Bacolod City—land of MassKara Festival, Inasal, and… outdoor yoga? So here’s how the story goes: my husband and I were in a pickle because Daily Prana scheduled a Saturday Outdoor Yoga. Sure, it sounds fun in theory. But people, have you met ants and flies? They’re not on my guest list for morning Zen sessions, okay? We usually travel to Bacolod for yoga on Saturdays, but let’s be real: Daily Prana’s outdoor yoga at 7 AM is not for us nocturnal creatures. Master G’s sessions are hard enough; I don’t need ants adding to my challenge. So, we decided to switch gears and aim for Friday’s 6 PM session. One message to Jen, the ever-so-efficient receptionist, and we were good to go.

I really don’t want to be on the road when it’s already dark so I was hoping we could stay overnight after the 6PM yoga. But it was MassKara week, and staying overnight at Bacolod would be like finding a needle in a haystack. Well, Kristine Kho, owner of Khokoon Inn did her magic, and BOOM! We were booked.

Plot Twist!

Friday morning while I was packing for our overnight stay, I get a text. It’s from Jen. It was to inform us that there was no confirmed students for the 6PM session on Friday, one that we scheduled to be on. Master G and Daily Prana are pretty much the Iron Men of the yoga world—they don’t cancel classes. They’re like the postal service of inner peace—rain or shine, they deliver. But Ralph and I weren’t about to play the lone wolves of yoga! Just us and Master G? Are you kidding me?!

Having already booked at Khokoon Inn, we had no choice but to stick with our Bacolod plan and join the Saturday outdoor yoga. And hey, might as well make the most out of it, right? Ralph and I decided we will go to Mambukal Mountain Resort after the outdoor yoga and maybe get a massage at Spa Natura. Oh, and did I mention that Kristine worked her inn-owning magic to extend our stay for two nights during MassKara highlights week? I mean, who needs a fairy godmother when you have a cousin like that?

The Actual Journey

We embarked on our quest around 3 p.m., thanks to the love affair between cars and traffic on the Hinigaran-Bacolod highway. Khokoon Inn welcomed us with open arms, and there were Kristine and Brendan being the loveliest hosts ever.

After settling in, my hubby Ralph and I dined at Green Label. Note: I craved their Veggie Ham and Cheese, not him, and he’s the vegetarian!

A Festival of Sights, Sounds, and Reunion?

Post-dinner, Ralph and I decided to take our well-fed selves to the throbbing heart of MassKara festivities on Lacson Street. And let me tell you, the crowd was overwhelming! It was like a colorful anthill that had just been poked by the stick of festivity. People from all walks of life converged—tourists snapping every moment for the ‘gram, locals enjoying their city’s proudest tradition, and even vendors trying to make a buck or two from the festivities.

While I was people-watching and generally absorbing the festival vibes, guess who I bumped into? Mahalia Sueno, my childhood classmate. Talk about small worlds and big festivals, right? There she was, looking pretty much the same but with an adult-ish glow.

We caught up briefly, exchanged a quick update on life. It’s amazing how you can not see someone for years and then, in the middle of a crowded festival, find familiarity. It’s like finding a piece of home amid the whirlwind of colors, sounds, and smells that define the MassKara Festival.

An Olfactory Overload and Fears of a Stampede

As we wove through the sea of people, I found myself silently praying for two things: one, that there wouldn’t be a stampede because, you know, survival instincts. And two, that my nose would somehow adapt to the wildly varying scents assaulting it. I’m talking about a dizzying cocktail of smells—high-end perfumes mingling freely with, well, let’s just say less glamorous body odors. It was olfactory yoga, and my nose was not prepared for this level of flexibility.

We aren’t much a fan of live music and big crowds, but we found ourselves around the Seda Hotel area where a concert was in full swing. Filipino bands were taking the stage, and although I couldn’t name them to save my life, I recognized the songs. Our friend and fellow yogi, Joanne Alagao was part of the event staff and I could have easily asked her to sneak us to the front row. But with the crowd getting rowdier and the rain starting to pour, we decided our Starbucks coffee was the VIP pass we needed. It was a whole mood, jamming to familiar tunes while sipping our lattes away from the chaos.

The Yoga Plot Twist We Didn’t See Coming

Now, you might think, given that we weren’t able to do the session on Friday, we would be heading for that Saturday outdoor yoga session like moths to a flame—or, in this case, like yogis to a mat. But no, we made an executive decision that very morning: we wouldn’t do the outdoor yoga. And let me tell you, it wasn’t a matter of “Oh, we forgot to set the alarm.” Ralph just didn’t want to roll out of bed before the sun could even put its pants on. Plus, we had to play musical rooms at Khokoon Inn for our second night.

So, as the early morning sun started to do its thing, and as Daily Prana yogis prepared their chakras and yoga mats for a public display of flexibility, Ralph and I did the bravest thing you could do: we chose sleep. That’s right, we opted for the horizontal life-pose under the sheets, aligning our chakras with, um, our dreams. I know, we’re practically yogic rebels.

Mambukal & The Spa That Wasn’t

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Around 8:30 on that Saturday, we drove to Mambukal with Manang Goyie, a resilient cancer survivor who’s as vibrant as Bacolod’s festival colors. We thought we’d be escaping the festival crowd. Nah-uh! Mambukal was packed. Even the gods of Spa Natura were too busy for us mere mortals. How could this be?

Night Two: The Lost Connection

Back at Lacson Street on Saturday evening. More MassKara madness. Ralph and I had dinner, admired the local bands, and played an unintentional game of “Where’s Waldo?” with Tita Tess. Thanks to network signals shutting down for the highlights, we were flying blind. It was basically a scavenger hunt without a prize.

The Homeward Stretch

Finally, Sunday morning rolled around and we drove back to Hinigaran, where our pets acted like we’d been gone for seven years. And as for that elusive massage? We got it at home, from our personal massage therapist. Who says you can’t find bliss in your backyard?

So, there you have it: an unplanned, jam-packed, couldn’t-make-this-stuff-up-if-I-tried 2-day Bacolod saga. And you know what? I wouldn’t change a thing.

Till next time, Bacolod. Keep on smiling!