A Pissy Introspective Reflection (.....)

This entry isn’t about the Philippines. It isn’t about the good times I’m having or the funny scrapes I’m getting myself into. It isn’t even going to be about the kid I ran down on my bike today, although I’ll eventually have to tell that one I suppose. No, this is going to be a much more sombre-than-usual post.

A reflective post.

An introspective post.

A pissy post.

Before any of you think to yourselves, in the most disdainful voice you can possibly imagine, “Pfffht! Walsh...what a knob. He’s in the fucking Philippines, a tropical paradise for Christ’s sake! Thirty degrees every day! Cheap food, beautiful women, and NCCC! How dare he complain!!” hear me out. This post isn’t at all going to be about complaints with my situation over here. I have no right to complain about that. Everyone and everything here has been absolutely phenomenal, and I do mean that. No, this post is coming from a conversation me and Mr. Patrick “Class” Connolly had earlier, moments before my internet connection cut out. I swear, I’ll eventually find that warehouse and free those little kids biking day and night to power the net. Either that or make the little bastards bike faster.

Our conversation started off with the typical pleasantries, changed direction to focus on the idea of a vacation (Not for me, for poor old Pat) somewhere when I get back, and hit the finishing line at “So, what are we doing with our lives anyway?” Pat initiated the conversation as he has become increasingly concerned with the cost of living. He wants to become a homeowner sooner than later, and his current situation isn’t conducive to homeownership. He’s been talking about possibly getting a second part-time job, a new primary job with a greater salary, moving out west with the other half of Newfoundland, or working the corner a few nights every week. All viable options. Well all except working the corner. I mean, I know competition breeds innovation, but I hate to think of the all the new depraved acts his poor old mother would have to endure. I kid.

In all seriousness, our conversation made me think of my current situation and the direction in which my life is headed. Like Pat, I still have no clear idea of where I am going or what I will become. I have a B.Sc. in Geography and an Advanced Diploma in Integrated Coastal and Ocean Management. I recently completed a work-term primarily based around GIS (Geographic Information Systems), something which I initially had no interest in but later came to enjoy. I’ve always enjoyed writing, have had an article published in a professional journal (ATLIS), and more recently, am having a lot of fun writing blog entries. I’m in the Philippines researching and engaged in a project related to ecotourism curriculum development for WPU (Western Philippines University). If at this point you’re thinking “What does all this have in common?” allow me to answer with “.....”.

People are often asked by their friends, family, and colleagues where they envision themselves to be in five or ten years. Often, individuals take the more proactive introspective route, asking without being asked. Some people have set goals for themselves, or have had a lifetime dream of some sort. Others have a passion. These people have the answer. Unfortunately, I am not one of these people. I have pretty much played it by ear thus far. Everything I have done (educationally and otherwise) I have enjoyed, and I can’t say that I honestly regret any of it. But, when I stand back and reflect on where I am in life, I also can’t help but wonder if I have made the right decisions. I wonder this while simultaneously wondering what other road I might, or could, have taken. I am in a constant state of wonderment...

I’ve been assured by friends that this outlook is normal for recent graduates, but I remain sceptical. I’m nearly 27 years old, and I feel that at this point in my life I should at least have some sort of direction decided on. A down payment for the rest of life. Maybe, as I tried to tell Pat, “It’ll all work itself out sooner or later”. I’m not the first person to be in a situation such as this and I’m certainly not going to be the last.

Although I may have second-guessed my decisions up to this point, I would not have been able to have some of the amazing experiences without making those very decisions. I sit here now, sipping a Calamansi Nestea, snacking on a package of orange flavoured Chokies (I have no idea how to pronounce that word; maybe ‘Choke-ease’ or ‘Chalk-ease’?) and reminiscing about that time I ran over a young Pilipino child. I firmly believe that life is all about experiences. And, I know full well that every decision I have made up to this point has obviously allowed me to get to this point. Still, it bothers me that I don’t have a plan even though I am fairly satisfied.

I’m all over the board.

I end this post no farther ahead than when I started. Maybe I’ll come home and try to snag a job with DFO. Maybe I’ll look into furthering my GIS education. Maybe I’ll continuing traveling for a while. Maybe I’ll take a shot at professional writing full- or part-time. Or maybe I’ll default on my student loan and professionally run from the Federal Government for the next few years. All distinct possibilities. For now I’ll focus on the task at hand: completing the ecotourism project and professionally fucking off. I’ll worry about making more pesky decisions when the time comes...in about two months...

Oh man...

Big Weekend: Part 2 - The Underground River Trip

Yo yo!

Saturday we decided to go to Sabang, the location of the world famous Puerto Princesa Underground River. It's been nominated as one of the new 7 wonders of the world (http://www.new7wonders.com/), and it definitely deserves the nomination. It has been one of the most amazing places I have ever had the opportunity to visit. But I'm getting ahead of myself. We had it planned out so we would get the 7 a.m. bus to Sabang, arriving at approximately 10 a.m. Then we would take the monkey trail, a trail that winds through the jungle to the site. I think it has monkeys. 2 hours later we would arrive at the site of the river, go on the tour, and get a 15 minute boat ride back to the bus. We were told by Jessica to arrive at the bus station no later than 6:30 a.m. because it was usually crowded. We were a little late leaving and didn't arrive at the station until 7:00 a.m. We arrived just in time to see the bus begin to pull away. I wish I took a picture because it was something you'd see in a movie. This bus was absolutely packed with people and items. Every seat was filled. Every square inch of standing room was filled. People were hanging off the back and sitting on the roof in between tires and crates of produce. It was fucking nuts. Jessica was sitting on the top next to a few other tourists and waved as she drove away; us standing there completely dejected.
We had to wait two hours for the next bus. Andrew slept for a while as I had a very, very long conversation with a nice enough lady. She was a city councilor for a town near Sabang and she talked a lot.

The bus finally left around 9:00 a.m. and we began the three hour journey to Sabang. The first half of the trip was fairly uneventful. I never had a window seat, so I couldn't get a get view of anything. At one of the stops one of the German dudes, Michael, got on and sat near us. After this, people started piling on the bus something serious so Michael decides he wants to try the roof. "You want to go up?", he asks me. "Sure, why not?", I answer. I wanted to get on the roof the minute I learned of roof travel weeks before when Jimmy first mentioned it and here was my opportunity. At the next stop we got out and piled on the roof. I sat in the front, as close to the cab as I could get without sitting on the windshield, right hand firmly attached to a gigantic truck tire. I have to say, sitting on the roof of the bus as it wound its way around a mostly dirt road was quite the experience. The road was winding, bumpy, and, at certain points, very steep. I'd be lying if I said I wasn't shitting my pants most of the time. At one point Michael (who was sitting on a bag of solid ice and getting a wet ass) calls to me:

"This is pretty dangerous"

"Uh huh"

It the bus did happen to flip over at least I'd go out like a champ.

I was fiddling with my camera, taking pictures and videos of the scenery when Michael shouted something. I figured he was talking to one of the other guys on the roof so I didn't pay him any attention. Michael shouted again. This time I heard what he said...it was "Watch out!" I looked up to see a nice sized branch coming towards my face. I ducked, but I wasn't quick enough, and got belted on top of the fucking head. At least it didn't break my nose and I learned an important lesson the fairly easy way. I spent much of my remaining time on the roof not being a moron, dodging branches, and having a laugh.

We arrived at Sabang around 12:00 p.m. and rushed off to register for entry to the Underground River. We didn't get to take the monkey trail because we were running late, so we got the boat ride instead. 15 minutes later we were a 5 minute walk from the site. We got there, registered, got our life jackets and helmets and realized that we wouldn't have enough time to complete the trip. The bus driver told us that he was leaving at 2:30 p.m. With the wait for the tour, the tour itself, and the 15 min boat ride back to the bus we figured we'd wouldn't get back until 3:00 p.m. We told the girl in charge of the registration and she assured us that she would radio the bus driver and he would wait. I was skeptical.

We eventually pile into a little boat with 6 other tourists and a boat operator. I have to say, the Underground River was one of the coolest places I have ever visited. To travel the whole length of the river takes about 3 hours round trip. On this tour we traveled about 20 minutes in and 20 minutes back. The cave was pitch black with smooth walls and high ceilings. Stalactites and stalagmites jutted everywhere from the cave ceiling and cave floor, respectively. Bats were flying everywhere, screeching a high pitched whine and shitting on everything. The boat operator warned us not to look up with our mouths open. I took the advice.

During the trip the boat operator, a funny middle-aged man, would point out various rock structures in the cave and tell us what they looked like. We were both sitting at the very back of the boat. A guy in the front had a flashlight hooked up to a battery and was moving it left and right at the boat operators request. This turned out to be the funniest part of the tour. Allow me to recreate the boat operators instructions:

"Right. Right. Up. Up. UP! Ahh Yesssssssss! This look like a big mushroom!"

"Left. Up. Left. Left. STOP! Ahh Yesssssssss! This look like a shark fin!"

"Right. Down. Right. Other Right. There! Yessssssssss! This look like a woman bent over. Sharon Stone!

And so on. It was pure gold.

After traveling back the way we came through the Underground River we had to boogie back to the bus. The bus was supposed to leave at 2:30 (it was 3:00), but was waiting for us at the request of the registration girl. God bless her heart. I was sorry I ever doubted her and impressed with the bus driver for actually waiting. What a guy. We got the boat back to the shore, clambering off, and booked it to the bus. At that moment it started to pour. We arrived at the bus and got on. Two tourist foreigners gave us a look as we got on and said "So it was YOU we were waiting for". Nobody else said anything but I'm sure none were overly impressed with the two wet goofballs who were holding up the show. We moved to the back of the bus and sat down, ready for the 3 hour ride back to Puerto Princesa. The bus ride back was pretty uneventful. Well that's not entirely true I suppose. I'm pretty sure the two kids next to me were loaded drunk. I could smell booze and they were acting retarded. I'm also pretty sure one kid asked me if I was gay. To this I responded, "Huh? Am I ok?". The kids went back to giggling like fools at this response. One was trying to tell the other, who I guess couldn't speak English, the following sentence:

"Sir, I apologize. I didn't know you could speak English".

So, this one kid keeps repeating this to the other kid, who I assume had some sort of debilitating brain damage as he could not repeat this sentence back. This went on for a solid 5 minutes. I've never come so close to assaulting a child as I did that day.

Eventually people start getting off the bus and I moved away from the kids. After the bus stopped, and a guy climbed through the window with a chicken in a cardboard box (...yup...), I decided I had enough of the inside of the bus. I climbed back onto the roof and it began to rain. One other dude, a native named Arnold was chilling up there as well. We had a great chat about this and that on the remaining hour back to Puerto. We finally got to the station around 6:00 p.m. It was a long day and a great experience. What a blast.

Oh oh oh! I also got some really kick-ass pictures of rocks!

Big Weekend: Part 1 - WHALE SHARK!!!

I'm sure you were all bored to tears this weekend waiting for my new blog post, frantically clicking "Refresh" over and over, intently scanning Facebook, desperately searching for any new scrap of information regarding the exciting life of Matthew W. Walsh. Well don't kill yourselves yet because I have quite the treat for you! Presenting, Matthew Walsh's BIG WEEKEND! (The caps emphasize the bigness).

I'm just messing around. Well, about the waiting by the computer, finger sore from repeatedly jamming on the left mouse key, eyeballs bleeding from the lack of blinking thing. I'm 100% serious about my BIG WEEKEND! Let me begin:

On Wednesday morning Duncan, our British photographer roommate, invited us to swim with whale sharks. Turns out that a metric bunch (ie, 10) were found swimming around Honda Bay. Apparently this is a big number for whale sharks, so Duncan urged us to go along for the experience. We agreed. Then I remembered I can barely swim. So I promptly canceled.
Duncan said it was probably for the best because there were too many people already, and the more people the worser. But, he wouldn't let me crap out so easy, so he reassured me that I didn't need to be a strong swimmer to enjoy myself. If all else failed I could cling to the side of the boat and have a blast. ".......fuck it", I proclaimed. And so a plan was born.

We rented the necessary gear and met the boat at Baywalk bright and early 6:00 a.m. Friday morning. Duncan wound up on a different boat somewhere or other and never actually ended up going out with us. We were early so we sat in the boat and waited for the others to arrive. Five other passengers soon arrived: Four Germans and an American. We later found out that only two of the German's were traveling together, but they all were staying at the same Pension house, and all arrived at approximately the same time, independently of each other. I have no logical reason to find this strange....but I find this strange. Anyway, we set sail and began the long trek to Honda Bay. Maybe 40 minutes into our journey the boat operator points to some churning, bubbling water, and shouts "Tuna Feeesh! Tuna Feeesh!" I had to smile. It was pretty cool though. Tuna were splashing around near the surface of the water, some jumping into the air, I assume to escape the nearby whale shark. I tried to get a picture with a tuna feeesh jumping in midair, but ended up just getting bubbly water. Shouting and pointing became a theme of the journey, so much so that Andrew and I devised our own set of criteria that the ideal whale shark ecotourim operator should possess. More on this soon.

About an hour and a half later we arrived to a bigger, bubblier batch of tuna feeesh at which point the boat tour operator ran the length of the boat shouting , "WHALE SHARK! WHALE SHARK! You can sweeem!" We were all unprepared for this declaration, so we missed getting in the water the first time. The second time the boat operator shouted "WHALE SHARK!" we were all ready. The three German men jumped into the water like the boat was sinking. Andrew and Jessica, the American, followed. I was last in, fearing that I'd sink like a stone. I didn't sink, but I quickly realized that my swimming ability was even poorer than I remembered. I decided to cling for dear life to the floats on the side of the boat and let the whale sharks come to me. Everyone was swimming around the boat, heads in the water looking at what I sure were beautiful majestic creatures. I didn't even see a damn tuna. Andrew tells a funny story of being directly in front of the creature as it swam towards him. Whale sharks can be over 10m in length, so I can only imagine the crazy experience this must have been. Here is a picture of a whale shark for reference.

Christ!

The way he tells the tale, that diver was him. I would have been terrified, but (un)fortunately for me all I was getting a good look at was the boat's paint job. Oh, and blue. I saw lots and lots of blue.

We continued putting around for the next hour or so, stopping whenever we saw thrashing tuna
and heard "WHALE SHARK!" I guess this is a good time to explain the proper procedure, as determined by Andrew and I, for pointing out a whale shark:

1. Jump at least 2 feet into the air.
2. Land with your feet spread at least 2 feet apart in a sumo stance.
3.Point at the area potentially containing a whale shark. The point can either be a thrusting stab motion (ie, like a fencer) or an overhand tomahawk-like swoop motion.
4. Scream "WHALE SHARK!!!" like a maniac. Pepper with "You can sweeem" as appropriate.

I'm only making fun because I love. Overall it was a great day, even though I never got to see a whale shark underwater. I did get to see one later as it surfaced. The back and the fin surfaced right in front of the boat. It was very cool. Oh, I almost forgot. At one point, the boat operator nearly clipped the whale shark and two of the German dudes. I'm sure that isn't very eco-friendly, but what do i know?

Later we ate a vegetarian meal on the boat and dropped two of the German dude's off at a local beach. The boat operator drove the boat right up to the beach, so that the German's could get out in about a foot of water. If I had my time back I would've taken a picture of this one child playing in the water. He gave the quintessential "What...the...fuck?" face I have ever , and will ever, see. It was priceless. Actually i did get one picture of the German's getting off the boat, but the child is running off-camera to the left. Shitty. All in all, the perfect end to a great day.

Ok, this entry is pretty big, so I'll post Part II in a separate entry.

Flying Pumpkins

Bugs are bigger in the tropics. It's a fact. Also, to compliment their novelty sizes, they all move at foolish speeds. I've gotten used to the size, but I'm still having severe speed issues. Anything I can't outrun scares the living shit out of me. For example, the last thing I needed today was to be chased down the hall by a hornet that could pass as a zeppelin. Actually I fibbed a little when I said I can deal with the size. The size had a lot to do with the terror in this case. I'm pretty sure it could smell fear, and I was sending out major puss vibes. I guess I shouldn't have gotten in his personal bubble with the Goddamn macro function of my camera. I'll go on record for all the agitated hornets reading this blog: "I apologize. I overstepped my bounds. It will not happen again". If (God forbid) I have an accident here, I want it to be completely out of my control. A Jeepney flipping over and crushing the living shit out of me would be a cool way to go out. Tripping over the coffee-table while running away from a bug, like a little girl, and sticking my head through the television would not. Actually, yeah it would.

The funny thing is this is less than a day after I gave Andrew a hard time for being afraid of a cockroach. He was talking on the phone when he pointed out a dark blob on the wall. I went over the investigate and found a cockroach that had to be a guy in a suit. Like i said, the size isn't usually the issue. It's the speed. So Andrew's noticeably disturbed by our guest and I'm making fun of him. I grab the trusty ol' camera to get a nice picture of the bastard, a superior shit-eating smirk on my face the whole time, when the cockroach decided to pull a fast one on me. It flew. It flew right over my head, landed on the upstairs step, turned around, gave me a wink (probably) and said:

"Didn't think I could fly did ya pal?"

"No sir, I did not".

So...cockroaches can fly...

I have a pic of the beast on FaceBook for those brave enough to look. The comments so far are pretty funny.

I'd like to thank everyone for the positive response to my pictures and blog entries. It's fun to wake up every morning and find new comments waiting for me. I really appreciate the interest, and I thank you. I miss all of you guys and can't wait to see you all again.

Until the next one, later.

Skulking Around

Western Philippines University (WPU for those in the know) has been preparing for an accreditation for the past three weeks. The goal of the university is to achieve Level Three accreditation. This will allow them to teach other higher level courses, attracting new students, and increasing overall revenue. To be completely honest, I have no idea what "preparing for an accreditation" actually entails, but to the best of my understanding, it basically boils down to the following sentence:

"Yeah, yeah, yeah...you're interns, we get it. Just calm the fuck down, chill out for a few weeks and we'll get around to talking to you...or not, whatever. Go away, I'm busy stapling important documents to other important documents".

So we wait. We research and we wait.

We've actually researched an insane amount of material regarding ecotourism, come up with a project plan, set objectives, and begun to determine what types of questions we want to ask ecotourism operators and tourists. The overall goal is to determine the ideal skill-set and knowledge level of an ecotourism operator, assess the actual skills and knowledge level of local ecotourism operators, and try to determine the knowledge level and perceptions towards ecotourism of local ecotourism stakeholders. Overall, we are providing data to WPU for the development of curriculum relating to a new proposed ecotourism course. Sitting back and reading that previous sentence for speeling mistaks actually makes me feel like we are accomplishing something, or at least on the way to accomplishing something.

We were called into an impromptu Wednesday afternoon meeting last week to answer some questions for the accreditation. The questions were pretty general, asking what we were doing at WPU, our goals and objectives, etc, etc. When we finished this meeting with the accreditor we had another brief meeting with Doc Ben, our immediate supervisor. We went over what we had been doing and where we planned to go, detailing our research and preliminary time-frame. We talked for a few minutes, Doc Ben listening intently the whole time. When we finally finished our spiel he remained silent and sat still for a few moments. Shifting in his chair and adjusting his posture he remarked:

"Sounds good, sounds good, but slow down".

Heh.

Today we went to Honda Bay. Honda Bay is a tourist destination where you can rent a boat and go island hopping to five different islands. We went as part of an opening ceremony for a new ecotourism project. The project is a floating classroom. Here, local fisherman educate divers on the surrounding reef ecosystem, explaining what a coral is, how it grows, the importance of coral reefs to fishing and biodiversity, among other things. After this we went to Luli Island, an island that is almost completely submerged during high tide. Here we ate some BBQ and seafood and explored a little. I came to realize that I have an unnatural obsession with the super macro function of my camera. No matter how boring something may be, I am determined to squeeze every last drop of excitement from it by zooming in. I spent 10 minutes trying to drain a rock of all its awesome when it struck me that I was on a beautiful island in a tropical paradise taking pictures of a fucking rock. I did manage to tear myself away from the wonders of the stone long enough to snap some pretty good pics of the island and the floating classroom though. All in all it was a pretty fun day. We saw some sights, had some eats, met some peeps, and snapped some rocks. Also, I burned. Next weekend we are planning a trip to see the Puerto Princesa Subterranean River.

I bet there are all sorts of rocks in there!

Shakey's

I've realized that my last few blog entries have been fairly long, and in one case, elaborate. Not all my stories will involve bible-thumping homosexuals or the consumption of hog-head. I don't want to peak too soon. My goal is to go at least 3 months before I jump-the-shark (See:www.jumptheshark.com), so let's slow it down a little bit. I do have a short story to tell, but first I'd like to provide a short list of the things I like and dislike about living in Palawan. The culture is different, the people are different, and the food is different. You know you aren't in Canada anymore when retail clerks not only spontaneously break out into a choreographed line dance, but actually seem to enjoy it. All 10 minutes of it. Andrew has captured this on camera and I will post it soon for you to judge.

Now, in no particular order: What I Likes!

1. I enjoy the fact that 90% of the people in this city (and most likely province) are ultra polite, friendly, and generally awesome. You walk up to the entrance to a fast-food joint, a guard opens the door and says "Hello sir" or "Welcome to *establishment* sir" while flashing a winning smile. You go to the counter to order some food and the employee welcomes you with a toothy grin. Oh shit....Pineapple Juice has ice... An employee notices this minor mistake, on his own no less, and runs away to fix the problem. I'm shocked that they don't thank you for taking a piss. Actually, now that I think about it, shocked isn't the right word. Disappointed.

2. NCCC.

3. The kids. I'm a local celebrity. Wherever I go the kids react in an assortment of equally awesome ways. I get a lot of smiles and "What's your name?", but the best is when the kids shout "Hey dude!!", "Wassup Man", and once "Evening Bro!". I was on an epic bike ride the other day and a short fat kid shouted "Wassup n***ah!". He was probably making fun of me, but I don't care.

Things I Don't Likes!

1. Getting ripped off. I realize I have tourist imprinted on my forehead, and I expect to pay a little more for things than the locals. I was warned of this and I fully accept it. However, I'm not paying three times as much as the next guy. I have to laugh when the tricycle driver says "20 pesos...". "Regular fare is 7 pesos you shitface", has been on the very tip of my tongue more than once. It may sound petty, getting worked up over paying what amounts to 50 cents rather than 15 cents, but it's the Goddamn principle. I do admire the balls it must take to ask a customer for over triple standard fare though, especially when there are approximately 20 zillion other tricycles on the road willing to charge normal fare. Maybe I'll carry around "An Introduction to Economics" and provide free lessons on supply and demand next time.

2. The heat. It's hot heat. Hot Hot Heat.

Anyway, we decide to go to Shakey's Pizza the other night. Apparently Shakey's is a big deal in the U.S. with thousands of stores nationwide. Heh. Who knew? It is one of the few "western style" fast food joints in the city. The only others are Chow King, Jollibee, and Dunkin Donuts. We had exhausted Jollibee and Chow King for the moment, and as far as I know Dunkin Donuts only sells donuts and shitty coffee. Andrew ordered pizza, I ordered spaghetti, and we decided to try 6 Shakey's Wings. Well the wings were delicious, but they held a dark secret. Eating your way to the center revealed that HA! Not cooked asshole!

Think rare steak, but more chickeny.

I'm no foodologist, and I'm pretty lenient when it comes to sanitary practices. I've even been known to eat off the floor on occasion. BUT, I'm pretty sure (correct me if I'm wrong Sweetapple) you're supposed to thoroughly cook chicken. Just sayin.

Andy summed it up best:

"Here at Shakey's, we will give you the uncontrollable shakes. Thats our guarantee"

Also, Happy belated Birthday Pat!