The Philippines - Chapter Two - A River Cruise, Shy Primates, and My Hill Obsession

Day #2 arrives. Time for a shower.

The shower head worked the first day. For the rest of the time, the bottom spigot and the bucket became my shower.

I meet up with Abel and family, and off we go. The ride is entertaining, with Bluey teaching me how to play Plague Inc. With Bluey's help, I successfully create a disease to destroy the human race! (Sorry, everyone.)

Anyway...stop number one: Loboc River Cruise

I join the Damalerio's as we step onto a boat. After several more passengers board (including a few Koreans, who probably don't notice me kind of eavesdropping), off we go.

Again, so much food. This time, we have live music to accompany the meal and the ride.

Abel is too wise to let a photo op distract him from good food.

From left: Bluey, Pinky, Daryl, Abel, me, and Alan

The views are beautiful. I just look and enjoy relaxing with the crew.

Credit for many of these awesome photos goes to Abel.

Cheska, Daryl, Abel, and Miguel

Cheska, Miguel, and my plague specialist Bluey

Standing: Daryl, me, Cheska, Abel, Miguel, Alan, Bluey. Sitting: Pinky

It gets better. We stop at a dock and watch a very cool Filipino performance.

They even let us in on the fun!

Off we go, back to the main dock. I am soaking up this amazing experience. 

At the same time, I'm reminded of the impact the earthquake has had.

Another reminder of the quake.

Next up: The Hanging Bridges of Sevilla

Our next challenge lies ahead...we have to cross turbulent waters on a tightrope. Twice. Don't worry, it isn't as scary as it sounds, because by turbulent waters I mean a mellow river, and by tightrope, I mean twin bamboo bridges.

We survive. We continue.

Now arriving at: Tarsier Conservation Area

We take a little walk to find everyone's favorite haplorrhine primate, the tarsier. The critters are shy today.

Oh well. We aren't shy.

Around the corner: Chocolate Hills

We approach the parking lot for the Chocolate Hills and I'm flipping out (and trying to do it silently). When I first met Abel, he showed me pictures of the Chocolate Hills. Through the miracles of geology, hundreds of hills were formed in the middle of Bohol. In the dry season, they turn brown...thus the moniker.

I've mentioned on this blog that I have an odd love of hills, so I was really excited about this. After a trek up some stairs, I take stock of the surroundings.

People. Hills for miles.

We head down the stairs, but our time with the Chocolate Hills is not even close to done.

Coming your way: Chocolate Hills Adventure Park

As you may have noticed, the day was cloudy. By the time we leave the viewing deck and arrive at the adventure park, the skies have worked themselves into a veritable drizzle. But we press on over treacherous bridges.

Not all is threatening...

One more shot of the vista...I can't help it!

Then we encounter the ultimate challenge. The bicycle zip-line awaits.

I accept.

Honest review: It was a cool photo op, and the view was awesome, but the rain and wind pushed me to get done quicker than I would have wanted to.

At this point, we're either soaked or getting close to it. Back to the van we go.

We return to Casa de Damalerio for dinner. As we eat dinner, a stray dog continuously tries to help himself to some food by strutting into the house. Each time, he's shooed away. Brazen fella, but he's persistent. You've gotta admire that.

After shooting the breeze, Abel takes me back to the hostel. Another awesome day is in the books, and I'm loving the Bohol experience.

Little did I know that the rain we experienced earlier would become a bit more of a nuisance than anticipated, but I'll save that story for the next entry. Ingat (take care) until then!

The Philippines - Chapter One - A Blood Compact, a Sea Urchin, and a Roasted Pig

After an uneventful hour-long flight, the plane lands on a narrow strip of tarmac. The plane comes to a stop, and within minutes, we disembark. I walk down the mobile stairway and turn around to find a warehouse-sized building. This, friends, is the airport.

It's amazing. I walk to the entrance, where both the luggage carousel and the exit are visible. Also visible: Abeleon Damalerio.

Let's revert to days gone by in order to learn about how I know Abeleon, who I'll be calling Abel from here on out. I met Abel in 2010 when I worked for ACYPL. Abel came to the US with the same group as Kirk, mentioned in a previous post. Abel is an amazing human being. One of my favorite memories from working at ACYPL was when he spent some time showing me pictures of his family. It was his first trip outside of the Philippines, and I could tell that he was eager to get back with them. For me, it was so meaningful that he shared this information. He invited me to visit him in Bohol, and I told myself that I would get there somehow.

Back to 2014. I'm in Bohol. Abel is standing in the same corridor as the entrance, luggage carousel, and the exit. It is a joyous reunion.

We leave the airport and head to the hostel. Driving through Tagbilaran, it's very clear that this is a small city, especially compared to the skyscrapers and sprawl of Manila. I check into my hostel and rejoin Abel. We head to his home where I meet his wife, Daryl, and his children, Cheska, Miguel, Joaquin, and Lyza. A few family members, Alan, Pinky, and Bluey, have come from Houston. I meet them, and I'm amazed that I've been allowed to be part of the family reunion.

After some chitchat, we're off. Abel, Daryl, and I embark on an epic sightseeing journey of Tagbilaran. This place is full of amazing history and vistas.

First stop: Sandugo Monument.

Sandugo means blood compact. In 1565, according to the Wikis, Spanish explorer Miguel Lopez de Legaspi and Bohol chieftain Datu Sikatuna sat together, cut their left wrists, put some of the blood in each other's wine cups, and drank it. Maybe they were afraid of shaking hands, because, you know, germs. Each year, there's a festival to commemorate the event.

That gentleman on the left is Abel.

Next stop: Baclayon Church,

In 2013, Bohol was hit hard by a 7.2 magnitude earthquake. Around 200 people were killed, and many buildings were seriously damaged. Baclayon Church was one of them.

These stones, used to build the church hundreds of years ago, were loosened from the quake.

Coming up: Panglao Beach

Before coming to the Philippines, one of my hopes was to visit at least one beach. This hope became a reality much sooner than I expected.

We venture onto a small peninsula, take a left, and...voila.

As we eat lunch by this beach, I am transfixed. Abel suggests that I go swimming. I would love to, but alas, my swimsuit is back at the hostel. "No problem," Abel says, "we can get one here." Within minutes, I have a new pair of board shorts and I'm off to the water. Minus the sea urchin spines that found their way into my hand, it's a blissful two hours of swimming and wandering.

Don't look now: Hinagdanan Cave

After relaxing at the beach, we head to the other side of the peninsula to a cave. Hinagdanan Cave was discovered by a farmer who kept seeing swallows fly into the ground...turns out, they were flying into this cave and roosting in the roof!

The cave includes a beautiful lagoon where freshwater meets saltwater. To my delight, people can swim in, and dive into, the lagoon. Since Abel insisted that I try both (really, I didn't need much pushing), I did.

For a few moments, I wondered about how much swallow poop was floating in the water. Then I realized that it was time to enjoy the moment, droppings notwithstanding.

The sightseeing continues.

Another church damaged by the 2013 earthquake.

Truly notable: This restroom, at a Shell gas station in Tagbilaran, looks like a lobby in an upscale doctor's office. Restrooms in the Philippines are called comfort rooms, but none are as comfortable as this one!

Later that evening, I join Abel and family at a combined birthday party for Abel's son Miguel and...Abel's niece (can't recall her name). We go to Ae's (Abel's brother) home, where I'm greeted by the family and a glorious spread of food.

See that pig at the end? It's called lechon. Guess who got the first chunk of it?

Me.

Clearly, I was prepared for this moment.

Alan and Ae encourage me from the left, while Abel offers moral support from the right.

Eating happens. Chatting happens. This picture happens.

Damalerio family...I fit right in, even if I don't look like it.

I come back to the hostel after a full, amazing day. I take a shower. There is no hot water, and I couldn't be happier.

Yep. This was one day. More to come.

The Philippines - Prologue - Valuable Lessons

Before too much time passes (it's already been over a month), I want to write about my trip to the Philippines. It was, in a word, amazing. I have a feeling that the fingers are going to be in hyper-type mode, so I'll discuss the trip in sections.

I'm also going to try something a bit different with this entry...see if you can figure out what it is.

On the morning of December 26, I get up, grab my luggage and coat (knowing that the only time I'll use the coat is on the commute between Incheon Airport and my home), and head out. After I arrive at the airport, I exchange money and head to a longer-than anticipated security line. Thankfully, I get to the plane, a bit rushed, but with no problems.

The flight lasts an uneventful four hours. As the plane begins its descent, I look out the window and notice forested mountains and a multicolored patchwork on the valley. The colors are made by buildings...hundreds of small buildings crammed together in thin strips of land. It's as if someone dropped a million soda cans into a small stream. I recall stories I've heard about poverty in the Philippines, and the plane goes on.

The plane touches down. I depart with my backpack and carry-on, go through immigration, and am greeted by this:

Just to be clear, they're not there to greet just me. It was just a cool thing to see at an airport.

I've booked a budget hotel for the night, so now I just need to find a way to get there. I struggle a bit with the wifi, so I decide to just go find a taxi since I have the address.

I ask the attendant at the guest services desk where I can find a taxi. He calls a man over who insists on taking my carry-on bag for me. I follow him outside, engaging in friendly chitchat. The view outside includes a Philippine flag and a Christmas tree. Though I would later find out that both of these were in large supply in the Philippines, I take a picture just because.

The woman in the picture asks where I am going. I show her the hotel name, and she pages someone on her walkie-talkie. She writes up a receipt and says "1800 pesos, sir." I dig for some money and give it to her. I figure I ought to tip the gentleman for helping me, so I hand him some money too..,1000 pesos, which happens to be the smallest bill I have at the moment.

Along comes the taxi, and off we go. As I look on at the city, with top class hotels adjacent to shanties, I think, "How much money did I just spend?"

Later on, I do the math. 1800 pesos = ~$40, and 1000 pesos = ~$20. The taxi ride takes about 15 minutes (the trip is about 2-3 miles), and I later find out that it's a "luxury cab," much pricier than a typical taxi.

Essentially, I gave a dude $20 for taking my rolling suitcase 100 feet, and I paid $40 for a short cab ride.

The lessons here?

1. When transferring currency, request several small bills. You never know when someone won't have change. Don't get me wrong, the bag man was nice, but a smaller tip would have been appropriate.
2. Ask the hotel for a shuttle before arriving, then there's no risk of getting taken for a pricey ride.

Also, I don't have hard feelings for the bag man or the cab call woman. For all they know, I have cash to burn.

Anyhow, I get to the hotel. I notice how warm and humid the weather is. I definitely won't be needing that coat. The staff is very helpful, and they help me arrange a shuttle to the airport the next morning (though I arrived in Manila, my first actual destination is elsewhere, but I can't get there till the next morning). I'm led to my room:

That AC unit is blasting its heart out, but the air at the top of those stairs (where, incidentally, the bed is located) is jungle hot. Oh well. I run out, grab a few supplies, get a massage ($10! Not bad), shower, and hit the hay.

After a night in the sauna, I get up early, wake up the desk attendant, and check out. I ask the taxi to take me to the airport, terminal 2 (I believe). I've double checked which planes go to which city, so I'm feeling confident.

For a much lower price than I had paid the previous cab, I got to the airport. I speak with a security guard to make sure I'm at the right terminal.

I am...not.

It turns out that my source of information was a document for one airline, and that airline was not the one I was supposed to take. I find a taxi and ask the driver to take me to terminal 4.

I recall the horror stories I've read/heard about the inconvenience of getting between terminals at the Manila Ninoy Aquino Airport. "How far is this other terminal?" I think. Thankfully, it's only 5 minutes away. The terminal is quite small. After going through security and checking in, I pay a terminal exit fee. Any time someone take a flight in the Philippines, domestic or international, they pay this fee. The fee isn't too high, but it's definitely different.

I grab some breakfast and eventually step outside to board the plane...

Next stop: Tagbilaran!

Thanksgiving, Christmas, and reunions

Yes, yes...I know. We are already in the 2nd month of the 2015th year. If you do the math, I'm behind on blogging.

That said, I wanted to say a few words about my first time experiencing these holidays outside of the US. In a few ways, it was weird. I've always celebrated Thanksgiving on a Thursday, even as a missionary. Here, work went on as normal.

Mostly, however, the holidays were a fantastic experience here. On Thanksgiving night, my awesome coworker Lani came with me to dinner at a Thai restaurant. I celebrated the coming of the Pilgrims to the New World by eating panang curry.

However, I was able to indulge in an American Thanksgiving dinner over the weekend. A family in the local LDS branch (small congregation), the Jansens, invited several people over to eat, and it was fantastic. Thanks to the military commissary and a few helpful people, I was able to get ingredients for my mom's famous chocolate peanut butter pie. The pie worked its magic on this side of the Pacific, receiving rave reviews from the partakers.

Quick digression: On the way to the military base (where we were having dinner), we were delayed by a LARGE group of protesters who walked ahead of us. There must have been a few hundred. I asked what they were protesting, and someone said that they wanted the military base (as in the one we were walking to) out of Seoul. For a few moments, I thought about trying to squeeze past all of these people to get into the base, and it was an awkward image. Thankfully, they had moved on by the time we got to the base...but look at this crowd!

Pictured: People who I thought were going to be clogging the base entrance.

Okay, back to food...

I was so excited to eat this that I did not care one bit about how blurry the picture turned out.

December reminded me of Decembers past: Jam-packed weekends. There was a shindig here and an errand there. I'm thankful to say that I wasn't at a loss for company throughout the season. There were plenty of chances to spend time with others...and many more awesome decorations than I thought there would be.

Christmas meets Boxing Day.

First big snowfall in Korea. It was WAY slippery here in Pyeongtaek.

Decorating the branch president's Christmas tree

Simon and Jessica - two of my favorite students

I got to see the Nutcracker Suite (first time!) and pose with the Rat King. Legit.

My students treated me to lunch. I'm really glad these guys are around: Lee, Chris, and Hyunmi

I went to lunch on Christmas Day (in Korea, Christmas is a day to go out and eat/shop/consume, not to stay at home) with Hyunmi and her husband Seungbum. We had some awesome Italian food! Grazie!

Christmas dinner spread

Merry Christmas! (A few months late, I know. Don't be a scrooge.)

Before I wrap up, I'll mention that I, happily, was able to meet some long lost friends in Korea during this two month span.

To my left is Fairuz Syafari, who I met during an ACYPL exchange program in 2012. Fairuz is from Indonesia, and she was in Korea for work. Fairuz was (and still is) sweet and humble. She claims to have enjoyed the cool Korean air. She left me with a parting gift of dried breadfruit, which was delicious.

Kirk Asis and April Dayap, who I also met via ACYPL exchange programs to the US (2010 and 2012, respectively), came from the Philippines for a vacation to Korea. It was great to see these guys again. When I first met Kirk, he was really shy...he's much more talkative now! April is as lovely and fantastic as ever.

The first time I met Nopthee (who also goes by the nickname Otto) was during my first trip to Korea in 2012. We stayed in the same hostel, and we stayed in touch from that point on. He was visiting from Thailand, and he made me promise to come visit. Don't worry Otto...I'm on the way!

Alright. There's a lot more catching up to do, but I'll save that for another day. This post was a nice one to type out for me, because even if I haven't communicated it properly, I've been really fortunate to know some great people who have helped me to not feel so far from home. That's been pretty awesome.

The Man Who Escaped from Camp 14

Okay, first off, I acknowledge that I've experienced Thanksgiving in Korea, and I'm about to experience my first Christmas in Korea. I have intentions to blog about all that (we'll see what becomes of these intentions). :)

This weekend, I thought I'd write about something quite different.

Several months ago, I purchased this book and read it. It's the story of Shin Dong-hyuk, who is (at the time of this post) the only known man to have escaped from a prison camp in North Korea. I highly recommend it. It's not a happy book, but it is insightful. It helped me think about how several things that I take for granted, such as the freedom to choose what I eat and to form emotional connections with other human beings. Shin Dong-hyuk had neither of those while he lived in the camp.

One thing that struck me was a confession that took place before the book was published. Initially, Shin had said one thing about his role in the deaths of his mother and brother. Later on, the story changed, and the author found out more about Shin's role in their executions. To me, it seemed that Shin's decision to not initially reveal all was connected to Shin's inability to trust people as he was growing up. He and the other prisoners lived in constant fear of being attacked, tortured, and killed by the prison guards. During his 20+ years in the camp, there were two people that he was able to form any sort of friendship with (neither of those two people were family members. One was a fellow inmate while Shin was in prison, and one was a coworker at a sewing factory). I feel like it would be very difficult to trust anyone and be honest/forthright if I had grown up in those circumstances.

On a similar note, Shin learned how to feel love long after his teenage years. With this, he also learned to feel guilt. In the camp, he did certain things out of self-preservation; years afterwards, he realized how some of those decisions resulted in death for other people. I can't imagine the burden that this poor man must carry.

Well, Shin came to Seoul for an open discussion this past weekend.

With the help of an interpreter, Shin spoke about the situation of prisoners in North Korea and encouraged the audience to raise our voices in protest of the camps. Seeing him in person was a surreal experience.

We then watched a documentary based on the book.

The documentary contained interviews with Shin as well as two former North Korean prison guards. Though I did learn some chilling insights about the callous nature in which the guards treated the prisoners, and though there were parts of the documentary that helped illustrate the conditions Shin lived in, I can't recommend this documentary as strongly as I can the book. Reasons: several longer-than-necessary pauses, and (perhaps the strongest reason) I felt like Shin's privacy was being invaded by the makers of this documentary.

I'm not sure what I was expecting from going to this discussion/movie, but my takeaway was this:

Shin must be, in every way possible, tired.

• He must be tired from his childhood and adolescent experiences in a place where he had zero freedom.
• He must be tired from the very risky journey he took, though it was almost ten years ago, from within the camp to outside of the camp to China to South Korea.
• He must be tired from going from a reality where everything is dictated to him to a completely opposite where competition and materialism are the norms.
• He must be tired of having to dig into his memory, retelling horrendous experiences in order to answer questions from people who are likely complete strangers.
• He must be tired of the intense attention he has received. He seems to be a celebrity that had "fame" forced upon him due to his unimaginable upbringing.

In no way do I mean to minimize the suffering that is happening in the North Korean camps as I type this entry. I hope Shin's words are part of a solution to the human rights abuses happening there. 

At the same time, I hope Shin doesn't feel forced to relive his past over and over because he feels compelled by X organization to speak about them.

Most of all, I hope he's able to find some peace and meaning in his own life.