But the areas around the volcano are also hubs of commercial activity in the province, and residents are willing to risk personal safety in exchange for livelihood opportunities.
The risks also appear to have been minimized in recent years by sufficient warnings issued by volcanologists when Mayon showed signs of eruption, and by weather experts when a typhoon approached.
Those typhoons are numerous. The Bicol Region faces the Pacific Ocean and is often the first to be hit by weather disturbances as they enter Asia. Catanduanes, in particular, serves as the unwilling welcome mat for typhoons.
The frequency of such natural calamities has inured Bicolanos to the dangers. Villagers simply seek refuge in evacuation centers, then return to their homes once a natural calamity has passed.
This time there was no warning about lahar, deposited on the slopes during Mayon’s recent eruption, that might be loosened by heavy rainfall. When typhoon "Reming" struck, the mud and lahar rampaged down the volcano’s slopes.
Politicians should share part of the blame for their failure to develop the potentials of Albay so that residents can be persuaded to leave the slopes and the foot of Mayon for better livelihood opportunities in safer areas.
The tourism industry that has developed around Mayon, for example, is not dependent on getting as close as possible to the volcano and its crater rim. Mayon and its perfect cone are best appreciated from a certain distance, and there are towns around the volcano that have their own tourism potentials.
The entire Bicol Region in fact can use a boost in tourism and commercial development.
In other countries, geothermal springs are a major tourist attraction, aggressively marketed by their officials. Filipinos who have seen the Tiwi hot springs at the national park in Albay may be disappointed by geothermal attractions in other countries. Yet the foreign destinations are better marketed by their governments.
Coastal communities around the Albay Gulf are just starting to see the potentials of eco-tourism in the regular visits of whale sharks and dolphins in the area.
Even the annual Peñafrancia can use the kind of marketing that has made Aklan’s Ati-Atihan a major tourist draw.
Hawaii has made the macadamia a virtual state symbol. Why can’t Bicol’s pili nut enjoy that kind of branding? The same goes for products made of abaca fiber.
Given the proper incentives, villagers can be persuaded to move out permanently from homes that are in the path of lahar flows from one of the country’s most active volcanoes.
The slopes of Mount Mayon and the soil within several kilometers around the volcano are among the richest in this country. Bicolanos like to say that anything they stick into the ground will grow.
So Mayon’s lower slopes are lush with vegetation (sorry, dear Brenda Jr., it’s not a denuded mountain), notably banana-like abaca plants from whose leaves we get our natural hemp. Jackfruit trees are so laden with the fruit the jackfruits are kissing the ground. On rainy days residents collect mushrooms and edible ferns called pako for personal consumption and also for sale to motorists.
Like the rest of the Bicol landscape, you will see pili trees around Mayon — that nut unique to the region that we use as substitute for almonds although pili is oilier.
It is a picturesque land that cannot be easily abandoned for good, especially by those who were born and bred in the area.
Tourists can drive all the way up to the middle of the slopes of Mayon. The panoramic view from that spot is impressive.
Mayon is a major tourist draw even when it is erupting. From the safety of hotels in nearby towns, tourists can watch glowing lava flowing down the slopes of the volcano.
The town of Daraga in Albay is also a tourist destination. In 1814 a major eruption by Mayon buried the town, at the time called Cagsawa, in lahar, leaving only the belfry of the Cagsawa church visible.
About 1,200 people had sought refuge in the belfry, believing it was high enough to be safe from rampaging lahar, and surely believing they would get divine protection in a church. All 1,200 perished.
I have pictures of myself at different times of my life, standing on the lower opening of the belfry, the volcano visible behind me — the typical tourist shot of the area.
My mother is from Bicol and I grew up listening to all the Bicol dialects in our household. I know the typical Bicol family is large even by national standards; it is not unusual to hear of families with 10 to 12 children with ages ranging from 2 to 20. These are religious people and they take to heart the biblical admonition to go and multiply.
It is particularly catastrophic for such families to lose the sole breadwinners. That was the story yesterday from the villages hit by deadly mudslides: scores of children orphaned overnight.
The Philippine National Red Cross said the death toll from the avalanches of mud could surpass 1,000, rivaling the death toll from the mudslide that buried the village of Guinsaugon in Leyte earlier this year.
As in Guinsaugon, authorities cannot keep track of the identities of the dead and missing in Albay. Because of the lack of coffins and mortuary services, recovered cadavers have been buried in mass graves without the benefit of proper identification, to prevent the spread of disease. Entire families could have perished in the mudslide, with no one left to identify the victims.
Despite the grievous death toll, you can bet that Reming’s victims will return to their flattened homes even if these are in the path of mudflows.
And it won’t be the last time that we will see this kind of tragedy.