On the Road: Philippines

Another Archipelago

During the 9 years I lived in Japan I visited a lot of Asian countries. One of them was the Philippines. But the time I spent there was not enough to keep from wanting more and several years later while looking at my travel photos, I knew I would never find peace until I went back. Here is the story of the when, the where and the how.

At Manila Airport

Touchdown

After an overnight delay in Manila I got off the plane in Puerto Princesa, the provincial capital of Palawan Island. Thanks to couchsurfing.com I'd come into contact with a local woman named Lia, and she was kind enough to show me to a cheap home stay before taking me around the small downtown area. Puerto Princesa is a little off the beaten track but some tourists still visit to see the nearby Underground River, a UNESCO World Heritage Site. It also serves as a travel hub to the popular El Nido in the north.

Though it shames me to say it, I did not do much in Puerto Princesa besides drink at the local clubs. One spot named Tiki Resto Bar catered to tourists. It had live music, pool tables, a nice bathroom, etc. But the dance floor was far too small for my liking, so before my stay in town was over I found a second better club called Gold Moon. The music there was solid, the atmosphere electric, and the dancing raw. It probably had something to do with all the ladyboys present. I hit the stage and grooved with them, because as any of my friends would know, I don't give a damn if I'm with a bunch of gay men or dancing alone--I got moves and I use them. And I was in good need of some proper clubbing after the venues I'd hit up in Indonesia. Too much top 40 music with DJs who didn't know how to let a good song play out. Either that or they spent too much time on the build up, holding off on the beats. But I digress.

I mentioned already that there was an underground river. I took a bus on a windy highway, then needed to ride a boat over choppy water. At the end of it I stood waiting beside a lagoon while passengers boarded even smaller boats to go into the cave opening. It seemed awful touristy but there was no going back. When my turn finally came, I was lucky to sit up front where I could use the big hand light they'd connected to a car battery. It provided ample illumination as we went into the cavernous tunnel. Overhead little bats clung to the ceiling, and brackish water hid murky depths below. I was impressed by the slow descent into darkness. It continued for a kilometer as our oarsman told us about the geological features and history of the river. He even knew of caves elsewhere in the world, Mammoth Caves included. That's the worlds largest cave network. It's in Kentucky and I'd gone there two years prior, so I tested his knowledge. The man knew his business. I gave praise where praise was due and then we were done. To get back to the bus stop I opted to go on foot along the coast, trekking through jungle and limestone ridges before finally coming out onto a beach where the wind swept the fatigue from my body. A perfect finish to a grand adventure.

Princess statue

Town church

Lush coast

Into the cave

Light on

Lots of Islands

Palawan is not so big when compared to the other islands in the Philippines, but it's got a lot of friends--1,780 of them to be exact. Most stretch into the sea from the northern side towards the crux of the archipelago. The town of El Nido marks the sweet spot, its name meaning "the nest" in Spanish. I had thought it had something to do with the original Spanish explorers who'd arrived in the 16th century, but it turns out the Filipinos gave it that name because the area was originally known for the bird nests found in the cliffs. Locals still collect and use them to make a kind of stew. I had no interest in trying it. Better to eat simpler fare such as noodles and fried rice.

Anyhow, there are a lot of islands right off the coast of the town. They pop out of the water in all manner of upright jaggedness, the soft limestone at their core having eroded down into imposing cliffs and peaks. They're not just there to look at either. For a reasonable fee tourists can take a tour from one little island to the next. I went on two--Tour A and Tour C. Tour A is the most popular and it ends at Seven Commandos Beach. Now picture if you will the most stunning tropical beach you've seen, be it in person or on TV. Seven Commandos Beach is a step above. It's that amazing--so much so that even with my camera skills I could not capturing its vibrant, breathtaking beauty. Still, the photos I took make a statement. Aquamarine water, white coral sand, islands on the distant horizon, palm trees swaying gently in the wind. The place was a taste of heaven on earth.

Apparently, five years ago El Nido was a sleepy fishing town yet unknown to the tourists of the world. But then it was ranked in a famous travel magazine, featured in a few movies, and voila!--tourism quickly took hold. To accommodate the sudden increase in arrivals some serious city planning came into effect. For one the town needed reliable electricity, and while brown outs still occur during the day, that issue has been largely taken care of. Hotels have also sprang up left and right with lush coastal vegetation being cleared for fancy resorts. So El Nido is now going the way of Boracay and Cebu, two big Philippine beach spots, and yet it can't be helped. For now though, the balance between development and local flavor still boils down into a pleasant travel destination. You got the boat tours during the day and some fine dining to round out the night. And then there are the bars. The oddly named Pukka Bar (foremost a reggae joint) is the place to go because it turns into a club around 11pm, and is the only place to groove. Too bad the dance floor is small there. It gets packed fast, and hot and sweaty, and with all the alcohol coming in from the bar...well, I'm sure you can imagine.

Signage

Palm trees

Seven commandos beach

Playing novuss

On Tour C

Skin boarding

El Nido waterfront

Colonized

The Spanish were the first Europeans to colonize the Philippines. They laid claim to it when Captain Magellan arrived in 1521, though the captain never made it back to Europe. He was killed by natives and another man, Juan Sebastian Elanco, finished the first circumnavigation of the world. Determined to establish a foothold in the South Pacific, the Spanish returned in force and brought the archipelago under their rule, thus uniting the islands for the first time. They evangelized the locals in the Catholic faith, and worked at driving out the Muslims that had been moving in from Borneo. Were it not for the Spanish the country would likely be predominately Islamic, much like Indonesia or Malaysia.

Spanish rule lasted over 300 years and by the end of it the Filipinos had grown weary of their foreign overlords. They started a revolutionary movement in1896 which was interrupted by the arrival of an American fleet two years later. The invaders won the subsequent Battle of Manila Bay, ousted the Spanish and transferred control of the archipelago to the US government, a move later sanctioned by the terms of the Treaty of Paris. The Filipinos first saw the Americans as liberators but soon realized one foreign power had merely replaced another. The revolutionary movement ignited anew followed by three years of bloodshed. In the end, the Americans crushed all resistance and held the Philippines as a territory until the end of WWII.

Death of Magellan

So why the history lesson? Well, to begin with, history shapes the present, and by looking back we can gain a better understanding of how things are in the modern world. The Philippines is not unique in that it was a former colony of a Western power, but it was the only sizable one in Southeast Asia to become Catholic. Moreover, the influence of prolonged Spanish and American governance Westernized the country to a larger extent than elsewhere in the region. This accounts for why English is widely spoken throughout. But there's something else beneath it all, something quite sad. The Spaniards and Americans indoctrinated the locals, leading them to believe that their practices and culture were inferior, and did so at a time when the country had not yet truly established a national identity.

Flash forward to the present. The legacy of Western dominance has created a complex among the Filipino people. They often see imported goods, services and entertainment from the West as superior, and the local economy suffers as a result. Moreover, there is a great deal of privilege Westerners enjoy in the country. They are adored and revered because it is a sign of status for Filipinos to associate with them. Now, this of course does not apply to all Filipinos. Some really don't have anything to do with foreigners whether out of shyness, disinterest or resentment, but those that show their obsession are everywhere. They won't treat Western people as gods, but you get the feeling that you are special. And whereas this is the case in many places in undeveloped countries, in the Philippines its that much more layered on, like the icing from a Filipino birthday cake.

Gone too far?

Coron

To the north of Palawan is the smaller island of Busuanga, still a part of the same province. It can be reached by ferry from El Nido in about six hours. I made the voyage and arrived in the port town of Coron mid-afternoon. Like El Nido before it, the area had countless limestone islands dotting the surrounding sea, but was a quieter place with less tourists and many traditional style homes built on stilts over the water. Behind the town rose a hill with the letters C-O-R-O-N set up Hollywood style. A stairway lead to the top where a panoramic view of the sea also awaited visitors.

I went on an island tour and was pleased to find that even the snorkeling was exceptional. Whereas in El Nido most the corals had died, they were still in pristine condition around Busuanga. But the real draw was a number of Japanese ships that had sunk during WWII. The sea was not so deep and many of the wrecks were within 40m of the surface. I went to three with a diving company. The third dive of the day, the Olympia Maru, was the most impressive. US planes had torpedoed it yet the hull still remained largely intact. Our guide took us in and led us through the many compartments of the cargo ship including its boiler room. The passages were labyrinthine and at times we become separated from one another, this in spite of having flash lights. Other divers had converged on the spot as well, making it difficult to tell who was who underwater.

Healthy corals

Another tour

Another island beach

On the dive boat

A French guy I met, Pierre, and myself rented motorbikes to see what was north of Coron. About 10km outside the town the vehicles became few and we cruised along, then at one point stopped to see an elementary school. Further north we came across a waterfall. It was nothing to write about, though the journey was worth the effort because we could see the countryside. On the way back we were also fortunate to catch a cockfight. The two handlers kissed their roosters for good luck, and then unleashed them in the ring. The fight did not last long. Each bird had a two inch metal spur attached to its right leg, and one solid stab from the victor quickly killed the loser. The men who had gathered around gave off mixed reactions depending on which way they had bet.

Me and Pierre also went out for drinks, and a Filipino guy joined us. He was in Busuanga for work, but had the evenings free. He told me he was a supervisor for road construction and traveled often to approve the budgets for work done on the National Highway system. This put him in a privileged situation because he decided if roads were going to get paved or not, which in turn was vital for the growth and development of rural areas. And for his approval he readily accepted kickbacks. Corruption such as this is commonplace in the Philippines and the man was doing what anyone would in his position. He was also happy to spread his money around and paid for everyone who sat at our table. While we chatted he provided a lot of insight into the culture and how the country operates bureaucratically. I could write a whole other segment about it, but it's a sad affair.

School kids

To the death

From above

Trikes on the road

 Mass Tourism

Tourism. It's big now. Most destinations you have heard of are inundated with fresh arrivals trying to enjoy whatever a place has to offer. Believe me. My eyes have seen these people across the globe and though they tend to be on the young adult side, you have all types including families and elderly couples. Depending on the destination they might be from within the same country, but many fly in from overseas because the disparity of wealth in the world makes it easy for say a European or Australian to live it up for a week in Vietnam.

Frequent flights to these popular places, developing tourist infrastructure, and a never ending flow of willing visitors all amount to one thing--mass tourism. And in my case I have a love hate relationship with it. On the one hand I'd like to think I'm better than the majority of other tourist, that I try to connect with locals, learn about the culture and history, and most importantly, be a respectful visitor who gives something back. But I'd be a hypocrite to say so. There are as many times that I ignore locals, and God knows how many nights I've gotten drunk and thrown my money around. How that factors in with the good things--the volunteer work, going to museums to actually read the displays, sharing a smile with a stranger--I'm not sure. I guess it's a little bit of give and take.

At the same time I must face up to the fact that I am part of a larger problem. Mass tourism forever alters the places it touches. It doesn't matter if the locals want it or not, prices go up, and traditional types of work such as small scale farming become impractical because they can no longer provide a viable wage. So often the locals are forced into the tourist business, but few enter it as self-made entrepreneurs. Rather they work under those who have always had the money and then put in long hours to barely get by. So they're not exactly better off than before, though sometimes there are the small time business owners too. Yet they all compete against one another and become more aggressive trying to get money from the same tourists.

Visitors often gawk at touts, loud shop owners, and the like, and then turn a blind eye with nose turned upward. Well, the truth is these local hustlers are there because people from a foreign land started coming in large numbers with a lot of disposable cash. That changed everything. In short, it is a privilege tourists exercise which these locals will never be able to reciprocate because they haven't the means. So I'm disgusted by the indifference of many tourists. I don't care if someone is a tuk-tuk driver or a drug dealer, when they offer me their service or goods, I look them in the eye, smile and give a firm "no thanks." That simple acknowledgement is something, because everyone is trying to make a living and they deserve a bit of dignity now and then.

Beggars are another matter. They have nothing to offer, and to worsen matters, they can be very persistent. But again, they exist en masse for the same reasons as touts. The disparity of wealth in the world has created those who have and those who do not. So who else are they going to look to for a hand out? Still, I do not encourage them. A brief look in the eye and an "I'm sorry, no," is what I say. After that I'm a cold, expressionless robot. That's what it takes to push those types away.

Phallic souvenirs 

Still Ferrying

First Palawan, then Busuanga, and after that the island of Mindoro. It took another six hours by ferry to arrive at San Jose, a port city considerably larger than anything I'd seen since Puerto Princesa. I did not linger. A shuttle bus, and another three hours got me to another seaside town, but one that serves as a gateway to Apo Reef, the world's largest after the Great Barrier Reef in Australia. I had considered diving but soon discovered what it would cost me. In Coron I'd paid $60 for a three dives, but at Apo Reef it was triple that amount. And besides, there were other things to do in the area, and what's more, the town of Sablayan had a laid back atmosphere with few foreign visitors.

First up was a trip to Sablayan Prison Farm some 20km north of the town. It was the first prison I'd ever heard of that welcomed tourists. After cruising the pleasant coastal highway by motorbike, I found the prison entrance. The local authorities made me sign a waiver stating that I would meet the inmates at my own risk. Only then could I enter one of the compounds. The prisoners were mostly transfers from Bilibid Prison in Manila. That's the worlds largest high security prison with over 20,000 of society's worst. Needless to say, it's an overpopulated hell hole, and anyone would be lucky to be sent elsewhere, which is why the inmates at Sablayan were well behaved. One slip up and they could be sent back.

Town bridge

Tropical produce

Barbed wire everywhere

My guide 

Off to work

To pass their time the inmates did farming within the colony. In between work duties they could watch TV, play billiards or loiter around the yard smoking and chatting. The longterm inmates watched over the others, and one of them took me on a hike in the nearby hills. Apparently, the surrounding jungle had many tropical birds which tourists came to see. But for me it was a hot, sweaty, bug infested trek, and at my behest we soon returned. Once back at the compound I asked my guide why he was in prison. He replied that he had stabbed a man to death. Then I asked another inmate guard what his story was. I got the same answer. From what I gathered most the men's crimes were gang related and if it wasn't murder, it was rape or robbery that had got them locked up. But for guys with such a dark past they were quite approachable and friendly.

The second interesting place I went to was Pandan Island. It was right off the coast from Sablayan's port, and for $5, local fishermen happily ferried passengers across. The island was small and its few inhabitants occupied a small stretch on the side facing the mainland where they staffed a local resort. I'd gone with an Irish guy and we rented fins and a mask for snorkeling, and right off the shore was a flat ocean floor covered with seagrass. Sea turtles came to eat the grass and it it possible observe them close up as they were mostly stationary. They were cute, almost alien-like creatures who glided through the water with graceful ease. Later, the Irish guy and I went for a hike through a forested path to reach a secluded lagoon before topping off the day with a beer at the bar.

The Irishman

Place to relax

Hidden lagoon

Coming back

Dominic

My last stop in the Philippines was back on the big island of Luzon. Some seven hours north of Manila by bus is the coastal town of San Juan. It is there that my good friend Dominic lives. We'd first met years before when we moved into the same guest house in Tokyo. His room was the one next to mine. I recall that Dominic didn't work often so he was partying until late at night. The noise never bothered me though making me an ideal neighbor. Anyhow, I left Tokyo after a year, and Dominic eventually went to Australia. We would not meet again for another eight years. Taking the bus to San Juan, I did not know what to expect. All I knew was we would finally have time to catch up.

I took it in all so fast. Dominic had done well for himself. He'd travelled extensively, spending over half a year in places like India, Sri Lanka, Australia and the Philippines, and it was the latter that charmed him into staying for good. He rented an apartment on the beach, surfed often and enjoyed the good life. This is where I came into the picture. In his spacious apartment he had a room and cold beer waiting. We talked in his dining area while his girlfriend cooked, and after a half hour or so, it was just like old times. Dominic still had his way of over talking, taking ages to get to a point, but what he said was so damn interesting you could listen to the guy for hours.

An interesting thing about Dominic is that he is content to forever lead the life of a bachelor. So even now, at the ripe old age of 47 he has no intention to marry. For one he thinks everything is going to shit and doesn't want to bring any more kids into an already overpopulated world. Second, he has income from an inheritance that allows him to live comfortably without having to work again, granted he never has to look after anyone other than himself. But getting by in such a manner can be a little empty. The man admitted himself that he needed to focus his energies on something meaningful, and for Dominic that is writing. With all his insane stories, and cutting insight into human nature I'm certain he has a good novel in him. But I warned Dominic--writing is no simple undertaking. It takes a lot of effort to hone one's skills and create decent output  I do wish him the best of luck though, and once he's done, I'd love to read the results.

Dominic's pad

Together at last

The Oldest Profession

San Juan is a strange place. On the one hand it is a small town where foreign tourists and Filipinos from Manila learn to surf. The beach is of golden sand, the waves are consistent for half the year, and along the shore, bars, restaurants and hotels create a pleasant atmosphere. Best of all, there's not too much development to make it feel touristy. For that reason a lot of foreigners have made it their home away from home. That said the expat community is the 40+ crowd, and there's one other big draw that keeps them coming--the ladies.

Prostitution is something I avoid. The whole idea of sex for money is a big turn off for me. If I'm with a woman I want her to be interested in me for who I am and not for the contents of my wallet. But not everyone is like me. In San Juan a lot of Dominic's acquaintances had no qualms over paying cash to spend time with younger women. And because I was hanging out with them I got some major insight into the world of the Filipina "girlfriend experience." The hook up usually begins at a girly bar. The scantily clad ladies zone in on the old guys who show up, and old they are, white haired and sometimes leaning on a cane. A lady will cling to an arm and make small talk while the man buys her drinks. If the man likes the girl he can offer to pay her bar fine. This is a sum of money that frees her up from work for the rest of the night. What happens next is often viagra and sex. It might mean more too. The guy could continue seeing the girl for an extended period, making her a type of escort/girlfriend. But here's the catch. If a girl does not feel comfortable with a guy she can refuse to be bar fined. She'll lose out on the money, but it gives the prostitute some control over how she goes about their work.

I am not one to judge. Unlike me, not everyone was born into a loving family, cared for, and well educated. So I was lucky in this regard. But on the other end of the social spectrum you have many Filipinas who come from poor families and have no other way to support themselves. To complicate matters the girls often have children young. In the Philippines there is no legal way to have an abortion to circumvent this problem. The Catholic government is also against contraception and though they sell condoms a single rubber goes for a dollar a piece making it unrealistic for many Filipinos to use them regularly. The result is a lot of single mothers, and some of them become prostitutes. Let's look at an example, a woman I met named Kaylee (not her real name).

Raised in a family with one daughter too many Kaylee was forced into prostitution at the age of 13. Not too long afterwards she became pregnant by a Canadian who left the country and cut all ties. Poor Kaylee was too young to be a mother. She gave the child up for adoption and then still had to work to survive, at which point an expat Australian became smitten with her. She told him where she stood, and that if he was serious he would look after her. He agreed. He disregarded her past and married her, and for a while things were good. But the Australian had not taken good care of himself. He was only in his mid-fifties and a heart attack struck. Dominic was there. He gave him CPR, and still the man died in his arms. So Kaylee's life came crashing down. And there she was with a second newborn who had a congenital defect requiring surgery. Dominic and a number of other expats took pity on them. They gave money to see that the baby was taken care of and for Kaylee it came as a kind of windfall. For once in her life she had cash, and lots of it. She spent the money buying nice clothes and getting drunk.  After that everyone spurned her and she fast became an emotional, alcohlic wreck. Yet she is still out there looking for that next guy. But maybe it's too late. She is damaged goods. And only at the age of 20. That is the life of a prostitute.

Ok. Not every one of these girls has such a sad sob story. Some are decent, good natured women temporarily compromising their values to make ends meet. But it's still an ugly business. Not that the old guys care. They're jaded by the cynicism of aging, past divorces, crappy jobs, and years of loneliness. But once they set foot in the Philippines something good falls right into their lap--a young woman who will make them feel incredible again. That I suppose trumps everything.

Young ladies

Fun in the sun

Day's end

Going Strong

Well, there you have it. Another peek into a far off corner of the world. And admittedly, it's been somewhat of a mixed look. So I'll close things out on a high note. The Philippines is an amazing destination, from the people to the culture to the incredible scenery. And yes, I've said the same before about other countries, and it's because there are a million wonderful places out there and discovering them is the beauty of travel. But for me the Philippines stands out above all other Southeast Asian countries. I love it that much.

With February behind me I'm now in another place--Cambodia. It's only the third country on this trip, yet at this point it feels like I've been traveling for ages. For this type of thing, I'm not young either. Almost all other travelers I meet who are on the road longterm are in their twenties. "But so what?" I say. I'm determined to see more of the world. This is my time to shine. 

Got to keep moving