The World According to Bing

Sadly, this will be my last entry on this blog on this adventure. My next one will be a wrap up entry done in my flat back in Canada and should also include trying to place pictures into this blog to try and jog my memory when the words of my notes start to become too distant.

Tonight is Thursday night and I find myself in Baguio, the capital city of the mountain province in northern Luzon. I arrived in the mountains very early Tuesday morning after a flight out of El Nido and then an overnight bus ride from Manila. The end of this 16 hour voyage found me in Sagada, a town not unlike El Nido in its mentality and its ability to warm the soul and to ease the mind. It was however quite cool and the temperatures changed from the high 20s of El Nido to a seasonal canadian fall of the mid teens. The sun was still however brilliant.

Sagada is set in the middle of the northern cordillera and part of what makes it amazing is the road to Sagada. It is a twisty predominantly dirt road that is built into the sides of the hills. The Lonely Planet describes the drive as both terrifying and exhilarating as the road at times is just an arm's length wider than the width of a bus showing either the skill of the foolhardiness of the conductor depending on your point of view. Regardless, the views are brilliant and often you are above clouds and the peaks of the lower hills. It is however quite a view when you look out your window and see not the road but the valley below you due to the roads being really that narrow.
Sagada itself is wonderful. Quiet and very relaxing. The interesting thing about Sagada is that is predominantly Anglican and Catholics make up less than 2% of the population. The town is also steeped in mysticism and animalism. They are deeply devoted to their religious beliefs and practices. I found their burial practices the most interesting with different areas given to people that have died from different causes. Their dead are also not buried into the ground but either into burial caves or into the sides of cliffs surrounding the "road of the dead", giving rise to one of Sagada's main tourist attractions the "hanging" coffins. However I am traveling with one Englishman (who looks and reminds me quite a bit of Ian Wright from the Lonely Planet shows) who refuses to call them hanging as there are none that are actually suspended from cables and therefore hanging. They are according to him more like put-in-the-side-of-a-rock coffins.
Sagada also has a series of caves that you can explore. One particular cave, you can explore descending down into sandstone that water is constantly flowing over (amazing how much grip bare feet can have). Going deeper into the cave you see countless mineral formations with the best being a pool of water at the base of the cave that although quite cool was not cool enough to prevent a swim by Englishman and Canadian. There is apparently a hole that you can swim through leading to a grotto but being the rainy season the water level was quite high and impossible to get light into the grotto so we didn't try...maybe next time.
Sagada is also home to a weaving industry that produces some wonderful works of handicraft. It is also seems to be home to some of the cutest kids in the country...definitely the most curious and the most friendly.

So now I find myself in Baguio in the middle of monsoon type rain. It's been raining heavily now for about 3 hours with no end in sight. It has apparently been raining non stop in Manila 5 hours to the south of us and there has been a bit of flooding in the city. This storm is supposed to spread through most of the country for the next day or so. Thankfully my trip to the islands is done and I was able to miss the rains.
Tomorrow I must take a pilgrimage of sorts. I'm taking a morning trip to Urdaneta. To the town where I lived before I came to Manila. To my first house. To my first school. To the place where my grandfather is buried. I don't know anyone in this town anymore, not really. Unlike my family in Manila, everyone here is all distant and I don't really feel the need to say hi. And like my feeling when I was flying to Manila all those weeks ago, I am once again hesitant and uncertain as to how I will feel. I haven't been to this town in well over 20 years and I wasn't here when my grandfather passed away. It will be my first visit to him in 20 years.

A bus trip to Manila will follow and then one more flight but this flight, like a flight 32 years ago will bring me to Canada. I hope that the weather will cooperate this weekend and I am able to visit Rizal Park, or Luneta as I've always known it. I am, I suppose retracing steps that I took 32 years ago.

I'm still not sure what I'm feeling about everything that I've seen and experienced on this trip. I just know that this time, this country, feels different. But it also feels like home.

Speaking of home, did I bring any pants, or shoes or warm clothing with me?????

I should've flown WestJet into Toronto.....

It's Sunday November11th and although it's just a Sunday in the Philippines, it is Remembrance Day in Canada. A time when we are to remember and reflect and honor those that have sacrificed so much so that we can live the lives that we live today. I'm staying in the town of El Nido in northern Palawan Island. There is a cemetery here of war dead. Americans, various Allied soldiers, Filipinos and Japanese populate the grounds. All here as a sacrifice to a life they all believed was the correct way to live and were willing to die for it. In a microcosm it is reminiscent of every immigrant story. Families willing to forego all history, all family all things familiar in order to allow their children better opportunities, better options, and hopefully better lives.
I am one of those stories and my parents were willing to abandon all they knew to allow me to grow up and live in Canada. Because of them, I am free to complain about how cold it is in the winter, and how humid the summers are, and how the Leaf management will never allow for a team that will win the Stanley Cup. It also has allowed me the freedom to have opinions about the government and have the choice to live a life that I want to live in the manner that I chose and with the people that I chose to be with. It has also allowed me to come to Palawan.

I have been fortunate enough to visit many places and this place, El Nido to me is paradise. It is a small town in northern Palawan that is surrounded on three sides by limestone cliffs. The fourth side is the sea and beyond it's shores is the Bacuit archipelago, beyond that, is China. The archipelago are a series of islands that one travel guide states is "a place where nature has been allowed to run amuck". There are about 50 islands making up this archipelago each one containing it's own secrets. Each beach as beautiful as any in the world and corral as rich and abundant as any.

Getting to El Nido is an adventure on it's own. Puerto Princessa is the capital of Palawan and the gateway to the rest of the island. It is a town larger than I would have thought for this island, but a town non the less. There are series of island 20 mins in Honda Bay that is a smaller version of the Bacuit archipelago. The jewel in this area is a town a 2-4 hour (because of the mud in the roads) drive north of Puerto to a town called Sabang. There you board a 20 min pump boat ride in what were very wavy (awesome surfing) seas to another island where you find the Subterranean river. A river system of fresh water contained underneath this mountainous island that snake through 8 kms of stalactite and stalagmite filled caverns. Currently you're only allowed to paddle with guide the first 2 kms as the entire length would take 4hours. Torches are necessary as there is no ambient light within the caverns. It is home to 70000 bats and numerous "harmless" water snakes. We saw the bats, not the snakes. Being inside was nothing I could really describe well.. Turning off the torches you are surrounded by total darkness, even after your eyes have adjusted. The air is thick and humid and the cave not only felt damp, it smelled damp. The river was so still and calm it almost felt like you were rolling on a smooth road rather than paddling on a river. With the torches on, you see rock formations that are so undulating you almost expect them to be made of ice cream rather than mineral deposits. Once through the cave instead of taking the south china sea challenge again there is a 1 hour walk you can take through a jungle that is the home to countless howler monkeys, monitor lizards and endless mosquitos.

Travelling to El Nido I took the easy route. A 45 minute flight from Puerto. There is a bus that you can take that runs about 9 hours or so. But it does include a 2 km "stroll" through thigh deep mud as the buses can't quite pass through during the wet season. So you get to be lucky enough to take the walk in order to meet a bus on the other side to take you the rest of the way. I decided I didn't need the character building and took the 19 seater turbo prop instead.

El Nido is a wonderful little sea town, but the archipelago is beyond real my imagination. Put simply it is like diving in a perfect marine aquarium that is stocked with all the marine life you can imagine, and some you can't. All told, I have done about 6 dives and snorkeled over 20 times and have yet to find a site where I was ambivalent. There are caverns, hidden lagoons, amazing reefs, hundreds of colours, textures, sounds etc. It was and I'm sure still is a festival for all your senses. I had the chance to swim with dolphins in one cove that seemed to teem with them. In another island we were able to see small reef sharks patrolling before coming to my greatest wonder, a small whale shark that was only about 10 meters. Such gentleness in the sea despite is size. I couldn't resist and remembering a story that a travel mate had told me with his experience with a whale shark, I followed suit and had to touch it. A light touch near it's tail fin was enough to turn the shark around to see what it had brushed up against. After one circle to inspect, it had decided that I was nothing to fear and went about it's business. I took a bit longer to come around. I knew that they were harmless but there was that bit where I thought...well after all it is a shark.

I've been in El Nido for 5 days now and have 2 more days before heading to the northern Philippines. I will find it hard to leave this place that I have madly fallen for, but I reckon it isn't going anywhere and I can always come back. I just hope that the town doesn't change too much.

There is a sign in this cafe regarding wildlife that states that paradise is their home and we are merely visiting. I have truly enjoyed this visit and my host's unassuming hospitality.

Today is November 11th...and I remember.

I'm back in Cebu for the night in order to catch an early morning flight to the island of Palawan. It is somewhere that I've been anxiously waiting to get to. It is one of the principal reasons for this trip.

I've also said goodbye to 4 people that have become my traveling partners and companions the last 3 days. One is an older gentleman from Australia, another an older gentleman from the Basque region of Spain and two are Austrian college students currently on exchange in Singapore and taking a quick detour into the Philippines. Between the 4 of us there is a wide age gap. We span 3 continents and 3 different stages of our professional careers and life stages. And yet fate, a commonality of interest and life have resulted in the 4 of us meeting in a tiny dive town. And we are able to talk and enjoy each other as though we've known each other for years. In the real world of our daily lives, the 5 of us would have never met even if we lived in the same place. Our differing ages and social circles would have assured that. But here in this dive town we meet and become friends because of something deeper than when we were born, where we were born, our personal politics, cultural/financial/social situations. We meet because we all love to travel and to experience new experiences. We get along and become friends because deep down our composition is the same. There is no talk of status, or of possessions or of acquisition. Here we are all equals. Here our successes are measured by the type of marine life and travel stories we are able to share with each other. Here our "stock tips" revolve around places Lonely Planet doesn't tell you about.
This is truly one of the principal reasons that I love to travel. There will always be beautiful places. There will always be beautiful sunsets and animals and food and drink to experience. Interacting with and meeting people such as the ones that I met on Alona Beach helps to remind me that I am really not alone and there are those that think and feel the way that I do, and that see the world the way that I do. It is a warming, pleasing, fulfilling thought.

Alona has also taught me another reality. We befriended a local bar manager. She is from Manila but has migrated to Alona. Her bar/restaurant is in the middle of the waterfront strip on the short main road along the beach. She tells me that in Alona beach a person working an office type job will earn an average of 6000 Pesos a month. Those waiting tables or in the direct service positions will earn on average 1500 Pesos a month. Converted into Canadian dollars that equals approximately, $139 and $35 a month respectively. Put another way, that's roughly 5 and 1 dollar a day respectively. I can't even put those numbers to bear. I was also told that the wages are higher in the cities because of the cost of living but I really can't understand these numbers. And yet, there isn't a complaint to be heard. There is no talk of how unfair life is or how much they don't have. They just live, living with joy and happiness. Family is still paramount and living life is still what is important.

I am quite humbled by all of this. I live a life that is of excess where anything and everything is attainable should I desire it. There is nothing I can't acquire, no where I can't go. This is true for many where I am from ... and yet many are unfulfilled, unhappy, unsatisfied.

We will spend $35 going to see a movie or a quiet evening's drink at a local pub - and we are unhappy.
That $35 must allow them to pay for accommodations, clothing, food and whatever else that life may require. I am certain that going to see a movie or having a quiet evening's drink at a local pub are not high or even on their list - and they are happy.

I am humbled and I am ashamed...but I am learning.

While waiting for a boat to cross the straight separating Cebu and the island of Negros, it started to rain. Not the drizzly pleasant kind of rain but the I really hope someone built an ark kind of rain. The weirdness of it was that the sun was shining in it's full glory. Across the the 18km gap of the strait, Negros would appear and re-appear hidden by the offending cloud.
The boat was scheduled to leave Bato for Tampi at 3pm. It was now 3:20 and there wasn't a boat to be seen. There were 50 people waiting for this boat so I reckoned that was a good sign. There were however 4 men in camouflage khakis, black t-shirts and shoulder slung rifles with requisite high powered scope. They were members of the SWAT team although I'm still not sure as to their purpose in this town of about 200. They weren't getting on the boat they were just guarding (?) the dock.
Not too long after, two more men appeared cock in hand (the rooster, get your minds out of there) and were having an animated conversation. The birds were placed on the ground attached to a driven stake separated by about 5 meters. I'm not sure if it was a puzzled look on my face, or perhaps it was disgust, either way, one of the SWAT team told me that the one on the right was the current regional champion. He was apparently tenacious, unrelenting and fearless. He was a finely tuned animal that had been trained since birth to be a champion. The other was the protege. Still quite young, full of potential but still with much to learn. The owner put the two closer together and "allowed" them to spar for a bit. I'd never really seen a cock fight let alone been met a regional champion. I don't know much about and found it rather disturbing. Feather's beating, legs kicking, wings flapping and a whole lot of crowing. The two were separated to prevent any injuries and I was told there was to be a match the following evening if I was interested. I told him I couldn't because I was boarding the 3pm ferry to Negros. It was 3:45. By 4pm the ferry arrived and by 4:30 we were on our way for the 20 minute crossing. The ferry was "right on time..."

Not too long after I was in the port city of Dumaguete, the capital of Negros. I fell in love with this city. Quaint, quiet with a lovely waterfront promenade that ran for about 1km. The people were really friendly and there was a large preponderance of "foreigners". I'm still unsure as to why but a large number of Americans, Australians and the like have moved and settled into and around Dumaguete. I met Tyrone a transplanted San Franciscan roller blading around Rizal plaza in the center of town. It was the only place he could find where he could rollerblade in the city. A total juxtaposition, a black American roller blading in a colonial town square build the same time as the formidable church attached to the square in the 1800s. The square was renamed in honor of country folk hero Jose Rizal. Tyrone came to visit and decided to stay so here he was, roller blading in Rizal Plaza.

This week marked a week that contained 2 national holidays. An election and the All Saints Day festival. Because of it banks were not open and neither were travel agencies. So travel plans were a little harder to coordinate resulting in another boat ride from the island of Negros to the island of Bohol. The two day stay in Bohol became a wonderful 4 day stay. One day spent driving about the island of Bohol taking in an enigmatic emblem of the county - the Chocolate Hills. Limestone cliffs resulting from what was once corral reefs before the ocean receded and now are over 1000 cone shaped mounds spanning central Bohol. Because it is the end of the monsoon season, the vegetation was lush and very green. The hills as a result were not very chocolate looking - usually resulting from a lack of water in the dry season. Perhaps this time I should refer to them as the mint hills. Either way they were impressive but not requiring a trip back. I was however introduced to Tarsiers. An indigenous animal looking like a koala bear, with humongous red eyes disturbingly (yet quite cute) disproportional to it's body, the body being barely 8 inches long. Walking through the Tarsier Preserve, Ronlando pointed out 10 or so of the approximately 50 that lived in this preserve. There is an area of the preserve that housed the younger animals but the population isn't allowed to visit. There is also a "petting zoo" type facility not affiliated with the preserve to also view Tarsiers. While quite timid and not welcoming human touch in the wild, as in the preserve, these have been raised in "captivity" and accustomed to human touch, hence the petting zoo. I declined to visit them in this environment preferring to see them in their more natural environment.

It was driving around Bohol that I became introduced to Jesus and David, two newly acquainted traveling partners exploring Bohol by motor bike. We met at the Tarsier preserve and as the afternoon progressed we kept running into each other all through Bohol. Travel challenges resulted in my deciding to stay in Bohol until Monday when I was able to secure a flight to Palawan. I wanted to leave the town so I proceeded to a dive resort town called Alona Beach. Typically it was where Jesus and David were staying and we've been enjoying the diving, snorkeling, dolphin watching and San Miguelling together.

Interesting this dive town. It is very much a tourist town. In speaking to the people that live and work here, it was once a quiet beach area but an infusion of foreign capital has resulted in numerous restaurants, bars and various levels of accomodation in this very small area. The population survives on diving, and other than those that work here, the majority of the people in town are either German, Korean or Japanese ... here to take in the sites. I got to snorkel at one of these sites today and there was a beautiful reef teeming with hundreds of fish of all species, beautiful corral, sea turtles, sea slugs and an entire myriad of marine magic. There was also a lot of corral bleaching which was bothersome, but not as troublesome as something else. Many of the people who come here want to see the corral but don't care or know much about the ecosystem. The locals trying to earn a living, take the tourists to wonderful snorkeling sites, provide them with life jackets so as to allay their drowning in the open sea fears and tell them to snorkel. Problem is the water is roughly 3 meters deep and some of the corral comes to within a meter of the surface. In droves they jump off the boats wearing shoes so as not to cut their feet on the corral. Within a matter of 3 minutes of watching, I can't begin to count how many pairs of feet had struck corral or stepped over plants ... it was such a disturbing sight. The group would get their fill board the boat and go to the next destination only to be replaced by the next set of observers.

This is how the locals earn a living and how they survive. I hope the corral survives.

I was taught when I began diving to take things slow and relax and enjoy and let the nature come to you. The observers here aren't willing to let nature come to them, they must have nature on demand. Chunks of bread are thrown into the water to lure the fish close to them so they can see.
If only they would just float still and breathe over the corral ... they would see the fish come anyway, and the fish would swim beside them, in front of them. Countless times fish came up and stared at me through my mask coming to eye leve l... they would that is until the observers saw the school around me and made a bee line to see how great the fish were that would no longer be there when they reached me.

But this is how the locals make a living here and this is how they provide for themselves.

This quote by English poet PJ Bailey was posted at a dive resort that I was staying at. The same guide goes on to say that if you don't believe in god, then all you need do is dive one of the sites in the Philippines. Seeing the world and the beauty under the waves should be enough to make anyone question how such beauty could come to be.

My first dive in 3 years was interesting. As all new or newly returning divers do (as said my dive master) I was so focused on breathing that I forgot how to hover and not use my arms for propulsion and to stop trying to go so fast and just enjoy the view. This lasted for the first 20 minutes of my 45 minute refresher dive at 15M before I started to settle down and remember. Oddly enough my moment of clarity came when I had to try and remember how to clear my mask underwater. It was almost automatic becuase I was too busy watching beautiful blue angel fish that I did it without realizing and I was again able to just dive. This was followed by spotting a meter long sea turtle that the resort named Janet. We followed her for a few minutes and I was loving every moment of her company. Until that is when I realized that the reef I was following had a drop off, and the 10 meters below me dropped off to an unperceivable depth, although it looked deep and dark. Later I was told the drop off drops to about 500 meters. Regardless, this caused a bit of anxiety and I forgot how to dive again and did some interesting things until my dive master was able to have me look him in the eye and calm me down and then I was back to looking at the angel fish. And as if on cue Janet came swimming by between he and I as if to say, you're all good man...but can ya do this? Two rolls and a dive later, Janet was gone. But before that we were allowed to swim beside her and I was able to rub her shell and even one of her front fins before she put me in my place in the marine world.

The next dive the next day was even better. All my "fears" were gone and I was able to just dive again. We swam along corral and hugged the reef for about 40 minutes, this time at a depth of 29 meters. I was even shown a beautiful snake that we watched for a while which I later learned was a sea snake and is apparently more poisonous than a cobra but not in the least bit aggressive unless serverely threatened. Like the buses in the Philippines, better not to know certain things.

After 25 minutes of diving and feeling quite self assured we ran into a sight that made me stop and gave me a bit of a cold feeling. On the reef about 25 meters down was a planted cross. I was told later that it was because a diver had been killed there. He had gone spear fishing on his own and never returned.

...art is man's nature, nature is God's art...

Philip James Bailey