The Mighty Rock Against the Waves of Siargao

cristtaigloria — Mon, 25 May 2015 12:30:46 GMT

Riding a habal-habal is exciting. Hop on the motorbike like you are getting on a horse. Grip the handle on both sides when it gets faster. Let your body sway when it makes a sharp turn. Untie your hair so it will be swept by the wind like in a shampoo commercial. Pretend the camera is rolling so spread your arms wide for your daredevil shot. However, if you have been sitting cold on that hard uncomfortable seat of the habal-habal for one and a half hour, it is not that thrilling and glamorous.

“This better be worthit,” I kept repeating to myself on our way to the town of Pilar in Siargao. My friends and I woke up early and rode the habal-habal on our beachwear. We did not realize our colorful tie-dyed sarongs and sheer flowy sundresses were not enough to cover our goose bumps.

Thankfully, we arrived at our destination when the sun was already up. On our way down to the beach, I saw this statuesque mammoth rock squatting on top of another big boulder. It faces the hurling barrel waves of the sea, yet it sits there firmly and unyielding. As we explored the beach, it turned out that it guards one of the most unique natural wonders I have ever seen.

Behind the rocks were the tide pools of Magpupungko Beach. “They only show up during low tide,” our guide said. Our timing was just right. Mesmerized, I watched the waves surge from a distance, yet they seemed to hush and flow quietly into the tide pools. Encircling the pools were solid sections covered with seaweeds which tickled my feet as I walked. In that section, the water was only shin-deep, but the tide pool itself was several meters deep. In pictures, it seemed that I was walking on water.

It was already noon when the high tide came. Because it was the last time that I would see the tide pools, I had better things in mind. I grappled the sharp edges of the mammoth rock and vertically crawled all the way through. Ten feet up, the view was worth scraping my knees for. The sea was like a blue blanket being rolled in and out so I jumped from the overhanging cliff. My five-feet tall self only created a tiny splash in the water that did not even reach the height of the mammoth rock.

When it was time to go, I looked at that mighty huge rock again. The waves were bigger and stronger now. Back and forth, they slammed against it. Yet, the rock sat still — firm and unyielding. At that moment, I swore I would never complain about riding the habal-habal again.

A Local Encounter that Changed my Perspective - The Old Man and the Sea Turtle

cristtaigloria — Fri, 19 Apr 2013 02:20:24 GMT

The boat cried a dull roar as the revving motor stopped. Cautiously, the long hull of the boat nosed into the waters and threaded its way to the island. As soon as its bottom squatted on the shore, I jumped out of the boat.

“Turtle Island,” the boatman said.

My eyes scoured for turtles, but all I saw were a shabby nipa hut and an old man sitting on a slab of driftwood.

“He’s the caretaker,” the boatman pointed out.

The man’s faded brown wrinkled skin creased into a weak smile, as if he had seen one too many tourists. Uncountable frown lines were drawn across his forehead and round his weary eyes. Then, he pointed to the sign that says P5.00 entrance fee. His hands were shaking. With his age, I wondered how long he had been staying there.

After paying, the boatman gestured his finger to a concrete tank. Inside was a lone sea turtle. Frail and gentle, the turtle could barely move nor swim around the concrete enclosure. I asked if I could take it out. The old man nodded.

The turtle was heavy. Its shell, which had beautiful patterns of distinct brown plates, was sturdy and robust. It had an elongated head and somewhat sharp facial look. It had a mouth that looked like the sharp beak of a bird. The boatman said it was a pawikan or hawksbill turtle.

I let it crawl. l watched the turtle as its arms plowed onto the white sand. Slowly, its scaly feet plodded until it reached the blue ocean. Where it truly belong, I thought.

I looked at the old man. His face was calm and serene. He was not taken aback by the turtle’s flight.

“Sea turtles are natural travelers that can swim all over the world, but still go back to the same spot where they broke out of their shell. When it is time to lay their eggs, they return and find their way back,” the boatman said.

By looking at the old man, I knew. My folks were waiting for me to come home, too.

My colorless green ideas

The Mighty Rock Against the Waves of Siargao

A Local Encounter that Changed my Perspective - The Old Man and the Sea Turtle