Tell you what, though, let’s start with Boracay. For those of you who haven’t heard about the place, it’s where you find the trophy beach of the Philippines, the place people flock to. It’s a small island at about 7 x 1 km in the central area of the Philippines, the Visayas, about 300 km south of Manila. As you saw earlier, getting to the place by the land-sea route is a hassle, but definitely worth taking in order to get a good ground-level perspective of the country, which we did. For such a small island, though, Boracay is absolutely packed with restaurants, hotels, shops, etc., all concentrated on a single 3 km strip called White Beach (the island’s west coast). If it’s a quiet place you’re looking for if you ever visit the Philippines, look someplace else – we arrived as the low season was setting in, and the place still had plenty of people. But hey, that suited me fine. During the low season prices drop so we had sweet accommodation for no more than 1000 pesos a night at an airconditioned bungalow. So, we came in by outrigger boat (called a bangka), settled down quickly after finding the place, and were then set to slam the beaches hard.
We had to wait a little bit before we were able to do that, however. Like, two entire days. See, the funny thing about the low season at Boracay is that it also starts at about the same time as the wet and typhoon seasons set in, heh. We felt a little bit of that when we came. It turns out a tropical storm (not a full-blown typhoon, as we originally feared) was hitting southeast Luzon at about the same time as we arrived, and we were feeling a little bit of its outer arms. It wasn’t too bad though, despite having to stay inside the whole time. Just straight up constant downpours without heavy winds or thunder and lightning. The people at the storm’s epicenter were the ones who must have really felt shitty. Not only was the storm hitting them full on, but a volcano was on eruption alert at the same time. Glad I wasn’t there.
Two days spent chilling inside, then. When the weather cleared up again we roused ourselves to do some activity. We…
… ate. Western, Filipino, Spanish, French, Mongolian, Chinese, Korean, Indian cuisines and plenty more comprised the variety of foodin’ on offer, and a-foodin’ we went. I personally ate out thrice a day at least. Ah, good times.
… swam. In addition to the beach, the place we stayed had a swimming pool, so I managed to get a few laps done.
… went boating. I’ll put up some pictures shortly to show you guys. It was sweet – one day the weather was great so we decided to do an island tour with snorkeling, lunch and cave exploring included in the price. The fucked up thing was that Jay got zero sunburn that day while my own arms turned a healthy deep brown-red color. I don’t get it. Jacob just seems better adapted to the tropics than me. On another note, I had plans to get a diving certificate in Boracay but here the prices stopped me – at USD 375 for a four-day course, I had to say no. I had 5 months houserent plus 2 months deposit to pay all at once before July 1st so I couldn’t splash out like that. Snorkeling was the closest I got to swimming with the fish.
… watched some World Cup action. Games are on at 11 pm and 3 am here, and while we never caught any of the early morning games we did see a couple of the evening ones at our favorite haunt, the Wreck Bar, which was quite popular – seats and tables were reserved in advance for the games.
… went parasailing. Well, just me. Jay was too damn chicken to try. As with the boat trip, I’ll put up some pics to show you guys.
… drank. San Mig, baby, San Mig!
… went clubbing. Well, just once. That was, er, enough for me. I’ll tell you why shortly. One day Jacob and I decided to check out what the place had in the way of nightlife, and sure enough there were a couple of clubs around so we picked a place out, one called Coco Mongo’s. Just one look inside, and I just knew I’d come to enjoy the clubbing scene in the Phillies… ladies and gentlemen, there is no sickening europop of any sort here, only – and I say this with a smile – straight-up hiphop. The fellas all have their basketball jerseys on, and the fine-looking hunnys grind and work it to various remixes of Crazy in Love. However, and this is a big however, they also ‘work it’ in various other ways as I found out (at this particular club at least). No sooner had I relocated myself to sit at another bar to gain a better view of the goodies than some sleazy guy approaches me from the corner of my eye, not looking at me while he speaks.
“You want a girl?”
Eyes wide. Realization sets in. Then a smirk, as I turn and decide to sate my curiosity. The guy introduces himself as an ‘agent’, and while I let him do his sales pitch and hear him out, I nudge Jay and give him a heads-up, suppressing a chuckle. I steer the conversation with sleazebag away to other things, such as what the locals are into in the way of illicits, at which point the guy shakes his head and quotes a price higher than company for the night, for tiny quantities of stuff. “It’s very difficult.” He explains. I thought as much, considering that any smuggling into the country is punishable by death. Still, what he said was enlightening, and the conversation ended with him slipping me his cell number which I later threw out.
That wasn’t the last of the fun surprises that night. I wasn’t deterred from checking out the working ladies going all-action on the dancefloor, and at some point during the night I was approached. Except it wasn’t by a girl. Well, it was supposed to look like one. The guy/girl wasn’t all that dressed up, but no mistaking it, this was one of the ladyboys I had heard about before coming here. Oh, he/she was real sweet, very good at giving the doe-eyes and occasionally reaching out for a shoulder touch, but no less sleazy than the guy before. To my amusement, he/she was looking to clinch a deal, ANY kind of deal. First, he/she offered him/herself. When I explained the way I tick, he/she called over a friend, and I was briefly introduced to Grace before she hurried off again as the deejay began playing My Humps. Wistfully watching her departing figure, I turned back and did some serious evasive maneuvering, much to the ladyboy’s well-hidden irritation. He/she grew increasingly desperate as the night wore on, finally resorting to offer me… a boat trip. I kept a straight face as I remained noncommittal, though if he/she had pulled out a basket full of tourist souvenir articles right there, I would have bought a couple of trinkets to keep him/her happy. Well, the place closed at 4 AM and I was weary of dodging pimps, so I took a tricycle home giving the working girls one last pouting glance.
And Jacob? Heeheehee…. He decided to stay on a little bit. He fell into conversation with a Fil-Am (Filipino-American) and his American buddy, and went with them after the club closed to… a karaoke bar! I only heard about it the following day, but when I did, I almost died. Apparently he was talked into, or was piss drunk enough to (I suspect the latter) sing along to “The Final Countdown”. How’s that for an enduring image of pure horror etched into your brain, eh?
One last note before I take off for now: I have only hinted at how capital-starved this country is in the above. The Philippines is a buyer’s market. Anything and everything is for sale if you have the coin, in a manner that honestly troubles and unsettles me deep inside. Coming back here after so many years, it’s a facet of life I’m still not sure how to form an opinion on. I at least am SO very thankful I am able to blend in with the crowd in this country if I walk alone, to the point where people speak Tagalog to me directly assuming I know the language. If I’m with Jacob, we are harassed every single moment by vendors selling whatever it is they sell. Every moment, I’m not bloody kidding.
Hugz and hand signs,
-D.
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