The Philippines Revisited

One Country Down...


We survived the first country of our trip and had an absolute blast. For me this was the perfect way to ease our way into the trip of a lifetime. We were able to meet a lot of amazing people and we were able to be there as one of my best friends was married to a beautiful and amazing woman. There are many great stories and memories from this part of the trip. Some that were shared for everyone to read and others that will just hide inside my head and keep me laughing and smiling every single day.

As far as the Philippines, I highly recommend that anyone goes there to see the country. I personally was not too keen on Manila itself but once outside the city everyone was amazing the places were beautiful and the memories lasting. Keep in mind that the Philippines is not like Thailand and the infrastructure for travel for tourists is not nearly as good but if you know that going in you will be fine.

I definitely will go back to the Philippines to swim with the whale sharks, do some diving, check out the Chocolate Hills of Bohol, check out the surf spot of Cloud 9 and whatever else I can find. Again I want to thank everyone that we met in the Philippines as all of you made it special and exciting and I would do it all again tomorrow.

Next up is Bangkok!

Brian
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Philippines in a Nutshell

Song for this post:

In the Middle by Jimmy Eat World

            When you arrive in Southeast Asia – at least for myself – one of the first things that strikes you is the glaring distinction between the “haves” and the “have nots”.  It occurred to me at some point – possibly right at the beginning of our trip in Banaue when I was showering with freezing cold water from a bucket – that my experience with Southeast Asia prior to this has been – for the most part – first class.  When I lived in Indonesia as a teenager and would travel back to Jakarta from the states or wherever we might have had occasion to go, it usually involved a stop over in Singapore where my family and I would spend a number of hours in the first class lounge and I would get wasted on the free booze.  We’d make the short flight home back to Indo where we’d zip through the diplomat line at the customs counter and our driver would be waiting for us with our big air conditioned car.  Every night before bed I would brush my teeth with the fresh bottled water that my maid would always make sure I had and every day when the driver would bring me home from school, we’d pull into the garage where our servants congregated throughout the day to find our maid, Rani, smiling and waving at me with a pair of my underwear in her hand which she was in the process of ironing.

            I’ve only been back to Southeast Asia a handful of times since moving back to the States about 17 years ago (shit!  Am I really THAT old!?!) and those times it was only to Indonesia, the most recent trip being last year when B and I went to Bali – actually, we arrived a year ago today – and each of those times it was in the usual fashion I was accustomed to, the only difference being that since I no longer drink and last year at this time I was 2 and ½ months pregnant, I was partaking of as much free food as I could in the 1^st class lounge in lieu of liquor.  Oh how times have changed yet again!!!  Aside from our little respite at The Ascott in Manila, this trip has been way more along the lines of the have-nots than I’ve ever known before.  Between the harrowing night buses and vomit-inducing van rides, the pooping in the woods, and having to make sure that Brian remembers to get water for us to brush our teeth at night, I’ve started to see a side of Southeast Asia that I have never quite known before.

            Dear reader, I don’t mention any of this in hopes of garnering any pity from you or to parlay this into some sort of soapbox rant about the atrocities of 3^rd world living, quite the contrary.  It is rather my hope to express what a deep-seeded admiration and affection I have for this part of the world, its people, and its often-misconceived charm.  So, back to the “haves” and “have-nots”…

            Dear reader, it is my recommendation that should you ever choose to travel to this nape of the neck, you will so plan your trip as to arrive here at night.  If you’re coming from the States and traveling for at least 20 hours – if not more – it is too much to take when you first step off that plane or out of that airport and the sun and smell and chaos just bitch slap you in the face.  Should you arrive during the daylight hours I guarantee that you’ll most likely step off the plane and the first words out of your mouth or your internal monologue will be, “What the fuck have I done!?!” and your first inclination will be to run back onto the plane and curl up in the fetal position at your seat, start sucking your thumb, and pull the blanket over your head until the crappy in-flight movie (that is probably some monumental piece of shit blockbuster starring Nicholas Cage but at this point you don’t care, you’re glad for it even) starts playing and you’re on your way back to terra firma.  Save yourself the agony (of the Nicholas Cage movie more so than the long flight back) and plan your arrival for sometime after dusk.  (Round here down by the equator that’s pretty much 6p.m. across the board).

            I’m not saying any of this to freak you out and it may seem contrary to any inclination of affection that I mentioned, but really it’s to do you and Southeast Asia a big favor, lest the two of you should get off on the wrong foot.  Arriving during the day is like a slap, a tickle, a reach around and then before you know it, you’re all squealy on the Sealy before you’ve even exchanged names.  Arrive at night, have a nice long shower, get all did up, let her buy you dinner, get to know each other a bit, get in bed and talk gently and sweetly to each other, start to reveal your secrets to each other, start to build some trust, and then maybe after a little heavy petting – possibly some dry humping if you’re comfortable with that - just spoon each other and drift to sleep with satisfaction in your smile and possibility bursting your heart.  In the morning, wake up refreshed and new, fill your belly with the magnificent fruits of your new love (I meant papaya you perves!), and get to wooing your girl!!!                      

     

            Wow – that was a freakin tangent!!!  I don’t even know how to BEGIN to segue that back into what I really wanted to talk about… I guess I’ll just keep bobbing and weaving and keep you guessing…

            I guess my point is that there are two types of people who travel this way – those who look at Southeast Asia like a phone sex operator – you have no idea who or what is on the other end of the line but you hope to God it’s everything you imagine, dream of, hope for (those are usually the people who are hugely disappointed by this part of the world) and then there are those people who are like teenagers full of longing and loving angst whose hope and fantasies are still possible realities instead of improbable dreams whose potential fruition have come and gone and are now bitter, silly squanderings of the mind.   And somewhere in the middle, is me.

            There are – in this world – the “haves” and the “have-nots” and nowhere is this more palpable than in Southeast Asia.  It is not exclusive just to the Philippines, it’s everywhere, I just use this place as a jumping off point because it is where we started and where I was reminded so vividly of this distinction between what my life is now as compared to what it was a few weeks, months, years ago back home.  For – I imagine – most westerners, it would be horrifying to come here and see the conditions in which most of the people live here.  If we saw anything akin to what appears to be the most abject poverty as the majority of people live in here in the States or whatever western country we might hail from, there would be riots.  There would be protesters and angry letters to editors and congressman and bumper stickers and Bono and Jay-Z would throw a benefit concert for it in a heartbeat.  At first glance, we would be irate and unsettled and disgusted as our senses are assaulted by the sights and smells and sounds that are so uniquely Southeast Asia.

            But look closer dear reader.  This is not fantastical, lustful phone sex, nor is it impulsive, consuming love at first sight.  This is a blind date with a person you’d never in a million years think you would have anything to do with but it was just easier to go on the date and shut your friend up than keep politely insisting you’re not interested.  Be patient, let these places, tucked so far away in the world from us unfold and reveal their true beauty.

            When I was an angry, ungrateful teenager living in Indonesia who knew nothing about myself or life or where it might take me and there was nothing I loved more than indulging in my own melancholy, I remember sitting in my big, air conditioned car, being chauffeured by my driver to my fancy private school or the American Club, or The Hilton Pool, or some such place, I remember sitting at a stoplight.  I remember soak and sulking in my own teenage misery.  I remember being by a kampung (the clusters of shabby shacks that the middle class Indonesians lived in) which was located by one of the many canals that ran throughout the city.  At one point there were women washing clothes in the canal, a few yards down kids were playing it and a few yards beyond that, someone was pissing in it.  At the kampung there was a group of people – mothers, fathers, kids, grandparents, neighbors – all congregated outside someone’s shack, all talking, all laughing, all smiling the biggest, most genuine smiles.  I sat there in my big car and watched them and thought, “They look like what I’m supposed to feel like.”  My insides matched their surroundings and vice versa.  That’s what being in the Philippines was like.

            I mean that it was like that in the sense that I was reminded so strongly of that feeling, that what is the norm for them would seem dismal and unbearable to us.  But being a more mature woman I was able to see a step beyond what I recognized as a teenager and couldn’t make sense of really so it just made me more frustrated and turned off by the world around me.  What I saw was this, that these people who live in conditions and circumstances that we westerners would and do balk at and admonish, have their basic needs met.  They have clothes on their back, a roof over their head, and food in their stomachs.  Sometimes it’s a little less than that and rarely is it much more, but when all is said and done, their basic needs are met and for the rest, they make do.  No frills, not many luxuries, but they are grateful for what they have and the one thing that there seems to have always been present in abundance throughout our travels in the Philippines was pure, genuine, heartfelt joy.  They’re just fucking happy!

            So it was fitting that all of this came right up in my face, considering my mental state at the beginning of our trip.  The entire time we were in the Philippines I was questioning my happiness and what that meant and wondering what the hell we’re doing and what do I want and what do I need to fulfill that want.  The entire time I’ve been hemming and hawing over what I have and what I don’t have when all around me, right in front of my face were all these people…aaaaahhhhh fuck!  I totally lost my train of thought – oh well.

            Anyhoo – on the exciting van ride from El Nido to Puerta Princessa we started talking to the two Filipina girls that we were sharing a shoe box’s worth of space with in the trunk of the van.  One (Rawna) was a news reporter for a Filipino TV station and the other (Kath) was attending university in Australia and was just back for a visit.  We started talking about all sorts of things including our travels and Kath told us how all of her Australian mates were always asking her about the Philippines and that she really enjoyed being able to tell them about her home.  I asked her what one thing she’d like people to know about her country.  She just said that she’d like people to know that Filipinos are very happy people.  And I told her that I’d noticed that pretty much everywhere I went there was usually a Filipino walking down the road or working in a market or standing at a security check point in their guard uniform, observing people as they passed through the metal detectors and they’d be singing.  Just out of the blue, no music around anywhere and they’d be smiling and singing.  I asked the girls why Filipinos were always singing and they just smiled and laughed and said they thought it was just because they’re happy people and that back in the day – and still in some of the tinier villages – that there wasn’t a whole lot of forms of entertainment so, they sang.

            

          This part of our conversation – I would like to emphasize – preceded a discussion we’d had about the recent massacre in the southern part of the country right around Christmas.  It happened to be where the girls had grown up and Kath’s cousin was an innocent victim killed on his way to work.  Brian and I had also been kind of griping that we thought it completely unfair that Americans are very rarely afforded the opportunity to work in other countries in any sort of middle of the road capacity – you pretty much either have to be sponsored by a huge corporation, start your own business, be a teacher, or do some sort of volunteer work.  (I know, self-entitled, whiny Americans.)  Kath – in a very sweet and optimistic, look on the bright side kind of way quickly pointed out that though that may be the case, at least as Americans, we are free to go pretty much anywhere in the world we want without having to jump through lots of hoops like people of many other nationalities in the world.  I wanted to illustrate this point for you because it was all spoken so casually and lightheartedly and the girls then continued – without a single shred of malice – to talk about what happy people they and their fellow countrymen and women are.  That despite political massacres occurring in their backyard and not being easily accepted in many parts of the world, life is good and there’s always a silver lining.  Their basic needs are met, so why despair?

          

         Point is, dear reader, that – all things considered – between my experience in Indonesia and our stay in the Philippines, my ideas of “haves” and “have-nots” is being turned on it’s ass.  Up is down, black is white, have is have-not – which is really what the point of this trip has been for Brian and I anyway.  But it’s a long, painful road from here to there.  They say when one door closes, another one opens but the hallway is a bitch.  If I can explain at all what I’ve been going trough thus far on the trip, it’s that I’m in the hallway.  I don’t know if it’s because of what I’ve been through the past year or if this is indeed the road I’ve always been heading down but I’ve begun to question why it is exactly I want the things that I want.  Is it because I truly want them, or is it because I’ve been taught to want them?  And how do you know which is true?  And how do you let go of the beliefs that have been so strongly bred in you, defined you, been a part of you, when they no longer serve you and start to go against what is in you at the core?

            

           The Philippines has shown me, has reminded me that we are taught to want and with want, with desire, comes expectation and inevitable, with expectation comes disappointment and almost always ensures failure.  These people want nothing; expect nothing, and for that, they seem to have everything – everything that matters anyway.  Southeast Asia is very much like falling love – you’re either running from it or running to it.  You’re either trying to hide or be found.  You’re either trying to escape the most loathsome parts of yourself or bring forth the very best in you.  You are either consumed by ego or revel in abundant selflessness.  You are either holding on for dear life or letting go with joyful surrender.  Somewhere in the middle of all that, standing in the hallway, being pulled by each side, I’m waiting…

xoxoM

Song for going to Bagkok:

Jump Rope by Blue October

Mangroves, Monkeys and Mozzy Nets

The Sabang Gang...

It was finally time to leave Manila and it couldn’t have come soon enough. All of us were tired of the city and ready to get to the beach and unwind a bit.  There were eight of us traveling together and we started really early to catch an 8am flight. Well we were actually split between two flights as I had asked Andy which flight they were on and he told me they were on PAL not Cebu so book the PAL flight which I did and Mavis did only to find out that Andy was on Cebu. Luckily the flights landed within about 15 minutes of each in Puerto Princessa. Apparently, the flights landed so close to each other that Andy’s flight landed and they turned off the runway and he looked out the window to see our plane barreling down on the runway. Either way we all made it there in one piece and were ready for the trip to the beach. It was nice having Peewee as she was able to speak to the van drivers and hire us a private van to get to Sabang. It was about a two hour ride in the van and I think that almost everyone of us was getting a bit of motion sickness as nobody had eaten anything all day.

Once the van pulled up to Sabang we took a stroll down the beach with the water buffalo to find our accomodations for the next two nights. We got settled and had some lunch on the beach and then got some relaxing time body surfing, tanning and chatting. Sabang is a pretty sleepy town so there was no internet, no real night life but we had a great group with us so we made our own little party in town. Mitra and I had a room with 2 beds in it so we had Kate Bauman staying in our room with us and on the other side of the hut was Simon and Stefan. When we finally all headed to bed that night we could hear those two talking like school girls on a sleepover. So of course we started asking them through the walls if they were having a pillow fight, if they had on their face masks, etc…We all finally got to sleep that night with the waves crashing right outside our window but the sleep was interrupted a few times by the barking dogs, crowing cocks and for some people mosquitos biting.

The next morning was our day for “sightseeing” in Sabang. Now there is not really a lot to do in Sabang except the Mangrove tour and the Underground River Tour. So we all set out to do both of these tours that day. My personal opinion is to skip the mangrove tour as to me it was a waste of time. They paddle you through the mangrove swamp and point out birds and snakes. The two highlights were the dog Brownie that followed us all they way through the swamp and they two guides going out and looking for these edible worms that live in the branches of the mangrove trees. Simon was supposed to eat one of the worms but chickened out as again we hadn’t eaten anything yet that day. So we were on to our next adventure which was the undertaking of the underground river. We decided to hike to the river and then take the boat back to the town. The hike was about two hours long and we had the choice of two trails so we decided to take the Monkey trail. It was pretty hot and the trail had a lot of stairs and to my surprise the person doing the hike the quickest was the smallest person on the trip Peewee! We also had Simon toughing it out with his broken toe. As we arrived  at the underground river we told the guys there we needed a boat back to Sabang when we finished the tour. We got the classic answer “Yes, Yes. No problem” and donned our hard hats and life jackets and got going through the river. I got the enviable job of being the light man on my boat which meant I got this high powered spotlight to shine at all the stalagtites and stalagmites as we made our way through the river. It was definitely a cool thing to see and our guide was pretty knowledgeable giving us some fun facts along the way as well as a few mistimed belches.  Apparently he was having some digestive issues during our tour and was not shy about sharing that with us. Now that the tour was over it was time to head back to town and of course there were no boats waiting for us at the beach. A theme in the Philippines is that even if they don’t understand what you are saying they just say “Yes” like they know what’s happening. After about 30 minutes of waiting on the beach we got our two bankas to take us back to Sabang. It was about to get interesting for us all as there were about 6 foot swells so it was a pretty rough ride getting back to town but for me just another fun travel experience in the Philippines.

Simon and his broken toe

                                   Stefan and Mavis in Sabang

That night we probably had the most excitement in Sabang as we had dinner at the Daluyon resort where Mavis/Summer and Andy/Peewee were staying. I think there were ten or eleven of us at dinner and as we sat down to order dinner and everyone was getting drinks I had the bright idea to get bottles of rum instead of individual drinks for the table. This led to some fun antics later in the night involving Norweigans and their Filipina “girlfriends”. We had a great meal and after a few bottles of rum being downed at the table people started to peel away and head to bed as we had a van ride to El Nido the next morning. I was one of the people who headed to bed but the gist of what occurred is one of the Norweigans started to yell at his “girlfriend” in the middle of the restaurant and make a scene so Andy decided to say something to the guy. Andy basically told the guy not to disrespect the woman and what he was doing was rude and since he is married to a Filipina this guy is giving all men a bad name. Apparently it got pretty close to punches being thrown but that never came to fruition. Everyone survived in one piece and we made it the car the next day to head up to El Nido.

                                                               Underground River

Overall my impression of Sabang is that it’s a nice laid back town. However, the only reason to go there is to see the Underground River. You could make it in spending one night there and then move on to El Nido. If we weren’t with a big group I probably would have done one night in town. Oh and Andy I’m enjoying the ride!

Until next time…

Brian

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Sabang, Sabang, She bangs, She bangs

(Tales of the Honky Parade)

Song for this post:

I was gonna do She Bangs By Ricky Martin

but that’s too easy

I was also thinking of Even the Nights Are Better

by Air Supply cuz they love them some Air Supply in Palawan

But instead I settled for Amongst the Waves by Pearl Jam

            So Manila left me unbelievably exhausted, what with the grueling travel and the late nights, so exhausted that I broke down in tears at dinner one night.  I was ready for some R and R down at the beach.  Dear reader, before we begin, I’d like to share with an apology for my seemingly schizophrenic baby blog.  (I mean no disrespect to schizos – I have no problem with schizos…and neither do the voices in my head!)  But for whatever reason I feel the need to explain to you how the process of this joint writing endeavor with my all so patient and understanding other half works.  We don’t read each other’s posts except for maybe small bits here and there and that’s how I want it.  Brian doesn’t read mine because for some reason he thinks I’m wordy and would rather be doing stuff than chained to a computer reading about the mental and maybe sometimes neurotic musings that he lives and breathes every day and I’m absolutely fine with that – I absolutely cringe at the idea of him making a mere suggestion that I change or omit something!  Conversely I stay away from reading his posts because as an English major and a control enthusiast, I fear I would try and edit the hell out of his experience and when all is said and done, it is probably best for our relationship that the right hand remains completely oblivious as to what the left is up to!

         

     In that vein, I’d also like to mention that I don’t even read what I wrote – hence any errors of grammar and/or spelling or any chemical imbalance, verbal diarrhea, or asshole twitching vulgarity that may spot my posts from time to time.  I do this, dear reader, all for you.  Well you and my own sanity, the ease with which I can OCD the hell out of something if I don’t show a little restraint, and the fact that I’m just pretty lazy…but mostly it’s all for you!  I’m hoping and trusting that in this process my posts will grow into what and how they want to be and therefore – so as to not censor or edit myself along the way and having what’s being written be forced to become something it’s not – I’m trying to back off as much as possible and just let it reveal itself, let it find its voice.

            I only mention this because if you have some expectation of reading a travel blog that talks mostly about spectacular scenery in soulful, subtle, scintillating sentences alive with clever alliteration, or places you HAVE to go and weird food you MUST try, interesting facts about local life, reviews on museums, palaces, ruins, and general points of interest, and suggestions of places to stay then you should probably just punch yourself in the nuts repeatedly and read no further.  (The nut punching isn’t necessary, but I just like to mention it when I can).  You may find some of that here - probably more so from Brian than myself – but that’s not how I experience the world.  And if you try to get me to explain how exactly I experience the world, well…that’s precisely what I’m trying to figure out myself…

            So we get up early Monday morning and fly from Manila to the island of Palawan.  Brian, Mavis, Summer and I were on one flight and Peewee, Stefan, Simon, and Andy on another that arrived about 10 minutes before ours.  We get our luggage and negotiate a van to take us to Sabang – a beach that’s about a 2 hour ride from the airport in Puerta Princessa.  In comparison, the van ride was rather luxurious in comparison to the public transport we’d experienced thus far.  That being said – almost everyone in the van felt like puking at one point along the ride.  But we got to Sabang and – halle-freakin-luah – I was in heaven!!!  White, soft sand and clear blue water as far as the eye could see.

                                                                     Sabang Beach

            We walked down the beach and headed to our lodgings – Andy, Peewee, Stefan, Simon, Brian, and me at Taraw (basic little huts on the beach for about 500 pesos a night) and Summer and Mavis headed a little further down the beach to the nice resort – The Daluyon (which means “strong wave”).  We got ourselves settled – B and I were staying in a room right next to Simon and Stefan who we all had decided at some point on the trip since they were the only 2 singles that they were now a couple.  Then we had a little lunch looking out on the water, reconnoitered with Mavis, Summer, and Andy who had disappeared to find them, and then headed for the water.  I was still feeling a little sick and worn out from the ride, but once I got into those waves, I can’t describe it any better than feeling like a kid again.  I was rejuvenated and reborn.

            At some point I was sitting on the beach – which always makes me sentimental – and though the others were scattered about, frolicking the day away, I remember it as being alone.

I was thinking a lot about Ellie.  Without going into too much detail and betraying any trust, Ellie was my first very best girlfriend from the time I was 4 until when her family moved away when I was about 6.  I didn’t know it then but it was the last time I would have a true, joyous and trusting relationship with another female for a long time.  When her family moved, we lost trust and I always longed to know what happened to her and had thought of her intensely over the years and even made feeble attempts to find her, though I didn’t know even where to begin – until this past August.  One day I was checking my e-mail and I saw a friend request from her on Facebook.  I was stunned and elated.  We started corresponding pretty intensely from the start and at the very beginning of our communications we discovered that we shared an awful secret that we didn’t know we shared for 27 years that has haunted and shaped us both over the last almost 3 decades.

Even later when we were at The Daluyon hanging out with everyone – talking, laughing, and enjoying the beach and each other - I felt so unsure of myself that every word I spoke and every engaging moment I had with another person was timid and made my whole body feel like I was pushing an 18-wheeler uphill.  I was wishing so much that sharing myself with others was easy, like with Ellie, that they could simply relate to me on that same level and that I didn’t have to think of how to relate to them on theirs.  The simple fact is that long ago, little by little, I stopped knowing how to relate to others on anything besides the shared path of past pain and tragedy and though it may have appeared that I was being cold and unfriendly and highly discerning of others, I was mad and frustrated with myself and it was just building and my demeanor was getting uglier and more shriveled as the days were going by.

Later as we were finishing dinner, Kate (Andy’s sister) showed up.  She had been delayed on her trip out to the Philippines by two days and though she had done the kayaking/camping trip we were about to embark on her with her husband Rusty before the wedding, she had decided to extend her stay and go again with the rest of us and thanks to the selfless, big-hearted generosity of one of the group, she was able to come join the gang so she flew up later in the day and took the van by herself with our driver Joe with whom she sang Air Supply songs the entire ride up.  Brian first met Kate when she was 16 and came to South Carolina for a weekend with a friend to visit Andy and since then, her and B have maintained a great friendship.  Since it was essentially Peewee and Andy’s honeymoon and Summer and Mavis didn’t have an extra bed and no one wanted to intrude on Simon and Stefan’s “alone time”, Kate roomed with me and Brian.

Kate is very much like Peewee in the sense that she’s just that girl you wanna be around.  She’s beautiful, a great storyteller, has an amazing laugh and she makes no demands whatsoever but is so good hearted and lively that you want to do things for her.  Of course I was completely intimidated by her!  After walking back from The Daluyon in the dark (there were no lights along the path back to our place and even then, like the rest of our time in the Philipines, there was only about 6 hours of electricity a day) and I’m pretty sure stepping in a big pile of water buffalo poop, we got back to our room, I donned all of my carpal tunnel arm and wrist gear, making Kate laugh that great laugh of hers, and we went to sleep to get some rest for our big day of adventuring the next day.
                                                                                                               Peewee, Andy and Kate

We woke up fairly early in the morning – it’s hard to have any sense of time these days and I rarely even know what day of the week it is – and met up with Ian and Melanie (a couple from the wedding who’d arrived in Sabang a day before us with Kelly, Quincy, John, and Bobby) and the 11 of us set off for the short hike to go on the mangrove tour.  About the mangrove tour…the best part of it was the tour dog, Brownie, who followed us the entire time down the water way excitedly running and navigating himself deftly through the abstract, twisted tree roots and swimming next to our boat when the mangled mangrove terrain wouldn’t allow him to run after us.

At one point, the boats stopped and the captain of the boat we were on jumped off, disappearing into the woods to find some woodworms – the disgusting, snot-like critters that Andrew Zimmern ate on his show once – and brought them back to the boat after some of the group expressed a desire to possibly eat some.  Brian had brought it up and since we hadn’t had time for breakfast, Simon said he could use a snack.  It would have made the trip a lot more interesting if Simon had actually eaten one, but he totally pussed out and then the tour was over.

We went back to our place and got organized and headed off in search of food that didn’t look like loogies.  We ate and then a few of us set out to find some essentials that we needed to replace or stock up in general.  For Simon, who had decided to come on the trip at the last minute, that was pretty much everything, including being on a mission to find a mozzy net since he’d barely slept due to being relentlessly attacked by mosquitos throughout the night.  After that, the group came together again – all of us who’d gone on the mangrove tour who Andy had aptly named the honky parade – and set out on the semi-treacherous monkey trail that led to the underground river.  The monkey trail was amazing and it felt amazing to be moving my body that much again, putting me in greater, more playful spirits.  And the group was really starting to gel and just having a blast getting to know each other and joking around – mostly teasing Simon and Stefan for being hot for each other.

                                                     Simon and his mozzy net.

          The Honkey Parade

                                                 The Monkey Trail

                                                            

           Cute little monkeys climbing through the forrest

By the time we got to the underground river it was already pretty late in the day so we opted for the shorter tour.  Once again we were split up into two boats and headed into the dark cave.  It was a pretty amazing sight to see and our tour guide did it great justice, pointing out interesting rock formations, giving us pertinent information about the river, and making the distinction for us between when he was relating a fact or just burping.  “That is what they call the Cathedral.  GGGGRRRRRRUUUUUUPPPP!  That was a burp.”  But my favorite was when he was talking about the bats that were more than plentiful in the great cavern.  He was telling us that they are eaten sometime and he said, “Bat is good, I like bat.  It tastes like mouse.”  When he was done with all the interesting tidbits he had to give, he informed us – very much like a PSA on the radio – that if we’d like to vote for the river as one of the seven wonders of the world that we could “Please visit www.new7wonders.com, thank you very much.”  (at least I think that was the website, but it was kind of amusing none-the-less.)

We finished the tour and then started to negotiate a boat ride back to the beach, which was looking pretty dismal as the weather had become ominous – dark and gloomy and windy as hell.  I was beginning to think that we were all going to have to camp out on that little tiny beach overnight and so I quickly offered up Brian for the group to eat if it came to it.  (One of my biggest fears is that I’ll get stranded somewhere and have to eat another person to stay alive.  Though I feel pretty confident that as a former anorexic I could probably hold out for quite some time.  But still – I usually try to carry peanut butter with me most places I go.)  Luckily we’d be eating pizzas at the Daluyon later that night as two boats came to take us back to civilization.  The ride was choppy and slow but we all made it with our bodies and stomachs in tact.

That night we had a great dinner and Brian and I excused ourselves somewhat early to get rest for the long car ride the next day up to El Nido.  We found out the next day though that we’d just missed all the excitement as our group almost got in a fight with a bunch of Norwegian guys whom Andy confronted when they started yelling at one of the hookers they were with.  Us old, married (or domestic partnered) couples miss all the fun I guess!  Nevertheless – Sabang was a nice interlude from all of the running around in Manila we had done and I was more ready than ever to just give myself over to the sun, sand, and sea on the upcoming camping trip.  Though I’ve spent the better part of the last 6 years in the mountains of Colorado, I am a beach girl through and through – it’s my element, it’s where I feel most at peace and I was hoping that a great deal of peace was coming my way to sooth the restlessness, irritability, and discontent I’d been soaking myself in for the past few weeks.

I was thinking about Ellie and what we’d been through and how I’ve become and who I was wanting to be and how much that all dogged me so much still when what I was hoping for was to break free from all of that on this trip.  I’ve had so much love in my life and in this life I have had the world given to me.  Now I’m presented with the challenge of giving myself to the world.  How will that come to pass, I don’t know when and if and exactly how it will.  But when I was in Sabang, when I was in those waves, playing more freely than I have in longer than I can remember, I had a moment of hope and a moment of feeling like a kid again, without a care in the world, only trust and I’m hoping to ride that feeling to freedom and floating and flowing and finally start to leave the fight behind…

xoxoM