Holy Week is fast approaching, and as is the case every year, throngs of people will leave the big cities and venture into the far corners of the country to spend the week with friends and family in their home provinces. It brings to mind the many trips my family and I have made to our province — Eastern Samar.
Though I would love nothing more than to leave the city and enjoy a brief sojourn in the land I call home, I cannot. There is much work to be done, and numerous responsibilities demand my attention. So here I am, reminiscing about the fond memories I have of that faraway paradise.
Nicknamed “The Eastern Gateway,” Samar was the first piece of Philippine land spotted by Magellan and his crew. The island derives its name from the Waray word samad, meaning wound or cut — a reference to its rugged geography. It is separated from Luzon by the infamous San Bernardino Strait, a crossing that was once the bane of sailors in the Philippines. Its violent, treacherous waters became the watery grave of many an honest seafarer. For a time, it remained an almost insurmountable barrier — until the advent of the steam engine freed ships from the mercy of the wind and tide. Today, travelers can rest assured that their crossing is safer and more comfortable than it was for those who came before.
But upon reaching the shore on the other side, one is greeted by what I can only describe as among the most pristine and breathtaking scenery in the country. Crystal-clear waters stretch as far as the eye can see, white-sand beaches line the coast, and vast swaths of unspoiled land cover the island’s wild interior.
I last visited Samar in 2019, years after my previous trip in 2014. It was only then that I fully appreciated the beauty of this idyllic place. The province stood in stark contrast to the urban areas of Luzon, both in landscape and lifestyle. The fresh air did me wonders — gone was the smog and gloom of faraway Manila. Rolling hills and thick forests stretched endlessly beyond my view. The only traces of human civilization between the cities were the humble hamlets and villages along the highways, which serve as the island’s main arteries for commerce and travel.
Yet even amid this serene setting, I could not ignore the harsh realities faced by many of its inhabitants. Poverty remains prevalent, particularly among subsistence farmers and fishermen who have lived as their ancestors did for generations. Despite its dazzling natural beauty, Samar remains home to some of the poorest provinces in the country — Northern Samar, Western Samar, and Eastern Samar. Public infrastructure lags behind, with schools lacking modern equipment such as computers and internet access. And cell signal is virtually nonexistent outside major towns and cities. Even in urban centers, it is inconsistent at best.
These challenges have gradually improved over the years, though progress remains slow. Still, I am hopeful that life for the average Samar resident will continue to get better. Economic disparities aside, I have always been inspired by the cheerful and resilient disposition of the locals. In my experience, they are among the most welcoming people I have encountered — more so, perhaps, than those I meet in Metro Manila. Whether that is nostalgia speaking or the truth, I cannot say. But one thing is certain: I am beyond fortunate to call Samar my homeland. I could not have asked for a more perfect birthplace than that emerald isle, tucked away on the western shores of the Pacific.
Even now, as I write this, my heart longs to return — to once again feel the embrace of my home, if only for a fleeting moment.
If you have a home province beyond the big cities, take the time to appreciate what it has to offer. Acknowledge its imperfections. Our country is one where many regions still lag in economic growth and social development. Some places will not offer seamless internet access. Others may have limited entertainment options. But there is always more than meets the eye.
In these far-off locations, a rich culture and history await — steeped in tradition, ready to be discovered, experienced, and cherished by those who seek adventure and meaning. Let us celebrate our humble provinces for what they are and what they can become. Above all, let us remember our roots, especially those of us who left in search of a better life in Metro Manila and beyond.
And who knows? Perhaps by sharing our love and pride for our faraway homes, we may spark even the smallest change for the better.
