It’s easy to get fascinated with bamboo. This tropical plant is the fastest growing and the tallest grass in the plant kingdom. Some bamboo varieties can grow as much as three feet in a single day. It is touted to be stronger than steel and more durable than oak or maple. Amazing facts!
Although I didn’t know these facts as a young boy growing in the Philippines, I’d been fascinated with bamboo, nevertheless. For I experienced first hand the benefits of this prolific plant.
We had a bamboo thicket at back of our house. Mother made me in charge of finding and harvesting the young shoots (labong) for food. Sometimes there were even extra harvest to share to the neighbors or sell at the market for some cash. We would gather the bamboo twigs for firewood and the bigger twigs were materials for making a fence to protect our backyard vegetable garden. The bamboo trunk provided flooring materials when our floor needed to be mended.
I remember, after the harsh devastating tropical storms, trees were uprooted and the roofs were blown away, but the wind-yielding bamboos were left standing strong. And I was in awe!
I learned early on that as fatherless young man, and the only boy in the family, I must be resilient and strong like the bamboo.
Just before graduating high school when I was fifteen years old, I felt a heavy responsibility of helping my family. Our house badly needed repair. The roof was leaking, many parts of the wall were rotting and crumbling. Father passed away some eight years ago at that time, and no one was there to repair the house. I was the man of the house and I’ve got to do something.
It was then that I decided to join the barrio men to go to the foothills of Sierra Madre mountains for their yearly gathering of wood and bamboo for constructing and repairing their houses. Mother was not comfortable with the idea but I was very insistent. She’s worried that my frail frame would not endure the trek to the foothills of the grand mountain. She then made sure I had enough food and water for the long trip, and she prayed for me.
We started our journey at 3 am. All ten of us rode at the backs of our own carabaos (water buffaloes). As we travel, we lined up like a caravan. In front of me was my cousin Amang who was engaged to be married in few months. There was a lot of time for sharing stories and conversation about life. Kuya Amang intended to build a nipa hut as part of the deal in his engagement. Along with him were his father, my uncle Polon and another son, my cousin Efren who would help him cut and gather trees and bamboo for his project. He said that between the three of them they could gather enough materials for his nipa but.
Trailing behind me was my uncle Polon who gave me some orientation regarding our trip to the bambooland. He said that for my intended project, I would need to concentrate on gathering “buho”, a variety of bamboo for making bamboo walling. This variety is thin and can be easily cut in half from bottom to top, flattened and woven into a wall.
He also warned me to be always careful and mindful of my surroundings as there are deadly snakes that resemble the color of their surrounding and therefore difficult to spot. “Before entering the thicket, you must make a lot of noise to shoo away the deadly snakes. Always look around, up and down before you work, always be careful.”
Now, I understood why mother was hesitant to let me go.
The bambooland at the foothills of Sierra Madre mountain was a site to behold. The air was cold and pleasant. The vegetation was thick and the leaves were darker and greener than the ones in the lowlands Few minutes into the forest, we were greeted by the soothing sound of a rocky stream that leads in a mini waterfalls. 
I saw and heard variety of birds. There were small monkeys hanging by their tails on tree branches. There were varieties of wild berries on vines and bushes. Uncle Polon showed me which ones were edible. There was plenty to nibble while gathering my “buho”.
The serenity in the bambooland was greatly disturbed by the barriomen intruders. The sound of our bolos cutting down small trees and bamboos scared the resident wildlife and they all went into hiding. As it became hot and humid during midday, we could not resist dipping into the deep ends of the brook to cool down. “This water is cold and clean, you can drink it.” says uncle Polon, pointing to the mini waterfalls upstream.
“We must be ready to go back to the lowlands before sunset.” announced Uncle Polon at around four o’clock pm. “By this time you must be preparing your sled and your cargoes.”
My cargo consisted of 100 pieces of “buho”, enough to cover a wall panel that needs to be replaced in our house. My uncle sounded very proud of me as he joked. “Puede ka na ring mag-asawa. Makakagawa ka na rin ng Bahay.” (You can now also get married. You can now build a house.)
The return trip was slower because of our heavy load. No more conversation because we were all spread apart and separated by our long bamboo cargoes. But the air was filled with singing. Each one belted out his favorite kundiman song to entertain himself and to fight sleepiness. It was past midnight when we reached home. Mother was awake and there was a spread of food on the table: grilled fish, white steamed rice, coffee rice, rice cake, stewed vegetable greens with labong (young bamboo shoot). I included on the spread the wild berries I collected from the bambooland to her delight. While eating, she inquired of my experience at the Sierra Madre foothills. Her eyes were gleaming with pride as she listened to my story.
myJOURNEY 