I felt living during Judas’ time but holding an Olympus 500e  instead of a bag of coins.

I would not imagine anymore the topographic location of Gethsemane. Neither that of the Skull Mountain of Golgota. Last year’s presentation captured exactly the ambiance of Jesus’ last days on earth. He prayed so hard and even sacrificed Himself being nailed to the cross to redeem the sins or the world. I don’t like to think that the Lord’s sacrifices are in vain despite a few drunk or smoking flagellates or that insistent penitent begging me to buy him a stick of cigarette.

A little more than a hundred flagellates made their skins bleed through whipping themselves on their backs or thighs or allowing a couple of guys to make incisions on their skins with a cutter or blade between utterance of unprintable invectives. I guess because of pain. After the day’s sacrifice, they all went to the sea to wash their wounds. It is believed that sea water heals wounds and prevents infection. Traditionally this is held at the old Gasan public cemetery every Good Friday.Via Crusis was done along the streets of Boac and Mogpog. You don’t have to regret being born today, for you will still witness and above all feel and experience the cruelties of Jesus’ time. Even animals do not deserve this. At one point, "Jesus" complained aloud, " Araaaay. . . . totohanan naman ang palo mo." A morion even instructed the soldiers, "Sa kahoy lang ang patama ." (Referring to the wooden cross Jesus was carrying.) The street ritual ended on a low hill apparently simulating the scene where Jesus was nailed on the cross together with the two thieves. His seven last words even if repeated year after year and interpreted in various ways still touch many believers.

Discrepancies between lip movements of players and those of the narrator via the loud speaker seemed unnoticeable. Cathartic effect upon the audience was very obvious. Scenes and props were authentic. So was the setting. Acting of the participants appeared very natural. When Longinus trusted his spear on Jesus’ chest, blood spurt instantly. His blind eye caught a drop of blood. "A miracle!" he shouted "I can see. My blind eye can see. The Lord has healed me. I can see." He announced to the world, as he ran excitedly around the arena.

Local priests eloquently expounded Jesus’ seven last words on Good Friday. "We can see with Jesus. We can see the good and the bad. May our local officials see our problems right here in Marinduque. May our national officials see also the overwhelming problems of our country." The words of the priest reminded me all of a sudden of Boy Adona’s gripe. Boy Adona, our guide on our group’s nature trek and a resident of Barangay Cansuroc, described to us interesting segments of the mountainous trails we passed by. Pulang Lupa hill had been bulldozed five years ago – a few months before the last election to create a passable road for motorized vehicles to transport people and their produce. That was the promise of the local officials. To transport especially children who until now walk for hours every school day to reach their schools in the next town. During rainy days, the children do not go to school because they cannot cross a number of river beds overflowing with swift running water. Trails are slippery, too. Small children can not go to school by themselves, lest they drown or fall into pits covered by tall weeds. Neither can they keep their school clothes clean because they are splattered with mud along the way. Or sometimes they slide and fall because of the rough and at other times slippery trail. The only place of learning in Cansuroc is a day care school. Is this not for pre-school babies only? The proposed 19-kilometer mountain road could have improved the way of life in this particular sitio, Cansuroc and its neighboring towns in Marinduque. The cleared areas that once gave Boy Adona a glimmer of hope to improve life or merely experience a little convenience in travel now boasts of wild grass, tall shrubs, and shattered dreams. Boy cannot understand what happened. Officials assured them there was enough fund for this construction.

Ever hopeful, Boy Adona still prays that the present officials, the governor of Marinduque especially, will retrieve the forgotten project. I am not from Marinduque, but I sympathize with the condition of this beautiful place. With the proper endorsement of the local DOT especially that of my student in photography, Gerardo M. Jamilla, Marinduque provincial tourism officer, it can be done. Marinduque is a tourist destination. Aside from the Morion Festival, there are still unexplored nooks, mysterious falls, scenic views, creative people, and natural wealth hidden somewhere. They remain undiscovered because of the forgotten road.