Leaving Manila for creative cocooning in Laguna

It’s almost every dog-tired urban warrior’s wish to vanish from the city and live a gentler life in the countryside: to have that luxury of waking up with no reason to rush, to rise up and gaze at amazing scenery, enjoy a good cup of coffee and, oh yes, to practice the art of wasting time. (And of course, to return to the city once more when that thirst to run with wolves crosses one’s mind again.)

This year my husband and I finally resolved to build a house in our forest property in Luisiana, a town in the province of Laguna. I’ve always been mesmerized by the rawness of the town and the friendliness of its people. Luisiana is a good three-hour drive from Manila and has earned its moniker, “Little Baguio of Laguna”, because of its elevation and cool climate. It offers an impressive view of Mount Banahaw, a mystical mountain known to be home to faith healers.

Luisiana is an agricultural town with rice and coconuts as main produce, and baskets handwoven from pandan leaves as its distinct craft. The población, or town plaza, is its social hub (and basketball court) where locals enjoy street food and chat, especially in the evenings. And there’s always a lot of drinking. People here like to drink lambanog (coconut vodka), passed around and sipped from a shared shot glass.

I fancy the place as “Under the Tuscan Sun meets Duck Dynasty” as the rustic charm of its landscape gets edgy points with the local fashion: colorful rubber boots for when it gets rainy and muddy (as it does half the year) and bolo knives tucked at the waist for foraging in the forests or for clearing paths going to farmlands. For the young, there’s a hip-hop vibe with trucker caps and hoodies. For the elderly, it’s dandy tailored coats often courtesy of the ukay-ukay (secondhand apparel) stall at the market on Sundays.

Though I’m not quite set yet to trade the adrenaline rush of living in the concrete jungle for the stability and serenity of living in this paradise, it’s an entertaining place to be, with a lot of novelty factor. For now, the occasional stay in our lovely forest are periods of incubation – I call it creative cocooning – for when I need to leave the city to get new juices flowing.

Traveling isn’t just for recuperating, it’s also for the act of making.

When I travel to my favorite hideaway in Luisiana’s woods to work on a long-delayed creative project on my bucket list, I start to feel a sense of significance. Being here means time to listen to that voice in my head as I reckon with the messy parts of creating. American journalist Gene Fowler described it as starting “at a blank piece of paper until drops of blood form on your forehead!” But I thank myself afterwards for at least starting something, or at best, accomplishing what I’ve always dreamed of doing.