It's more fun...

shereen_92 — Sun, 12 Jun 2016 12:54:00 GMT

‘Atè! Atè!’

Here they come.

It’s 4.30am, the house already smells of frying fish, lumpiang gulay; the excitement coming from the other side of the door is evident before I have even opened my eyes.
‘Atè! Family bonding day, it’s here!’
I roll over on my wooden bed to find my roommate completely comatose. She isn’t great at mornings.

‘ATE!’

And in they come, a small army of over-excited Filipino children to drag us out onto the boats ready for adventure.
Having lived with the family for a few months, this day is what we have all been waiting for; a family (and by family, I do not only mean the kids, parents, perhaps a grandparent. No. We’re talking Aunty Sheena’s–uncle-by-marriage-plus-the-dog, type family gathering) day out at Alaminos city’s pride and glory; The Hundred Island’s National Park…
After months of every bloke with a boat offering a trip at ‘the best price in town, for you ma’am!’, we were finally going to see what all the fuss was about!

Into the narrow, low lying old school catamaran style boats we crammed, 10 to a boat with an entire fleet of Filipinos in life jackets made of cloth stuffed with polystyrene, we journeyed down the river as the sun rose, glinting off the mirror-patchwork of the surrounding salt farms, interspersed with mangrove forests, their tangle of roots thickening into the silt of the river banks as we neared the open South China Sea.
‘Atè, excited?’ Perched next to me on the boat are three of the children, excitement written all over their grinning faces. ‘Atè, I am so very excited about all the foods, so very masarab! And swimming and jumping…’

As the boats trundle on I can see green jewels popping up over the turquoise horizon. Why it’s called Hundred Islands is clear; As we approach, the water around the boats becomes clearer, the undercut blobs of remaining limestone capped with luscious green, with the occasional golden beach glimpsed in a cove, rise up around us. The excitement on the boat could be felt through the fidgeting of excited little bums on the seat next to me (I’m blaming the kids, I was darn excited too by this point). Beautiful beaches, stunning scenery. Sounds like paradise, right? So of course, the only way to enjoy this imagination-capturing place was… ‘Shark attack’.

This very technical game involves approximately 15 Filipino children and 1 baffled foreigner (or, the shark), attempting to ‘attack’. Que Jaws theme music.

What can I say? It’s more fun in the Philippines!

The cashpoint in the rainforest

shereen_92 — Sun, 26 Apr 2015 03:49:02 GMT

That feeling of a hundred thousand tonnes of limestone hanging over your head. Of the sheer power of water carving the very path you are following. That feeling of the gods of the underworld awaiting their next tribute.
We are on a trip to Xibalba, a place ruled by ancient gods sullenly awaiting human sacrifice in return for good crop yields and the health of the masses. It certainly feels this way entering the chandelier ballroom of Actun Tunichil Muknal Cave(or ATM as it is locally known).
The torches on our helmets provide little light in the giant cavern, with the beams sucked into the darkness providing only slight glimmers of the underground decorations awaiting our adjusting eyes.
Wandering further into the darkness the enormity of the hollow becomes more apparent; Huge, glittering stalagmites and stalactites, towering white columns and frozen waterfalls of limestone; that eerie feeling of time standing still.
Around our feet there are momentums of the past; ancient pots smashed and scattered between the stumps of stunted stalagmites, little gnomes watching over the debris.

We press on. After the sweltering heat of the Central American rainforest, the lengthy hike up through the mountains, crossing rivers and the onslaught of mosquitoes complimentary with the rainforest, the cool air and water in the cave are a rather welcome break.
The unforgiving demands of solid limestone on knees and elbows, perhaps not so welcome. Swimming against the current of the subterranean river again, a fairly pressing battle.

A small, rusty ladder ahead scales a sheer calcite face, a wall so wet and smooth it seems impossible to climb without aid. A quick scramble up the (slightly dodgy looking) scaffold and we are in a small passage.
Before us, emerging from the limestone floor she lies, as if she has been waiting for our arrival. Her head and shoulders are slightly propped up, she's looking toward us. Her bones glitter with thousands of years of calcite and gypsum crystallising her sacrifice, preserving her in stone for all eternity.
I can't help but wonder, did the Crystal Maiden's delivery to Xibulba serve it's purpose; did her sacrifice prove worthy enough for a good yield? Did she keep them safe? A girl of 15 chosen to be the saviour of the Maya; was she scared? Proud?

One thing is certain: she is eternal. A woman of crystal and rock, preserved for all time, the elusive reward awaiting a visit from only the most adventurous and the gods.

Subterranean not-so-homesick blues

It's more fun...

The cashpoint in the rainforest