to live, to love, to learn, to leave a legacy… and to laugh along the way
Our dream now is to keep developing the farm sustainably, to keep building cacao products we can be proud of, and to leave behind something the next generation can actually carry forward. If Gran Verde proves anything, it is that limited resources and a difficult beginning don’t have to be the end of the story – not if you’re willing to clear the land one patch at a time, and change course when the land asks you to.
The pull toward the wild isn’t new to me. Rather, it feels more like a homecoming. I’ve always been an outdoor man. It is a desire I rediscovered during my days as a young lieutenant. Patrolling the mountains with the elite Scout Rangers wasn’t just a duty; it was where I felt most alive.
Life doesn’t need to be complicated to be fulfilling; it just needs a dash of adventure, a bit of competition, and a creative mind to capture it all. My playing days may be over. As my Papa used to say: I used to be an all-around athlete, but now the only athlete left in me is my athlete’s foot! But the passion for the game – and the stories behind it – will remain as strong as ever.
The highlands of Alicia gave us more than a physical ascent; it offered a shared memory, a reminder that beauty, when pursued together, becomes a great, memorable experience. For Buchi, the grand adventure was a spark—one that lit up his imagination that hopefully will develop a strong bond with nature and a strong sense of responsibility over our environment. We are grateful for this wonderful opportunity to bond, to exercise, and most of all, to teach the young one of our collective responsibility for the wild, wonderful world he will learn to live and love in the years ahead.
Mt Apo has proved to me that the world’s most poignant stories are not always about reaching the top, but about returning with something intact, something earned, amidst the challenges one has to hurdle. It is about chasing a dream; something that will echo that craziness in me, yet has clothed me with a sense of pride for having at least tried. And if I ever forget, I will listen to the memory of the wind – the same wind that refused to yield my glorious sunrise in Apo; and instead whispered a different, humbling truth: that to live is to endure, and to endure is sometimes the bravest ascent of all.
The plan was to jump-off at midnight, and chase the sunrise that would appear if the clouds decided to yield. The world, however, was simply uncooperative. The clock ticked as the wind screamed, while light, sporadic rains started to drench our tents. Lucky for us, the rains had stopped when midnight came. We went on our way; but the wind sang hoarsely like a chorus of knives. Still, we trudged on; even as the terrain, the cold, the dark, the strong winds – and my bum stomach – were all clearly aligned against us.
Color My World 