When I went to the Asian Development Bank I went by a new (to me) upscale mall, not far from where I live, called The Podium. Different stores and restaurants! And on Friday night on the way to the night bus, I met Julie at a mall in Cubao, where there was a Taco Bell. I was depressed when I had to stop at a Taco Bell in order to keep moving on the Drive Across America – at least Taco Bell hits some sort of Mexican craving, but it’s still fast food. Now I have too much mall food! Cubao is a happening area – if I were going to be here long-term I might branch out. But I’ll probably stick close to home with Shangri-La and the Mega Mall. Is it sad that this is just a big part of my life here?
What a difference it makes to be able to take a night bus! Having to be home before dark (not to mention having to leave places and friends earlier than I would have had to if there hadn’t been such a policy) was one of the more stressful aspects of life in Morocco. To Vigan, we left at 11 pm and arrived at 7 am – and I slept reasonably well. Buses to and from Naga leave at around 9 pm and arrive around 4:30 am – not an ideal time to leave or to arrive, and when I wondered why, people answered, “that’s the Philippines.” I also don’t know why the buses are so over-air-conditioned. They are way too cold. What a waste of energy! I wondered why Filipinos don’t complain about it and people answered, “Filipinos never complain.”
I arrived in the wee hours and took a taxi to a hotel that my supervisor told me was a safe place to hang out until daylight. I asked if they had a three-hour room rate (the hotels near where I live do, but I think for salacious reasons) and they did! So I had a nap and a shower and felt much better.
Beryl is a Peace Corps Response Volunteer in Naga. But for a visa snafu, she’d have been part of our little group, but she arrived a week later and has been off on her own. She’s doing interesting things, working on disaster preparedness for children, and we had breakfast. I thought I allowed plenty of time to get the air-con van to Sabang for the next leg of the journey, but they had all left for the day – I took two jeepneys instead. I got to Sabang to discover that the last ferry had left as well. They offered me a private boat for 2000 pesos and I said that was all right, I’d just stay in the town and go the next morning. Then I walked over to the beach to mull over my options. Brown sand beach with lots of trash – and did I mention that it was raining? Just then someone offered me a private ride to Caramoan for 600 pesos. When he got down to 500, I said, “let me see the boat.” Judging it seaworthy, I said yes; it was quite nice to have a private boat ride across the Lagonay Gulf (Bodies of Water for $1000, Alex) to Caramoan town.
A well-traveled Princeton acquaintance said that the northern end of Bicol had the most beautiful wilderness beach he had ever seen; I was looking for places to spend my last vacation days (I had saved days for Shanghai but my friend there went and got named Ambassador to New Zealand!) and that seemed as good an endorsement as any. I found a nice bed-and-breakfast in Caramoan town, walked the one street, and had – no Bicol Express on the B&B menu! – chicken curry (still spicy and made with coconut milk, so in the spirit of the region). My hotel had a shower with hot water so hot that I had to lower the temperature! What a pleasure.
On Sunday, I went island-hopping. I was the only guest at my B&B and I might have been the only guest in town. I had a boat to myself – we went to three islands, and I had them all to myself. We (the captain, his mate and I) spent 2-3 hours on each island – all with small and intimate white sand beaches. I swam, sat and read, picked up trash (there wasn’t much of it), watched fishing boats go by, had a box lunch that the B&B made for me, noted the changes in the sky as rain came and went, and had a wonderful day. As I was going from place to place occurred to me that it was December 13 and here I was in the Philippine Sea. Three more islands of the 7107! At the end we went to a shrine – a statue of the Virgin Mary built on a hill of 527 steps (they thought if they built it, people would come – so I decided why not. Tough climb, that’s why not! But it had a nice view from the top). I found Bicol Express at the one restaurant in town, but the only option was pork, so instead I had another regional specialty, laing, which is like creamed spinach but a little stronger-tasting.
And Monday I said farewell to the Caramoan Peninsula. I had learned one word of Bicolano – mabalos, or thank you – and felt as far away as I had yet. There wasn’t as much English spoken, the people looked different (maybe darker? Maybe quieter?). Bicol gets the worst of the typhoons, and there was a sense of the land that time forgot – or that Manila forgot. It felt remote. This time I caught the ferry and the air-con van – they weren’t as much fun, except for the end of the ferry ride. The boat got as close to shore as it could and then it was surrounded by men wading out in chest-high waves. They yelled for people to hand them their bags, which they carried to shore, and then they started to carry the people to shore. A man told me to sit on the outrigger spur and then slide down onto someone’s shoulders – rather than go piggyback, as others were, I was carried by two men (one of whom told me I was a very heavy woman – how much was I supposed to tip him for that?). That was a priceless Philippines moment. I went to an internet café and then had dinner with Beryl and also Katie and Theo, who were just relocated there. And then I got a luxury air-con bus back – big, wide, reclining seat – and had a nap in my own bed before going to work in the morning.
Other things to do in Bicol – well, you can visit Mt. Mayon, the volcano shaped like a perfect cone. Not this time though – it started to erupt on Monday morning, and yesterday they evacuated thousands of people who live in the danger zone (see http://www.nytimes.com/aponline/2009/12/15/world/AP-AS-Philippines-Volcano.html?scp=1&sq=mayon&st=cse). They’ll spend the holidays in an evacuation center. On the other side of the peninsula there is whale shark watching – it’s a little early for it now though; February or March is peak. There is a boat ride you can take at night to see so many fireflies it lights up the sky – that sounds like fun. But I was happy with my remote, unspoiled peninsula and white-sand-beach island-hopping day, and with my spicy non-express Bicol cuisine!
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Were you ever concerned about being the only passenger on any of these boats? Especially being fenale?
ReplyDeleteI liked your comment about being carried amd the comment about being heavy. Do they say that to people figuring that they'll feel guilty and tip more? With comments like that, they'd lose a lot of tips, at least from Americans!
No, never concerned. I feel incredibly safe here - the more I travel the more aware I am of that (and of how I was always a little on edge in Morocco, in retrospect). I have to remind myself to be on my guard when I get back to Manila, just because it's a big city!
ReplyDeleteI don't think he said it to make me feel guilty or tip more - I think it was just his observation! And since I was the only non-Filipino tourist I saw (though I heard about two British tourists who were there the day before), I think it's going to be a while before they have to worry about mass tourism. To me, it was part of the charm, so I hope they keep saying things like that and keep that unloading method. Better than being overly commercial - they might even have to build a dock if it gets too discovered....