The bus ride was a bitch for the godfather.

I left for Malaybalay, Bukidnon early morning of Sunday as I promised to my former colleague that I’ll be the ninong of her firstborn son, Leobert John. I was excited of course because it would mean seeing the marvelous landscape of Bukidnon after almost a year of not passing through the Davao-Bukidnon-Cagayan route.

I woke up at 5am with the hope that I’ll be able to catch a non-stop aircon bus that would just take about 4 hours. There was no non-stop aircon until 10 am so I have to make do with the estimated 5 hours ETA with 4 stops. The sky was overcast and it rained. It rained so hard the moment the bus left but I didn’t gripe on it. What really flared me up to point I almost jammed the horn was because the driver and ticket dispatcher/collector didn’t come back until an hour after the ETD. They probably played tong-its or fucked each other twice in the filthy CR or god-knows-wherever.

I missed riding the bus actually so I was looking forward to it despite the 2-hour delay that I thought I will cause during the whole christening proceeding. Good thing the mass was late. I saw the San Isidro church of Malaybalay about twice but I never really got in. Inside it was a sight to behold. Just like the churches in Butuan, Agusan and Dapitan, it feels ancient and golden. Bukidnon also has the Transfiguration Church situated amidst the vast plains and mountain ranges. I wish I had a camera and I wished it wasn't raining. I didn't capture its architecture from the outside which resembles a massive black pyramid from the outside.

So the priest got on with the head-rinsing ritual and the whole rhetoric of godfather responsibilities. It suddenly occured to me that it was the first time I sat through a whole baptism considering that I am already ninong to about 4 children, all from high school classmates.

I ate like a pig or rather I ate the pig -- lechon that is. I did not have breakfast during the entire bus ride which was made excruciatingly long by people who seem to think they own the fucking bus by staying in the CR for too long, marauding the market and not buying anything, marauding some more before finally deciding to go back while the rest of the passengers are clutching their bags hoping to give them a beating.

Night was cold in Malaybalay which was great - one thing I love about the place. When you walk at daytime, you know ultraviolet rays are penetrating your skin but you don't feel jumping into a tub of ice water because of heat. While listening to the crickets, I decided that I would not pass up the chance to bask in the spring water resort the next morning to travel another hellish 5 hours just to get my index finger inked and vote unknown people in the barangay elections.