We had an extra day in Northern Mindanao, and our photographer George Tapan pulled a few strings to get us an escort into Marawi City and Lanao Lake.
Marawi City was no trouble to get into - this homeland of the Maranao people would only take an hour by car to reach from Iligan. Less certain was our entry into the hinterlands on the shores of Lake Lanao; this was still disputed territory, as far as the Philippine government and the separatist Moro Islamic Liberation Front (MILF, don't laugh) was concerned.
We went in to see the governor's wife - George Tapan had previously shot her family portrait - and explained we wanted to go to Lake Lanao; there were a couple of picturesque mosques on the lake's shores, and their shots would make a great addition to the project we were working on.
She seemed nonplussed. We were making this request at a very inopportune time, she explained, there was a festival going on and resources were stretched thin. Still, she'd see what she could do.
The rest of the story - and more pictures - after the jump.
After about ten minutes' waiting, we found that she'd gotten us some escorts. We were expecting a minor government functionary who would tell the military checkpoints that we were friends.
Instead, we got five heavily-armed, fully-fatigued SWAT troops. A reminder to us that, to steal a turn of phrase from Tolkien, "one does not simply walk into Lanao Lake."
There was just enough room in our van for the five extra passengers, but George was worried. With five heavily-armed soldiers in our van, we would be more conspicuous for any forces out there wishing to do us harm. Secessionist rebels in the area have even kidnapped teachers, Muslim ones at that; we would not be spared.
Lanao lake was another 40-minute drive away from Marawi City, a jaunt through woods and farmlands... and untold numbers of military checkpoints. These barriers are a reality that drivers in Northern Mindanao have to deal with, a reminder that tension still grips this part of the Philippines.
The mosques, when we finally beheld them, were beautiful; we spent the most time at the second mosque (no names for them, apparently, when I asked it was just the "Bacolod Mosque", not very helpful).
One interesting legend came with it - apparently the Imam who designed it, a wise man named Musaddiq, found its design in a dream. The Imam I talked to quoted an American who said that "it's amazing how a man who can't count without using his fingers could design something so beautiful!" And it is - a glistening blue-and-cream jewel on the shores of Lanao Lake.
Worshippers use the lake shore to do their traditional ablutions before prayer - Muslims are required to use running water for this ritual, and apparently Lanao Lake counts as running water.
The lake before us - the second-biggest in the Philippines - looked inviting in the midday sun. I tried to iimagine what a pleasure cruise on this body of water would be like, and I asked our weathered local expert Pat what the other side of the lake was like?
"You wouldn't want to go there," he replied. "The other side is still swarming with rebels. You approach them in a strange boat, and you can be sure you'll get fired at."
He pointed to two islands in the lake. "You see that? The rebels have lookouts posted all around. You try approaching those in a boat, and the snipers there will be betting cigarettes to see who could pick you off first. Life is cheap around here."
The Imam who joined us at the site kindly allowed us to ascend to the roofdeck of the mosque, where a panoramic view of the mosque awaited us. I asked one of our escorts to take a picture - you can see how respectful I try to pose in the portrait, not wanting to look triumphant or boisterous, and eager to go downstairs in case some rebel sees the infidel on the rooftop and tries to get a bead on my head.