Bukid life, oh my bukid life
Ev'ry memory, kay ganda
Bukid days, oh my bukid days
Are exciting, kay saya
(Sing to the tune of High School Life by Sharon Cuneta)
I'm not really a fan of Ms. Sharon Cuneta, nor of Ms. KC Concepcion for that matter. But this first verse sounded just right even with the words altered.
Because life in the mountains, nowadays, isn't all foraging and hunting anymore. I was born here in Bukidnon, in a small community hospital-- which, by the way, was advanced for its time then-- and have lived here all my life. With intermittent boards in Manila and Los Baños. For as long as I can remember, I've always wanted to come home. From school or after a prolonged leave of absence to be with family in Luzon.
When I was a student, I believed my homesickness stemmed from wanting to live the life my father had-- as a farmer. After he died (just before my university graduation) and I began to work as a full-time agriculturist, I realized I was wrong, though I did not know what I wanted. It was only later, when I met my future husband, that the true reason showed itself.
We were invited to join a public transport group and, shortly after, were given the opportunity to provide transportation for a large doctor's convention in Cagayan de Oro. That was when we realized we could do more for the world by becoming a travel agency.
Today, though we regularly travel around Mindanao and schedule trips to the other provinces in the Philippines, we always come home to Bukidnon. There is something about living on a mountain-- the quiet, the privace, the community-- that can't be found anywhere else, no matter where we go.
