Finding Succor in Socorro

This article was published in a local Cebu daily more than a year ago.  I felt the need to re-publish it in this blog.  I am proud, not necessarily of the article, but of the amazing experience I had in this enchanting island named Socorro.  Here it is:

An excited lawyer 

Days before the recent national elections, I read, with earnest curiosity, an article written by Atty. Alfredo Sipalay, captioned “Soccoro on My Mind” which was published in the Cebu Daily News. It was an amusing narrative about his personal encounters with the charming peculiarities of Socorro and its people, when he was engaged as counsel for a local politician in the elections held three years ago. The island municipality of Socorro is part of Surigao del Norte, which is a little more than two hours of boat ride from Surigao City.

The article drew my attention as I was about to be placed in the same situation.  Mayor Mamerto Galanida, the incumbent mayor of Soccoro, had just signed me up to represent him as his counsel for the May 11, 2004 elections in his bid for reelection.  My good friend Atty. Jingo Quijano and his lovely wife, Charina, daughter of Surigao Vice-Governor Navarro, referred my name to the good mayor. 

After reading Atty. Sipalay’s article, I had a good picture of what my experience would be in the island. His description, of the unspoiled beauty of the islands, the rustic, and simple life of its people, and the fact that he’d seen and counted only three four-wheeled vehicles running the streets; it definitely promised a relaxed and peaceful milieu while the rest of the country would be up in strife, engaging in crazy skirmishes on the circus arena we call election. After all, I was told, there are only fourteen barangays in Soccorro, with a voting population of a little over eleven thousand. It would surely be a welcome respite from the hustle and bustle of city existence. From the confusion and strain of work, I am determined to find my much-needed succor in Socorro. I won’t mind engaging in a few heated arguments during the canvassing of election returns. Surely, I assured myself, the two or three days of serene and quiet retreat in a beautiful island, not to mention the seafoods that I would shamelessly devour to my already cholesterol-filled heart’s content, would be the ultimate compensation.

When the mayor called me over the phone and asked if I had ‘adequate’ experience as a lawyer, I instinctively feigned a controlled and confident voice, and in my most lawyerly manner, proudly yet unaffectedly claimed, that I have had a distinguished law practice for, well, a respectable four years. Then I sensed a moment of uncomfortable silence there, but it was certainly not of apprehension, well at least I hoped. Of course, one could never discount the Vice-Governor’s influence.

Off to Socorro

So off I went to the island of Socorro. It was a hot Sunday noon when I arrived in Surigao City via a ferry boat from Leyte. A day before, I played the role of best man at a friend’s wedding in my hometown in Baybay, Leyte. When I got to Surigao, I was still nursing a throbbing headache courtesy of a hangover, after an otherwise thoughtless post-wedding-drinking-binge the night before.

The (pump) boat ride from Surigao City to Socorro was nothing but a breathtaking experience. True, indeed, we passed by a host of virginal islands; they are remarkably unscathed and unsullied by the reckless hands of so-called civilization. I looked everywhere, but not a soul was in sight, yet the islands are richly bristled with green and dense mangroves, and shrubs that formed thickets along the seafronts. The sea was as tranquil as the uninhabited islands; such tranquility is discernible amid the din of the boat’s engine. My impish brain playfully took in flashes of imagined scenes reminiscent of Tom Hank’s “Castaway” but it was the “Blue Lagoon” ones that lingered in a more detailed yet delectable concoction.

Then I caught sight of the mountain island of Socorro.  It was a sight to behold.  Enchanting. Or perhaps, enchanted. The gods of nature seemed to have mightily embraced it with their strong jealous arms; over-protective, and ever tenacious in keeping its secrets from being revealed, or treasures, from being stolen or destroyed by foolish mortals.  One could only stare in awe at the verdant green vegetation draping the entire island.  The rock-strewn island, whose mountainsides extended directly into the depths of the sea, only spared a few habitable fractions of its land to the mortals. Thus, the town proper is situated, I was told, on the other side of the island so that we had to go around and travel for a good forty minutes more.

Finally, we arrived. My escort who accompanied me from Surigao City pointed out the man in a barong tagalog suit as Mayor “Mamer”, who stood by the pier ready to welcome his lawyer from Cebu. I was ready for the wonderfully uneventful times ahead. Indeed, the place was almost exactly what I pictured to be. I lost no time in absorbing the fresh panorama that was before me. Small fishing boats lined the coastline, the unpolluted feel of its sea breeze breathing through the poster-like village; one could also hear the distant and playful noise of children somewhere. Ahh…the sights and sounds of Socorro. So rustic, picturesque, peaceful… but wait a second, I stopped myself. What’s the mayor doing with four fully armed military escorts?

Surprise!

The men seemed to be in full battle gear; one could not mistake the M-16 assault rifles as well as the straps of heavy ammunition they were carrying.  Crazy thoughts raced through my mind.   Nah, I assured myself. Though the name of the place rhymes with Jolo, but it definitely is not.  Yet that eerie music theme from the Twilight Zone began playing in my ears.  

The mayor gracefully shook my hands, and asked me how the trip was.  I told him truthfully that I enjoyed the sights.  With suppressed trepidation, I immediately inquired if the place is COMELEC controlled.  Hotspot?  I asked.  Yes, he replied casually.  Ah, really, I told him.  S_ _t, I told myself. 

We rode a multicab (one of the three four-wheeled vehicles), and I was brought to the mayor’s ancestral home. There his family was waiting, together with several supporters, who gathered around their living room watching intently the Pacquiao-Marquez fight at the TV screen. One chair was immediately vacated for the ‘just-arrived’ lawyer from Cebu. I was glad to be there in time for six more rounds of the fight; I was at least forgetting momentarily the unpleasant verity I had just learned.

The mayor had arranged a briefing with all the watchers and supporters. I was welcomed to a gathering of more than a hundred, who waited for our arrival with sober anticipation. Earlier, I was informed that some armed men (not military) have already arrived and reportedly threatened and terrorized residents in at least two barangays. Every moment was filled with tension and anxiety at the ‘forthcoming’ violence, though at times, it was laced with nervous laughter. I overheard one supporter, or should I say doomsayer, who could not contain his uncanny excitement, by uttering in no uncertain terms, “Mag-patay gyud ni ugma”.

It was then that I realized that this was not going to be a retreat after all. That I found it strangely comical was a surprise. On election day, I was not ‘invited’ to go out. ‘Verified reports’ just came in that there was a planned attack on the mayor and his candidates. No mention was made about their lawyer though. Several men were actually apprehended after being caught carrying firearms and other deadly weapons. Escorted by an armed policeman, I went to the police station situated at about fifty meters away from where I stayed, in order to monitor how the police and the COMELEC handled the case. The mayor was understandably apprehensive the suspects might be released on technical grounds, on election day.

Elections

My ‘shining moment’ came during the canvassing. Equipped with cellphones, the Mayor’s henchmen already forecasted his win by a mere three hundred votes or so. The canvassing was done in an air-conditioned training center across the municipal hall. Its limited space was however made available only to the candidates and their appointed watchers. A sound system was set up where large speakers were placed outside so the public could hear the proceedings. I was up against a character, who seemed set out to ‘object to the best of his ability’. It was, I would say, a very lengthy and animated proceeding, what with all the interjections, and needless protestations. Several hundred people already gathered outside listening to what we said. At one point, despite the absence of any discrepancy in the number of votes, there was an impassioned plea for the exclusion of an election return, because his own copy of the election return did not clearly bear the thumbmarks of the Board of Election Inspectors. I countered with an erudite citation of the legal provisions of the election code. But he remained pig-headed in his argument. Out of exasperation I reminded him that we were there in order to canvass votes, not thumbmarks.

We were again distressed with reports that the canvassing center will be attacked.  I thought the threats must have been real because at least ten more men from the Army arrived as reinforcements.  I could not go out and walk the streets without an escort.  The canvassing was eventually concluded on Wednesday morning.  We heaved a sigh of relief when the winners were proclaimed.

What a day that was. Well, at least I was served with lobsters for breakfast, “banagan” they call it. It was a real gastronomical delight. I savored quite a few. I asked how much a kilo. P1,200.00 a kilo, I was told. Ah… okay, I said. I then set my sight on the other dishes.

I found the people I was introduced to as intelligent, industrious, friendly and very hospitable.  I made quite a few good friends.  One of them had been egging me from day one to tour Sohoton Cove, a natural wonder, he claimed.   He was a very persuasive and insistent fellow that declining his offer would be more of an insult than an act of propriety.  Indeed, it was an offer I was glad I never refused. 

Sohoton Cove: Paradise Lost

Sohoton Cove lies some forty-five minutes from the town proper on the other side of Socorro island. The very able guide named Mero and two armed police officers accompanied me to the site. The entrance to this wonderland was a beautiful cave, which leads you to an egress and into what seems to be another world. The waters just outside the cave was so crystal clear one can readily enjoy watching the multihued corals and the wonderful creatures swimming beneath. We entered the cave paddling a small banca. The cave itself is amazing, with dripping waters from the still-forming stalactytes, and when you chance your flash light upward to its cathedral-like ceilings, you realize it’s dwelt by hundreds of bats. Out of the darkness, we paddled toward a distant shaft of light and eventually emerge into a world like no other. The place is a pure marvel. Uninhabited, but full of life. The waters were teeming with attractive jellyfish, the type which do not cause those painful itchiness, and which I could easily grasp with my bare hands. Identical looking islets greeted us at this side. Islands within an island. Unbelievable. What was more incredible is when I learned that the cave that we passed through was the only entrance to this place.

We rowed on and went by indistinguishable islets that were laden with diverse plant life. One who ventures going to this paradise alone would definitely have a hard time finding his way back. It seemed that everytime we pass by a small island, I always turned my head back to look thinking we just went through exactly the same place before. Somebody pointed to a reddish wooden plant that seemed to extend its arms toward the sea. Its called “iron wood”, the second-hardest hardwood in the planet, and endemic to these islands. Shrills from a bird immediately directed our focus on a hornbill that just took off from a tree branch. The wonder and beauty of Sohoton is beyond description, and to give an in depth narrative of the place should merit another full-length article.

Finally: Succor in Socorro

There, at last, I found succor in Socorro. There I felt I was in total communion with nature. The experience was healing and mystical. The stressful events of the past few days suddenly become so insignificant. The bedlam of everyday survival in what we consider as dog-eat-dog world is easily forgotten here. One is compelled to meditate and go philosophic about life’s interminable enigma. Somehow, I left the place with an uplifting awareness that the seemingly important things that we strive for to have in life are perhaps not exactly what we look for. This place, like so many things that we take for granted, is unreservedly available but whose value, I realize, is beyond measure.