My New Comfort Zone

Before acrophobia took over

In the past six years, I had been coddled by the comforts of the media industry's lifestyle beat, especially when it comes to traveling. 

Whenever I joined media familiarization tours, even if it involved  trekking in the outdoors, we, the writers and bloggers, would always be well taken care of. Porters would be hired to carry our stuff, personnel would be ready to hand us drinks, and modes of transportation would be present at any given moment. 

That's how babied media could be at the times. Unfortunately, others get used to it to the point that they demand all the privileges when that should never be the case. (But that's another topic altogether that I'd rather not discuss.) 

And so I wouldn't blame my best friend for telling me, "That's not you bes," after seeing this photo I shared over Instagram: 

(Photos from Ms. Weng)

That's me learning the basics of ropemanship and applying it in an actual scenario: which was to cross a gushing river during rainy weather with an emergency harness. The training was led by Sir Rick, our co-founder and leader of Random Act of Kindness (RAK). It was held at Daraitan River in Sitio Manggahan in Tanay, Rizal where our group organized an outreach for the marginalized community and Dumagat tribe the day before. (Read Finding Meaning in the Mountains-Part 1)

With half a day to spend at the remote village snaked by the river, RAK members decided to spend for ropemanship. Sir Rick first showed us how to properly cross a river without any ropes while sharing tips and tricks to our survival. Of course, it looked easy but I highly doubted it was. And then, he tied a line from the two sides of the river. This was were rope harness tied to us would be connected. 

Thanks to peer pressure, I came third in line. What happened surprised us all. Because of the continuous rains (the weather was bad even before we got at Sitio Manggahan), the water in middle part already reached my chest, I actually got swept away by the strong current. But thanks to our safety line, I was safe, haha. Yay, it worked! 

Still, I had to be semi-rescued because I couldn't stand anymore and finish the task on my own. About three came to me and two held the rope steady. 

It was well documented you see: 

Ready, steady

About to be swept away!

All of them to the rescue!

The only time Sir Alex did not bully me. But he went back to it right after we got back to land. 

When I returned to the rest of RAK, what do I get? Bullying! As always, we just made it a laughing matter. And all was good afterward especially with the shot of lambanog to warm the body. 

The week before that, we climbed Mt. Daraitan to raise funds for the community outreach and that too proved very challenging to the sheltered lifestyle journalist that I was. 


For the first time in my entire traveling life, I experienced the most number of falls I could ever had. Funny, in the beginning of the descent, I was even boastful for saving myself a couple of times from slipping thanks to my quick reflexes. This proved to be useless on the last hour of the four-hour descent because of the ruthless trail--muddy and slippery as fuck. Add to that my exhausted and lampa legs. I was a disaster. Haha. 

Muddy and slippery as fuck

Slip here, fall there. Landing on my butt, stopping the fall with my hands. At one point, my left hand without gloves landed on a sharp stone cutting it. I was bleeding and I needed to get a first aid. Hoho. On another instance, I landed with my right arm planting on the soil. I froze on the ground and thought oh God, hope I did not dislocate my arm. Thankfully, I did not. 

"Maisusulat ko pa," I would tell Sir Rick and my best friend Xerlyn, as well as the local guide. The four of us in the tail of the pack. 

We also went off trail and had to cross a narrow cliff. I almost slipped here too. But no worries, I was well assisted. 

All the time, our destination which was the Daraitan River at the foot of the mountain could be heard flowing with might as if we were getting nearer but we weren't! What a tease.

But as what life does not cease teaching us, it was never about the falls but how one got back up on his/her feet after. So on zombie mode, I did finish the hike. I was covered in mud and sweat combined and sure looked nothing like a lifestyle journalist.  

Yet, I felt as if I belonged there, in the great outdoors. In time, I will make it my new comfort zone.