Sampalok Lake

We always arise at 5 a.m. at our house at San Pablo, Laguna. This is not because we are particularly energetic.

We live in the shadow of the huge Cathedral, built in the 1600s, and at 5 a.m. they ring the bell for early Mass. Actually, they beat the tar out of it.

The Cathedral is named for Saint Paul the First Hermit, a third-century Egyptian Christian who fled persecution and lived in a cave in the desert, where a raven brought him food every day.

There’s an old tunnel underneath our house that leads to the Cathedral. It was built when the Spanish ruled. In times of peril, people headed for the Cathedral.

During the brutal Japanese Occupation in WWII, the Japanese commander at San Pablo planned a massacre and ordered all the men in the area to assemble in the church.

Their priest told them, “Every man bring his machete.”

They did so and the Japanese had a change of heart.

When the morning bell rings, we have strong coffee, sweet fruit, fresh rolls and commence our morning walk.

We walk around Lake Sampalok, a bright blue lake in the crater of an extinct volcano. The hike around the lake is more than two miles. Springs from surrounding mountains feed the lake.

A boy wrapped in a blanket sleeps on a concrete curb next to his curled up dog.

There are huge mansions in the foothills above the lake and ramshackle squatter s

hacks all along the shore. It reminds me of Honolulu where I recently lived, where people in towers of multimillion dollar condos overlooked throngs of homeless people in the streets and parks.

The government says it will soon demolish the shacks. Despite that some have “For Sale” signs posted. There’s always a chance the government won’t follow through.

When we walk, life is stirring and people are cooking over charcoal stoves, setting out their wares in roadside stands, washing clothes in the streams trickling down from the mountains.

Fishermen count wriggling fish as they toss them into woven baskets. Others mend fishing nets.

Skiffs paddle out to huge wooden framed fish nets and floating huts where the fishermen feed their fish before harvesting them.

Motorized tricycles, which operate like taxis, zip by spewing noise, loud music and exhaust.

The crowing of fighting roosters tied to stakes never ceases. Cats, dogs, hens and chicks are everywhere.

A large plaque by the side of the road says a vision of Our Lady appeared over the lake in 1949.

Any place you look there are images of Jesus and the Virgin Mary.

And Christmas decorations. Even the shanties have blinking red and green lights, tiny Christmas trees or a smiling face of Santa Claus.

I’ve never seen a country that loves Christmas so much.

“We start celebrating in the Ber months,” a friend told me as we drank coffee in his cafe.

“The Ber months?” I said.

“You know,” he replied, “September, October, November.”

So one can explore a Filipino supermarket in early November listening to “I Saw Mommy Kissing Santa Claus.”

There are hotels and cafes around the lake as well. One of them, the very fine Ang Tahanan ni Aling Meding hotel, is known for its ghosts.

Legend says there were once two huge mango trees at the site. Mango trees are self-pollinating, with male and female flowers. Back in the day, lovers would meet furtively beneath the trees. More than once, when love went wrong, the unhappy couples hanged themselves from the branches.

The mango trees were removed to make room for the hotel, and now some people say the ghosts of star-crossed lovers haunt the place.

It doesn’t seem to hurt the hotel’s business any.

A very small girl hauling water from a spring passes, and smiles at us cheerfully.

Despite their hardships, Filipinos are a most ebullient people. From the sparse, little shanties you hear laughter and songs as people prepare to face the day.

From one extremely small shack a pretty, young girl in a Catholic school blue skirt and white blouse emerges. She nods, gives me shy smile and calls me “Kuya,” a term of respect that means “older brother.”

I smile back and wish her a good morning, secretly hoping that she becomes a teacher, nurse, lawyer, doctor, something very fine.

This country is fascinating.

JW