconscious youths in a vehicle with us.

The annual Mt. Samat Pilgrimage of the Diocese of Balanga is always amazing; I could still vividly remember the fourth trek which was sandwiched between the days of Typhoon Milenyo. All we needed to do was to pray and pray that the weather be fine that day, and it happened: clear blue sky all throughout the day. Yesterday, the one thing that amazed me was the eagle soaring high up the clear blue sky right above the crowded Dambana ng Kagitingan, like he was guarding the sky to be free from rain.

.Next year is going to be different, nobody knows if next year will still happen, yet everybody wants it to happen.