Trekking to see the Rafflesia in Barbaza, Antique

It promised to be sunny when we arrived at the Iloilo airport in March 2012. My team (from the Central Office) of two photographers Kuya Jun and Sir Joe, and Marjun our videographer were on official duty to document a certain Rafflesia species reportedly blooming in the Panay mountains. This "Queen of Parasites" blooms in full for only a few days and time was thus of essence. So the four of us squeezed into the main cab of the pickup truck that fetched us, while our information officers Artem and David sat it out at the (covered) rear, and off we sped to Barbaza town in Antique, about four hours away.

I love going to Iloilo because I love the food. I wasn't disappointed when we stopped over at a seaside eatery to have our fill of seafood, especially fresh talaba (oysters). We also stopped at a fruit stand along the way to buy some bananas and watermelons.

yummy watermelons!

fresh seafood - and kuya jun and marjun are both obviously full

Finally, after acquiring an additional pickup truck, driving through alternating rain and sun, and paying a courtesy call at one of the field offices, our truck pulled into the parking lot of the compound owned by the family of Barbaza Mayor Faith Francisco. (We were to be accommodated in their home for the two nights that we would be staying in Barbaza.) The mayor, along with her municipal environmental and natural resources officer (MENRO) Emerson Ogatis, welcomed us and oriented us on what lay ahead. 

Mayor Faith (in blue blouse and black shorts) and MENRO Emerson
welcoming and orienting us

That night, I packed my bag, complete with filled bladder (or hydration pack), and prayed really hard for good weather the next day. MENRO Emerson had warned of a five-hour trek, but assured us that the slope would be "gentle". 

Being the only female in the group had its advantages, as I had a small guest room to myself with a bathroom right outside it, and so I was quick to get up early the next morning for my final preparations. Unfortunately, some hitches caused a few delays but finally we were on the road to that barangay further inland where we would literally take off on foot. About a 15-minute hike away, we came across Camp Eupre, a small mountain resort where snacks were served to our party. 

By this time, we had been joined by personnel from our Culasi field office, media crew from the local GMA-7, mountaineer-biologists from Haribon,  Dr. Renee Galang of the Philippine Spotted Deer Foundation, and Mayor Francisco herself. Galang was the discoverer of another Rafflesia species in another portion of the Panay mountain range. (See his site here.)

Does this look like a "gentle slope"?

After partaking of the snacks and making use of the pit stop, we (minus the Mayor) continued on our way. At first, I was one of those going fast on the trail, keeping up with the mountaineers. But soon I realized I was somewhere between getting left behind by the younger men and leaving some of my teammates behind (older, hehehe), so I slowed down to join the latter.

After about three hours of trekking almost consistently uphill, with the morning sun shining brightly over our heads.... boy, was I huffing and puffing! Breathless, sweating... Not to mention that I'd drunk almost all the contents of the bladder in my bag, and I had just been sipping it. Some of the trails were narrow and the loose soil made several areas slippery, but my trusty Tribu sandals never let me down. Actually, I preferred the dryness and heat rather than rain which would make it even more slippery... Or worse, bring out those limatiks (leeches). Shudder!

About an hour later, some locals chanced upon us. One of them, a lady, offered to carry my bag and jacket so I would feel lighter. Apparently, they were from the barangay which had jurisdiction over the rafflesia site and were headed home, so they were used to the trails. 

Local folks assisting us. Manang has my backpack.

We walked again for another hour, stopping several times to catch our breath before reaching the top. The locals who were accompanying us were probably either inwardly laughing or being exasperated at how slow we were. We caught up with some of the other men from the other teams at one stop. They were joking about how even if they had the loveliest and sexiest wife waiting for them, newly bathed, at the end of the trail and they had to walk the trail each day just to get home, it would be useless as they would be bone-tired. Also, how they were going to sooooo suggest to the Mayor to have a zipline installed so everyone could have an easier time going back.

I gazed 360 degrees when we reached the top, or about 750 meters above sea level according to the Haribon guys.  We were surrounded by a view of mountain ridges of the Panay mountain range, and beyond, the sea, while the cool mountain breeze whipped my hair across my face. Kuya Jun said he didn't like looking at mountains that looked barren or logged, but I said I appreciated seeing the ridges and the jagged slopes that were bared to my eyes.

Kuya Jun gazing at the panoramic view of Panay mountain range

But we were not done! We were now to go down -- at last, downhill! For about another hour, we trudged past the cogon grass slashing at our clothes, down to a more forested area, our local companions assisting us along the way.  We let the excited voices of those who had arrived ahead lead us to the site.

There! We could spot a few reddish blooms of the Rafflesia speciosa on the sloping ground across the damp forest floor, with the teams milled about documenting the blooms and surrounding environment. Dr. Galang was busy observing a rotting bloom, and we listened and asked questions about this particular species and how it differed from the others.

Dr. Galang measuring a rotting Rafflesia flower (pic by Kuya Jun)

Mike of Haribon taking a pic of a Rafflesia in early blooming stage

He showed us other buds on the forest floor. They looked so inconspicuous, like plain forest litter, that you wouldn't probably notice them with your untrained eye and possibly just step on them. This was probably one of the reasons this flower is endangered. 

The Rafflesia bud is inconspicuous on the forest floor

The rafflesia is an awesome flower. We let the biologists point out the other flowers, in varying stages of bloom. Personally I didn't think the full-bloom flower stank, as commonly believed. Rather, it was the one past blooming stage, or getting into decomposition stage, that smelled like carrion (that's why it's also called "the corpse flower") because the large hollow center could easily store stagnant water as well as trap some animals to death. This is one of its ways to reproduce -- the stink would actually attract some animals that would spread its pollen to other areas.

Two Rafflesia speciosa - the red one in almost full bloom (within 24 hours),
the other a few days past its full bloom stage (pic by Kuya Jun)

We couldn't leave without having our pictures taken with the large flower, so we each gingerly made our way down the slope, clinging to some vines, to pose beside the nearest blooming one - the one with almost all of its large petals open.

that's me trying to get near the (almost) full bloom

I'm not going into the other features and characteristics of this flower. That's easily available on the net, anyway. (You can start by clicking on this link on Philippine rafflesia.)

Dr. Galang measuring the blooming Rafflesia speciosa
with a caliper (pic by Kuya Jun)

<groan> we still have to go up there
and that guy was just RUNNING!

We felt like our grueling trek was rewarded when we saw this flower. We realized, after all, that we were some of a few individuals on earth who had actually seen a live specimen of the world's largest flower. (The environmental conditions they live in are so far hard to replicate in artificial surroundings, thus they cannot be easily bred.) Sure, there are many from those living in hinterlands or forested areas who can say that they're familiar with it, but the problem is, they take it for granted and do not appreciate the fact that these are an endangered species. All they know is that the flower stinks and they keep away from it.

Pretty soon, we were urged to go back. I felt like I was not alone in inwardly groaning when I realized that this time, what was previously downhill would mean uphill, and vice-versa. Short though the now-uphill trek would be, our legs were aching and we felt that we couldn't take one more step, but bravely we trekked on. We had no choice anyway or we'd be stuck there, miles from civilization! At the top, we gladly - albeit wearily - plunked down on the ground, snacked on some kakanin and gladly gulped water that the locals had brought for us. 

time to rest and snack before heading back down

At this time, I kept on ribbing MENRO Emerson,  feigning indignation at his promise of "a gentle slope." In fairness, though, the steepest was probably about 60 degrees. He invited us to stay at the local barangay so we could see the Rafflesia fully open the next day. But we had to decline because we had to document Bugang River in Pandan and the mangroves of Kalibo the following day. After that we had to head to Boracay Island to view the flight of the fruit bats, too. So we said our goodbyes to him, Dr. Galang, and the rest of the teams who were going to be left behind.

(Note: Good thing we didn't stay. The next morning, it was raining so hard that we would have been stranded up there and all our schedule would have been a-kilter.)

If it was a difficult trek to the site, then it was equally difficult going back down. By this time our limbs and joints were literally stiff, and anyone who has gone mountain trekking knows that the trek downhill is really bad on the knees as you would have to constantly "brake" with your feet to prevent a continuous slide down. Still, we were able to finish the return trip in almost three hours. Ugh!

Sir Joe and Marjun leading the way back down

We feasted on ice-cold water when we reached one of the communities back down, and when we reached Camp Eupre, we gladly drank the buko juice that the owner offered us.

I could have cried later upon seeing the pickup truck where we had left it parked further down in the more populated barangay. I wanted to shout "hooray!", but all I could do was climb wearily into the cab as we headed back to the Mayor's house. There, we ate an early dinner, and I took a refreshing bath before heading off to a deep sleep.

I knew that the next day, we would feel the punishing after-effects on our bodies, but that night, I thanked God that I was able to pay homage to a queen, parasitic though it may be.

P.S. The next day, we headed to Pandan, Antique to take pics of Bugang River, one of the country's cleanest rivers. (Picture this: it was raining so hard, but the waters remained green instead of turning into muddy brown.) Then we headed to Kalibo to document one of the mangrove ecotourism sites there with century-old mangrove trees. The following day, we hopped onto a ferry in Caticlan going to Boracay to try to catch a glimpse of the flying foxes (fruit bats) - but with the windy weather, we were disappointed. Still, we were able to squeeze in some time for R & R at the beach... as you can see from this pic:

enjoying my taho on Boracay beach