The story of Malungon’s Casa Eliseo
“Other things may change us, but we start and end with the family.” –Anthony Brandt
Once upon a time in the 70s, my father Eliseo, with hard-earned savings he accumulated together with my mother Eser, a school teacher, bought land in Malungon town, Sarangani province in Mindanao. That savings went a long way, in what has now become a mountain haven named Casa Eliseo.
A hardworking farmer whose humble origin was from a village (or barangay as we call it in the Philippines) in Valderrama, Antique province in the Visayas island, he found an area, brought his siblings, so they can be together and help him build his dream. The struggle was long, and another story in itself.
That was an awesome feat for someone who finished grade four in elementary school. I wouldn’t say “only” because he can out-read many in today’s generation. When our grandfather died, he became the head of the family, and of course, though he dreamed of education, it was no longer a priority.
How he found his way from Visayas to Mindanao courtesy of the government’s national relocation plan in the 50s, I wish (even deeply regret) I tried to find out before he died in 2008. My father possessed an incredible foresight not anyone with a master’s degree can match.
My father’s brother Uncle Diding and his family stayed and farmed where they can. The rest of his siblings left and established in other places. All of them had a final reunion before he passed away after a year of battling with kidney disease and other complications.
My father’s deepest desire, I surmised, was to keep his family together when my grandmother Felisa died. He may not have achieved that completely, as most families struggle to, but at least he tried his best.
It took us a long time to muster the courage to develop the place. I guess I should write a book about how two sisters made it happen. We lived in another town and the resources needed aren’t a joke. But, you see, everything happens in God’s sweet time. It did. Gradually. Painstakingly.
The growth was what we have exactly envisioned. Gradual and in our own pace. No rush. It was like watching a seed open into a plant. What we really want is for Casa Eliseo to honour our father’s love of farming and nature. He never had the chance to enjoy the fruits of his labor, but we are happy to share it with others who have the passion.
Almost 50 years ago, when we were small children visiting the place, together with our cousins, we would ride the carabaos and horses (yes we had hornes then) that took us to the cornfields. We also gathered vegetables in the roadside, where camote and alogbati tops abounded. We stumped on makahiya, a prickly herb that immediately folds as soon a you touched it.
The small waterfalls where we bathe and took drinking water, still exists, thankfully. We scaled the steep slopes going there when I went home, we were happily surprised it survived the onslaught of civilization and hopefully much longer for our children to enjoy.
My sister Nanette and I, together with our children and grandchildren, hope to maintain the simplicity of the place, honouring nature, peace and quiet. The pandemic has taught us that life is all about appreciating what we have and being grateful of our blessings.
Nothing too fancy is important these days. Life is too precious to spend it in frivolous moments. Let’s just bask in the beauty of God’s creation and take good care of it.
“In family life, love is the oil that eases friction, the cement that binds closer together, and the music that brings harmony.” –Friedrich Nietzsche
My story: Married, jobless and a mom at 18 Click to follow and read my stories: Cecil Laguardia @ Medium
