We drove through a long road. Some parts had arching trees, some had upright ones, some had none, but most of the path made us feel protected.
We were behind a tricycle carrying slender tree trunks (bamboo shoots, perhaps?) on top of its canopy. Behind us was another tricycle. As the one ahead turned right to a path going to another barangay, the other followed. We continued forward.
At a crossroads after a 10-minute drive from the town, we turned left, and the road rose to an open gate that led us to a silent monastery on top of a hill in between the mountains in Castillejos, Zambales.