The best connections don’t need Wi-fi
Iused to worry about my son. His eyes were always glued to his phone or laptop. He’d zone out, ignoring conversations and missing the world right before him. It felt like an invisible wall between us, built of pixels and notifications. When Abba’s Orchard School announced the father-and-child camping activity, it seemed like the perfect opportunity for us. The event that happens once every five years promises a chance to deepen our bonds far from the distractions of gadgets and technology.
Over 500 of us, fathers and children from all corners of the country, descended on the school’s Davao City Campus with that hope in our hearts. Nature, however, refused to cooperate, throwing us a challenge we hadn’t anticipated.
The first day’s merciless downpour challenged our spirits, saturating our tents and testing our enthusiasm. But as we were forced to stay close together, away from the relentless ping of notifications and the glow of screens, something unexpected happened. Despite the chill and the dampness seeping into the tent, we huddled close. Stories flowed, laughter filled the air, and the shared experience of those soggy moments forged bonds stronger than any Wi-fi signal between me and my son.
This enforced digital detox drove home the importance of disconnecting to truly connect. The rain, an unwelcome guest at first, became the catalyst for a deeper understanding of those we loved the most. It served as a reminder that even amid challenges, the most extraordinary adventures are found in the company of those closest to us.
The next day, we emerged, ready to embrace whatever lay ahead. My son and I were among the few brave (or foolish?) enough to sign up for a three-hour hike, tackling slippery slopes, rocky obstacles, and the occasional river crossing. Thankfully, we had company – Johanna Marie Arañas of Abba’s Blueridge campus in Quezon City (the youngest hiker that season) and her dad, Mateo Ramos from the Santa Rosa campus, and his father were ready for the adventure. Only six of us, plus a guide, out of hundreds of attendees, chose to trek that day.
After the previous night’s heavy downpour, the usually easy threehour trail became a slippery, challenging trek. The trail was difficult, but every shared stumble, every helping hand, and every tired chuckle drew us closer together. Johanna, a tiny force of nature, navigated the terrain with surprising ease – never slipping, never falling. A beacon of resilience in unexpected form.
Her example was even more potent when contrasted with our struggles. Her quiet focus and appreciation of the small joys around her – a wildflower, a startled bird – highlighted what we missed when tied to screens and schedules. Her unwavering spirit was a humbling and inspiring reminder of what true strength can look like.
While the trek guide was right about the treacherous conditions, Johanna, the smallest among us, emerged triumphant. As we reached the end, the pride on her father’s face solidified what the entire camping trip had taught us: sometimes, to truly connect, we need to disconnect.
The memories we built that weekend, forged in mud and laughter, are far more valuable than any digital update. In a world where screens and notifications compete persistently for our attention, it's crucial to remember the power of disconnecting. Whether it's a planned digital detox or simply embracing unexpected moments forced upon us by nature, these are the times when authentic connections are made. The next time a rainy day cancels plans or a free weekend looms, consider it an opportunity. Put down the devices, engage with the people around you, and discover the extraordinary adventures that await in the simple act of being fully present.
(Art Samaniego, Jr. is the head of Manila Bulletin IT Department and is the Senior Technology Editor.)