The Taal Volcano I Got Wrong: I Had Been Misled All Along

This is what I realized after our trek to Taal Volcano in Batangas.

It happened during our three-day teachers' recreation in Tagaytay City. It was an impromptu trek. We went to the Tourism Office and were offered a trekking tour. The guide brought us to a resort in Talisay, Batangas, almost an hour away from the office.

There, we were given life vests and boarded motorboats that could accommodate eight passengers each. We sailed across the calm lake for less than an hour.

When the boat docked at the foot of the mountain, the sun was at its peak. So we rested for a while.

After a few minutes, the weather changed — there was a sudden rain shower. When it stopped, the sky remained cloudy. We took advantage of the moment and started our trek while the sun was still hidden behind the clouds.

We were supposed to ride horses, but the price — P350.00 per person — stopped us. The trek was difficult. The trail was bare, with almost no trees and only a few bushes, and it was muddy from the rain. We were with Korean tourists who hiked on horseback.

Since the trek was unplanned, only a few of us were wearing rubber shoes. I myself was wearing my white doll shoes.

As we got closer to the top, the temperature got warmer. I could feel it coming from cracks in the ground that emitted white smoke. I felt the smoke with my palm. It was hot — the kind of heat that comes out of a rice cooker when the rice is boiling.

At last, we reached the crater. It didn't look like the usual mountain summit I had seen. It looked like a park to me — it was fenced with silver steel and the lake within the crater appeared serene.

Everyone was thirsty, so we went to a buko vendor. Each young coconut was P50.00. We wondered why it was that expensive when we were surrounded by coconut trees, but we gave in to our craving for fresh buko juice.

Then came the call of nature. We found toilet cubicles, and the caretaker was charging P5.00 for peeing and P10.00 for defecating. We had no choice.

After thirty minutes of sitting on the bamboo benches near the crater, we regained our strength and explored the top. On the other side, we saw a red rock that emitted even hotter smoke. The stone's surface itself was hot.

We got closer to the crater's edge, which was fenced. From the top, we could see the lake inside it and some animals grazing on its grassy bay. The presence of a nipa hut near the lake inside the crater only confirmed that the people living there do not fear the volcano's activity.

The sun was already setting when we started our trek down. As expected, going down was easier, but we had to be cautious — the muddy trail was slippery. To my dismay, my favorite doll shoes were completely worn out by the time we reached the foot of the mountain.

Back at Elim's House, I couldn't help but wonder: Why has no one ever corrected what is taught about Taal Volcano? The picture shown in Social Studies books and brochures — a small, perfect mound with a crater in the middle of a lake — is not the volcano itself in the way we imagine it. The real, active crater is on that island itself, and it takes a 45-minute trek from the lakeshore to reach it. What we see from Tagaytay is Volcano Island as a whole, but the true wonder is on top of it.

I fell asleep with this thought: "Is this a simple oversight by the authors of our Social Studies books, or is it a fact that has been disregarded because no one really cared to check?" Or perhaps, "Is the picture in the books just a symbolic representation?"

Whatever the purpose, many people, including me, had been misled. My edge is that I, together with my fellow teachers, had the chance to be there and discover the truth for ourselves.

What I learned from this 45-minute trek:

1. Books are guides, not always the complete truth, and even teachers need to verify. I say this with great respect for all teachers and authors. Perhaps they have not had the chance to visit the place themselves, or during the 1980s, resources to double-check facts were limited. It reminds me that learning is a shared journey — books provide the starting point, but firsthand experience completes the picture. This is an important part of Philippine geography, after all.

2. Most of the time, unplanned trips push through more than planned ones. This climb was unplanned, just for fun, but it gave me my first real experience of learning, unlearning, and relearning.

3. Bring money, even for basic needs. Bring extra for thirst-quenchers and toilet fees. I'm just glad there was a toilet at the top — at least no cat-hole digging was needed.

3. The locals found a way to make a living, and I respect that. At first, P350 for a horse ride to the crater, P50.00 for buko and P5.00/P10.00 for the toilet felt overpriced — it almost felt like extortion. But then I realized, life in that area is difficult. They live in the middle of a lake and their seemingly only source of income is fishing. That buko stand, the horse ride, and those toilet cubicles are business, and it's good for them. Who am I to complain when that small income helps them survive on an active volcano?

4. A crater can become a lake over time — and life goes on around it. Seeing animals graze and a nipa hut inside the crater was a quiet reminder of the resilience of nature and people.

This climb was unplanned, but it was worth every muddy step.