"The end of the Earth," that's what it felt like. Briana and I successfully completed a week touring in the Philippines last week.
I will attempt to post a travel brief here. Check "My photos" link to the right for all the pictures.
I lost some from my camera and Briana took some that I will have to get from her later. Unfortunately I regret not taking more photos, but don't we all?
Saturday 2pm: Briana and I take off from Seattle, spirits high, catching up on the last 10 years that we have been in touch, but not in constant contact. Stephen is on his way to Idaho with the girls.
11 hrs and 2 bad airline meals later (time change throws everything): They detain us on the plane in Tokyo to fill out a health questionnaire. Some Asians on the plane were wearing masks. A group of "health officials" board the plane in full-on bio hazard garb. Masks, goggles, gowns, gloves, boots, you name it (too bad they wouldn't let us take photos). Briana and I have been to Japan together before, we giggled at the analness of the Japanese. They shoot an infra-red gun at each passenger looking for fevers. We are all detained for an hour and one Japanese girl is escorted off the plane in embarrassment.
1 hr later: Briana and I are boarding the plane to Manila, lamenting our loss of layover (due to more security checks and freak swine flu scare) and lost chance to enjoy some soba noodles. We get Pocky instead, our favorite Japanese snack. I realize my cell phone is not going to even get reception internationally.
3 1/2 hrs or so later: We land in Manila. The airport is hot and sweaty, even in the middle of the night.
30 minutes later: we are relieved to see our backpacks didn't get snagged on any luggage equipment and have made the trip safely.
For the next 5 hrs we wait at the domestic wing of the Manila airport for our flight to Cebu. We pretend to try and sleep on hard metal benches. I realize the phone booths all require a special calling card that I can't get in the middle of the night and mine won't work on any of the phones. No contact yet with Stephen and the girls and I am not even sure what time it is in Idaho.
4:50am Manila time: Take off for Cebu.
6:15 am: In Cebu airport I see the same pay phones, try to use pesos to call Stephen, no dice.
7:00 am: We pay what I think is an exorbitant amount to take a taxi to the bus terminal (turns out we weren't getting the American swindle and were reading our Lonely Planet book wrong).
7:30: 5 men are all shouting at us in English as we get out of the taxi at the very run-down Cebu bus terminal.
"Take this bus!" "Are you going to Malapascua?!"
I yell back "Wait a minute!!" in Tagalog and hold up my hands to say BACK OFF!!
By now we've had about 1 1/2 of sleep in the last 24 hrs. The men all howl with laughter that a 5'11 American speaks Tagalog and leave us alone. We pick a bus (all open air and a bit run down). They promise me we are leaving in 10 minutes.
8:30 or so: We finally leave for Maya, the jump off point for Malapascua.
10:30: My left butt cheek starts to fall asleep from hanging half off the "double seat".
this is what the ride felt like
11:30: My kidneys start to protest the constant bumping, careening, jarring of the bus ride from hell on partly unpaved roads.
12:30ish: We arrive in the tiny town of Maya. We walk along the street looking for safe bottled water and run across Aba! an internet cafe. Too bad there has been a brown-out for 2 days (no electricity).
We board the boat to Malapascua, with my anxiousness level arising acutely at not having any contact with my traveling family. The boat has these "wings" on each side to keep it afloat and now that I think about it, no life jackets. I wasn't too concerned until the 3rd time I thought we couldn't possibly fit anymore people or things on the boat . . . . . and then they did.
1:15: Put put put . . . We arrive on Malapascua Island, a place small enough to walk around in a day and with no cars, just a few motorbikes. But they have "resorts" of sorts and plenty of international visitors to make us feel comfortable. We are lucky to have visited during a Fiesta, which means that there will be lots of street vendors selling stuff and people singing their hearts out to karaoke until the wee hours of dawn. Too bad we weren't "in" with the locals or we would have gotten to sample all the special foods they fix for fiesta. Weird sticky rice sticks cooked in banana leaves, mmmmmm. We did get to try one rice thing at a restaurant.
This is when I felt we had arrived at the End of the Earth. We had been traveling for so long and not slept and I felt like there was no way anyone in Idaho could reach me if something went wrong (I am not sure Stephen even had the resort name written down) and even if they did, I wouldn't be able to get home for like 36 hrs or something. It just seemed an eternity away and for a mom that has been in charge of every detail of her kids life (minus a few days) for 3 1/2 yrs, it was HARD.
But this did not diminish the fact that I had arrived at a most beautiful tropical island. I was so grateful to sit down and enjoy a cold Sprite and awesome Pork Adobo.
Even though our resort had their generator turned off and no calls could be made (of course), the diving shop next door had a laptop plugged in to a cell phone and they called this an "internet cafe" and charge me 100 pesos to use it for 30 minutes (that's like $2). It took 15 minutes to send one ubber slow email to Stephen, my parents and his that we were there safe (although the "sound" part was arguable, so I didn't include that).
We took a dip in the warm, aqua blue ocean and showered (a real shower head, not just a bucket shower! what a treat). And laid down in our non-air conditioned hut and slept from 3pm to about 4 am the next morning.
I'll have to post about the rest of the trip later, this one alone has taken me all week to get up.
Asha and Odessa were wearing the same shirt bought at the same thrift store!
The theaters on campus were full of scheduled venue and of course we sought out the fiddling performance. Stephen loves fiddling, care of his roots being from Weiser Idaho and the National Oldtime Fiddlers Contest that is held in Weiser each year. The fiddling at Folklife was held in a cool dark theater crammed with older patrons who eyed our children warily. But both girls sat on our laps quietly, maybe they'll learn to appreciate fiddling like their dad. I loved the crowds and booths of artsy fartsy stuff. I get this strange rush of endorphins- weird, huh?
The tide came in while we were there and covered the tide pools we walked in and the sand bars we played in. For first-timers, we were lucky to hit it when we did.
Bye, bye sand bar
