Cheating the World

So I checked my purse. My male purse. Then I started cursing myself, seeing that there were only some pesos left that I had. And I needed to register for the whale sharks watching. Also for tonight's dinner. And the next day's breakfast. I'm dead, I convinced myself.

But it was too late to return to Oslob town. Public transport from this remote area I stayed had stopped operating long before I realized that I no longer had local currency. And perhaps, the money changer had closed too anyway.

Well. I had no other choice but to sell my dollars to, I don't know, anybody who wanted to.

I was about to miss the sunset. Sunset in notable Cebu, the fluorescent moment of the sun fading within the deep blue color of the ocean, yes I was about to miss that. Instead, I walked from one hotel to another, in hoping to find a volunteer to buy some stranger's money. Until I found a guy who claimed that he was a money collector. Said that he owned various kinds of currency, but mine.

Finally, a life safer. Or no.

He was only willing to buy the money less than the rate I could get at the money changer. By the time he showed me his calculator, I knew I was being robbed.

We kept bargaining. It was a smooth haggle tho, we laughed, we shared about each other's culture, but deep inside I was hurting because he seemed to have no interest in buying my money in a proper price. And I knew underneath his crunchy laughter, there was even louder chortle of taking advantages of me. With his huge figure and over-laid-back personality, and me being a spineless meager little guy, it was like a moment of bullying at high school. In a more relaxed way.

Eventually, I let my guards down. After all I needed the money. So we closed the deal in which I suffered a little loss.

But to be honest, I felt kind of pleased. It was like paying a very interesting experience; bargaining with a local, over money purchase. And apparently, it was also amusing to that guy. He had fun arguing, and of course, bullying me.

As the closure of our 'fierce' business, he then decided to invite me over their kid's birthday party. Not just a party, it was a local-cultured one, with local dishes and stuff. Not to mention their local roasted pork regale called lechon. I was being shy at first, but then I feasted like a pig.

Well yea.

I had so much fun. Fun I'd never found if I realized I no longer had local money earlier, when public transport was still operating and I could rush to town in exchange of money.