The Giant Balete Tree of Siquijor

When we hear the word Balete, most of us would readily associate it with the enchanted and the supernatural beings like “kapre” and “tikbalang” (that’s “tayhu” to the Ilonggos), or where sorcery rituals are usually performed, and if we are superstitious then most probably we would avoid getting near this tree. However, this is not the case with the giant Balete Tree in Barangay Campalanas, in Lazi town of Siquijor. Instead of being a thing to be avoided by people, it is one of the island’s popular tourist attractions. 

It is considered to be the biggest Balete tree in the island and is reputed to be around 400 years old. But what is so extraordinary about this tree is there is a cold spring that originates underneath it. A concrete pool was built in front of the Balete tree to catch the flowing cold water, and in it are dark-pigmented fishes. I’m not sure what they were, but they look like gurami. One thing I was sure though, they were not the foot-spa variety. The water then overflows unto a roadside stream, and despite having too much withered leaves and petals floating on it, the cold water in the pool is clear. My companions and I couldn’t help but stroll around the pool and some were even daring enough to take a closer look under the curtain-like roots hanging near the pool’s edge, while the rest of us with cameras were busy taking pictures here and there.

This is the biggest Balete Tree in Siquijor, and is reputed to be around 400 years old

The pool overflows unto a stream running beside the road

There is no entrance fee, but they sure could use some donation for the maintenance of the place

As we rode away on our rented multi-cab towards our next stop I checked my photos. I thought my camera was probably jinxed (or maybe I needed a better camera) for it failed to capture the magical moment when at one point the century-old giant Balete tree’s withered leaves and flowers suddenly rained down upon us, transforming the surroundings like it was a scene from a surreal dream. Being an Ilonggo, as most of us in the group were, I immediately remembered the word “mariit” which seems to be an apt description for the place. Our grandparents would always warn us to stay quiet whenever we pass by an area that is regarded as “mariit”, otherwise the spirits who “live” in these places will get mad and cast evil spells on us like some parts of our body will swell, get distorted  or something. When the leaves started falling we were not held in a silent awe; in fact, quite the opposite happened. Loud oohs and aahs and other Ilonggo expletives came out of our mouths. Thank goodness none of us had damage to our facial nerves when we got home.