In the dark caverns of Ambongdolan

TRAILS UP NORTH
Glo Abaeo Tuazon

TUBLAY, Benguet -- For much of the years after World War 2, Tublay remained a silent municipality of Benguet. Situated near the Halsema highway originally known as the Mountain Trail, Tublay was much a part of the resistance force against the Japanese Imperial Army during the war years.

The locals were recruited along with people from the other Benguet municipalities and though crudely armed and learned won the war. One reason why the locals usually last for a long time and though seemingly fighting a futile war and in the end persist is because they know their place more than the enemy. They know how to go about scouring all the terrains, and could memorize the nooks like the back of their hands. And the caves were much part of the war history in Tublay.

Going steeply down to Barangay Ambongdolan and hiking more way down led to the hollows under the mountains created by nature and time. For eons before anyone ever domesticated the area, the trickles of water passing thru a little crack and seeping underground created a massive hollow as big as a humble cathedral. I say cathedral for the reason that the crystal and mineral build-ups almost resemble the magnificent artisan works of a typical cathedral.

Paterno Cave deceived me. The entrance was nothing more than a tiny hole to accommodate a single body. Sliding in like a snake on its belly the enclosed canal belched me out inside a landing with a barely larger enclosure, tiny spires of stalagmites protruding from the damp floor and stalactites holding on to dear life hanging from the ceiling.

And then the adventure started. Like miners we slid our way down a narrow vertical shaft by the use of a rope and then a metal ladder, the only man-made introduction the local government put up to minimize accidents because the way was too tricky to huddle with just the ropes. Little by little and getting thru numerous caverns the hollow opened up to a larger-than-a-house compartment.

From here the air was clear as it opens down below to a huge maw of a mouth. A few paces from here, the path continues to another big hole, still a part of Paterno Cave. It was fascinating to go about the cave in a perfect upright position, the size of it able to engulf a few battalions of soldiers at a time. Now it occurred to me how the army during the war was able to comfortably hide themselves from view to rest and plan and assemble.

This cave was in fact named so for Gen. Paterno who led his army here for a time. Halfway inside is a large compartment where at least 2 masses were held, an altar put up near tiny stalagmites that grew to resemble a Madonna and Child protrusion. On the other side was “Jesus” with His back turned facing the wall. Coincidentally along the way where we came was a cluster of mineral growths they named “Jerusalem”, all because it seemed like a portrayal of the holy family complete with the other characters in the bible passage.

Bengaongao Cave on the other hand lies a little away from Paterno Cave. Down to where the river screams its force, the cave opens up to a huge cold embrace. During summers and dry seasons, the entrance spits out a trickle of water and the floor is a mantle of cold smooth stones typical of those littering river floors. Along the cave walls are evident marks of water levels etched by time and water passage as it came and went.

When the rain comes, the water level rises and it would be an impossible feat to enter the cave. Going deeper was like solving a mystery. You get into a passage and discover clues as you go thru. Everything inside was an enchantment and an enlightenment. Nature does have a way of teaching people in a different sort of way if only we learn as we appreciate.

The forms of a sleeping parrot, of croc heads, of budding flowers, of elephant ears, and in an almost comic way the overwhelming number of male and female genetalias hanging and protruding from the floors, walls and ceilings. Giant mushrooms, broccolis, tiny terrace-like landscapes, and then the “heart” of Bengaongao Cave.

Smack in the middle of the cavern under the earth is the heart-shaped mineral build-up suspended between stalagmites and stalactites, dripping in pure, icy water. Give yourself a few shots of imagination and it almost palpitates like a live heart pumping the life force of Tublay. Egg-like formations dot the place, in a sunny-side up sort of way. Up above the mighty enclosure are chandeliers of crystal. So much beauty buried like treasures in the bowels of Benguet.

Sad to say, people never really learn. In my stead, the fascination prods me to an urge – the urge to preserve and protect. So much vandalism had escaped the ever protective eyes of the guides and townspeople. There were writings on the walls and some of the most pristine crystal build-ups were deliberately chipped out and apparently sold for a purpose. Nobody should be allowed to destroy what nature built in ages.

Environmental protection has always been one of the primary concerns of the tourism committee of Tublay as does other places. They have been trying to device ways to promote appreciation as well as developmental growth that would go hand in hand with preservation and protection. For now they have minimized the number of people going inside the caves.

Guides have to accompany them for safety and to oversee the activity of the spelunkers. Unless people learn, there is no development, no growth. And until we learn someday the environment that gives also takes its toll.

For more details of Tublay, people could get in touch with the municipal officials and the barangay officials of Ambongdolan. Or email this author. Any idea, comments or knowledge of these environmental crimes are welcome for further study and proper action.

My thanks to councilors Erickson “Tagel” Felipe and “Shangtaw” who patiently guided us through slips and turns during the tour. And to those others whose stories (coming up in another issue) gave me a better perspective of the people and places in Tublay. -- Email: twilight_glo@yahoo.com