So Long Sabang

Pronounced properly, the title of this post rhymes. Anyway, greetings to all my readers. A couple days ago I left Sabang indefinitely. If I ever make it back to the Philippines, I will almost certainly pay a visit there. Only time will tell. In the interest of not making a post based on speculation and trying to guess the future, here's what I do know.

Less difficulty makes for fewer stories and adventures, but I was happy to forfeit excitement in exchange for a simple hassle-free departure from Sabang; I had no trouble getting to Manila. The hour ride on the banca from the boat station in Sabang (a hundred yards from Capt'n Gregg's) to Batangas was quite enjoyable and I walked directly onto an air-conditioned bus that took me straight into Manila. Meeting back up with the Fajardo family was a wonderful feeling: they took me back to a familiar house that felt like a home even to me. Their hospitality ranks among the best I've ever known.

That night, I tried something new. The daughter is in a capoeira group that meets several times a week. There are several regular participants who are very skilled and experienced, but there are also many beginners as well. When I walked through the door and realized I was the only white person, the only one wearing shorts, the tallest, and without question the least experienced, I started having doubts. As everyone started warming up, no one was offended by my utter cluelessness which made me feel much better and strengthened my confidence. If there's one thing I've learned about the Filipino population, it's that they are very helpful. I know any generalization needs to be taken with a grain of salt, but from my experiences, they have been very welcoming and eager to offer help. Anyway, the session continued with a sort of “monkey see, monkey do” format. The instructor demonstrated a move, and then the 20+ students would emulate it as best as possible: kicks, twists, turns, swings, sweeps, strikes, steps, handstands, cartwheels, handsprings, and more. The thing that stands out in my memory is how easy the instructor made everything look. I was constantly thinking to myself “oh, that's all we have to do? That's not hard.” These thoughts would inevitably be followed by a flailing flop onto the hardwood dance floor or at least a poor enough execution that my laughter would send me to the floor. One way or another, I usually ended up on the ground. However I feel that I must mention the feedback from other students and the instructor. Many people there were convinced that I had quite a bit of previous experience. Apparently no one (they reiterated, “no one”) gets the moves that I was getting on the first day...or second, or even usually third. For years I've wanted to pursue some sort of dance, gymnastics, or martial arts (this should be a surprise to the world because I never told this to anyone) since I think it's something in which I could excel. This capoeira session makes me want to do it even more.

The next morning I woke up with soreness in my hips and right foot but made my way to the train station. My schedule included meeting up with Armand in a mall downtown. About two months ago I mentioned that I might record at some point in Manila. Those plans are finally coming to fruition but here's the thing: it's midnight and I leave the house in no more than 6 and a half hours for Boracay. I consider this my vacation – after 2 and a half months of work 7 days a week, I get 6 days off. Sounds fair to me. However it means that I will have to continue this post later. Stay tuned for a crowded train ride, a walk through a series of malls that could be a self-sufficient city, a crazy drive around Manila, and a recording session that could have gone smoother. This video is taken from the banca on my way out of Sabang. It starts at Capt'n Gregg's and pans all the way to my apartment nestled in the middle of all of those green buildings at the end of the beach.

Sink or Swim

The first two nights in Manila (capital of Philippines) were made spectacular by the Fajardo family. I owe them big time when I come back through there on my way out to Bali (or if I take a weekend visit to Manila). Their hospitality was more than I could have asked for.

Manila to Sabang: the epic journey.
I pulled into the bus station and squeeeeezed onto the bus like a Sherpa with a huge bag on my back, an enormous duffel in one hand and my full backpack in the other. Picture an elephant trying to mingle with gazelles. No one seemed to be too concerned about me, but the looks I got were unmistakable: genuine surprise and disbelief. I made my way to the back and assumed the position of the lonely traveler pensively gazing out the window as a real-time slideshow of a land unknown unfolded before his eyes. Before long my thoughts were interrupted by a 60-year old retired Filipino military sniper who called himself Adorico. Through a very thick accent spoken from a mouth lacking several key front teeth, I learned about malls, factories, military, and his current trade: real estate. Nearly an hour went by before my new companion kindly motioned to the exit, shook my hand, wished me the best, and left me alone to wonder weather the rest of the country was equally friendly.

Sinking back into my position by the window imagining what experiences lie ahead, images of trees, villages, stores, fields, shacks, cars, and people flashed past. Every turn of the wheels marked the farthest from home I had ever been. Like a child making his first jump from a diving board, peering over his unstable toes at the water far below, I wondered if this was really what I wanted to do. Will I be able to find a job? Will I make any friends? What if I get robbed? Will there be any places to live? What do I do if no one will hire me? These ringing questions turned into faint echos as the bus rolled to a stop in Bantangas Pier at which point I needed my mind to be as sharp and focused as possible.

Off the bus I was met with suspiciously friendly people whom had evidently been waiting in Batangas all day long for me to arrive so they could bend over backwards to carry my bags, lead me straight to the ticket booth, and practically hold my hand all the way to the ferry. I may be trusting but I'm no fool. After fighting a few of them off I followed everyone else conveniently to the ticket office. I was in for an unfortunate surprise; the waters were too rough for the ferry straight to Puerto Galera so I had to book a seat on the ferry to Calapan a couple hours later. By the time I picked a seat on the ferry I had walked at least half of a mile while climbing 4 flights of stairs schlepping a full suitcase on my back, a loaded duffel in one hand (each one 50-60lbs), and a bulging backpack in the other. My arms were on fire from straining to keep everything together and sweat was pouring from my face. I was able to make it all the way not by physical endurance but by adrenaline and the realization that if I didn't make it to that ferry then I would be stuck in Batangas with no one to turn to for help.

The man next to me talked to me for a while along the way. He turned out to teach English and was very interested in American education and economics. However I got a weird vibe from him and declined his offer to swap phone numbers. I made eye contact with another passenger about my age and when he hung up his phone he sat down to chat. I reminded myself to be cautious around strangers but couldn't help feeling comforted by his friendliness and seemingly genuine character. I got his number and then Bong introduced me to his three friends he was traveling with. As the ferry pulled into port, he told me that my destination (Sabang) was along the way to the place they were staying and that a buddy of theirs was going to pick them up. I cautiously agreed to travel with them and a new adventure began.