A storybook sanctuary in the midst of cowboy county
The pineapple fields stretch out for miles, their spiky stalks reaching up and out in acceptance of the midday heat. The Land Cruiser I’m riding in zooms through a wide clearing that cuts through them, raising brown dust in its wake. Yet despite the vehicle’s speed, the mountain ranges that border the plantation never seem to get any closer, remaining perpetually looming in the horizon.
I’m on my way to the Tumunigan Nature Sanctuary in Sankanan, Bukidnon, a 64-hectare property located at the foothills of Mt. Kitanglad. With me is my “guide” Paula Perrine, a tall, Caucasian-looking woman who nevertheless was born and raised in the area. She points out the stretches of greenery that cuts through the Del Monte farm: “It’s hard to believe but in those parts, the land dips down into ravines.” It turns out that the 25,000-hectare plantation at the Manolo Fortich municipality sits atop a high plateau that’s surrounded by the mountain ranges that we seem to see everywhere we turn.
Bordered by Misamis Oriental in the north, Agusan del Sur and Davao del Norte in the west/southwest, Cotabato in the south, and Lanao del Sur and Lanao del Norte in the east, Bukidnon is a cowboy county, a landlocked mass where much of the food from the Philippines’ Region 10 is produced. And while it is nowhere near the sea, the province is basically the water source of all of Mindanao, housing the region’s major rainforest watersheds, and its Mt. Kitanglad mountain range supplies water to the six river systems of Northern Mindanao.
Bukidnon is still known to most as the land of pineapples, but with dedicated locals working on developing what the place has plenty of to offer, it is on the verge of what could be a tourism boom—thought not exactly the kind of boom that Cagayan de Oro has experienced, with its franchise malls and commercial developments. Bukidnon calls for something different, something more authentic to its rugged beauty.
The Perrines are one of those locals. Related to the Fortich-Azcona clan whose patriarch Don Manolo had served as Bukidnon’s first governor, they switch with ease from the local dialect Bisaya to English to Filipino, even as their fair skin, sun-kissed hair, and aquiline features speak of Western roots.
Like something straight out of a fairy tale
We’ve finally reached the sanctuary, which John Perrine had bought in 1975 when it contained nothing more than browned grasslands, a clump of bamboos, and a solitary avocado tree. Today, it has a dense forest that boasts a mix of hardwood and fruit-bearing trees and encloses a sizable clearing that holds horse pastures, a coffee plantation, nurseries for giant bamboos and red calliandras, vegetable and flower gardens, and a mid-sized house that can be rented as a B&B. “He started with 12 species of ficus trees, acacia, narra, mahogany, bangkal—basically, he was like Johnny Appleseed,” says Renée Araneta-Perrine of her husband’s early reforestation works. She motions to the giant acacia tree towering over the house. “That tree is around 30 years old. Ferns, moss, orchids, and other ficus have grown on its trunk.”
Perrine’s decades-long work on the farm, when condensed into a simple story, sounds like something straight out of a fairy tale: Once the trees started to grow, the birds and bats came, which furthered the pollination and seed dispersal processes. As the trees grew in number, so did the local fauna. Then, as if from nowhere, water springs also appeared in the property, and rainfall became more regular in the area. “Even during the last El Niño season, it rained here at least once a week even when the land was bone dry just 200 meters away from the farm,” says farm manager Neil Binayao III. “Late in the afternoon, you can see the mist rising from the forest.”
A recent bird inventory in the property reported 64 documented species, some of them migratory. There are wild deer living in the woods, along with bats, civet cats, snakes, and monitor lizards. The forest’s floor area has also increased and gotten denser with natural growth. “It just shows that if you build it, they will come. Nature eventually takes over,” Binayao remarks. The place is now a far cry from the dry, desolate land that Perrine had discovered, a photo of which is kept on the wall of the farm home.
Sunny mornings, cool afternoons
Complementing Bukidnon’s fecund soil is its temperate climate, the two prime reasons why an American pineapple company deemed it ideal for its massive plantation back in 1927, and why the province continues to hold its status as the food basket of Mindanao. “What people can expect here are sunny mornings and rainy afternoons,” Paula Perrine says. “Though it can be warm during the day, it gets quite cool when evening drops.”
The topography is also varied enough to marvel visitors and recall to mind other faraway places: the rolling terrains, New Zealand. The rain forests, the Amazon. The wide grasslands, the African savanna. All of them are just minutes of driving away from each other. “I used to bring guests to this beautiful spot with a view like the Grand Canyon,” Perrine adds, describing a vantage point at the national Sayre Highway that used to provide a clear view of the Mangima and Tagoloan Canyons. “It was so wonderful to see especially in the morning.” The scenery, however, has since been marred by big electrical towers.
Raw and rugged beauty
With adventure camps beginning to attract tourists through the more immersive experiences they offer, Bukidnon’s “raw” aesthetic has become more valuable to an eco-tourism-centered promotion.
Kampo Juan and Dahilayan Adventure Park, both located at Manolo Fortich, bank on the province’s incredible views and lush vegetation for their adrenaline-pumping outdoor activities such as the “anicycle” or sky biking (at the former) and the dual zipline (at the latter). About 25 minutes away from the sanctuary, Bukidnon’s tribal capital Impasug-Ong, which is home to the province’s indigenous peoples and a rugged terrain of gorges, canyons, and mountains, serves as the base for the Center for Ecological Development and Recreation (CEDAR) where a 373-hectare part-man-made and part-natural forest is open for guided eco-walks. Then at the serene green waters of Lake Apo in Valencia City, floating bamboo huts are available for rent to those who want to navigate the circumference of the crater lake, which has a depth of about 85 feet. These are just the moderately developed tip of the iceberg of what Bukidnon has to offer.
“I think this is the best time for people to come and experience the place, when it isn’t crowded or too developed yet,” Perrine says. She’s right. With the Malaybalay city proper housing only a few hotels, it isn’t exactly five-star luxury tourism that will raise Bukidnon’s stock, but something more suited to its earthy beauty.
On the drive back from Sankanan, the late afternoon light bathes the pineapple fields in soft yellow light, where field workers can be seen gathering the suckers and shoots left behind after a recent harvest.
It’s as beautifully rustic a scene as any Amorsolo masterpiece.
A version of this story was published in the November 2013 issue of Garage Magazine. Lead image by Neil Konrad Binayao III.