Tears of The Croc

CROC FREE   All smiles after Lolong's capture

When “Lolong”, that large crocodile believed to have terrorized the town residents of Bunawan along the Agusan Marsh in Caraga and allegedly decapitated a carabao (water buffalo) prior to its safekeeping, was captured earlier last month, it immediately created a buzz. Just hours after its heart-stopping search, the croc that had been lurking under those equally large lilies of the marsh eventually came out reeling, succumbing to its relentless hunters, and almost overnight became an instant sensation.

When it was finally captured, its presence more than shocked the spectators into seeing an enormous creature, virtually impossible to subdue with bare hands, tied, motionless and keeping its mouth shut amid a flood of people wanting to get a glimpse of it. Lolong is approximately 21 feet long, and by all indications could become the largest living crocodile to date, unless Guinness wishes to contest it with some of the largest crocs infesting the jungles of South America and Australia. But Lolong, by far, is simply massive when it comes to size and a beast when it comes into the scene. One wonders that if this creature remains elusive, it could probably decapitate an entire barangay with its menacing arrival and an even more menacing scowl.

Its name was taken from a local croc hunter, Ernesto “Lolong” Conate, believed to have captured this leviathan of the marsh but somehow suffered a stroke and died immediately after taking the crocodile into captivity. Since then, the name had struck a personal chord in the region, eventually seeing Lolong as a cuddly creature incapable of doing harm to the people (much less to a water buffalo) in an area where attacks of that sort had its bloody history. It took more than a week, however, before Lolong finally ate, as most experts believed that the croc found it hard to adjust to his new environment where tourists and thrill seekers flock to the hoots just to stare its hide a few meters away from its now cloistered setting.

And not long after its celebrated capture, the local government of Bunawan had already cashed in on everything “Lolong”. Small-scale businesses had already made a camping out of the presence of the creature, the mood was festive, and those who gathered around the crocodile saw an opportunity to mingle with one of the region’s newly-treasured resource (of course, third only to politics and brownout, in that order), the crocodiles of Agusan Marsh. Although Bunawan Mayor Edwin Elorde remains defiant as to some of his critics' call to return the crocodile back into the wild. The mayor, however, wanted to keep the beast, and even considered it his "son" now. But his response was probably in keeping with the threat the residents felt before Lolong's capture, and the precedence that at least more than 5 people had already been a victim of crocodile attacks.               

But in hindsight, the capture of Lolong somehow invigorated the people of Caraga. Two years ago, when Rowena Romana, a resident of San Marcos in Agusan Marsh, was allegedly beheaded by a “white”, Moby Dick-like crocodile, people were actually scared shitless, like death was just hiding underneath the marsh, calculating it's next victim. For a time, and especially a day after Rowena’s death, the floating village of San Marcos looked more like a ghost town, quiet as in a funeral, and abandoned by its wide-eyed residents. They returned weeks after that, but their lives were never the same again every time memories of Rowena would resurface on the very waters that they are now living. But with the capture of Lolong, all those years of living between the ghost and the darkness somehow vanished. At least they could now breathe a little after being scared for quite some time.

Some of the town folks even had a sense of joviality in their disposition when news of Lolong’s capture went on air, and somehow made a joke about it, hinting most of the time the allusion of these crocodiles in relation to those traffic enforcers. Spirits were high, at least a portion of the province, and those who live in close proximity of the marsh wore proud faces, and at times eagerly getting a picture or two of Lolong for posterity and for Facebook purposes. Certainly, Lolong’s capture was a step further in terms of initially preserving those lives, human or otherwise, living in the marsh, and of managing these sporadic attacks brought about by its resident crocodiles. And every now and then we may see Lolong’s tears, those deceptively lonely tears wetting on his bulging eyes, crying over some spilled legs perhaps or the thought of being detained for all to see, but these same tears also illustrate a kind of stance in relation to its alleged illegal custody.

It would be quite risky to return Lolong to its original habitat, but that’s supposed to be where Lolong should. To cage a creature, whether a bird, a monkey, or even a tuko has that slight fixation with cruelty somehow, perhaps a slow capitulation. Lolong’s world right now is so basic, unlike before when all it has to do is simply wander among those muddy waters, bask all day in the sun, without the ogling eyes of that civilization. Although it would be quite spurious to accuse this same civilization for Lolong’s attack a couple of months ago because at the end of the day, the environmental concerns of our civilization has enabled Lolong to wander out of its comfort zone. The marsh, it's hometown, is now feeling the effects of a civilization oblivious of his needs.

Despite its large area and its rich deposits of natural resources, the Agusan Marsh remains untapped over the years, and is still basking almost half of the region like a looming white elephant. Residents living near and on its waters are so backward that they seemed so remote at times they have to settle only with a single pump boat ride to the nearest poblacion in Bunawan. San Marcos, for instance, a fragmented village along Lake Mihaba, more or less a 45 minute baruto ride to the Bunawan bridge, where most of the houses are floating, was literally gloomy even on a day since most of its houses do not have an electricity. So there was not much life, not much activity, so to speak, to extract from there, which was probably the reason why Lolong went out of the way, scouring for some richer and 'greener" life somewhere.

Lolong can go back to its roots, but only when the local government of Bunawan has the guts and the eventual assurance to free the teary-eyed beast back to its natural ways without the dangers of some attacks. Chances are that would probably take a lifetime before it would gain an approval. But Lolong created a spectacle in the province unlike anything other than its spasmodic hostages and rebel attacks circulating within its vicinity. For one, the town has benefited from its presence, where literally not a day passes without a curious visitor getting a glimpse of its hard skin. Somehow its tourism department is relevant again. And secondly, Agusan, at least for a couple of weeks, scored big as far as taking care of its promise of capturing the beast is concerned, and ultimately save the residents from further harm and horror.

Maybe it was just Lolong’s way of crying for help, not the usual crocodile tears we always associate it with. Although Lolong’s hunger was construed as an attack, it’s coming out into the open an invasion and its purported hiding a deliberate undermining of its hunt. And these same qualities also made Lolong a household name even for a time, in as much as some of our cries have been construed as an attack, an invasion and an attempt to undermine the issues attacking in our midst. Ironically though, these same cries are eventually captured, detained and even poked fun about, pretty much like Lolong’s.