VOLCANIC

 

"There are three types of rocks," Chris explained. "Igneous, sedimentary, metamorphic."

We were on our way to Bulusan National Park in a rented van. He majored in Geology and so I asked him to please humour me with "Geology for Idiots" to pass the long hours of travel in rural Philippines.

"I miss Hong Kong," I wailed. My face crumpled, molten rivulets of tears streaming down my cheeks like lava from a hyperactive volcano. "I miss my friends."

I flunked physics and I barely passed chemistry, but I remembered that elementary geology was kinda fun. So honestly, I was annoyed that an easy review of the rock cycle made me cry.

"I miss Greg and Allen and Peter and Joseph and Eric and Caro and Lore and..." I sobbed uncontrollably.

I was so unbalanced. 

I was drifting in some sort of a purgatory whilst I battled mightily to reclaim my life back in Hong Kong. A life - career, love, friendships, community, daily routine - that I had nurtured for almost seven years. But just as nothing can be done to control the movement of tectonic plates, there was nothing I could do at that moment, either, to change my situation. 

Nothing except wait. 

And it was killing me from the inside.

It's infinitely easier to understand (and accept) human suffering in terms of poverty and sickness and death. But emotional instability brought about by physical displacement is a bit harder to digest, especially since Hong Kong is a transient city and Filipinos are a transient people. I was angry and confused. Why couldn't I cope as well as I want to?

The fact that I had to do my waiting in the isolation of my house in Antipolo - hours and hours of frustrating debate with nobody except the voice in my head, questioning everything I am, everything I've done and everything I believe in - obliterated every bit of my self-confidence. Nobody wins that sort of debate. Yet, it repeats every day.

My spirit was wracked with the wreckage of a thousand earthquakes.

Chris simply held my hand for the remainder of the trip. When we got to our destination, he gently led me out of the van and into the nature trail around Bulusan Lake.

Somehow, the rippling of the water, the chirruping of crickets and the rustling of branches and leaves brought a measure of calm.

It was all so beautiful.

I inhaled large gulps of air that smelled of rain and dirt and wet leaves. I forced myself to release my troubles and live in the moment. 

I owed Bulusan than much. 

I owed Chris that much.

If rocks can - and do - go through a cycle, so also can I.

Tomorrow is another day.

// Bulusan Volcano National Park //

Bulusan Volcano National Park is a 3,673 hectares rain forest surrounding Mt. Bulusan. 

It is a wildlife sanctuary and a nature reserve.