Between Then and Now

CHAPTER NINE

Ryan

W e manage to fit into three jeepneys. With twenty-five people and all the luggage, it’s amazing it only takes three. It’s five in the afternoon, and the sun is setting. As we journey through the winding roads of Batanes, the sun paints the sky in shades of deep orange and soft pink. The sunlight filters through wispy clouds, casting a warm, golden glow over the rugged landscape.

The island's terrain unfolds before us like a painting—rolling hills dotted with grazing cattle, cliffs that drop dramatically to meet the turquoise sea, and quaint stone houses with thatched roofs nestled among coconut palms. Each turn reveals a view that’s more breathtaking than the last.

The air is crisp, carrying the scent of saltwater and wildflowers on a gentle breeze that rustles through the grass. In the distance, fishing boats bob on the calm waters, their reflections shimmering like mirrors under the fading sunlight.

As we approach a particularly scenic overlook, the jeepney slows, allowing us all to take in the panoramic view. The sun, now a fiery ball dipping below the horizon, reflects off the water’s surface and turns the horizon into a flurry of different colors.

“This is unbelievable,” someone whispers, breaking the reverent silence that has settled over us. We all nod in agreement, mesmerized by the natural splendor unfolding before our eyes. It is a moment of awe and gratitude, realizing how fortunate we are to experience such untouched beauty.

I glance at Bon, who is seated beside me. The wind from the jeepney window is blowing through her hair but she still manages to capture footage of the ride. She takes photos, videos, and records commentary on what she’s seeing.

“This is the town proper. The only place with reception,” our guide says, gesturing to the surroundings. In the town proper, there are local cafes with colorful facades, inviting small restaurants serving fresh food, and serene parks where locals gather. “This is a twenty-minute ride from our station.” The jeepney slows to an almost halt when the guide asks, “Do you need anything from the town before we make our way to the countryside?”

Nobody responds, so we continue our journey. As we leave the town behind, the transition to the remote countryside is stark. The paved roads give way to rugged paths, winding through rolling hills adorned with swaying grasses and occasional clusters of coconut palms. The landscape seems to stretch endlessly, untouched by modern development.

Birds soar overhead, their calls blending with the rustle of leaves in the gentle breeze. Bon continues to document our journey, capturing the essence of Batanes in each frame as the jeepney bounces along the uneven terrain.

When we arrive at our designated location, we stop at an inn nestled among rolling hills and overlooking the sea. The setting sun casts a glow on the charming structure, making it look like something out of a postcard.

The inn looks like a quaint and cozy house, like something ancestral. True to the aesthetic of this island, the middle structure is made of cobblestone walls. On opposite sides, there are wooden extensions that look like a bird’s wings sprawled out. I have a feeling the middle one is an actual home, and the wooden structures were added over the years by the succession of innkeepers .

It’s as if the inn itself has grown with every generation of the family that maintains it. The roof, a patchwork of wooden shingles, slopes unevenly, adding even more to the homey feel of the place. Ivy creeps up on one side, while brightly colored flower boxes (no, assorted boxes and pots and cans?) perch on the windowsill.

All of us are still admiring the inn when Dr. Fernandez calls for us to gather in front of it for our room assignments. Around the inn, there are several tents already set up, which I assume are where we’ll conduct our medical assistance.

Dr. Fernandez methodically assigns sleeping quarters to each group. People start moving towards their rooms, chatting excitedly about the cozy place and the breathtaking views. When she reaches me, she calls for Bon and me to step forward.

Bon is engrossed in capturing photos of the inn, so I gently nudge her to follow me. “Ryan, before we give you your room assignment, I just want to apologize for the lack of preparation on the organizers’ part,” Dr. Fernandez begins, her expression apologetic. “There’s a maximum of two people per room, and only one room at the top floor can accommodate more than that. Long story short, your friend Bon was added last minute, and unfortunately, there are no available beds with the women anymore. Your room, however, has a spare.” She trails off.

Bon raises an eyebrow, glancing at me as if to confirm we’re both hearing the same thing.

“I don’t mind sharing with Bonbon,” I say quickly, hoping to smooth over any potential awkwardness.

Bon nods enthusiastically. “Yeah, no problem at all, Doc. We’ll make it work.”

Dr. Fernandez looks relieved. “Thank you for being so understanding. You’ll be in Room 8, just down the hall. If there are any issues, please let me know.” She hands us keys to the room. It’s refreshing to see rooms with actual keys and not those beeping key cards.

As we make our way to Room 8, I can’t help but feel apprehensive. Sharing a room with Bon is going to be an experience, to say the least. I help her with her luggage since she packed like a celebrity on tour.

When we open the door to our room, we find a cozy space with two twin beds, a small wooden dresser, and a window that offers a stunning view of the ocean. Bon immediately claims the bed by the window, tossing her bag onto it with a satisfied grin.

“This is perfect,” she says, looking out at the view. “What a beautiful view, Miller, look! We even have direct access to the beachfront.” She opens the door leading to the sandy shore.

I chuckle, setting my own bag down on the other bed. “Yeah, it’s definitely going to be interesting.”

Bon pulls out her camera and starts snapping pictures of the room, the view, and even me, catching me off guard with her enthusiasm. I take a quick moment to look at Bonbon. She’s wearing denim shorts and a white tank top layered with a green and yellow crocheted sweater. She has a large headband on and white sneakers. She’s smiling as she scrolls through her camera.

“I have to go out for the briefing,” I tell her.

“Perfect, I’ll document it,” she says, already switching to her video camera. I nod and head out, with Bon following close behind. Everyone is already gathered in the middle of the inn’s courtyard, and I join the group while Bon stays a few steps back, filming the scene. Her dedication to capturing every moment is impressive. She has different cameras for photos and videos, and one of her luggage bags is solely for her production material .

Dr. Fernandez stands in the center, addressing the team. “Alright, everyone, welcome to Batanes. Our mission here is to provide medical assistance to the local communities. We’ll be setting up our primary station here at the inn. We’ll also conduct mobile clinics in the surrounding areas. The island is small, so we’re stationed in almost all parts of it. Make sure you familiarize yourself with the schedule and your assigned tasks. I’m going to pin this schedule on the bulletin board, and you can take a photo of it for reference.” She holds a large piece of paper containing our tasks.

“Some will be deployed here in the inn, some will be in the mobile areas in the surroundings. Some of you will go house to house to see if there are people in need of special assistance. All of you will have access to medicines and vaccines, should the residents need them.” Bonbon is strategically filming the entire spiel, probably making sure she has enough footage to choose from. She moves around to capture different angles, and while I’m following her with my gaze, I see her disappear behind someone. Alexa.

Alexa is nodding along, taking notes from Dr. Fernandez’s reminders. Her hair is up in a ponytail, her cheeks pink from the heat. She looks more beautiful than she did this morning. Unbelievable.

Dr. Fernandez continues, her tone becoming more serious. “The pandemic and the natural disasters have left a lasting impact on these communities. Many residents may not have had access to regular healthcare for quite some time. It's essential that we approach each situation with empathy and kindness. Remember, we're not just here to provide medical care; we're here to listen, to understand, and to offer support. These people have endured a lot, and our presence should bring them comfort and hope.”

She pauses, letting the weight of her words sink in. “Please, always be mindful of the cultural differences and the unique challenges these communities face. Our goal is to help without imposing. Respect their traditions and their ways of life. We are guests here, and we must act accordingly.

“You won’t be working 24/7. You will have time to go to the town if needed or attend to personal matters. Just make sure you update the team of your whereabouts and make sure your stations are manned.” Dr. Fernandez finishes her speech with a warm smile. “Let's make a positive impact here, team. We're here to make a difference, one step at a time. If you have any questions or need any assistance, don't hesitate to ask. We're all in this together.”

As Dr. Fernandez ends her speech, our guide approaches her and they speak quietly. After a few minutes, Dr. Fernandez returns to the middle and says “Okay, I just received an invitation from the local community. Apparently tomorrow is the Kulay festival, and we’re invited to join. We can spend our first day engaging with the community before real work starts after that.” This statement earns a cheer from the crowd. As the team disperses to take photos of the schedule and discuss their tasks, I can't help but feel a sense of pride. We are about to embark on an important mission, one that will challenge us and hopefully change lives for the better.

“That almost made me tear up,” Bon says from behind me. “Thanks again for helping me be here.”

I turn to her, smiling. “I'm glad you could come, Bon. Your documentary’s gonna be great,” I say sincerely .

As the sun completely sets over the horizon, we take a moment to appreciate the beauty around us. Even in the dark, the island is mesmerizing.

“Look at that view,” Bon whispers, her camera focused on the horizon. “We’re so lucky to be here.”

“Yeah,” I agree, feeling a rare sense of contentment. I look at her, her eyes peeking through her camera. “We really are.”