Posted at 9:53 am by Gelene Celis, on March 17, 2024
My family immigrated to Toronto, Canada on March 9, 2001.
I remember looking at the weather report before our flight and seeing a negative sign (-) before the “1” on the Celsius. I processed that it was minus 1 but I didn’t believe my logic, thinking there must be another explanation. “No, it’s below 0°C. The temperature there right now is below 0,” said my mother as we watched from our television in Quezon City, Metro Manila.
“What the fuck? What does that even feel like?” I thought.
I wore jeans, a long-sleeved shirt and brought one of those puffy jackets that my aunt had sent in from New York (she’s already been living there for about 5 years or so by the time we got the papers to bounce). I wore it in the Philippines and immediately started sweating. I thought that must be more than enough because it was so thick and insulated. I was proven wrong when we landed.
Before we arrived, however, we were bombarded with in-flight ads for antidepressants and I remember thinking, “WTF? Is it that bad out here? I thought these people were living better lives and here we are getting away from a developing country. Aren’t these guys a major key player nation? I don’t get it.” I didn’t get it until I got depressed myself, for years. Right around the time I started healing, I realized that the problem wasn’t depression; it’s spiritual poverty.
But I didn’t know that yet when I tested the stinky, puffy jacket once we landed. As we waited for our ride, I decided to wear the jacket and momentarily step outside to get a feel of -1°C. Once I stepped out, I couldn’t move. I was so cold. I remember not wanting my skin to touch my clothes which turned ice cold. I counted down from 10 to -1 before I mustered the courage to run back to the airport.
I remember seeing the piles of snow, neatly tucked and mounded on the lawn areas in the suburbs. I knew snow didn’t fall like that but I couldn’t understand then how the city managed to “organize the snow.” The Philippines doesn’t nearly have the budget nor the kind of facilities and technology to be ready for such things. I’ve only ever lived in Southeast Asia before then so I couldn’t fathom these ideas at the time.
Fast forward 23 years later, I went back to the motherland a very different person and then went back to Toronto afterward, also a little different.
One of the first things I did when I arrived back in Toronto was dispose of about a third of my wardrobe and several other items. I’ve been holding on to them thinking that they might, eventually, be useful but it’s been years since I even bothered interacting with these things. It just didn’t make any sense anymore.
After living off a backpack and a personal bag item for a month, constantly on the road (or on a flight or on a boat), interacting with locals and indigenous tribes who live richer lives with much less, I realized how much bullshit, nonsense, and excess I have allowed to accumulate in my life.
I brought a 45-liter hiking backpack (any larger and I would’ve needed to check it in which I was avoiding), a small sling bag, and a foldable water-resistant bag that I packed in. I didn’t have room to bring my own wetsuit, unfortunately (it’s just more comfortable for me plus rental ones tend to be worn out like a 3mm wetsuit ends up feeling like a 1mm or less lol) but I did manage to pack a GoPro with an underwater housing with some accessories, a dive mask, and my dive watch.
I actually overpacked. Imagine that lol.
Here’s a good chunk of my luggage: – 5 tops (tank and shirts) – 4 bottoms (all shorts) – 4 pieces of bras (I used my bikini tops as bras sometimes) – 6 underwear – 7 pairs of socks (thinking that I’ll be sweating all the time but then I got there and I didn’t wanna wear closed shoes – I wore sandals the entire time and only used my sneakers in the plane to and from Canada). I got rid of 5 of them during the middle of the trip (donated to hotel staff) – 3 bikini tops, 3 bikini bottoms – sandals (order true to size as I ordered half a size larger and it was a little too big) – toiletry bag – money belt (the type you can hide under your clothing) – GoPro accessory bag with the camera and some of the accessories (half of which I didn’t use)
I wore a sweater and a t-shirt with capri pants for the flight to and from Toronto. I never used capri pants when I was in the country (too hot that I just wore shorts) and I only ever used the sweater when I was in the mountains. It took up so much space it was a hassle. I did laundry a total of about 3 times in a month… and no, I didn’t bring a towel. Never needed to until I got to Buscalan (Whang-Od, the old lady tattooist’s village). I bought a $5 CAD / 200 PHP microfibre towel at a local mall that I was going to use for just that night.
As for being a solo female traveller: I’ve just done it so many times at this point that it wasn’t even something that I was that worried about. It’s only the second time I backpacked though, like ever, and solo. I did bring a portable door lock and someone advised me about putting some hot sauce in a spray container (brilliant) because I can’t bring pepper spray on board. I never had to use it though I kept it in hand for times when I was freaking out since I was, statistically speaking, a perpetrator’s best bet. Other than that, I was actually walking in the dark, at night, during some points in the more rural areas where people are less corrupt. The rule of thumb is that the bigger the population, the more likely you are to get ripped off. I got ripped off a total of probably about $50 CAD (2,000 PHP). In the Philippines, that can get you about 5 decent meals, public transportation for getting around in a city for a day, possibly a souvenir or two, and a pack of cigarettes.
Yes, I was smoking (again) because scuba divers smoke like fucking chimneys. I know you would think otherwise because we need healthy lungs but I suppose some rules don’t apply like how the Badjaus (indigenous peoples in Southeast Asia, some of which reside in the Philippines) are sea gypsies who spearfish while freediving in the ocean, expertly so that they have actually developed larger spleens to hold more oxygen. They, too, smoke like fucking chimneys.
“Ay yan ho mga Badjau (Oh there are the Badjaus!)” said the cab driver from one of my trips to the airport. He was pointing out to beggars during traffic. “Badjaus? Hindi po ba sila sa dagat nakatira? Sikat ho yun dun sa North America kasi nandun sila sa National Geographic. People are in awe of their abilities. (Badjaus? Don’t they live near the oceans? They’re popular in North America because they’re in National Geographic and BBC. People are in awe of their abilities,” I said.
“Ah ‘pag wala silang kita sa pangingisda, nagpupunta ho sila dito sa Maynila para malimus. Wala kasi silang alam na gawin kundi yun at wala rin silang suporta sa gobyerno. Alam naming native sila tsaka minsan nakakaawa pero napeperwisyo rin ang mga tao dito kasi tayo nagtra-trabaho at sila malaking kita sa pagmamalimos (Ah when they don’t earn anything on fishing or spearfishing, they come here to Manila to be beggars. They don’t have any other skills but that and they don’t have support from the government. We know they’re indigenous and sometimes we pity them but sometimes they’re a hassle too because we work hard and meanwhile they earn decent money on begging alone).” the cab driver replied.
Developing larger spleens to hold more oxygen is essentially the closest thing to being a mutant like X-Men or something as far as advanced genetic mutations go… and somehow, they’re beggars.
I told one of my friends about this while we were out for drinks.
Lotsa real talk with friends I haven’t seen in over a decade!
“Parang hindi accurate yung pinapakita nila sa Nat Geo/BBC, (It seems that National Geographic/BBC doesn’t paint the whole picture),” Roger said. “Yeah,” I replied. “I’m gonna write about it. People need to know.” My friend nodded in agreement.
And so my physical, mental, and emotional journey began, uncovering truths along the way, some of which, to be honest, I was not ready for but grateful to have known nonetheless.
It has been a privilege just as much as I gained more awareness of how privileged I am.
I saw some family and some old friends whom I hadn’t seen in well over a decade, some I hadn’t seen in about 25 years. Those may not be necessarily in my entries as they are the learnings for me and may be too personal to share. If I mention them, it’s because I feel there might be some universal lessons that others may pick up.
If I mention friends whom I interacted with, it’s because they were part of conversations that had a broader topic that I’d like to share.
Posted at 2:30 pm by Gelene Celis, on March 15, 2024
Manila (NAIA)
My first stop was Malapascua, Cebu. There are international flights in Cebu but I decided that this was my first stop after I had bought the tickets to Manila. Duh.
In any case, I arrived at the airport and the first things I did were get a local SIM Card (I opted for Smart with unlimited Data, 100 minutes talk, 100 minutes text for 30 days for ₱2,000 / $50 CAD – their plans are so much better than in Canada). After which, I walked around for the best exchange rates to get some cash. Word to the wise, if you’re scuba diving or doing a lot of other things in rural areas in the Philippines: get twice as much cash than you think you might need because most places don’t accept card nor Apple Pay. GCash, which is like Venmo in the US (Canada’s more on direct transfers via email) is widely accepted but if you don’t have a Filipino permanent address reflected on one of your official ID’s, you essentially can’t sign up for it.
I opened Grab, which is like Asia’s Uber. I tried to order my first ride to the hotel, which was only 5 minutes away, but it asked for confirmation on my Visa which was attached to my Canadian phone number. I ultimately ended up calling my bank to change the number over to my Filipino SIM card but that didn’t happen until later.
Kanto
“Kanto” in Tagalog means “corner” so it’s like a shop by the corner type thing. Yes, I was up by 5am. My flight was around 8 and I was jetlagged.
The next day, I ordered breakfast using Grab. Oh man I was too excited with the pandesals and Filipino food!
I was too excited that I didn’t realize that these were plant-based. I have no qualms with plant-based but I thought the serving would’ve been bigger. In any case I ordered a couple of items.
Ah! I remember the feeling of sitting there and anticipating the delivery. The hotel had a dining area but my booking didn’t come with free breakfast + their hours weren’t conducive to my flight time.
I knew I was ordering something that was, probably, by local standards, expensive… but I didn’t care. It’s not that I’m rich but the exchange rate worked in my favour and I saved up for this trip. I’m pretty meticulous with my money (annoyingly so sometimes) and I can be particular with my spending.
After eating, I checked out and headed to the airport.
Cebu
Honestly, besides the flight, there is nothing nor anything official that is on Google that will help you get around. I found my way by reading other blogs and an advice from a friend. So, here’s how to get to Malapascua:
The cab I got actually dropped me off at an area to the side of the terminal. It’s really not advisable to go anywhere unofficial but… it felt right, so I did it. I was the last passenger in the van and the seat I got wasn’t even a proper seat. It was a box right beside one of the seats by the sliding door. It turned out to be a great ride as I had a very insightful conversation with a local from Medellin, Cebu.
“May lahi ka ba? (Are you mixed?)” he asked. The direct translation would’ve been “Do you have a race?” lol. It’s one of those things that doesn’t make any sense if you translate it word for word.
“Wala. Pilipino lang. Pero lahat naman tayo may lahi. (No. Just Filipino. But we’re all mixed, really).” I replied.
He nodded. “Mukha ka kasing mestiza (It’s ’cause you look half – either white or Spanish though “mestiza is traditionally referred to Spanish as it stemmed from during those times).”
Yes, I’m aware of how I look. I’m always going on about colonial mentality which is significantly rampant in Filipino culture (whitening creams, ashamed of accents and/or flat nose etc) though I see the irony on my behalf because like he said, I look mestiza (and while I still detect a little bit of an accent specially when I’m inebriated lol I mostly sound North American these days). It’s not my fault though and since I reap the social (sometimes industrial) advantages, the least I can do is acknowledge it.
Beauty is, arguably, another tool like money and power along with other materialistic things. I’m not beyond vanity, mind you. I do body mods after all since that is my definition of beauty for myself.
=========================================
Malapascua Island
I was immediately greeted by a canvasser when we got off the boat. He was trying to promote island hopping and another dive shop but I had already booked with Johandive which had lodging and a dive shop. I figured to do that to make life a little easier for myself since I was diving anyway… but things never turn out the way we plan, most especially when you’re backpacking.
There are no modes of transportation on the island because it’s so small, except for motorbikes where you hop on the back and they put your luggage or backpack in the front. I opted for that in the beginning because… I didn’t know what I was doing lol. When I found out that the lodging was only a 10-15 minute walk from the port, I stopped going on rides and just walked. I usually mix electrolytes with my drink (get a sugar-free one like Biosteel, which is super effective) which was much needed here; super hot and humid.
it’s funny yeah like I actually barely ate during this trip; so much so that I felt myself, inadvertently, going in a ketosis state that afternoon. It’s not a bad thing but if you’re not deliberately doing keto, your brain gets confused and insomnia or keto insomnia becomes a thing. I don’t know the exact science but I’ve done keto for years to know that if I don’t fully commit to it, I’m essentially gonna have problems with sleeping. I was already still jetlagged so I loaded up on carbs just to get myself out of that state.
As I found out, when it’s too hot, your body decreases your appetite to protect itself from overheating. I just bought food to go and ate in a cool area.
The lodging was really nice but I found that they’re a smaller dive shop and they don’t go on trips unless they have enough people (makes sense), which doesn’t always happen.
view from my balcony
sunrise from in front of Johandive
my room
my room
nighttime in front of Johandive
I did think about the island hopping bit because I was going to be on the island for 6 days. I know it’s a long time but I figured, it’s my first stop and I’m probably going to be jetlagged for half of it so I decided to give myself that time to kind of adjust my headspace sorta “norm.” lol. Cute. Little did I know the culture shock I was to experience on my very first diving day.
I called the canvasser who hooked me up with Atlas Divers (great crew!). It was late afternoon when we connected so it had gotten dark after we did the transactions in the shop. He led me to a vegetarian restaurant called VillaPotenciana Restaurant. It was delicious and the place was pretty. They even sold tribal masks, one of which I purchased.
VillaPotenciana Restaurant
I initially booked 4 dives; 1 being the refresher, 2 fun dives (shallow water, just around the shore to start me off with), and a night dive.
Yeah… that didn’t happen. lol
The last time I went diving, I almost drowned. It was a very traumatic experience for me and I’m not feeling particularly inclined to write much about the details but I’ll say this: I was able to execute my safety training (which was nice) and I was fine but mentally, I was not.
It took me two days to finish my refresher. I was actually coming to terms that I might not see the sharks as I was pretty upset when I found out that I was having problems.
“Did you finally finish it?” Eliot (from Belgium).
“Not yet. Last time I went diving there was an equipment issue 30m/100 ft underwater. I almost drowned. Apparently, it’s heavily embedded in there”, I pointed to the back of my head
“Oh yeah. That would do it,” he replied.
I was doing the course with his girlfriend, Sheryl. “Where are you from?” I asked.
“Belgium.”
“Oh cool. Are you fully certified then?” He wasn’t taking any courses. He was with a different divemaster.
“Yeah, I got certified in Belgium. It’s way more intensive there like it’s a total of about 9 weeks to finish it unlike here.”
“That’s crazy!”
“Yeah. It’s about 2-3 weeks of just swimming and slowly getting into it. I have to say though it’s good for preparation. I did the night dive last night and it was chaos. People were bumping into each other and I couldn’t tell who was what. I’m like ‘What is this?'”
“Oh yeah. Here it’s just like 3 days or so. What’s to see in Belgium?”
“Nothing, really. Most are dead corals though every now and then we would see a small fish and we’d be so happy.”
I paused, “So, like, why do you dive there?”
“It’s the same question I’ve been asking myself,” he replied.
Malapascua Dive Spots – Atlas Divers
Somewhere in the convo (I forgot how) it came up that he was half-Arabic (I forgot the country).
“Yeah, I’ve already checked your tattoos.” he said.
I have “Maktub” in Arabic on my right ankle and “Fitrah” on my chest.
“Yeah, I have a friend who’s Palestinian. She grew up in Montreal and lived in Toronto for a bit. She taught me all these things about Islam. ‘Maktub’ I got from one of my favourite books though, ‘The Alchemist’ by Paulo Coelho. It roughly means ‘It is written’ or ‘fate.'”
He nodded. He knew the book.
“And then on my chest is ‘Fitrah’ for like innate human nature, like, Oneness with existence sorta deal. I wish I spoke Arabic though.” I said.
“Oh yeah it’s a difficult language to learn,” he said.
“And the writing…” I added.
“Yeah, the writing is right to left.” he said.
“Oh. That’s even worse! It’s good to know different languages though.”
“Absolutely. I’ve always wanted to visit Canada. Do you know French?” he asked.
“Unfortunately not. I actually graduated high school in the Philippines right before we moved to Canada where they put me in Grade 11. The curriculums are just different I guess but it was good they did that because I would’ve been so culture-shocked had I gone to college right away. Plus, like, yeah, French is technically our second language but it’s not like here in the Philippines like English is the second language and everyone speaks it. Out in Canada, it’s spoken mostly in Quebec. I know Tagalog though and I tend to pick up Spanish easily when I practice. It’s interesting, these things. Tagalog and English don’t have masculine/feminine on inanimate objects though. That’s usually what trips me up like huh how is this table a woman? In Tagalog, these things are joined or truncated. Like the table is feminine, yeah so it’s ‘La Mesa.’ In Tagalog, we turned it into one word so it’s just ‘Lamesa.’ It’s interesting to me, these things, especially how it evolves when you go cross-cultural and then it can give you insight on society, history etc you know.” I said.
He nodded, “Absolutely. I’m from the southern part of Belgium and I’m lucky because so many different languages are spoken there.”
He listed out 5 languages! Good for him!
“North America is…”
“Oh we’re so young,” I said. “We’re only like 150 years old. Not a lot of history. And most people only know English. It’s tricky, yeah, again with cross-cultural things because when you know different languages, it helps shape, affect, and expand the way you think…”
He nodded, “Yeah, and when someone knows only one language and then you know that language and some other language, you’re essentially adjusting to their way of thinking but if you’re in a conversation or any kind of relationship…” he motioned his hands to indicate a “give and take” message.”
“Yeah, it should be a symbiosis,” I said.
“Yes!” he gleefully agreed.
*Never too late to learn another language though being friends with people from different backgrounds – and having real talk with them about in-depth topics (not just daily grind things but philosophies and worldview things) – could make up for not knowing another language. Also, just because you’ve travelled to certain countries, it doesn’t automatically mean you’re cultured unless you’ve immersed yourself. Sometimes I go to Mexico just to dive and not really immerse myself in the culture and I don’t go on claiming otherwise. FYI*
I kept panicking during my refresher. It wasn’t until I got stubborn and allowed myself to openly whine and bitch about the things I had to do that didn’t want to do that was I able to successfully get through it #ExpressYourself lol
Sometimes we have to let these out of our systems, as long as it’s not directed towards anyone and is just an outward expression (please don’t take this out of context) like I tell my clients to cuss when I’m tattooing them, I’m personally all for it.
The direction it will take is tied to emotional intelligence.
“I finally passed it! I was already coming into terms that maybe I won’t see the sharks and just when I accepted it, it happened!” I told Eliot. I was overjoyed even though I was thinking the worst at the onset, “Oh no! Is this the end of my diving? Am I ever going to be in the water again? Is this chapter of my life done?” 😭
But there was something else that upset me more.
Oysters
Everyone thought I was Ms Fancy Pants for loving seafood, in Toronto. But where I come from it’s common and some of which are actually considered to be poor man’s food.
I didn’t value it then just like they don’t value it now… and when you’re unaware of your worth (or I suppose if you’re in poverty), you make way for greed to take advantage of you.
I mean, I was talking to fellow diver tourists from Belgium who was all “I’d have to pay hundreds of Euros for this and they’re like ‘Whatever’” just like how I used to be.
I was so mindblown and they’re like “meh” and I’m like “bruh.”
I know better now (knowledge acquired via privileges) and I can’t help but think about how much of those pretty pennies do these people, who did the dirty work, get?
If it’s so fancy, how come they’re still struggling earning to make a living?
It upset me so much that – well, probably paired with the jetlag, tiredness, me being an HSP, and then being socially/culturally shocked – I cried myself to sleep that night. I mean, I already know these things in theory just as I’ve come across them before. It’s different from back then, I guess, because I’ve been living in my Canadian bubble. It’s different too when you’re up, close, personal, and immersed in it vs knowing in theory.
I wish there was something measurable and significant I could do and since I’m not in a position of power nor enough privileges to be able to, I write and vlog in hopes of spreading awareness and maybe more people will care, and then maybe eventually it will change.
“You should charge more when you sell the oysters.” I told them.
“Mga 500 isang pala (About 500 pesos per pail – that’s about $13 CAD),” they replied.
“That’s nothing. We pay $20-30 sometimes a hundred or more per plate which is a very small portion of that pail. You need to double or triple your price. That’s still cheap out there,” I insisted.
They laughed. They’re really nice out here unlike in Boracay which is very touristy and there’s so much corruption and deceit by tourists and locals alike.
“No. No. You need to charge more. People who are already well-to-do are making a big buck out of this and you get peanuts. It’s unfair,” I told them.
“Sanay na ho kami ma’am. Basta may makakain. (We’re used to it ma’am. As long as we have something to eat),” they said.
“Yes, but your freediving skills are big game. You should charge more,” I kept telling them.
We went on a little convo about how this hits me on a personal level because I’m Filipino and we immigrated to escape poverty, like what they’re experiencing. I told them out there we learn how to play the game (even though we’re still constantly losing) because of discrimination, historical oppression and abuse etc you know.
They just nodded. They know… but at the same time, they don’t want to dupe anyone (the price they charge is normal).
Just because it’s popular, or “normal”, it doesn’t make it right. They’re just adhering to what’s contextually right… but in the grander scheme of things, it’s pretty fucked up.
However, I do admire them for doing what they believe to be right which is how I know I can trust them for what comes next.
Thresher Sharks
We joked around a bit. They were cool and they were really stoked that they had a Filipino client because most of the tourists in the area are Europeans, who are notorious for hating Americans lol. They tend to ask me where I’m from though they already know I’m North American because of my accent. When I tell them I’m from Canada, their faces light up and they go on about how they want to visit Canada but not the U.S.
The U.S. just gets a bad rep with politics and the media. I would stick by New York a bit because I see the pros and I even tell them to go visit Brooklyn and to make sure to take the subway if they like avant-garde, couture, and street sort of art. I personally love the grimy sort of charm of New York subways. I’ve seen and can imagine, some crazy shit ala Lady Gaga or Thierry Mugler sort of fashion using it as a backdrop.
Don’t shoot the messenger.
But anyway, the boat crew – all local – were jokes.
We had some real talk along with the jokes. From what I gather, making a living is difficult and it’s a constant struggle so they stay sane by changing their outlook and making a piss out of things when they can.
Great attitude 🥰
I actually got myself a private divemaster as per their advice, which I agreed with. I made a point to let him know that I had issues so he knows what he’s dealing with. I told him about techniques I’m using (countdown from 10, singing, having a song in my head – really worked).
“Oh, that happens a lot. It happened to me several times. It’s like a meditation. Breathe.” said the Spaniard in reply to when I told him I was panicking.
Everyone, crew & fellow divers, were so sweet and encouraging. They gave me fist bumps and smiles all around. “You got this,” was the gist of it. In case you’re reading this, thank you 🙏🏼 meant a lot to me 🥰❤️🤗
I’ve gone diving with others who’ve panicked before and I’ve given them encouragement as well. It took me some time to catch up on giving myself some compassion. We can’t really extend that if we don’t have it for ourselves.
Atlas Divers, by the way, was the only boat with a second floor and hammocks underneath: super epic win. The ride to the dive spots were about 2 hours away so these things were very much appreciated and enjoyed. It’s amazing how the little things can really count.
There was a Spaniard, the 2 Belgians I met already, another Belgian, a Scottish couple, and a Filipina-Canadian (myself) with the local crew. It was a great, mixed crowd which I thoroughly enjoyed. It’s really not just all about the whole equality thing but when you get a diverse set of people coming from many backgrounds and cultural/social realities, you get different perspectives and input. I can’t stress this enough: the more perspectives you have – that are working towards the same or a similar goal – you’re more likely to spark innovation.
The Spaniard was sweet and also super jokes. He’s gone diving with thresher sharks the day before and he’s doing it because, as he put it, “I love it. It’s like I make love to the sharks.” lol. Classic.
“Exhale small amounts when the shark comes close. Just little bubbles (he demos it). If you exhale a lot then they go off,” he tipped us.
It’s funny yeah because I did this, it’s now part of my “normal” but it was defo not the case right before. We were all apprehensive (except for the Spaniard who couldn’t wait to make love to the sharks).
“It’s kind of counter-intuitive, what we’re doing,” said Eliot.
“Yeah, I’m nervous too,” I said.
Everyone else was quiet and nervous. We all had to get up at 5am because we had to be at the shop at 5:45 too so we were scared and low on energy lol. Good times.
They started off lurking in murky water. They would swim in circles (not circling us though that would give me a heart attack). For 2-3 minutes they stayed in the murky areas but then they would come closer and closer… and closer.
It was kind of cute how curious they are and it was interesting how mostly un-terrified I was. One of the sharks got pretty close like 2-3metres/6-10ft close… yeeeaaah. At that point, I kept looking at my divemaster and signaling, “Sharks. Too close.” To which he would signal back, “It’s okay.”
They were pretty harmless though. It’s mostly just media brainwashing and a headspace thing. I don’t know about the others but part of the reason why I did it is because well it’s cool and I wanted to break my own barriers.
And my barriers I did. We actually did several dives to see the threshers. Honestly, after the last dive, I was done. We crept this one shark lol like we hid by the corals to get this shot.
After this, honestly, I was like, “Okay. I wanna swim around and see other fish, man.”
We were all super chill after the dive. It’s like, cool. That was actually fine. Whatevs lol. We all started chatting and I found out that Eliot and Sheryl were travelling for a couple more months with an open itinerary. I directed them to Thailand, specifically Koh Lanta.
“Yeah, we were avoiding Phuket. I heard it’s party town, drunk people, prostitution abuse, petty crimes…” he said
I nodded. “Yeah, I know. It’s why I avoided Boracay.” (✌️ I heard it’s different now but it has left a sour taste in my tongue – it’s where I learned diving and accumulated dive logs. I had fun then but I was in my early 20’s so it’s a different story now).
I showed him photos from my dive in Similan Islands and Kled Kao Wreck.
“Kled Kao Wreck is a spot you can access from Phuket and surrounding islands. Similan Islands you can do a day trip but it’s not really worth it like it’ll take 5 hours to get there. It has to be a liveaboard. I did an overnight liveaboard with 7 dives, including a night dive.”
He made the money gesture with his fingers (liveaboards are notoriously expensive like 5k/week is not uncommon). I laughed. “No, no. This one was affordable. This was 4 years ago so I won’t know pricing now but back then it was like $700 Canadian… that’s like $550 USD,” I said.
“Hmmm. About €450?” he asked.
“Yeah, back then it was.” I wrote it on my iPhone Notepad which he took a photo of.
On my walk back to my room from the dive shop, I found myself thinking, “Cool. I’ve seen the sharks. I’m bored. Time to bounce.”
I packed up my stuff to get ready for the ride back the next day.
I actually had an overnight stay in Cebu City because my flight was around 8:30 and I wouldn’t be able to make that if I’m coming straight from the island. Ferries don’t start running until around 6 or so.
Cebu City
I explored a bit in Cebu City and here are some highlights:
Yap San Diego Ancestral House
This is one of the oldest houses in the Philippines, apparently. It was built during Spanish colonial times with Chinese settlers during which. It’s been there since the 1600’s and has been passed down to several generations. It was kinda creepy in a cool way.
Cebu City Night Market
I lucked out on my lodging (Cebu City Backpacker’s Hostel) because it happened to be right in front of the night market.
Posted at 12:30 pm by Gelene Celis, on March 9, 2024
Back in Manila
I spent Christmas travelling (flying back to Manila from Sablayan/Apo Reef). I spent New Year’s also travelling (ride from Buscalan to Sagada). So it’s only natural that I spent my birthday on the road too (bus back to Manila).
There’s this superstitious belief that whatever you do in the New Year will set the tone for the rest of the year. Honestly, my 2023 was shit and it started with shit as well. I’m hoping 2024 will be better and my being constantly-on-the-road paves the way for positive energy.
I realized that I really like being on the road and I’m a goal-oriented person which doesn’t serve me well with many instances in Life where it’s really more about the process and the journey. This trip was a bit of both. I get bored once I’m done what I went there for and hidden gems are inadvertent finds like the grassroots Christmas thing in Sablayan.
Nothing ever really completely turns out the way we plan. In doing these things, the way I see it, I prepare myself for unexpected events in many other aspects in my Life. It’s not that I make things difficult on purpose; I just anticipate that things are going to get delayed, you’re going to find holes or mistakes within your planning etc which is why it’s always good to leave some padding on our schedules, budgets, and other factors within our planned routes.
I told my friends that I’m prepping for yet another jetlag. One of my good friends works night shift so it was perfect: he got off at 11pm so my other good friend and I waited for him (she didn’t have a set schedule).
I drank 2 espresso shots late in the day, to keep me up, before we headed out for some drinks and pool.
I noticed that my friend was pretty good at it.
“Yeah I used to cut classes in high school to go play billiards with a friend,” Roger said.
“Hindi na ako masyado magaling (I’m not that good anymore),” he adds.
“Well I guess now you need to cut work,” I jokingly replied.
I used to be somewhat decent at it in high school but I currently suck at it since I’ve had zero practice.
We compared tattoos afterwards as he went to go see Whang-Od as well. He was actually the one who gave me a heads up on what to expect and some rundown as well with regard to the tour guides.
Gelene and Roger’s Buscalan Tattoos
“Alanganin kasi yung dates mo (Your dates were weird),” he said in relation to my trip to Whang-Od. I went there on December 31st and left on January 1st so I didn’t have a lot of options.
“Mahirap maghanap ng joiner tour na maalaga talaga sa kliyente at para kang kaibigan at masaya kayong lahat. Karamihan kasi ang tingin sa’yo, pera lang (It’s difficult to find city tour guides who care about their clients, like you’re friends and the trips feel like a bunch of friends going. Most of them just look at you as money),” he explains.
I was ranting about the tour group I went with. I just thought they were so disrespectful and yes, while the Butbuts won’t do anything about his obnoxiousness because they bring in income, I think it’s awful that they’re taking advantage of it and inflating their worth to the tribe based on the tangible things they bring to the table. It’s like a paradigm for all things I hate about Western culture; materialism, greed, excess, deceit… games we play that create internal and external wars, greatly injurious to our well-being and our humanity.
Once we were done playing pool. We walked over to a bar and had a lot of real talk with our mutual friend, Kitsi.
I’m not going into detail with her personal troubles but when she told us, Roger asked me for a cigarette (he doesn’t smoke) because it stressed us both out. I got so pissed at one point that I told her to hold off on access on certain things when it came to the person in question.
However, I will narrate some things she told us during the drug wars when the former president straight up gave the cops license to kill when they catch drug users/sellers.
Apparently, they had a quota per day that they needed to fill so planting drugs on random people became a thing.
She told us about a pedal trike victim.
image courtesy of Gulf News
“Gabi na nun pero hindi pa masyadong late kaya marami pang tao. May pulis na isa at pinlantahan ng droga. Sumigaw yung driver, ‘Pinaplantahan ako! Pinaplantahan ako!’ Yung mga tao humiwalay. Walang gusto tumulong kasi ‘pag tinulunga mo, lagot ka rin. Sumisigaw sya ng ilang beses at dinadalian yung pag bisikleta nya. Tapos maya maya narinig na lang namin ang baril. Patay (It was nighttime but it wasn’t too late so there were still a lot of people; like a crowd. There was one cop who planted drugs in the trike. The driver started yelling, frantically, ‘They’re planting the drugs on me! They’re planting the drugs!’ The crowd parted. No one wanted to help because if you do, you’ll be in trouble too. He yelled a couple more times as he sped his cycling. Then we heard a gunshot and he was dead).”
So much heartbreak 💔
We all have a tendency to be petty, yeah, moreso than I would like to admit. But when you come across stories like these, that hits close to home since your friend experienced it just as you’ve witnessed similar things in the past, it changes something inside of you, I think.
It’s quite sad, really. My mother told me that her parents (my grandparents) never had plans to immigrate during their days because life was good. They were able to afford decent homes and such with a teacher’s salary and the cost of living was in good quality… and then fucking corrupt politicans came into power and stole $62 billion USD worth in Philippine Pesos, upheld the martial law (a lot of riots came with it), and ultimately fucked us.
After which, it just feels like there is no salvation in sight… it’s why my family left. Most, millions, of people in this country – and other countries for that matter – do not have the privileges that I have which I do not take for granted at all. I think it’s why I wept in Cebu; I already knew these things happen just as I’ve encountered similar things in the past but when it’s in your face, when you’ve been living in your sheltered life out in the West for so long, it’s a shock to the system. It hurts to not be able to do anything to help and I know even if I’m able to come up with something, it’s probably not going to be as measurable and will be more for myself to alleviate my own pain. It hurts… even as I type this, it hurts.
When my friend dropped me off my hotel, he asked, “Are you gonna be okay? You’re not gonna cry in the plane?”
I replied,”No. I’m gonna rethink my life.”
Toronto
I would usually feel a sense of sadness when I’m leaving in conclusion to a trip but I didn’t feel it here. When I got back home, actually, I felt my energy quite uplifted. I felt my perspective change with regard to how I see my life but the very first thing I did was get rid of about a third of my wardrobe and other stuff that I have no use for nor love.
But I did put up a wall dedicated to reminding me of this particular journey.
It’s composed of the fan that my friend gave me, the bamboo sticks that were used for my tribal tattoos, the mask I got in Malaspascua, and a wooden necklace right on top of my Buddhist scroll (not pictured) that reminds me of one of my values.
My home has been a constant work in progress as I change things around here and there especially around New Year’s because I feng shui’d my place. I don’t mind. They’re labours of love and sometimes, the things that are put up here are literally stemming from places with people whose blood, sweat, and tears – including my own.
Life is never easy just as I know that good things come with bad and vice versa because these things tend to come together to maintain some kind of existential equilibrium. This is why I don’t believe in just “thinking positive” without considerations for the negative because the negative teaches us lessons.
We never really get to know a culture until we feel the way they feel with their worldviews because the intellect can only go so far. Like I always say, emotions – along with the senses – have a direct line to the subconscious so significant lessons are always emotional.
It’s been about two months since I got back, as I type this, and I’m still processing some things.
“We tend to think of the rational as a higher order, but it is the emotional that marks our lives. One often learns more from ten days of agony than from ten years of contentment.” – Merle Shain
Keep treading your path, fellow traveller. It is only when embark on adventures that we get to experience various paradigms of Life.
As for being a solo female traveller: I’ve just done it so many times at this point that it wasn’t even something that I was that worried about. It’s only the second time I backpacked though, like ever, and solo. I did bring a portable door lock and someone advised me about putting some hot sauce in a spray container (brilliant) because I can’t bring pepper spray on board. I never had to use it though I kept it in hand for times when I was freaking out since I was, statistically speaking, a perpetrator’s best bet. Other than that, I was actually walking in the dark, at night, during some points in the more rural areas where people are less corrupt. The rule of thumb is that the bigger the population, the more likely you are to get ripped off. I got ripped off a total of probably about $50 CAD (2,000 PHP). In the Philippines, that can get you about 5 decent meals, public transportation for getting around in a city for a day, possibly a souvenir or two, and a pack of cigarettes.
Gelene 