Wanderlust Heaven!

I learned shortly after leaving Baguio that a couple was found murdered in an upscale hotel in Camp John Hay.  Sounded like a murder-suicide, but there was some speculation of ‘outside involvement.’  Anyway, yet another unsettling instance after similar happenings in Thailand and Newton.  Is there a hell-hound on my trail?

As mentioned earlier, after leaving Baguio I spent a bit of time in Manila before moving on to the Visayan Islands, the central part of the Philippines.  While in Manila I managed to brush up on one of my favorite games, jenga, which involves building a precarious castle of wooden pieces, all the while removing pieces lower in the castle without upsetting and toppling the entire edifice.  The game is engaging in its own right; what really makes it intriguing is that you play it against several attractive Filipina barmaids, with truth or dare-like side bets in place.  I think I’ll end this description right here and now…

After losing a few games of jenga I flew down to Cebu, the capital of the Visayan region, a place I had visited from time to time when I lived in HKG and Tokyo.  Cebu is a strangely appealing place – not a beautiful city, but one ringed by mountains and sea, with a laid-back demeanor.  I suppose the real appeal is its proximity to dozens of other, more bucolic islands, many of which have superb diving and feel far from urban madness.  I’ve always loved the idea, and practice, of island-hopping.  When I was a kid I loved going out to Nantucket and Martha’s Vineyard – I think my favorite part of these trips was the ferry ride.  When I lived in New York and dated a woman from Croatia, we went over there and bounced around some of Croatia’s Adriatic islands on the former Yugoslav state ferryline, wonderfully named Jadrolinea.  And one of my favorite fantasy book series was, and still is, A Wizard of Earthsea by Ursula LeGuin.  My mother turned me onto these books when I was eight or so, and I’ve re-read them 5+ times since.  The world of Earthsea is one of islands and boats traversing the seas between them, of wizards changing the nature of the winds and of dragons matching wits with men.  The protagonist, Ged the Archmage, was constantly sailing from island to island, and sometimes across membranes of time and life and death.  So sometimes when I get on boats taking me across the seas I think back to my past, and to stories I’ve read over the years.

I spent a few days in Cebu, revisiting a few sites and seeing a friend, Romy Ballesteros.  Romy and I met on a ferry from Cebu to the Camotes Islands about 2 years ago.  I was going to a remote little resort in Santiago Bay, and was expecting to be met by a jeep when I arrived in the little port – but when the ship docked, no one from the hotel was there, and I was swarmed by random taxis.  Romy came to my assistance and had his driver get me over to the resort.  We ended up having dinner and a beer there and shared some travel stories.  He had spent some time in the States as a mining executive, and was now spending his ‘retirement’ running medical missions in remote areas lacking good medical care.  He’s a lovely guy and it’s good spending time with him. 

I also wandered into Our Place, which is a expat-oriented pub downtown.  I’ve often thought of stopping in there, but never have.  The reputation wasn’t too good years ago, but now it’s under new management and the place seems to have cleaned up its act.  Downtown Cebu itself is pretty sleazy…most of the affluence seems to have gone uptown.  Anyway, when I sat down at the rectangular bar at Our Place, I instantly struck up a conversation with a Scottish retiree named Duncan, who had spent time in and around Cebu since the early 80’s, and was now ‘permanently’ ensconced there.  Duncan was a real character, had spent time in the British military in Germany and had very candid opinions of the US military and misuses thereof.  His point of view – which I imagine is not abnormal amongst former military types – is quite hawkish.  He feels that the US didn’t ‘finish the job’ during the first Gulf War, and that we also let politics screw up the Vietnam War.  If we just listened to our allies (the Brits, not the French!) we’d have been better off across the board. 

This was a Friday afternoon, and as the sun went down other expats streamed into the place.  I had intended to just stop in for a beer or two, then exercise, have dinner, and go out.  I stayed there all afternoon, had dinner there, and then went out bar-hopping with Duncan (65 years old), his Filipina wife, and a Swedish fellow named Tomas and his Filipina fiancée.  We hit a couple go-go bars and had lots of sloppy fun, not all of which I recall.  I plan to stop back into Our Place next time I pass through Cebu (in a couple days).

I spent most of Saturday recovering, and behaved myself that evening.  On Sunday I checked out of my modest hostel and went down to the piers to catch a ferry to the little city of Dumaguete on Negros Island.  Negros is just one of 7,107 Philippine islands, and is just a few hours’ ride from Cebu.  I visited Dumaguete a few years ago and was struck by its calm nature and mellow vibe.  There are a few universities there, some good diving, and a long seaside boulevard lined with restaurants and bars – amazing tropical feeling as you walk down it.  As I sat on the ferry to Dumaguete I felt a sense of excitement that I hadn’t felt much since I was a kid…I recalled family trips to Nantasket Beach south of Boston, it wasn’t far from home but had such a different feeling from our suburban town of Framingham.  I used to get so excited I couldn’t sleep the night before going there, to hang out with family friends, and after we got home I was so sad – in a strangely nostalgic sense – that I would cry, thank my parents endlessly for the trip, and be cranky in school for days.  It’s been a while since I let my emotions rise and fall so sharply, I suppose it’s part of the maturing process, and I also think when I lost my mother I placed some tight boundaries on my emotions which are now starting to crumble, thankfully. 

I checked into my nice little hotel near the boulevard, then went over to Cocos Amigos restaurant for a bite to eat and to find out when the World Cup final would be played.  Turned out to be 2 a.m. that evening, so I walked off my dinner, then hit the sack for a few hours, planning to arise at 1:30 a.m. to catch the match.  I was able to get up, after struggling to shake off my weariness, and wandered down to Cocos Amigos, which was full of expats and a few locals draining beers and ready for the match.  And it was a pretty good match, with a couple early goals scored, then some good back and forth for the balance of the match.  Italy was pressing in the first half, but France was on the attack for the second half and extra time…I thought Thierry Henry would score but he had a couple near misses.  Then Zidane head-butted Matterazzi and was sent off…what a bizarre scenario…and Italy took the match.  I was pulling for France, having studied there a long time ago, but mainly wanted to see a good match and was happy for Italy in the end.

Stuck around for a few minutes after the match – it was now 4 a.m. or so.  Had a final beer with an American retiree named Joe who had settled down nearby.  Nice enough guy, although a bit too intense.  The barmaids seemed to find him creepy.  Had been through 3 divorces and had a son in prison for 28 years for heroin offenses.  I suppose those experiences can make one a bit intense.  I never want to find out.

Walked out of the bar en route to the hotel.  Sun was starting to peek out of the clouds…the hazy light looked spectral against the ocean and palms…I just stood there for 15 minutes staring out into the void.  Heard some musical sounds from round the corner…thought at first it was the omnipresent ‘videoke’ – but no, it was an early-morning mass in an ancient-looking church…I stood out by the entrance and watched the priest rouse the masses and exhort them on to a fulfilling day at work – it was now Monday morning.  I’d never seen anything like this before and just hung out there for a few minutes, soaking in the haunting ambience.  Then I hit the sack for the second time that night, and slept very soundly till late morning.  I read somewhere that in ‘days of yore’ our ancestors often had two sleeps…they’d go to sleep when the sun went down, got up in the middle of the night for a couple hours to eat, drink, read, fornicate, etc., then back to sleep till sunrise.  Not the worst model, come to think of it – might try to adopt something like this at some point!

On Tuesday I went diving out in Dauin, near Dumaguete.  My divemaster was an American expat named Mike Feeney, very good fellow who had settled down in Dumaguete three years back and opened a small dive shop.  He’d had some disputes with his local partner, which had hampered the growth of the biz, but he was finally getting off the ground.  I saw his shop walking around town and stopped in.  He took me on a couple nice shore dives – first was down a steep slope, and into a field of car wrecks – not sure how the hell these wrecks got out that far, but there they were.  The most intact one was a jeep-like vehicle, and had been submerged long enough for it to have become completely colonized and converted into something other-worldly.  The original paint job was gone, replaced by a psychedelic paisley design that could have only come from our maker, or perhaps from a mod-artist like Koons, Magritte, or Johns.  But the inside of the jeep was even more interesting.  The steering wheel was still in place, but atop it sat a type of coral that resembled a bleached-white human brain, with multiple lobes and creases.  And from the dashboard floated an antenna or tail-like thing that seemed to be picking up signals from the heavens.  Reminded me of the move Alien, with the alien ship that was part machine, part organic.  Also inside the jeep were a beautiful lion-fish, with its white and black gills (or whatever) exploding out from its sides, and a colorful fish with big ‘lips’ that reminded me a bit of Lee Iacocca, perhaps because the vehicle seemed to be a jeep.

As we were heading back to shore Mike pointed out a couple of seahorses and ghostfish.  The former were truly breathtaking, they really do look like the caricatures you tend to see.  One was gold-colored and majestic – didn’t seem to really be doing anything to swim, it just used its curling tail to cling to sea-grass while it poked around for food.  The other seahorse was pure white and similarly relaxed.  As we finished our safety stop at 5 meters depth, I thought I was hallucinating, because I couldn’t tell whether the sea-grass was moving in the current, or whether the sea-bed was shaking like mad – tsunami?!  Not so…just the sea-grass swishing back and forth.

The second dive was also nice – out on a reef off the shore.  Saw some more interesting marine life – forget the names of all the various fish, but did see some manta rays, a big grouper, a moray eel, and one species which can make itself greatly resemble the reef it inhabits, then use its cranial angler to grab passing prey.  Remarkable camouflage capabilities – Mike had to point it out for me to notice it. 

Went back to town and had a beer with Mike and his Filipina girlfriend Joann, who’s friendly and sweet.  And I ended up hanging out with Mike the next afternoon – he proposed going hiking and swimming in a rainforest near Valencia town.  Brought along a few other guys, and had a good time tramping up some trails and swimming under two big waterfalls.  The mayor of Valencia built a small cabin and a private swimming hole in this area, and we ended up hanging out there.  The swimming hole was ingeniously built, a small waterfall flows into the pool, and the drainage at the back leads back into the river.  Hopefully this area won’t become crapped-up with hotdog vendors and drunken teenaged boys…

Went out that night with Mike to ‘Reggae Night’ at a local resto-bar complex uptown.  This is the big weekly event in Dumaguete and it was indeed well-attended.  I had a drink there with an administrator from Silliman University, which is the city’s biggest private school and has a nice-looking campus.  I had wandered around there that morning, and noticed that it has a school of business.  It occurred to me that there might be an interesting opportunity for me to be less of a selfish societal leech and contribute a bit to some folks who could use what I’ve got.  I don’t think I’ve got the stomach to help the truly worst-off in society…I read about a woman who sought out homeless people in the NYC subway system, and at one point helped get a guy with a gangrenous leg out of a side-tunnel.  Reading about the stench of his leg, as well as the rest of him, and the overall wretchedness of the situation, wasn’t an uplifting experience to me.  But good for her…we certainly need more Samaritans like her.  It just won’t be me.  But I do think I could be pretty effective at helping those who have their act together, but who lack opportunities.  Just walking around the Philippines and talking to locals (and expats), you get to understand that there are plenty of smart / university-schooled people who wind up working as clerks at pawnshops, or making beds in hotels, or serving fries at McD’s.  It’s deeply saddening…like going to a hypothetical Western nation where 90% of the wealth has been confiscated, but the people remain – with a bit of memory of prosperity, in some cases.  Several decades ago the Philippines was wealthier than Japan…but the arcs of these two nations crossed in the 50’s and have diverged dramatically ever since. 

I won’t get into any deeper analysis of the economic miseries of the Philippines here…suffice it to say that they could use some practical help.  And I’ll bet I could help out as a guest lecturer at a university business school and teach a few real-world lessons that the academics there couldn’t.  So perhaps at some point I’ll return to Dumaguete and speak to the administration about sharing some of my experiences with the b-school students there.

Enjoyed the rest of the reggae music – the band was very tight and the crowd was into it.  Went to the restroom at one point and while peeing, noticed a sizeable insect struggling incredibly violently to rise above the foul liquids in the trough urinal and stay alive.  I admired its dramatic efforts for a moment, and even considered plucking it from the waters and saving it.  Then I stood back and considered the larger lesson, and walked back to enjoy the music.

Stayed up pretty late, then went to bed and got ready to take a boat back to Cebu the next day.  During the ride, I had a couple thoughts which are perhaps worth mentioning here:

·        During the past year, I did four good things.  One, quit my job.  Two, spent a few months with my family in Boston.  Three, traveling and having random new experiences.  Four, writing about them in this ‘slog.’  Is there a #5 coming up?  We’ll see.

·        What I’m doing – traveling around the world, not working – is something that many people I’m meeting find it difficult to comprehend.  Obviously most lack the resources to do something like this – but others could do it, but lack the imagination, or the freedom.  Anyway, I think I’m on to something good, until proven otherwise.

Alright, it’s San Miguel (beer) time…catch you later.

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