Las Navas mon amour

I took a little trip to my hometown,I only stopped just to look around.And as I walked along the thoroughfare,There was music playing everywhere!

Corny, maybe, but those lines from Paul Anka’s ’60s song My Hometown kept playing and replaying in the stereo of my mind as I walked along the streets of my hometown, Las Navas, Northern Samar, after a long absence.

In his song, Paul Anka said that the music came from within my heart and I was sure it also did in my case. You see, there’s something indescribably beautiful about going back to your birthplace after being away for years. Even if you think you know the place like the back of your hands, visiting it again is a journey of discovery that never fails to revive fond memories when life was less complicated, when the world seemed a better place to live in, when your main concern was waking up early in the morning in time to serve the daily Mass as a sakristan and making it to the flag ceremony at the schoolyard beneath a mountain after a quick breakfast.

I went home to Las Navas twice last year, in mid-October to bury our mother, Remedios Fua Lo, in our father Vicente’s tomb, next to that of my brother Rudy’s, at the town cemetery (as per her last wishes) and then again on Nov. 1 on All Souls/Saints Day. Last April, we brothers and sisters, in-laws and other relatives, gathered at the church for the installation of the two bells our family donated in memory of Nanay and Papa. Those bells have been ringing since then, I’m sure making our parents smile wherever they are (in the bosom of the Lord, I’m certain of that).

Las Navas nestles along the Catubig River just a few kilometers away from the Pinipisakan Falls (Tourism Secretary Dick Gordon could develop it into a tourist destination even only among Samareños) which is the source of the river, the same one where, as kids, we learned how to swim by being thrown into it by Papa who playfully caught us when we started to sink. Learning by trial and error, you know, and not the "scientific" way the Lozadas do it. In my town, kids as young as three or four can swim like a fish.

I was pleasantly surprised to discover that five stretches of, as Paul Anka calls them, thoroughfares dissect the town where there used to be only three. Talk about expansion. I saw the faces of my contemporaries in those of their children. My townmates (especially the senior ones) and I remembered one another by our first names. The years haven’t weakened that "bond" but only strengthened it.

Used to living in the big city, I was amazed that the streets, which I thought were wide in my youth, seemed to have shrunk, bounded on both sides by big beautiful houses that could compare to those in urban subdivisions. I don’t even know what the town population is, except that there seemed to be more people now – understandably so because, just like anywhere in the world, people in my hometown multiply faster than you can say, "Enough already!"

You can reach Las Navas by plane (to Catarman, where you can find the only airport in the whole Northern Samar) or by driving yourself or by taking the 12-hour trip on an aircon bus (highly recommended is Philtranco) which leaves the Cubao station at 11 a.m., travels through Laguna, Quezon, Camarines, Albay and Sorsogon, transported by a ferry boat to Allen and on to Catarman, Rawis and Catubig where you take a 15-minute motorboat ride to Las Navas. Whew! Just the same, if you have the patience and the stamina, it’s better to take the road trip because it gives you a quick run-through of the provinces mentioned, including a breath-taking view of Mayon Volcano from your window.

Fellow Waray Boy Abunda rued in his column a few issues back about the unfinished airport in his native Borongan (Eastern Samar). What saddened me was the poor road condition from Rawis to Catubig, never mind the eight-kilometer strip from Catubig to Las Navas which might take ages to finish. Yes, Samar (all of it) is rich in natural resources but very poor in government attention. I wonder how those politicians feel about their utter neglect of the province they claim (during election time) to "love."

There are no cars in Las Navas, only tricycles and bicycles; and neither are there moviehouses, only "video houses." But almost every household has a TV set, so residents are up-to-date with telenovelas and showbiz goings-on. At dawn, residents rise with the sun to the crowing of roosters and, since there’s no nightlife (what nightlife!?!), they turn in at around 8 p.m. Talk about the "early to bed and early to rise" routine. Life can be so simple and so uncluttered, see?

There are other improvements, though. There’s a high school now and a number of Navasnons have successfully pursued white collar jobs in Manila, or abroad. The town has produced several lawyers, engineers, pharmacists, accountants, doctors, dentists and teachers (dozens and dozens of them). Everybody is proud of everybody else while retaining that "small town-ness" feeling.

Tomorrow, Las Navas is celebrating its 54th founding anniversary, to be highlighted by the blessing of the new Municipal Hall and Multi-Purpose Hall, built with a budget of more than P6 million without any help from the provincial government. Hats off to Las Navas Mayor Arlito Tan.

Now you know why I’m writing this piece about my hometown. I owe it to my townmates. It’s my tribute to their fighting spirit.

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