Chronicle to Narnia

This feature article was originally published in Forefront.

A student crosses the Academic Oval while admiring the greenery of the University of the Philippines Diliman campus. Photo courtesy of Joash Edric Malimban.

The alarm rings at 3 p.m. in the Molave Residence Hall where Miles Mendoza dorms at. Three minutes later, he traces the sidewalks of Magsaysay Avenue to attend his afternoon class.

At the University of the Philippines (UP) Diliman, Tuesdays are Mondays for most students. Two geography classes have already bullied the smile out of Miles’ face, not to mention the eye-opening class of Social Science 2 at seven in the morning.

Hanging by his neck are the binoculars he borrowed before leaving home for a dorm life in UP. It was a gift from his grandfather to his dad, and today, it finds itself on the way to the Arboretum with a geography undergrad. 

Miles’ destination is one of the remaining green spaces in Quezon City. The one-hectare botanical garden and “living laboratory” is home to him and the 70 species of endemic trees that reside there.

Turning to his right, Miles would soon find himself on Roces Avenue where the UP Lagoon lies. “Pok, poook,” sings the Coppersmith barbet, shooing love birds away from the bushes. The sound of this familiar friend fills Miles’ heart with delight.

“Piyuuuuw,” whistles the Black-naped Oriole, answering the “pokpok.” Not only is the lagoon flocked by a diverse species of birds but also quite a number of couples, Miles said. 

On Thursdays, he stops by to observe the wildlife. Birds are his common companions. With them, he finds the power to fly forward everyday that he longs for his family. They are the choir on his prayer walks, singing to him as he trods the grass, searching for God’s guidance.

Shaking the light feeling of jealousy away after witnessing inseparable couples in the lagoon, Miles continues to walk beneath the long line of thin kapok and tall mahogany trees.

On the left side of this road is the heart of the Academic Oval, the gaping pit-shaped Sunken Garden adorned with walkers like Miles. Students from every program and year end up here on a late afternoon, scrapping for the same sense of relief that it gives him.

After crossing Quirino Avenue, he catches sight of the UP Institute of Biology Threatened Species Arboretum. “Narnia,” he thinks to himself, consumed by a sudden flood of excitement.

Entering this garden is like stepping into a new world, far detached from the loud clutter of the city. It is only in this forest that the ipil-ipil and dapdap trees can talk him out of academic stress for about an hour or less, before having to walk back to his daily routine.

Seconds into the observation are the first mosquito bites.

The alarm rings at 5 p.m. at the arboretum inside the campus. Miles thinks of another green space, one that is threatened by an imminent demolition – the UP Arboretum along Commonwealth Ave.

From a protected forest area in 2020, it is now an “academic support zone.” Soon, however, it will become another biodiversity hotspot lost to an infrastructure project as planned by the university administration.

Miles laments this fact on his way back to Palma Hall, praying that it can remain a home to a balance of people and wildlife. He leaves hoping that ‘things will always work according to their nature', as Narnia put it. 

By the time Miles steps out of the forest, his skin is covered with cherry-colored constellations. “Be positive,” he laughs to himself, alluding to his blood type and his hope for the future of the UP’s green spaces.