Regulate, not prohibit

It is my policy not to comment on letters written to me as reactions to my column. Oh, because most, if not all of them, contain profound ideas, I can only try my best to imbibe their thoughts. They are, indeed, great sources of information so that each time I receive a written feed back, I always become a better man. Yet, of those whom I could not help but acknowledge, I endeavor to keep their names off my corner.

Today is an exception. I received a communication from Mr. Lawrence M. Liao, of the Graduate School of Biosphere Science of Hiroshima University. I could feel the tremor of his heart when he said, “I am incensed that some people have turned the business of saving human lives into political fodder” for which reason I make his case as exception.

Mr. Liao sent me heavy reading materials detailing some problems of urban flooding in our neighboring Asian countries. He was confident that I could learn from their experiences. And, true enough, after spending some time in intuitively reading those manuscripts, I have come to realize that a thing that I have been doing these past few years can approximate as a miniature experiment of sort in helping prevent the occurrence of flood.

In two areas in this province, one in Toledo City and another in Barangay Paril, this city, I have been planting trees and I continue to do so in my small, slow and personalized pace. My modest means hold me back from making this as a big venture. This is certainly not any part of a massive tree-planting program that in some people’s formulation finds its way to the papers.

Truth to tell, mine is purely selfish in motivation. In choosing to plant Mabolo and Molave (Tugas), I thought I could provide my children (and their own kids later) some lumber materials when they build their homes. In Toledo, among the oldest of my Tugas trees are about 20 years old now. The 400 plus that grow there can supply their needs. Or so I thought, and I will explain later.

I have chosen Mabolo to plant in my small lot in Paril. When I discussed this idea of tree planting about five years ago, someone revealed to me that the Mabolo is the tree from which the lumber known as Kamagong, reputedly among the hardest of woods, is taken. My informant told me that for a carpenter to drive a nail into a Kamagong, he has first to drill it. That is how hard the wood is. That information placed blinders on me so that even if I have noted that this tree grows very slowly, I have continued to cultivate it.

Lately however, I received a shock I am not sure to recover from. Laying down the basis for the use of my children (or their own) of these trees, I asked for a Certificate of Tree Planting Ownership from the Department of Environment and Natural Resources. I was told it is impossible for me to get such certificate for my Mabolo trees for two apparent reasons.

One, the specie. Cutting this kind of tree as well as Tugas is accordingly absolutely prohibited. The smirk of the official who explained the situation to me revealed it all. To him, it was entirely my fault to choose this particular specie for planting so that even if I spent time, effort and some money, there is but no way I can cut down one tree, among the many I have cultivated. Two, Paril, the place where I have planted them is a protected area. To our government it is a conclusion that what grows in a protected area grows naturally and is not planted by man. Therefore, no man can cut any tree in it.

I like to believe that there are other persons who may have my kind of selfish motivation in planting trees. But believe me this motivation pushes us to plant trees. Remove it and we lose our enthusiasm to help green the balding mountains. I hope some government authorities may find an administrative way to put in place a regulation in cutting special trees instead of a total prohibition on their cutting. Such a measure can increase rather than dampen our enthusiasm.