In the heart of the Philippines lies a destination of spiritual significance – Mount Banahaw. Towering over the landscape with its majestic presence, this sacred mountain has long been a pilgrimage site, especially during the Lenten Season.

However, recent safety concerns led to the closure of trekking paths, prompting authorities to discourage pilgrims from ascending its slopes since 2004, especially during the Holy Week.

Mount Banahaw spans the municipalities of Lucban, Tayabas, Sariaya, Candelaria, and Dolores in Quezon province, as well as portions of Rizal, Nagcarlan, Liliw, Majayjay, and San Pablo City in Laguna.

Yet, amid these restrictions, one Filipino commuter persists in her annual journey home in Kinabuhayan, a rural barangay in the town of Dolores Quezon that serves as an entry point to the mystic mountain of Banahaw.

Mayumi Santos, a 45-year-old nurse who was born and raised in Dolores and now lives in the bustling city of Manila, finds herself drawn back to her roots with an inexplicable force each Lenten season.

Strange attraction

Despite the challenges and restrictions, she is drawn back to her hometown by a force more potent than any earthly obstacle — a calling from her late sibling, whose presence continues to guide her through dreams and memories.

Mayumi recalled that she and her sibling, Dana, used to trek Mount Banahaw two decades ago, but they could not do it again because of their busy schedule.

She said Dana relocated to the United Kingdom five years ago because of her work as a nurse. However, Dana succumbed to Covid-19 last 2020.

Mayumi, on the other hand, relocated to Manila six years ago because she worked as an accountant in a private firm in Bonifacio Global City in Taguig.

"My sibling, Dana, visited me once in a while in my dreams after she died a few years after she died from Covid-19, urging me to return home each year during Lent. It's a calling I cannot ignore," Santos said.

"One of (Dana's) last messages to me before she died is to check my mother and father once in a while now that they are senior citizens," Santos said.

Dolores, Quezon, holds a special place in Mayumi's heart. It's where she was born and raised, where her family's roots run deep into the fertile soil of tradition and spirituality.

And though physical distance may separate her from her hometown, the spiritual bond remains unbroken.

"Coming home during Lent is not just a tradition; it's a pilgrimage of the soul," Mayumi said.

"It's a time of reflection, repentance, and remembrance. And for me, it's a way to honor my sibling's memory and the connection we share beyond the realms of the living," she added.

The closure of Mount Banahaw's trails, a precautionary measure by local authorities to preserve the ecological balance and ensure the safety of pilgrims, has not deterred Maria from making the journey.

For her, the pilgrimage extends beyond the physical act of climbing the mountain; it transcends into a spiritual odyssey guided by faith and familial ties.

"I may not be able to hike to Mount Banahaw with my sibling anymore; the Lenten season is a time for reflection and reconnecting with my roots. Despite the bustling streets of Manila, nothing compares to the tranquility and sense of belonging I feel when I'm home," she added.

Maria's annual pilgrimage is a personal journey and a testament to Filipino culture's enduring traditions and resilience. Despite the challenges posed by the closure of Mount Banahaw's trails and the ongoing urbanization, the spirit of devotion and reverence for tradition remain unwavering among the townsfolk of Dolores.