Countryside tourism: Alive but pollution may just kill it

The Christendom’s observation of the Lenten season is finally over. Capped by a weeklong vacation or family reunions of urban dwellers in their provincial residences or preferred holiday destinations, it ended yesterday, Easter Sunday. It culminated with a rush back home amidst throngs of faithful and vacationers who tried to compete for every available public transport space and private car owners who were trying to squeeze themselves into a phalanx of cars in roro ships just to get a night rest before plunging into the usual regular day routines.

On the other hand, apart from the crowded beaches, those who preferred to remain in the metropolis enjoyed roads totally devoid of traffic jams and illegally parked vehicles. Though few, the scarcity of public transport presented a little concern to the faithful who wished to pay homage to the Great One.

Apart from being a week for Christians all over the world to pay homage to the Great One, it was quite obvious that tourism has finally found its mark in the countryside. On our way (me, my son and niece on Holy Wednesday) to Tangculogan, Bais City in Negros Oriental (my birthplace), we went to Bato, Samboan via Moalboal and Badian. Going back (on Black Saturday) we took the same route as well. Notably, in both ways, there was heavy traffic in Matutinao, Badian (where the Kawasan Falls is). Foreign and domestic tourists alike were just too excited to go canyoneering or to simply take a dip at the cold and running water of Kawasan Falls.  What a good sight to see.  So vibrant, so inspiring.

Onward to my birthplace, we had mixed emotions.  Yes, dolphin watching is still exciting and the white sand bar in Manjuyod still captivates.   Remarkably though, we could hardly see foreign tourists.  We can only surmise that, probably, this is largely due to some reported skirmishes in the mountains of the northern city of Guihulngan which is more than 100 kilometers away.  So far away.

This development, however, is still good news to the countryside.  Remember, the countryside is not a preferred destination of most moneyed foreign tourists.  Why?  Even skirmishes several hundred kilometers away from a peaceful tourist destination will always warrant negative travel advisories from other countries.  So that, the countryside relies so much on domestic tourism as local tourists understand better the situation in the rural areas.

The same is also true in Surigao del Sur.  As we all know, Surigao del sur is one of the country’s provinces that is at the receiving end of the New People’s Army’s (NPA) atrocities.  Sadly though, while such encounters happened only in the mountains of two adjacent municipalities, the perception that the entire province of Surigao del Sur is so dangerous for residents and tourists alike pervades.  So that, last year, while local tourists (me, together with some friends, included) came in droves and took a dip at the beautiful beaches of the islets in Britania, San Agustin, not a single foreign tourist can be found.

Tourism-wise, this development is quite frustrating.  For one, these two municipalities have two of the most beautiful sites to visit which are both far from the NPAs’ lair and so accessible.  Barangay Diatagon, Lianga, for one, has Bao-bao Falls, while Barangay Britania, San Agustin has beaches with Boracay-like sands in several islets.

However, the similarities between the tourism potentials of the City of Bais and the municipalities of San Agustin and Lianga in Surigao del Sur end there.  While these places are truly peaceful or safe for everyone, the City of Bais has a deleterious concern to address.  An ethanol plant right at the boundary of the City of Bais and the Municipality of Manjuyod is freely releasing its black and muddy liquid waste into the Bais North Bay.  This pollutant has turned the sand a tad brown and the seawater a bit murky in several islets in the area.  Consequently, the poor fishermen were badly affected. Their livelihoods were severely diminished.

Precariously, the Manjuyod Sandbar is just a few kilometers away.  So, if left unchecked, this will also kill its tourism potentials. Probably, this so called “Maldives in the Philippines” may soon be popularly known as the “Darkest Chocolate Sandbar” of the world.

Agreeably though, factories in the countryside are providing livelihood to the rural folks.  Obviously, it prevents rural exodus.  However, we can’t just simply provide wages to a few and kill the livelihood of the rest.  There must be some ways to create a win-win situation. Absolutely, an effective treatment plant is necessary.