The Filipino hammock life

Getting from Vietnam to the Philippines was quite a process. We left Siagon at 1 am, transferred planes in Manila, and landed in Cebu City early in the morning. We took a taxi from the airport to the bus station, a minibus to Maya, and a bangka to tiny Malapascua Island. I could write again about the insane drivers, the being completely squished in the backseat, the winding mountain roads, the carsickness, the unbelievable jagged hillsides, the beautiful beaches, the endless blue ocean. But every journey on this trip seemed to be full of these amazing extremes.

In Malapascua, we walked down the beach to Mike and Diose's, where we booked a bright, breezy room in a guesthouse right on the beach. We napped, swam in the ocean, gorged on adobo chicken for dinner, and finished the night with beer, rum, and card games on the beach. Rum really is cheaper than water in the Philippines.

Mike and Diose's

I woke up early the following morning to a jumble of sounds: roosters crowing, sawing and hammering, and pop music playing from every nearby house (everyone sings along, loudly). I lounged on the coral sand to watch men fixing and painting their boats, fishermen pushing off for the day, and women mending soft, white nets that looked like clouds fallen from the sky to land all over the beach.

The beautiful Malapascuan waterfront

Breakfast every day was Dosie's banana and mango pancakes (I'm still craving those), coffee, orange juice, and fresh mangos at a shady picnic table on the beach. I read Gulliver's Travels (one of the few books I could find in English) and enjoyed swinging in a hammock, laying on the beach, and swimming in the warm, clear water. In the afternoon, we walked through town to explore the island by foot. Motorbikes are the only transportation; there are no cars or paved roads. Most homes are floorless, and built haphazardly with plywood and aluminum siding. The sandy alleyways and paths of the neighborhood crisscrossed and curved; you could be lost in an instant.

I learned later from Mike (German expat, husband of Diose, and co-owner of the guest houses), that frequent typhoons discourage Malapascua's residents from building larger, more expensive homes. If your home only cost $100 and 5 hours to construct, who cares if it blows away every other year? Mike told a particularly colorful story about the latest typhoon, which had him, Diose, and the kids crouching in the center of their home while piece of flying coral pierced through the doors and walls. Evidence of the typhoons was everywhere: washed out portions of beach, palm trees growing nearly parallel to the ground, stumps and brush piled around town.

Sideways palm trees

Dinner the second night was chicken curry, thai fish patties, and filipino seafood and noodles at an outdoor bar, and more cheap rum on the beach, this time with a fellow traveler visiting the Philippines from San Francisco for scuba diving. After dinner, we found an amazing bakery for dessert. At first it seemed just like another plywood house along a random sand pathway, but the front window was piled with pastries and brownies and cookies (4 for $0.50). We basically bought the place out, and I nearly cried when I dropped my brownie right in the sand.

We rented kayaks to explore further around the island. On the north side, we found deserted beach coves only accessible by boat, abandoned buildings, rocky cliffs, stormy seas, and a lot more typhoon damage. We also hired one of Mike's friends to take us out on his balangay for a snorkeling tour of the island. We swam through perfectly clear, warm water to sunken Japanese warships and amazing coral reefs. As I paddled lazily around a reef, I was suddenly surrounded by flashing silver lights. An enormous school of tiny silver fish had encircled me. I circled and dove and spun and swam and they perfectly mimicked my every movement. But try as I might, I could not touch them. At first, I was scared. Does this indicate the presence of a predator? SHARKS?! Maybe I was the predator? Or maybe they were planning to eat me? After a while it just became magical, straight out of Planet Earth. And suddenly, they were gone.

So many beaches!

The last night in Malapascua was one of the most fun of the whole trip. We started out with beers at The Other Place, a fun, outdoor bar. We had lagers with ice cubes. Apparently it's common in the Philippines to put ice in your beer. It keeps the beer cold and simultaneously waters it down, so you can drink more! And pee more! And (kinda) stay hydrated! We played pool with some local Malapascuans, at which point they invited us to a festival in the village at the other end of the island. We hopped a ride with Daniel (one of the moped drivers) for an insane (three people on one moto!) ride across the island in the dark. We zoomed through deep sand, over tree roots, along narrow and winding paths, past people walking in the dark, around blind turns, and up and down steep hills that dropped off on both sides. I was terrified, but it was worth it when we arrived at the street festival!

Beer with ice cubes!

We bought beers from someone's cooler, ate chicken foot off a stick, watched people gambling over dice games and cock fights, and then paid 50 pesos to enter the dance floor, which was an outdoor basketball court in front of the church. I felt awkward dancing with the Virgin Mary serenely watching over me from a mural on the wall. However, probably due to the strict Catholic culture in the Philippines, this rockin' dance party consisted of mostly salsa dancing with NO touching between guys and girls. It was generally girls dancing with other girls, and no booty shaking despite the loud American hip-hop music. It was quite nice actually! We just danced around barefoot with our barkada, drank beer and sodas, and chatted around a fire in the street. By the end of the night, we were intensely discussing Jean-Claude van Damme and Steven Seagal.

And the very next day, after some time exploring the streets of Cebu City, it was back to Singapore. We ate cheap hawker center dinner, and I took Pete to one of the swanky rooftop bars overlooking downtown for a dose of culture shock. After traveling the rest of South East Asia, Singpore really does stick out like a sore thumb. We lamented how expensive everything was and how grungy we felt in comparison. At the bar, we talked to a group of businessmen in the country for work. They were loving the city and so excited to hit up Geylang for some 'hookers and blow.' Ugh, I was ready to get out of there! After some obligatory pictures of Marina Bay Sands, the merlion, and Clarke Quay, it was back on a plane for the long, overnight trip home to Denver.

Saying goodbye to Singapore