Science and Medical Writer
Home
Medical Writing
Science Writing
Writing Samples
My Career Path
Philippines
Sheepherding
Philippines
My wife Ivy and I met in Washington, DC in 2001 and dated for several years until Visa issues forced her to move back to her native Philippines. We decided to get married but had to wait about a year for her fiancé Visa to be approved, so I spent several months there during 2004 while we waited, including six weeks in March and April, punctuated by a brief trip to south Australia.
I traveled for another four weeks in November, with the time spent mostly in Manila but with a brief trip to the town of Plaridel, in the province of Misamis Occidental, on the southernmost island of Mindanao. This is the home town of my father-in-law Fred, whose father immigrated from China in the first part of the 20th century and opened a store that is still operating. His granddaughter is carrying on the entrepreneurial tradition, running the store, but she also recently opened a gas station and a hotel.
Later, Ivy and I traveled to the island of Balicasag, which lies just off the island of Bohol in the Visayas region of the Philippines. Balicasag is one of a seemingly infinite number of small islands of the Philippines, many of them with dive resorts. The island is special to us because we were staying there when we received the news that Ivy’s fiancé Visa had been approved.
Balicasag is a coral island, formed from the gradual buildup of living coral. I saw this first hand when I went snorkeling and swam out to the outer rim of the reef. From the shore, the sea bottom gradually deepened to 20 to 25 feet, and then dropped away in a sheer wall into the blue depths of the ocean. I floated there, open ocean in front of me, broken only by the vague shapes of fish that could have been ten feet away or hundred feet – the distance was indecipherable in that deep blue backdrop. Below me, the layers of coral dropped away into the blackness. Later, I walked around the island and visited with some of its 800 or so inhabitants, who lived in small, comfortable homes. Chickens and goats roamed freely. Near the highest point of the island, I saw more a bit of exposed coral – more evidence of the island’s foundation.
The November visit was great fun. I stayed with the extended family in the house behind the storefront, and was the object of a great deal of interest. Most people in the Philippines speak English because they are taught it in school, but many people aren't comfortable speaking it. So I spent a lot of time listening to Visayan, a language somewhat related to the more widely spoken Tagalog. I didn't have a lot of conversations with anyone besides Ivy and her immediate family -- that is, until the young kids discovered that I was willing to clown around with them. They climbed all over me and dubbed me 'Uncle Big Nose,' happily chattering away in English.
Ivy and I returned to the Philippines in April, on the occasion of her grandmother’s 95th birthday, which was celebrated with a big party with lots of food, family, and music.
After the party, we returned to Balicasag and then spent a few days in the city of Tagbilaran, which is on Bohol. We rented a car and drove around the rural villages in the mountains to the north and east of the city, including a handicraft market in the town of Antequera, which has a well-known handicraft market. We arrived too late to see the market at its bustling peak, but we did see several jeepneys filled with reed baskets and other goods, ready for delivery to stores and marketplaces throughout the Philippines. Away from the main vendors, we stumbled across a knife vendor who sold hand-made knives, scythes, and other agricultural implements. These simple implements with undecorated wooden handles were clearly meant for locals, and I quickly bought a set for use at home.
Ivy had to leave after two weeks, but I stayed an additional week. I spent several days on the comparatively remote island of Palawan in the southwest Philippines, including a couple of days in the regional capital of Puerta Princesa. There, I spent a Sunday morning in a packed hotel ballroom, eating from a buffet with hundreds of others and watching a live telecast of a boxing match between Philippine national hero Manny Pacquiao and Ricky Hatton. It was quite a stirring fight and I think I was cheering as loud as anybody when ‘PacMan’ knocked Hatton out at the end of the second round.
The other highlight of the trip was a brief exchange I had with a motorcycle driver as I was riding in his sidecar.
After almost three weeks in the Philippines, the strain of being a constant center of attention had begun to weigh on me. I wanted desperately to be accepted and unnoticed. I had just arrived in Puerta Princesa and hired the driver to take me to my lodging. As usual, I was the only white man in sight. The young motorcycle driver took his eye off the traffic for a moment, turned to me and asked, in English, a quintessential Filipino question. “Do you have kids?”
I got this question frequently – children and family are very important in the Philippines – and I welcomed it. It was a question he might ask of anyone, Filipino or foreigner. For a moment I didn’t feel as though I stood out quite as much. And because I was trying out my fledgling Tagalog, I answered ‘hindi pa.’ Not yet. He smiled at my clumsy attempt at the language and answered: ‘bakit?’ Why? I laughed a little and said I don’t know.
Recognizing my limited language skills, he added in English: “Your wife?” At first I thought he was asking if she didn’t want kids, but he was smiling and I realized it was a joke – a machismo joke that is also very Filipino, for as a rule, Filipino men take great pride in their masculinity. The joke, of course, was that it couldn’t be any lack of virility on my part – it must be my wife.
Ivy and I on the island of Corregidor, the site of a major World War II battle.
My father-in-law Fred near the fish hatchery that he helps operate near Laguna de Bay.
Rice drying. A common sight in the provinces, where traffic sometimes slows because half of a two-lane road has been coopted by rice farmers.
Colorful jeepneys lined up for passengers outside near one of Manila's megamalls.
Sunset over Manila Bay.