Sunday I walked down to Baguio Gold to deliver groceries that I’d bought and refrigerated dishes left-over from Saturday night’s big meal in Leah and Mike’s home.  I found that the A-V-C-A family had already eaten lunch, but the folks were grateful for what I’d brought.  I heard that 17-year-old Pat, who’s been working in a mine in Rino Hill in Baguio Gold had brought 500 pesos of his wages to his grandmother, so the family had dined on fish and rice.

Because the weather was so glorious, unlike other days in the monsoon season, I wanted to go walking (farther) in the valley rather than just return uphill to home.  Of course the kids wanted to accompany me, so we set-off without a destination in mind, just walking and talking. Jameson, Justin, Dennis, Nick, Charlotte, Rose and I ambled along.  I bought juice pouches for us in a sari-sari store on the trail and we sat for a few minutes.

When we got up, I thought that I’d like to see the rushing river that we could hear.  I imagined that it was be swollen with rain water.  So we walked down to a hanging footbridge to cross the river.  The river appeared the same as usual.

After crossing the bridge, Nick asked if I wanted to go down to the river. I said okay, so the boys scampered downhill through tangled brush to a vegetable field then skirted its right border as the girls and I followed more carefully.  Rose, riding on my back, had an easier journey than the rest of us! By the time the girls and I walked along the edge of the plowed and planted field, the farmhands were watching.  I suppose that they don’t often see a white man trailing Pinoy kids beside their field.

Past the field, we descended again through tall grasses, weeds, trees and trash to the river’s edge.  The boys and I waded into the river.  The girls kicked off their flip-flops but were hesitant about joining us in the cold, rushing water.  At first, I thought, “Yikes; it’s cold!”  But the water wasn’t very cold, and I became accustomed to it after a while.

We waded, and submerged, and swam against the current, and splashed each other, and threw rocks at boulders, and climbed over rocks to find pools of water downstream that were less turbulent.  In the quieter places the girls waded in, but they seemed to be leery of being swept away or they found the water too cold for their liking.

We had a relaxing time.  I enjoyed just lying in the river, enjoying the scenery, swimming against the stream, and when bored looking for another part of the river to explore.  Eventually I was bored and the skinny boys and girls were cold, so we trudged uphill toward their homes in Baguio Gold.

When we arrived at their shack, I told Nick and his sisters that they could come uphill later to go with me to Holy Mass at Turning Point if they’d like to.  Then I hiked up to Monterrazas Village for a shower and a snack.

The beginning of Mass was delayed about forty minutes as we waited for the pastor to arrive, but the kids didn’t mind.  Filipinos are apparently accustomed to waiting.  After Mass we rode a jeepney back to Monterrazas Village, and I bid farewell to the kids as they strolled down to Baguio Gold and I turned left to return home.  †