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CAGAYAN DE ORO (MindaNews/30 May) -- Despite seeing the banner announcing the annual Masonic national convention that greeted us as our bus entered Cagayan de Oro City at nightfall, we took our chances, knocked on inns, hotels, and pensionne houses that closed their doors to us, receptionists shaking their heads saying “no vacancy.” Even along Nazareth Street we had no luck. Tonight, Cagayan de Oro City’s lodging houses, inns, and hotels were unbelievably fully booked, all of them were filled with Masons. Like arriving in Bethlehem, surely there must be some empty stable somewhere that my friend Clee and I were welcome to stay for the night. After a backbreaking almost seven-hour bus ride from Davao City, which took longer than usual because of road renovations, we needed to relax in order to prepare for our trip to Dumaguete the next day. Just one night was all we asked.
We discussed who the Masons are as we rode away in a taxi from yet another inn that said NO, laughing at the incongruity that a pilgrimage of a thousand fraternity members to Cagayan de Oro can actually crowd its lodging establishments. The city is really small, we thought. Or perhaps there were just so many of them Masons around. We finally stopped in front of YMCA Hostel. This must be the stable we were waiting for. “Surely there aren’t any Masons here.” We joked.
We were lucky. Or so we thought. We finally found one vacant double room in YMCA for only 350 pesos a night. Never mind that the smell of mothballs suffused the room, or that on the walls there were brownish dried up traces of water leaking from the ceiling, or the fact that we had to share a communal rest room. One night was all we needed. Besides, the air-conditioning functioned pretty well, there was a large television set that had cable connection, and most of all, the receptionist was graciously hospitable. Sadly, there was no wireless internet connection anywhere in the building.
Facebookers that we are, we knew we had to find a place where we could travel again, this time virtually sans backbreaking bus rides, armed only with our respective laptops. So Clee and I ventured to Divisoria, considered to be the heart of Cagayan de Oro where one can find the famous Park Café and the rows of Ukay-ukay stalls on Fridays nights, and settled in Bizness Depot where one can buy 70 pesos worth of Iced Coffee Mocha for unlimited hours of wireless internet connection bliss.
Yet, neither of us really anticipated stumbling upon a breakthrough on Facebook. It never even crossed our minds that if we had posted just one query about lodging places in Cagayan, we might have received a dozen comments.
So it was a welcome surprise that after posting an update about our hour-long search for a room to bunk in, businessman Lee Carlos, a long-lost friend from Silliman whom I reconnected with on Facebook last year, suddenly chatted with me, and invited me to stay at his house, the Malasag House, overnight.
“The entire house has wifi,” he added as though aware it was sufficient bait to convince me to pack my bags and leave in a jiffy.
The rest of the events happened in a flurry. At almost midnight, Clee and I then hastily packed our things, checked out of YMCA, rode on Lee’s car to Cugman, a sitio located in Malasag, Cagayan de Oro; flushed with anticipation as Lee told us that Malasag House is the ideal sanctuary to unwind without the distractions of urbanity.
MindaNews photo by Jean Claire Dy Perched atop Malasag Hill, around 7,000 kms above sea-level, the Malasag House is believed to have been built and designed a decade ago by Filipino architect Mañosa. It has mothered quite a number of families including Ramon Araneta Singh, before it finally found Lee and his partner Guus who transformed the house into a spa-like haven, decorated by souvenirs from Lee’s travels around the Southeast Asian region and Europe.  
MindaNews photos by Jean Claire Dy
We were greeted by two beautiful Rottweilers with the shiniest black fur as we entered the gates of the house. (Later we would meet another one resting inside.) It took us a few seconds to realize that they were the friendly types, big regal dogs with soft hearts, so to speak. Ulla, the prettiest one, wagged her tail as she followed us to the door that opened into a wide living room—its interiors splendidly minimalist with touches of quirky furniture, functional art pieces like sculptures that serve as chairs or tables, curio items and an impressive collection of paintings hanging on the walls. Right across the main door are sliding panel doors that opened to a broad veranda leading to a grassy lawn overlooking the city and the breathtaking Macajalar Bay stretching into the horizon.
MindaNews photo by Jean Claire Dy
Among the attention-grabbing pieces in the veranda were the two rocking chairs standing beside each other, perfect vintage pieces complimenting the Malasag House’s split-level California ranch style. Apparently the heart of the house, the veranda provides solace and calm to any visitor, and for any artist, it is ideal for re-awakening creative energies.
The rest of the night, we spent with our gracious host Lee, surfing the web, reminiscing about our friends back in Silliman over a few cans of beer, and definitely enjoying the soothing summer April breeze that visited us ever so often. At past midnight, Clee and I took out our cameras so we could shoot mementos of the colorful cityscape against the dark night sky.
Later, we slept soundly in one of the guest rooms on the second floor. Earlier, Lee had confided to us that he also had guests staying in the rooms located in the ground floor; a married couple who came to Cagayan to participate in national Masonic convention. “How did they find your place?” I asked quite curious. “They found the Malasag House website and then wrote to me,” he replied matter-of-factly. Amusing how it seemed that there was no way of escaping the Masons that night.
In the near future the Malasag House will be transformed from a spa house and healing center, offering one-of-a-kind massage services, into a bed-and-breakfast place. Through the years, the Malasag House has always been open to foreign clients of Lee’s high-end travel adventure business. Once he had a client whom he later discovered is a famous Spanish actor. Considering his hectic schedule, the actor enjoyed the solace that Malasag House provided and had vowed to return and promote the space to his friends abroad. “Oooh, if you could only write about these encounters with famous people,” I told him, as I listened to more stories of chance meetings with foreign celebrities who happened to have stumbled upon Malasag House, discovering refuge in it just like Clee and I did.
The next morning we were treated to a sumptuous home-cooked meal of frittatas, grilled Bangus, fried native chicken, mixed fresh fruits, and brewed coffee. After breakfast we again retreated to the couches located in the far end of the veranda with our hosts Lee and Guus, to relax over tall glasses of ice-cold orange juice, and chat about Lee’s travels around the world including his dream adventures that are nearing fulfillment. “I used to work as hairdresser and part-time biologist in Cambodia,” he revealed with a hint of pride. I wondered then at that moment if he could still cut my hair short pixie-like, but decided against telling him because it might be too much to ask. Apparently, he lived for a few years in Cambodia (one of my dream destinations) and had visited Angkor Wat several times. “Those masks are from Malaysia and Bali.” He pointed to the masks hanging in a queue on the walls of the veranda. I noticed a striking antique lamp that stood out from the stonewashed column walls that were mostly adorned with eye-catching intricately designed Asian masks. Lee explained the lamp was from Europe and that he decided to hang it among the queue of masks just to break the monotony.
I went down from the veranda into the grassy lawn towards the tall tree that stood solitary near the cliff surrounded by seemingly wild flowers. One of Lee’s guests, the husband whom I suspected is a Mason, had already awakened and had started a conversation with my friend Clee and the others. The conversation had obviously become interesting judging from their animated chatter, but I decided not to listen in as I was captivated by my surroundings and the view beyond the cliff. Enthralled, I followed with my camera a butterfly kissing the flowers nearby, sometimes cursing that I couldn’t get a clearer shot. Compared to the bursts of Van Gogh colors at night, the cityscape was less enchanting at noon, just a dull pattern of greens and browns.
What was most riveting was the interplay of hues of the sky and seascape. Except for a few billowing white clouds, the noonday sky had turned deep blue almost like Macajalar Bay.
Despite the shade the tree provided, I could still feel the blistering heat of sun on my face, and realized it was almost time to leave the Malasag House. It was time to go down to the city center, down to the noisy din of urbanity, where butterflies are rarely seen, and where the April summer air won’t provide relief but be merely a cumbersome companion in yet another journey that awaited us.
And so we left Malasag House riding Lee’s vintage jeep, rejuvenated, spritely even, effusing thank-yous to Lee’s partner Guus who seemed very busy but was kind enough to spend time with us, and waving “hasta la vista” to their three hospitable Rottweilers—Yoc-yoc, Ulla, and Adam.
As we rode down the winding road of Cugman from Malasag Hill, we carried with us a deep sense of anticipation of what’s ahead. At some point before we arrived at LimKetKai, Lee turned to me and said: “Claire, if you need a place to de-stress, Malasag House is always welcome to you.” It felt more like a re-assuring gesture of friendship than standard politeness. We could never thank him enough, we said. In the future, perhaps we can return the favor, we added as we bid him goodbye.
Indeed, the Malasag House was the ideal yet unforeseen reward for our endurance, our patience to scour the city streets notwithstanding that we had little chance of finding a place to stay. It was a testament to how friends we haven’t really kept in touch with for so long, can still be good Samaritans to people in need of refuge. The next day as I updated my Facebook regarding my plans to cut my hair short, Lee commented: “You should have asked me to cut your hair. I would be delighted.” To that, I giggled, secretly relieved with the knowledge that someday when I return to Cagayan de Oro, even a nation of Masons won’t prevent me from finding of place to stay, even for just a night.
For more information, visit: www.themalasaghouse.com
To view more photos by the author of this trip, visit: www.flickr.com/photos/clairetravels
(Jean Claire Dy is preparing for her travel to New York as a Ford Foundation fellow. Ms Dy is going to study in the New School, for Masters in Media Studies)
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