Whilst
at Shiera's parent's stall in the market, the 'Gamecock' man came by,
carrying his two boxes of knife spurs
that are tied to the legs of the fighting cocks. He makes a fair living out of
setting up the fights and attaching his knives. He carried them like a surgeon
carrying his operating tools. There are meetings at Silang Sports Centre 5 days
a week. Gambling is a part of Filipino culture…Gamecocks, Spiders, Beetles,
Stag horn/Uwang-Uwang beetles; they will race anything, and are very serious
about it.
Sat
on the stall selling stuff, calling 'Bili na' to passers by, which means 'Buy from me'. Always fun as
they never see a foreigner doing this, so it attracts some attention.
The
rest of the day was spent house hunting; didn’t
succeed in finding anything. The problem is with landlady, who happens to be
the ex-mayor's widow. You don't see much of
her, mainly her sidekick. She is a powerful
woman in this neighborhood. Barangay officers will not get involved due
to her status and so she can do what she likes. At
7am the go between arrived to confirm the situation. Any overstay, even 1 day
would cost 8000 pesos, so must be out today. It is an odd situation as to why
we have to leave, and a combination of a couple of reasons. For example, we
want more space...we didn't accept her offer of one of her other places, as it
was amidst a rowdy group of Korean apartments, and so a very negative step as
they are some of the noisiest families on the planet apparently. Due to that
she doesn't like us. Accept my offer or go! Another problem is her wanting to
only extend for another month whilst we look around. She wants two and we
don't. All sounds simple to resolve, but her pride means that when she makes a
decision, she doesn't want to change for any reason.
Sat 4th April - After much calling around to contacts we have, I came on
a possible solution in an area called IBA. There is some irony in looking on
IBA road! When I started my broadcasting carrier in 1981 in the UK, it was with
an organization called the Independent
Broadcasting Authority, or IBA! Come full circle after 28 years! Not many
options to look at: 6500p for a 2 Bedroom place, but very noisy and although
very clean, pointless due to the noise. Another costing 3,000 pesos but single
room, and like a prison cell. The problem in general is that towns and cities
here are noisy. Videoke everywhere, tricycles, Jeepneys and motorbikes from
early hours of the day are incessant in drowning out any peace or solitude you
may be looking for. Recipe for stress!
In
the evening, got a call to go to gathering in Tagaytay, but so tired after long
day that didn't have the energy. Would have been good, but got another long day
tomorrow.
Sun 5th April - Up early to await helpers to move stuff out of apartment.
Feeling that the situation was ridiculous, I insisted we went ant tackled the
landlady face to face again. After much playing with words and persistence, she
relented and gave us 1 more month's stay, so had to give her 4000 pesos until
end of April. Phew....called off the helpers and sat to digest the change in
situation for a short while. Let's resume the plan to go to the province for
Holy week!
Even
though we had spent the past day or so boxing everything up ready to leave, it
was a sigh of relief. It is 'Holy week' everywhere, and here folks were in
procession from the church to the market carrying Pagaspas – ornaments made from Palm leaves. This is the symbolic
opening to Holy Week and symbolizes Jesus entry into Jerusalem. The story
develops throughout the week…Jesus enters Jerusalem to cheers and shouts of
Hosanna and the palms raised high in triumph by his adoring crowd. As the week
progresses, this wears off and the cheers turn to Jeers and ‘Crucify him’. More
on that part of the story later in the week as we plan to visit Pampanga, and
the San Fernando home of the volunteers who actually get themselves Crucified
as part of their devout sacrifice to their faith. Crazy people eh!
It
is Sunday and the market was a crazy place, as the crowds prepare for their
family gathering to open Holy week. Had some Carabao's milk (40 pesos a
bottle). Tastes like ordinary milk and not creamy as I had expected.
Set
off for the Province at noon on an Ordinary bus to Manila Pasay for 42p. Shiera
originates from Nueva Ecija province,
and the town of Bongabon. Lunch in
Pasay's Baclaran area before heading for the 'Five star' bus terminal to catch
a bus to Cabanatuan, the main city of Nueva Ecija, although not the actual
capital. From there another bus to Bongabon.
At
San Miguel stop-over the Chicharon sellers
get on. Chicharon is otherwise known as 'Crackling'. Mainly pork/Lechon, but
around here can be Carabao crackling, served with chili vinegar. Total fat of
course and great for the arteries, and maximum cholesterol diet!
Arriving
in Cabanatuan bus terminal was a surprise as was approached by beggars almost
as soon as I got off the bus. They don't see foreigners at all here and so an
instant source of money. Headed straight for the next bus to Bongabon. Didn't
think but many of these buses are designed for Filipinos and are shorter than
needed for taller foreigners. Bumped my head on the entrance door getting on
the bus, taking off a layer of skin...ouch!
Getting
out of Cabanatuan is an urgent requirement as it is a bit of a dire place. The
bus river insisted on doing this as slowly as possible whilst he searched for
extra passengers. Once full, he converted into a deranged lunatic escapee on a
rollercoaster ride. The passengers turned around in amusement as I was going
Yeehaah around the corners! Eccentric foreigner they probably thought.
Bongabon,
like most places, is a group of Barangay, so needed a tricycle ride after
getting off the bus, at 8pm or so, and now dark, to get to Santor barangay.
A
bit of a whirlwind on arrival, as a foreigner creates a bit of a stir.
Introduced to what seemed like the whole village. The elders have to be greeted
in a respectful hand to forehead gesture that I am now used to. Too many names
to remember and very tired after too long a day.
We
are staying in the main house and have temporarily dislodged a couple of the
girls, who would sleep in the Nipa hut outside in the compound. A nice dinner
and then off to meet more of the village, all of whom seem to be related. I
guess, a common thing in these small communities.
After
a nice session of catching up on news and too many questions to remember, a
well deserved shower and then sleep. Zzzzz....
Mon 6th Apr - Slept solid last night after a long tiring day. Should
have got up at 5am or so to watch the Caribou and 'Ninjas' heading for the
fields, but overslept. This area is known as the Onion capital of the
Philippines. Last night on the way into the area, the air was scented with
onions. Now is harvest time, and in the mornings the Caribou pull carts off to
the fields, driven or pulled by their masters. Due to the heat during the day
they are covered from head to foot in clothing and you can only see their eyes.
Hence the name Ninja!
Had
breakfast on the verandah watching the world go by. Had to run for my camera as
a cart came by, mounded with baskets, mirrors and everything woven hung off it.
A couple of these past during a short period, and they are gorgeous, with the
horses that pull them decorated too.
Most
locals slowed down as they passed, as I seem to be an attraction. The house has
an Orchidarium, and so I gazed out over a swathe of wonderful flowers and
Bougainvillea.
After
a treat of some fresh Buko from the palm tree, we borrowed a Bicycle with
sidecar and headed off for some sightseeing.
The
roads and any available large open spaces are covered in rice drying in the
sun. It was only 9am or so and the sun was melting. The Ninjas were working in
the fields picking and de-stalking the shallot onions, and the guys were
bagging them ready to take off to store or market. These were red skinned and
so made great photography, with the colours against the golden background of
rice waiting for harvest and the mountains in the distance.
The
next Barangay is Antipolo and then Baragud. Where we will return another
day to hopefully see the strange behavior of the infamous faith healers.
Carabou
bathing in the river...another normal scene, and the rice mils at the roadside
de-husking the rice and then bagging it. These machines are just adapted
Jeepneys with special machines on the back. They heat the rice grains and then
vibrate off the husk, which comes out steaming onto the ground, where some of
it was smoking it was so hot. Everywhere is active...folks preparing onions and
bagging, more rice being spread out. A wonderful view in every direction in
this picturesque place.
Back
to base for lunch, and my favourite 'Laing' which was requested last night.
Totally local and fresh...yam leaves, chili, coconut milk and Tilapia fish, all
free and perfect. Eaten with copious amounts of local rice. It is a wonderful
experience eating in these places, as everything is unadulterated and tasty.
Yumm.....
Spread
out in the Nipa hut as the heat soars to baking temperature and relax for a
while......
It's
time to go search out some fruit. As with everything else, the farm is self
sufficient in Yellow Mango, Green Mango, Chico, Kaimito (Star-apple), Banana,
Coconut and a few others, so we had a session picking from the trees.
Then
the Halo-Halo appeared (previously mentioned snack made from sweetened banana,
Mongo beans, Sweet potato, Shaved ice, Gulaman, Sago and Leche flan, but also
sometimes having Kaong (a different type of coconut), Macapuno (yellow
coconut), Tubo (sugar cane) and Ube), so the group chilled under a mango tree
and chatted whilst stuffing ourselves. Chickens crowing and running all over
the place and the young boys play fighting....typical scene!
Needed
to walk it off and so went for a walk whilst the day was cooling down. Got to
ride a Carabou that was pulling a rice mill; another box ticked!
As
this is Shiera's birthplace, it seemed fitting to visit her school near to the
plaza. As it happened, the children were rehearsing their dance for next week's
fiesta. Got to chat to the organizing teacher and some of the children, which
was nice.
The
plaza here is a basketball court as well as a stage. As with everywhere here,
during harvest it also acts as a drying space for rice and onions. It is a
normal sight, as the whole village thrives on their crops, so nobody worries
that the space has just vanished. They just accept it as part of the village's
livelihood. A few street stalls were selling typical Filipino snacks of
barbequed intestines, barbecued chicken blood (a grey mud looking gunky thing),
and barbeque chicken embryos...yep, the insides of Balut, that almost fully
formed chick, are taken one stage further and then barbequed! Against all logic
and gastronomic advice I was telling myself, Shiera insisted I had to try one.
For 5 pesos, it seemed a reluctant experience. I made a bargain that what I
didn't eat, she must finish off. I took one bite, chewed it a bit then spat it
out...yuk. Shiera then had to finish it off...took one bite...and spat it out
too. So, there is a lesson in there somewhere...the Filipino's are a strange
bunch when it comes to food, and even they agree it is rubbish sometimes!
Fortunately,
we had just stopped at the one and only place in town that sold San Miguel
beer, and so had a cold beer to offset the disgusting gastronomic taste. It had
been a long and hot afternoon and so drifted off to sleep for a short while
before dinner.
After
dinner was planning on doing nothing, but it is fiesta season and the town of
Bongabon sprouts some life in the evening. Getting out of Santor after 9pm
seems a difficult experience, as the place has gone to bed by that time. The
streets are deserted and hardly any transport running. Took a while but managed
to get a tricycle, but had to arrange a contingency for getting back, just in
case. Everywhere appeared deserted, until we got to the town plaza, where the
youth from the whole area seem to have congregated. A Ferris wheel dominated
the centre along with some typical cheap games and a lively main Rizal street,
packed with stalls selling almost everything.
The
main fiesta is at the weekend, so much of it is still being set up. Took a ride
on the Ferris wheel for 15 pesos to get a look over the town. Although these
rides are cheap, they are much faster than those I have been on in the ok, and
a lot more flimsy. They shake a bit and are like a white knuckle ride. I think
Bongabon has never seen a foreigner, as the crowds seem to stop with their
mouths dropped open as they stared. Those who are a bit more forward than others
will called out 'Hey Joe' or 'Americano' or 'Yo'. There is no distinction if
you are a white foreigner, we are all Americano! It has been funny at times, as
being tall (compared to most Filipinos that is), shaven head and wearing
shades, I have similar features to a well known pop star (mentioning no names),
and so have offered autographs on occasions...heehee...
Tue 7th Apr – With plenty to see in the area we had decided to head for
the beach at Digalan, south east of
here. A little research on options and then did some washing to get laundry up
to date before heading off after lunch.
Sat
watching the Carabao go by pulling their carts and the drivers lazily slumped
across the cart chewing straw...it's like a movie scene....and a family member
appeared and asked if I wanted to choreograph a dance for the Ati-Atihan fiesta
next week. Her daughter has already taught the elementary level kids some of
the dance, but they wanted me to add some extra steps to it, based on what I
had learnt about their tribal dances in Kalibo. Sounds fun so volunteered and
will catch up with her after we return from Digalan.
Shortly
after noon we headed off in a tricycle to the Cruz junction to catch the bus
for the first section of our journey. This was the nice bit. We then had to
wait at a junction in the middle of nowhere for another bus to pass going the
right way. Eventually, a rickety old thing arrived which was already packed to
its limits and stacked with produce and baggage. As commented many times
before, buses here are part of a public service to the community, and boarding
people with a dozen sacks of rice and vegetables for the market is the norm.
For much of the journey, the scenery is beautiful. Flatlands of rice and onions
spread between a backdrop of mountains and split by a winding river make for an
idyllic setting untouched by tourism.
Arrived
at the Digalan pier and went to see what was on offer. A bit of a shock as the
waterfront was nothing more than a rocky dark vista being pummeled by waves too
strong to swim in. We had been given a contact to get us to a 'white beach' a
short way from here. The guys in the Philippines Port Authority building were
friendly enough to invite us in whilst we waited. Took a bit of bartering for a
while as the Bangceros want to charge a fortune and talked about 1500 pesos,
although it is only about 1 nautical mile to get there! We weren't sure if
there was any accommodation at white beach, so had to go to the market to buy
some stuff to take with us for dinner just in case.
Battling
against the turbulent waves, it took about 8 guys to launch the banca and get
us on board. A very choppy crossing and arrived at the 'white beach' to find it
isn't white! Grey grit and rocks. A collection of Nipa huts spread in amongst
the trees, most of which are only day huts for eating in. No actual
accommodation, but the owner made some space for us. Whilst we were negotiating
the price, a little argument broke out between her and the Bangkero for some
wrong info they were telling people. She is trying to promote her beach for
people from Manila, but the locals are telling visitors that there is nothing
here.
Swans
were roaming around with chicks following in tow; Goats everywhere, some
fighting for control of their bit of high ground, plus a few dogs.
Spent
some time chatting with the owners of the beach area who are looking to sell it
to pay for their children's education. The generator was running to drive the
one low power light, or so we thought. We agreed it was time to go to bed and
the light was switched off. After about half an hour of silence the bloody
videoke began. The most awful noise continued until beyond 11pm, with the local
kids droning incessantly to shatter the peace. I ended up with a bad headache.
I
had earlier been shown some local coconut wine they call 'Tuba', but on
inspection it had a dead Gecko in it and so didn't take up the offer! After
about 1 month it turns to vinegar...obviously, something which appeals to the
Geckos!
We
have a cost comparison of our own as we have been travelling around the
Philippines; The price of the Buko. Here Buko costs 7 pesos each. In Silang it
is 8 pesos, Boracay 35, in Palawan...up to 60 pesos. All of these places have
it in great abundance; the price just reflects the local economy.
The
noise from the videoke got that load, at 11pm I had to go and stop it. They
didn't like it at all as they were drunk, and felt I was challenging their
pride. After about half an hour when I was back in bed they appeared with a
barking dog and were threatening to hit me. It took the owners a bit to calm
them down and spent the rest of the night on a vigil in case they turned nasty
again. We were told before we got here that it can be dangerous, and they were
right. Didn't sleep much after that.
Wed 8th Apr - After a terribly disturbed night from the videoke and the
swans, roosters and dogs, couldn't wait to get out of this place. A quick
breakfast and decided to walk along the coastline back to town rather than
taking a Bangca. After about half an hour or so walk, there was wreckage washed
ashore from a typhoon that had struck here a long time ago. A salvage
investigation team was just leaving back into town and so hitched a ride in the
back of their swish 4x4 truck. A quick gathering with more of Shiera's
relatives and then jumped the next bus out of town back north.
Whilst
waiting at the stop in town, a couple of things I had noticed. A boy past with
a Salagubang beetle on the end of a piece of string. They have them as pets and
it looks funny to see a bug flying around its owner on a lead. Another type of
beetle common here is the Uwang (otherwise known as Stag horn or Rhinoceros
beetle), which are also raised for racing, and it is serious business making
lots of money for those raising them. They are found in the crown of dying
trees, mainly coconut as they feed from the juice.
Also,
like, like most places they have a curfew here for 18yrs and below (9pm to 3am)
- 1st offence Reprimand, 2nd offence 500p, 3rd offence 1000p.
After
returning to Santor (Bongabon), back to the slow lane again. It was my treat to
cook dinner in the evening. One of my favorites is spiced Jackfruit, and so I
had to climb a tree to bring down a couple. Jackfruit is a spiky tough fruit,
which takes some preparing before you can cook it. A sharp knife or a machete
to get rid of the outer spiky surface and the woody layer underneath it. The
central part is then sliced up, including its seeds and just boiled in a pan
along with plenty of coconut milk, Chili and some magic syrap and seasoning until
it cooked down to a soft creamy texture. I made a second meal out of some pork
from the market, fresh pineapple, soy sauce, Chili, magic syrap, sweet potato
and onion, all cooked to a nice creamy curried flavor. Combined with plain rice
and fried rice it was a magic meal. Desert was some Bukayo… Fresh shredded
Coconut cooked with Moscavado sugar until caramelized, plus fresh Mango (or
Mangga as it is called here). Delicious meal and stuffed afterwards.
Thu 9th Apr – Local stuff today. Washing clothes etc. Took the cycle
out around town and a highlight of a visit to the town’s cemetery. This place
is full of exciting activities! Have to be careful as it is a dangerous place
being close to the fields and has snakes roaming around. Some interesting
sights…one of the tombs, painted bright yellow, had a toilet inside. I was
wondering whether anyone stayed there overnight to spend some close time with
their ex-relatives?
Back
at the house and there is always something local to learn about. As a
community, people have their own ways of making money. Anyone with a good
fridge will sell ice or ‘Yelo’ in Tagalog. People will pull up on their bikes
outside and shout ‘Yelo’.
They
have ‘roaming markets’. Twice a day one of the family goes out with their
adapted motorcycle with market sidecar, selling fresh produce from the farm.
They just press a buzzer as they drive along and the locals know they are
coming and come out to buy.
Fish
sellers do the same, so you can buy anything from small fish to large
Yellow-Fin Tuna at 130 pesos or so a kilo.
Ice-cream
sellers are the same everywhere. They have a standard musical jungle that plays
incessantly as they ride along. Da dee da da, dum de da da, dee de diddly dum
da da da… 5 pesos a go.
The
main message here is pace….slow down and adapt to the ways. The Caribou have it
right. Nonchalantly saunter along without a care in the world and let the world
move around you. Things have changed though and although the old Nipa huts or
‘Kubo’ seem pretty and perfect for the climate; they have been replaced in the
towns by concrete boxes. Relatively featureless by comparison, but more robust
against the baking temperatures, they are a perceived progress by the people.
The old huts are cheap, costing a maximum of maybe 50,000 pesos to build,
including the labour! Free if you are doing it yourself of course. A house
could cost a million pesos, but comes with bathroom and all of the trappings of
modern life if you can afford it. The funny thing is, being here, almost
everybody spends the day outside or in the Nipa hut, vacating the house and
only returning there to sleep. Cooking is done in the same Nipa hut too, not in
the clean and spacious modern kitchen. The hand pump outside is used to extract
water from their own well, so even the washing of clothes and dishes is done
outside in the compound. They have water in the kitchen sink, but use the hand
pump instead! It does seem ironic that it costs a lot to build a house for
somewhere to sleep, and they need fans to keep it cool, which aren’t required
outside in the hut. There is one benefit that I think they do use, and that is
the shower. No hot water, only cool. The atmosphere is so hot that the water
doesn’t need heating anyway. This is dry season though, and things are
different in wet season, when the house will get used more.
Lunch
as has become expected, was delicious. The food is so tasty here and
unadulterated. A tofu combination with some of yesterday’s leftovers, followed
by some of the tastiest Papaya I think I have ever had, plus Mango and Buko as
usual. I noticed the dogs eating from a container filled with rice, sweet corn
and onions. Even the animals have a healthy diet; No tinned dog food here!
One
of the relatives Hermie, works for Tanduay and delivered a large bottle of
Tanduay 5 year old dark rum for a bit of a guys night celebration, so we
gathered in the Nipa hut for a drink and some chat about life in the
Philippines compared to elsewhere in the world and politics and stuff. Expect a
bad head tomorrow!
Fri 10th Apr - Last night was a bit exciting. We had decided to sleep outside in the
Nipa hut and before we got to sleep there was a disturbance outside in the
street. A guy had been stabbed in the chest by someone who had waited for him
to leave his mates. He got himself to his auntie's house for help, and had to
be whisked off to hospital in a tricycle. There was a lot of activity and panic
in the street but they got the guy who was responsible.
This morning
the police arrived to gather information. And I thought it was a sleepy place
where nothing happened!
We are off to
San Fernando in Pampanga province this morning to witness one of the
Philippines' crazy events. Devotees to the catholic faith volunteer to be
crucified...nailed to the cross, the way Jesus was supposed to have been
similarly punished.
Set
off shortly after 7am on a tricycle then a bus followed by a Jeepney to get to
San Fernando. At around 11am we were passing through Gapan city and the
procession had already begun. Black hooded Guys flagellating themselves on
their backs with spiked flails until they bleed. Crucifixion candidates drag
their crosses along the road followed by crowds. They will do this until early
afternoon in the baking heat. To witness this is unbelievable. Dedication to
their beliefs and wanting to absolve themselves of all their mortal sins has
its price in blood and pain.
At
San Fernando we jumped another tricycle who knew where the procession was to
begin. There were three spread across the town. We went to San Pedro Barangay.
Soon after arriving the scary bit started. Guys flagellating themselves with
ropes carrying wooden battens dragged themselves slowly along the road. Blood
splattered the passers-by and anything else in its way. I accidentally got too
close and got blood on my legs and clothes...yuk! Their skin was lacerated and
loose skin mixed with blood trickled down their backs, but they seemed
oblivious to the pain. Onlookers watched in horror and many in revolt at the
sight. Many dozens of them went through this, but you don't see their faces due
to the hoods they wear. Occasionally they stop, lay face down on the scorching
concrete road and prostrate themselves, still being beaten by people who walk
with them. Struggling back to their feet, they carry on. Their destination is a
sort of plaza where a small hill carries three crosses. This is where it gets a
bit theatrical. A camera crew takes prime position on a stage in front of the
impending show. Other stages are set up for visitors early enough to get
tickets. An announcer calls out the itinerary for the performance. We managed
to get on to a mobile platform with a reasonable view, but it was in direct sun
and got roasted. So hot it was unbearable, but nothing compared to the
'victim's' ordeal.
As
time progressed, the victims appeared and made their way to the cross where
they knelt and prayed before getting up and walking away; the end of their
penitence for the day.
Later,
after 1pm, the crucifix candidates appear, preceded by crusaders on horses
dressed in mock roman breastplate and red cloaks with golden helmet. Jesus is
in the [procession dragging his cross to the hill where her then kneels behind
the central cross with two others at either side. The crosses are laid down and
one by one they are nailed to the cross through their palms and for Jesus, his
feet also.
Now,
for anyone out there who is a fan of Monty Python’s ‘Life of Brian’ movie, you
will understand the meaning of the song…’Always look on the bright side of
life’. Jesus flanked by the two disciples on the crosses triggers of a little
tune in your head. If you have no idea what I am talking about then don’t
worry, search for it on the net and you will see what I mean.
After
a while Jesus is lowered and carried off to a side tent where he is bandaged
and oddly enough interviewed by a film crew for national television. What was
funny was that he then pulled on a Ché Guevara T-shirt who he also resembled!
Must get paid as a stunt double for him!
The
main performance over and the announcer calls out that there will be many
victims being crucified throughout the afternoon for the visitors to watch. We
are allowed to get right upto these guys and take photographs. The hill turns
into a bit of a circus as media and visitors scramble to get the best position
for close-up photos of the nails going in. The crucifix victims obviously have
to control themselves as they are being watched closely by a surging crowd.
First they are tied to the cross with red ribbons before their hands and feet
are bathed in alcohol to sterilize the area. Next, one of the crusaders prods
and kneads the skin to find the best place to insert the nail. Once located he
pushes the nail through the skin with his hand and holds it firm down to the
wooden cross, followed by a short tap with a decorative hammer. The cross is
then raised to vertical. Not all, but many then have their feet nailed, a more
painful process than the hands. In the baking heat they hang there for maybe 15
minutes before being lowered, the nails removed and presented to them in a glass
jar, and then carried off to the tents to be bandaged and recovered. Some just
climb off the cross and get bandaged there and just walk away.
The
whole spectacle is bizarre to watch, but it is enacted here every year, each
year getting more theatrical I gather. Last year a foreigner took part but
backed out just before the crucifixion stage. Don’t blame him! This year
another foreigner appeared, flagellating himself as he entered the plaza. He
had his own camera man I tow from a crazy pursuits media company. It was
obvious that he was going to give it a go, but the pressure was on for him to
out back out as last year. He did go through with it…crazy bugger!
After
the show was over, the difficult task of getting out of the area, as thousands
of people headed for the escape route. Took a while, but made it. Had to change
transport part way, but it had an advantage as the next stage in the
proceedings was now happening in the churches. Jesus supposedly now dead body
is delivered by carriage to the church for the ceremony, after which a street
procession winds its way through the streets, followed by a crowd until
darkness falls.
On
the way back out of town towards Cabanatuan, there were still many victims
flagellating themselves, or dragging crosses in other towns, or street
processions in flow from churches, each done in different ways, so no standard
system across the region.
Sat 11th Apr – A day to recover. Yesterday was a very long day of baking
heat, Shiera suffering badly due to heat exhaustion. Time to relax and take it
easy. Another one of the province’s treats at lunch time. Dining outside with
food served on banana leaves; Milk fish and a gorgeous healthy Papaya salad
finished off with Chico and Mango. Yummeee…
Every
day, more traditional ways. Some houses have modernized to gas cookers, whilst
others still use the outdoor wood stove. Fashioned from local clay to a
traditional design to support a pan with space underneath to hold the wood.
Out
for a walk in the cool night air, and passed a couple of very old houses that
are believed to be haunted. The owners of one will only live downstairs; a
young girl was supposed to have died a nasty death and can be seen crying in
the corner of the upstairs bedroom.
Provincial
life is very family-centric and children are a major part of the culture. The
kids run around with no fixed playground, and everyone seems to take on
responsibility for their safety and play. As such, the extended families have a
close bond with each other as aunties and uncles form as much a part of the
child’s upbringing as their true parents and grandparents. The children
constantly play fight of course, as seems to be normal especially with the
boys, but it is all taken with humour.
Sun 12th Apr – Nothing special to do today other than sleep, play and
going with the flow of things. I have found one thing recently with life as a
foreigner in this type of community. I am the only foreigner in this whole
town, and possibly in the whole region. It is a very isolating experience. In
the past 4 months or so I have had little opportunity to converse with
like-minded people to myself. Foreigners are a rare beast in most of the
Philippines other than the very touristy dive places. Sometimes it gets to me.
Passing by the umpteenth person who smiles at you and then shouts ‘Hey Joe, How
ya doin? Is fun at first, but after a while it does wear a bit thin, and you
get tired of it but still have to play the game. You cannot converse with
anyone with anything else other than ‘Fine, How are you’, knowing that the only
answer they can give is ‘OK’. Not knowing the language is a great limitation,
and I am not good at remembering languages these days. I learn some words, but
not enough to hold a conversation, or even understand the answer. Kamusta Ka Po? The answer goes
completely over my head! Like a comedian giving a performance, they ask you to
say what little you know, and are amused by the effort you make. I am 49 and
not a child giving a performance! Not being unkind I hope as I fully understand
the novelty of the situation to them, they just don’t know how it feels.
I
do get help from Shiera, but it is understandable that I only get an
interpretation of less than 5% of what has actually been said by anyone. Some
folk will actually say that they can say what they like, and you have no idea
what they are saying about you. Makes me feel a little uncomfortable as they
make a joke about it, without realizing that you get a tired of it
occasionally. A foreigner in a strange foreign land amongst only locals is a
very isolating experience indeed. Instead of sitting amongst groups of chatting
locals, I need to go off on my own for some peace and quiet with my own
thoughts rather than sit and feel uncomfortable when I have no idea what they
are saying. I have to be careful though as they are really lovely people and I
don’t want to offend, especially as Shiera is excited to be taking me around
her enormous family. It seems at times like the whole of the Bongabon area is
related. I make a joke about it that it must be incestuous for so many people
to be related.
Off
into Bongabon town…
We
had been invited to the Bongabon Central school to see the children rehearsing
for tomorrow’s street dance competition, which is part of the Fiesta. A really
tidy school, part sponsored by the Japanese government. The Children put on a
special performance for us and we couldn’t help but smile, as they were so
happy. Done in two parts, one of which will be judged as a showcase. The
teacher is one of Shiera’s cousins (see what I mean…they are all related!), and
had I been here long enough, would have been involved in helping choreograph
some additions to their routine. It had taken them 3 months to get this far,
and with their performance tomorrow, there is no way it was sensible to be
adding to what they had already done, so left well alone.
A
wander around the market stall to buy some new T-shirts and shorts, then off
for some more family greeting. Aunties, uncles, cousins etc. One of them we
will return to tomorrow as we will have lunch there during the fiesta. They are
onion growers like most around here. The onion business is complicated by much
competition and the involvement of the Chinese. At the beginning of rice
harvest, onions fetch around 10 pesos per kilo. The second week or so that can
double. As time goes on, the price rises. Many will store their crop to sell
later when the price is higher. The Chinese and other wealthy Filipinos have
storage facilities, which they will charge maybe 150 pesos per month per 25kg
sack for. The farmers have to live, and have to pay off debts such as money
they have borrowed before harvest season, so it is a tradeoff between immediate
money by selling their crops early, against making more profit by storing and
selling later, whilst having to pay off the costs. Their workers want paying
straight away too. Harvesting onions like other crops, is labor intensive. From
people pulling them out of the ground and separating the withering stalks from
the bulb, to the preparation and grading process. Onions are erratic in their
growth habits. Some are distorted, some round and large, some small. Some fit
for sale, others for 'Fattening up'. The distorted ones if left will round up
in a while and become saleable. These are all separated by hand and the
withered layers removed. Groups of people can be seen everywhere doing this for
a fairly meager salary per bag, or per day depending on what they have
negotiated.
There
is a risk involved, as the price of onions isn't guaranteed, and so their
profit might not be what they expect after storage. Sometimes the Chinese will
assist or even pay for the cost of the fertilizer which the crop is growing, in
order to get a favorable price after harvest. The inter-relationship is
complex. In town the signs...Bumbili na
Palay, for example is the rice buyer Bumbili
na Sibuyas, is an onion buyer. All farmers sell their rice as soon as
possible to these places. And every day massive trucks laden as high as
practical ply the route out of town stacked with onions or rice, destined for the
markets or mass processing centers.
Mon 13th Apr – Up at 7am to watch the world go by. The usual sight of
the Basket ware carrying Karatela
pulled by their horses is a beautifully quaint custom. No matter how many times
I see them I have to take a photograph.
The
next usual sight is the carts being pulled by Carabao. I decided to hitch a
ride on one to the fields, to much amusement to the passing locals. It is a
lovely sensation, as they lollop along at barely more than a snail's pace.
Walked back to the house and started to get a rumble in my stomach that
signaled the beginning of a dose of Diarrhoea. A few others in the family had
it too, so something we had all eaten must have triggered it off.
Staying
close to the toilet for a while, had to escape into the fresh air, so got the
bike out and went on a photo shoot of life amongst the rice harvesting folk.
They didn't mind me getting right in amongst them in the fields to take photos,
as it is a bit of fun for them, so they put plenty of extra effort into it.
Guys use a machete like a scythe the cut down the rice stalks to within a
couple of hundred millimeters of the ground. By the way they know it is ready
for harvest when it has turned yellow and began to fall over with the weight of
the rice seed.
Another
bunch of guys then put the stalks into a machine to separate the seed from the
stalk, which is then spewed out into an adjacent mound. Women then sieve the
seed by hand to get rid of the remaining chaff, and put the finished seed into
bags. Whichever direction you look from here, you gaze upon mile after mile of
rice paddy right upto the distant mountains. This process goes on day after
day, in a way hardly changed in a long time, and continues almost all year as
the crops are interleaved to produce a steady flow of rice. An average family
that eats rice three times per day will consume a 50kg sack in one week to one
month, depending on group size. The families we are staying with consume a
small mountain of the stuff each week.
It
is Fiesta day today in Bongabon, but the morning is only a Trade fair
exhibition at 9am, which we didn't bother going to. The main event is the
Street Dance competition, which was supposed to start at 2pm in the market area.
This is only the second year they had run it and, as the heat was already too
hot, they decided to change plan and begin it at the National High School,
which has a covered games area large enough to hold the groups. The show got
off to a great buzzing start as the excited kids were getting into the spirit
of the event. Although we had seen some groups at rehearsal, they were now in
full costume and looked great. Twelve schools competing in a showdown to win a
25,000 pesos prize for their school. 2nd and 3rd cash
prizes were also given. The usual inaugural speeches by the deputy mayor and
lady mayor, plus the introduction of the judges, then one by one the groups
left the school in procession towards the town centre. The event was being
filmed by the network television station ABS-CBN. Being the only foreigner in
the town meant being interviewed by them; wanting to know why I was there and
what I thought about it. The main thing I enjoyed was to see the happiness on
the kids faces as they put their effort into it in a sign of enjoyment. This
was also a recent idea on celebrating what this region is famed for.
As
the space wasn’t ideal at the school they held the showdown competition in the
market, which was too small also. They had the rifle carrying army present as
crowd control and constantly had to keep people back to maintain enough space
for the groups. The event was really nice and colorful. As already mentioned,
Bongabon is the Onion capital of the Philippines and this even was to celebrate
the onion harvest, so named Sibuyasan
2009. Sibuyas is Tagalog for onion.
As
a celebration, a fireworks display was being held in the public market in the
evening, but was so tired we didn’t go to see it, but felt obliged to make a
brief visit to a more communal event; the wake of a 2nd cousin. Odd
choice I know…Fireworks or a wake! Shiera didn’t know him, but he was only 37
and had died of a heart attack, which is very young to die of a heart attack.
The protocol here is that the wake is held for 1 week, and today was the final
day with a band playing and family and friends gathering to play cards and
generally enjoy themselves. Sometimes a contribution is made to the widow by
the visitors to cover the cost of holding the funeral and wake. Shiera is
freaked out by seeing a dead body and so didn’t look. I did, and a recent
photograph was pinned to the lid of the white coffin. Not easy to see the
likeness as he had much make-up applied to make him look very white. He was
dressed in a white suit and dark her with red lips.
Tue 14th Apr – A highlight of the fiesta and not one to be missed meant
getting up at 6am to be there at 7am – the Caribou race in Curva Barangay! Well
this is the province and they are the workhorse of the community. Things seemed
to be getting off to a painfully slow start, until we later heard that the PA
hadn’t arrived and so the judges, who arrived earlier, had gone home and
wouldn’t come back until later. It was so hot and we were already tired due to
the early start; this was the last thing we wanted to hear. Well, this gave the
contestants plenty of time to warm up. It surprised me that many were using a taser, otherwise known as a ‘stun-gun’
to get the beasts angry.
It
took until after 11am until things got under way, and in typical tradition they
run it the opposite way to what you would think. They walk the Carabao and
carts to the far end of the field and race them towards the crowd. Now, unless
you have ever seen a Carabao run before, it is a surprise how big they are and
how fast they can shift their great bulk. When one of these animals come
hurtling towards you at breakneck speed, it is a scary experience, especially
when it comes to stopping them. One of the guys shouted out that his wasn’t
carrying enough brake fluid as it hurtled towards a wall and the audience had
to scatter pretty quickly. Very funny! Another surprise was that, out of the 42
competing Carabao and carts, they only raced them in pairs, although the
make-shift trap was designed for four. This means at 20 minutes between pairs,
who had to walk about 1km from the finishing point to the start line before
they could begin, the whole event would take until late afternoon until they
got to the semi-finals, let alone the actual end of the event. There was no way
we were going to stay for the whole event, and anyway, we had got the idea.
A
shame considering the delayed timing of the Carabao race was that there was
also a band competition in the town plaza that began at 10am. Too tired after
the early start to go onto the town for the show, we returned back to Santor
for lunch, and a rest.
Wed 15th Apr - Last night the sun was shining as usual and all of a sudden a few drops
of rain followed by a deluge, so heavy it caused a major panic. This is harvest
season and nobody wants rain, as it rots the onions and so all help out in the
fields for some of the farmers desperate to gather in as much as they could in
a hurry. The rain lasted until dark. I was impressed at how leak-proof the Nipa
hut was. Not a drop inside.
We had
planned to go back to Silang today, but as our clothes that were out drying got
soaked and hadn't dried, we decided to hang around for another day or so. As it
turns out, tomorrow is harvest day for one of the cousins and so everyone will
be involved in helping, so staying extra time looks to be a good choice.
More local street business to make a note of, such as the fish seller with his sap-sap and green-lipped mussels. They all find their little niche market on
the streets. Guys plod the roads all day selling ice-cream salad for 5 pesos,
ringing their bell as they go. The man selling soya milk from stainless steel
buckets slung from a yoke across his shoulders, shouting Taho as his calling sign. Another guy
loaded down with TV antennas, Machete, hacksaws, drain plungers and all manner
of stuff, walking along in the baking heat.
In
the afternoon we went for a walk to watch more rice harvesting. The machine
separating the grains from the stalks ejects the stalks from a separate Shute. What I hadn't realized
when I saw this a few days ago, was that the women forking over the ejected
material, which I though were spreading it out to dry, are actually separating
the grain that the machine misses. When you look at it, probably 10% of the
rice grain gets thrown out of the waste Shute. What the women collect they keep
for themselves and their families. They put the effort in and get the reward.
Most of the people here, men and women alike, although clad as previously
mentioned as 'Ninjas', are tough people. Their skin dark and leathery through
an age spent in hot sun and through hard manual labor, something which they are
not afraid of. From an early age they are used to work.
On the way to the fields we had seen four
empty carts pulled by their Carabao, so planned to ask for a ride back with
them. We couldn't have been luckier, and got a great experience going back with
them to their farm, as I got to drive one of the carts sitting on top of the
sacks of grain. At the farm I helped to offload the sacks into their store. At
50kg each, this needs some strength. Most carry them on their backs, but some
on their heads; gotta have a strong neck for that!
Much like yesterday, as the heat faded, the
sky darkened and the thunder and lightning commenced, soon turning into heavy
rain. Got back just in time to avoid a good soaking.
Thu 16th Apr - Onion harvesting in the farm and so up early
at 6am. This is usually a group activity involving the whole family, who get
paid for their work just like anyone else. They don't take advantage of the
family and treat their labor as business. The problem had been the rain. Ground
conditions were muddy and they had to survey the fields first to see if
conditions were ok to start picking. At first they were going to abandon and
laid everyone off. A change of mind later on meant gathering enough people to do
the work. Didn't get started until about 10am, so lost lots of valuable time.
Plodding through the muddy fields and navigation channels on the way there, I
soon realized it was better to ditch the flip-flops and go native with bare
feet. Much easier and less likely to have an accident; It cleans of anyway. We
arrived with many already started, and so got stuck in to pulling up onions and
putting into mounds to dry out. A lot of novelty of course, as I was the first
foreigner EVER to have done this here! Much chat in Tagalog which I have no
idea about. The next step after some time out in the air is to cut away the
unwanted stalks. They wedge a machete into a piece of bamboo in the ground so
that they can free both hands to this at speed. The result is then sacked and
what are called pickles thrown away, which seems a waste, but others collect
these and get paid for them, mainly the children. Each bag holds up to 28kg and
the day's effort bagged about 32 bags by 2pm when we left them to continue. It
doesn't end here as they have to be sorted and graded back at the farm, so not
much effort is put in at this stage to checking the quality, just get them out
of the field and back to base, then do the rest there, especially considering
the impending rains. We did have so rain through the day, but it didn't stop
work.
Adjacent to the fields is a Calamansi farm (Filipino small lemon),
which was were we had a typical workers lunch of a mountain of rice accompanied
by some pork and vegetable soup. I am getting fed up with rice now, and so
cannot manage to eat it like they do. They got me some tomatoes and sweet
breads otherwise I would have had nothing but water all day.
Back
at the house a fire control officer was giving a lecture to the owners on fire
prevention, not that they needed to be told how to control a gas cooker. That
is the only appliance they have.
After
a nice shower and a short rest I went Walkabout on my own with my iPod. Stopped
by the plaza for a San Miguel and a chat with some locals, then carried on my
walk around town until sunset. I always find this a great experience as the
world orchestrated to music is a far different experience. I don't interact
with people as much but concentrate on different things, singing as I go. It is
also best done alone to get into my own space and thoughts; spontaneously
taking photographs when passing by something unusual or interesting.
Fri 17th Apr - We both woke up this morning with aches from yesterday's
activities, and feeling like a geriatric. The old folk who do this every day
adapt to it, but is uses muscles that don't normally get much use.
Sitting
outside with a wake-up cup of fruit tea, and a bell rings from the plaza
signifying that someone has died. Nobody knows who yet. Another story goes
around about a guy who tried to commit suicide due to too many problems. I
learnt a bit more to this story but not one to go into print about. Life in
this type of community seems laid back, but it does carry with it many
pressures as they live a poor hand to mouth existence. What is also noticeable
here as mentioned before is the prevalence of large houses being built. Here,
this is a sign of community status. Progressing from the Nipa hut to the brick
box to the flashy house, means you have made it, and people will look up to
you. So, when harvesting has happened and folks have some money to spend, they
either build or extend their houses. There is no savings planning, just spend
it. So, when things get tight later on, for whatever reason, they might have a
nice house, but no food!
A
tasty warm breakfast of Chemporado,
which is Risotto rice mixed with chocolate, sugar and evaporated cream. Then
out on the bike again for our last look around the village. This time going in
a different direction. Stopped to watch some guys up a palm tree cutting buko.
They kindly gave us three to take home with us. Off to the river which looks
pretty now with pretty lilac water hyacinth floating in large patches with
edible tuberous green stems. The fishermen were out. One guy using electric
fishing where he uses an car battery on the riverbank attached to some leads
which he uses to zap the fish. A bit...well, very dangerous activity really.
Another guy with a triangular push net in a wooden frame. Pushing it along the
river bed scoping up the smooth stones and shellfish. When shaken out, the
remaining small shrimps and fish don't look much, but they like them. For a
moment my back was turned and a loud scream from behind me. Shiera leaping like
a nutter and running from the river...a leach...hates them! Tut tut tut,
inoffensive little creatures!
The
rains started early today and we had to take refuge in a convenient little
Sari-Sari type restaurant hut. They sold all sorts of snacks, so indulged in a
Halo-Halo and some meat and squash cooked snacks, plus some as a takeaway.
Every
direction today is full on harvesting. Onions especially due to the rains.
Carabao and carts everywhere, stacks of red sacks containing harvested onions.
One load on its way to store and empty carts on their way back for the next.
Today
is time to return to Silang after almost 2 weeks of activities and learning the
country ways. It is always strange to go back, but this time it is different as
we also have to look for another house before the month is out. After lunch,
time to say goodbye to our very hospitable hosts Lalai and Junior and
whoever else was around. Most were out in the fields harvesting. Time to hit
the road south. Tricycle to Bongabon, bus to Cabanatuan, bus to Pasay Manila
and then final section back to Silang.
Whenever
I reach Manila I feel the congestion like an unbearable weight. Nose to tail
traffic all the time. Admittedly, today we got there at peak time and so it was
worse that usual. Getting a bus is a stressful experience as you get
asphyxiated by carbon monoxide plus the smell from the highly polluted
tributaries of the Pasig river. Ended up having to get a normal (non-aircon)
bus with standing room only. Complete with backpack and luggage it is a bit of
a pain. A journey that would normally take 30 minutes at clear time, takes 90
minutes. From the slow pace and relative peace and quiet of the province, to
the chaotic and overbearing mayhem of the city. Yuk...
Sat 18th Apr - Just getting sorted and nothing much to say about it.
Sun 19th Apr - I have no idea where we got it but we both have the Diahoroea. Spent
most of the night on the toilet, and lost so much weight in a short space of
time that I became dehydrated. Now down to 138 pounds in weight, which is too
low for my size and have to build up. As we had only just got back from the
province and the house was packed up in boxes ready to move from before we
left, we had no liquid in the house at all, and too late to get anything. Had
to wait until daytime to get sorted out. Spent most of the day recovering.
Mon 20th Apr - Feeling much better today and have to get on with finding somewhere to
move to before the end of the month.
And
that is it for now folks. Returning to life in Silang will be part of the next
journal….
Bye
for now
