My colorless green ideas

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.