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Account of Feb 2nd, 3rd and 4th written on the 4th at the Siargao Inn


  
:

î
 
  
: 
Flight - Beijing-Manila, 1:00am-5:30am;
Flight - Manila-Cebu, 8:00am-9:15am;
Flight - Cebu-Surigao 10:00am-10:50am;
Ferry Ȃ Surigao-Siargao 12:00pm-3:00pm
Bike Ȃ Dapa, Siargao-General Luna, Siargao, 3:00pm-3:30pm.

º


 : 14 ½ hours

ÿ  

Itǯs the rainy season in the Philippines, which means that this beautiful archipelago
is subject to flits of rain each day and the occasional big storm. At least, that was my
impression of the weather in the Philippines from my cubicle in Beijing. In all
honesty I actually didnǯt consider the possibility of a rainy season, but just thought it
a little strange that there was rain forecast every day. Allaying my fears of a
potentially rainy vacation, a friend told me that the typical weather was p 

 a 30%
chance of rain each day with nothing too serious coming down from the skies. Put at
ease, I shopped, for the beach, packed the giant backpack I bought from Ya Show and
made sure I wasnǯt missing any other details for the trip. At about 1 am on Tuesday
night, a group of young Beijing ex-pats, all headed to the Philippines for Chunjie,
boarded the Cebu Pacific flight bound for Manila.

Pumped for vacation, we had each gotten a few beers in the airport, and then of
course a roadie for the plane. We shouldǯve gotten more, however, because we
didnǯt anticipate the tarmac delay in Beijing. After an hour and a half of chatting with
fellow passengers and leaning leering up at the cockpit to try get some visual hint of
what was going on, we were finally notified by the pilot over the PA that Dzthe plane
has now been refueled, weǯll be off in a few minutesdz. Good call, Cebu Pacific. Totally
needed fuel.

The late takeoff would mean a late arrival in Manila, which was going to be a pain
since I needed time in the Manila airport to run the errands that would logistically
establish me as a temporary resident of the Philippines (SIM card, currency
exchange, etc.) Inconvenient, but Iǯll get it done, I thought. After getting through
customs, making a necessary ATM stop (since the island I was travelling to would
not have one), searching unsuccessfully for SIM card to put in my mobile, and then
buying breakfast in the form of a single cup of cappuccino, the mad dash to the gate
was on. I would not be doing this with the gaggle of Beijingers with whom I boarded
the first flight, but I was, luckily, not alone. Robin, a Scotsman and mutual friend who
lives in Beijing and who was also heading to Siargao, became my travel partner and
we bonded as two foreigners trying to navigate through the Philippines to its surf
capital. Running and running cappuccino in hand, we just made it and the flight to
Cebu took off precisely on time.

ë 

Since I was going to be changing airlines in Cebu on a tight time schedule, an on-
time flight was great. I always err on the side of more caution than less with regard
to flight time. Itǯs an important lesson I learned from my Mom. On the flight to Cebu I
spoke to some women in the row next to me, who were also heading to Siargao, but
were fearful that recent rains might delay or make the trip impossible. I was a little
worrid, but Robin and I decided that itǯs where we were going and we would just
keep on travelling, come hell or high water.

We arrived in Cebu and I immediately walked over to my AirPhilǯs desk to check in.
DzHi, Iǯm here to check in for the flight to Surigao, Iǯm not to late, am I?dz The young
Philppino woman with a red and turquoise accented face softened her eyes and said,
DzSorry sir, the flight to Surigao has been cancelleddz. I saw that one coming. In China,
logistics rarely work out just the way you think they will, so improvising is a daily
modus operandi. DzOkay, so whatǯs the next move?dz was my immediate thought.

I had already discussed with Robin trying to get on his 10:30 am Cebu Pacific flight,
having been worried that time was too tight to make mine or that mine would be
cancelled. At the desk they informed me that the flight was full, but that I could be a
Dzchance passengerdz if I wanted to. After finding out how much it was, and further
that they werenǯt sure it would take off considering the storms, I decided to wait and
see.

Potentially two cancelled flights to Surigao?? Maybe the weather had been more
serious than I imagined. Flights were being cancelled right and left, and a lot of
people were simply stranded at the Mactan Cebu airport. The three women I met on
the Manila-Cebu flight decided to bag Siargao all together and head the opposite
direction to Boracay.

Robin and I, resolving to be proactive about the whole thing, started exploring
options. Robin had been talking with some people on his cancelled flight, and I with
some airport workers, about what we should do. In the end, we decided to buy
tickets to Davao and team up with the other passengers to rent vans for the 8 hr bus
trip to Surigao city. The silver lining was that weǯd make the earliest ferry the next
day from Surigao to Cebu (a 5:45) and make it for a full day of surfing.

Sitting on the plane, Robin curiously asked me where Davao really was, because we
simply knew that everyone was going there and that it was 8 hrs away from Surigao.
Well neither of us knew, so we took out the sky magazine, flipped to the page with
maps and as soon as we realized where we were going, tried to keep our jaws from
hitting the floor.

Surigao is the northernmost city on the island of Mindanao, Davao the not the
southernmost, but is well inside the southern half of the island. 8 hrs? We hoped so.
It looked far.

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u





We landed in Davao, and upon collecting Robinǯs surfboard from the baggage claim
connected with our travel partners. The group that would rent two small vans
consisted of a Philippino family, two families with a Philippino mother and an
Australian father, and a Philippino couple. All incredibly nice people and the women
did a good job bartering with the Davao Transportation Authority guys outside the
terminal to get us into a few vans. Beyond being local and being very capable
travelers, the Philippinos with us were also speaking and bartering in Tagalog. I had
found so far that people in the service industry could generally speak decent
English, but aside from that most could speak just a few words and phrases here and
there. Robin and I just did what we were told, loaded peopleǯs luggage and got on
the bus.

On paper, the drive would fairly mundane: a few stops at gas stations, dinner at
Jollibee and a few bathroom breaks. Actually though, most of it was pretty scary. I
donǯt know if anyone noticed, were used to it, or just didnǯt care, but in my van (and
it seemed in the other) the guys drove as if they were in a rally and theyǯd be paid
more for how many cars/trucks they passed, how many times they passed each
other and how quickly we would arrive at Surigao. Some passengers in our van had
a bag or a surfboard to lean on, or were pinned in place by some combination
thereof. I was not so lucky.

Sitting in the front right seat in a minivan with all bench-seating, I was right next to
the sliding door, and so had that little space where the runway step is to my right.
The thing that doomed me was no armrest. Robin, the lucky man he is, was pinned
in between a surfboard and a bag, with another bag behind him as a pillow. He could
lean back and close his eyes and the drive wouldnǯt bother him that much. I,
however, came to learn just how fast they were driving and just how winding this
two lane, pot-holed highway was not by looking out the window or by seeing the
odometer, but by how strongly I was thrown right and left, beginning to resemble an
erratic metronome as they ripped me around turns and through traffic. Eventually I
got about an hour of sleep by stretching out and pinning myself in place, against the
floor, doors and seats Ȃ any surface I could use as leverage to rebel against inertiaǯs
will.

While it was still light out, it was great to stare out the window and see the
Philppino countryside zipping by, but night came quickly and with it the standard
roadtrip conversations and games. Robin and I learned a few key Tagalog phrases
from the people in our van, most of them Suriguano (a dialect). We also talked about
what life was like in China and heard about life in Davao, Surigao and the other
Philippino cities weǯd be travelling through. Most of the time, however, was spent
playing I-Spy, including a long night session. That was the hardest game of I-Spy Iǯve
every played. DzCan we see it now?dz DzYesǥ.Noǥ.Yes you just saw itǥ.dz. It was
especially hard when all we had was a letter to go on and the person who saw the
object refused to give out any hints! (Ahem, Rosa!). Led by the children in the car,
we carried on with I-Spy for about three hours of the six hour trip to Cabadbaran.

We stopped at a Jollibee in Cabadbaran to eat some dinner and use the facilities.
Since there arenǯt many roadside highway stops on the AH26 Pan Philppine
Highway, we turned through a few city streets in Cabadbaran to get there. If only for
a few minutes, we got to see the everyday streets of a small Philippino city. There
was lots of water on the street in Cabadbaran, lots of little shops and bars, almost
everything one story. The thing I noticed the most was the amount of people on the
street on Wednesday at 10:30 pm. Tons of teenagers, 20-somethings walking
around, hanging out playing cards, casing the scene. This was pretty true for most of
the towns that we passed through, but we spent more time in Cabadbaran driving to
and from the Jollibee than we had anywhere else.

After finishing a fast-food dinner of spicy chicken, rice and fries, we all hopped in the
vans and continued north towards Surigao. Again we took off on another round of I-
Spy, but this game was cut short when we came to our first traffic jam on the AH26.
Since no streetlights lit the road, all our headlights could show us was a line of
trucks, vans and cars, sitting with their lights off and stretching into the darkness.
There was a gaggle of young and old Philippino men standing around on the side of
the road talking and gesturing (what guys do when thereǯs an immovable traffic
jam). Rosa, a woman who grew up in Davao, but lives in Cebu and seems to have a
lot of experience on Mindanao, got out of the car and went to see what was the
matter. The rally-car drivers also got out to see what was going on. Though Robin
got out to take a look, and I after him, we were quickly told to get back into the car.
The road, we were told, had floodwaters above chest high that had flooded on from
a roadside river. Since that was about the level of the windshield wipers in our van,
we would not be able to continue along this road to Surigao, at least not that night.
DzBut isnǯt there another road, or another highway that goes to Surigao?dz I asked
Rosa. A small shake of the head was all I got. After Rosa explained the options to the
group, she gave everyone a few seconds to come to terms with the fact that we
would have to find a hotel, somewhere on Mindanao, to stay the night. DzOkay, where
to?dz was our attitude. Everyone in the group had had their share of inconveniences,
delays and cancellations. DzJust keep movingdz was the mantra. Since Rosa did not
know anyone in Cabadbaran, and did not feel it would be safe without a contact that
we could trust, we started the two hour drive back to Butuan, where a friend of hers
would hopefully be able to set us up with a hotel, for 14, at 1:30 a.m.

3 


Rosaǯs friend came through and we entered the flooded city of Butuan slowly,
creeping through roads with floodwaters as high as three feet. There were streets
with flooding that looked deeper than that, but I canǯt confirm that because we
simply passed by them, snapping pictures of people and dogs wading through street
lakes past midnight. The hotel had space, beds and pillows, which was quite
satisfactory for us. It even had CNN Ȃ more than I can say for my apartment in
Beijing Ȃ where I watched Rupert Murdoch unveil DzThe Dailydz and take a few
questions regarding the iPad and the future of news media.

Robin, the two Australian pateres familias, and I had a few beers as we wound down
the night. Everyone shared a story or two from their international travels, fitting
since this adventure would always be a node connecting our varied pasts and
futures. It had gotten late, around 2 am, so we headed back to our rooms and set
each alarm for 6 am to make sure we were up for the bus to Surigao.

Rosaǯs friend is a true saint and not only found the hotel, but found the coach bus for
us to take in the morning and helped us get all of our luggage onto it. We sat on the
bus for a while in the Butuan Central Bus Stationǯs lot before we started off, so Robin
and I made a run to get some Dunkinǯ Donuts for everyone from the small store they
had at the bus station. I found a bathroom house that had DzJohn Paul Live In
Concertdz, and nothing else, written in big black marker on a concrete wall. Your
guess is as good as mine. The driver started the engine, and we were ready to go,
with four hours to go before the last ferry to Siargao left port at twelve oǯclock. We
were confident we could make the ferry, and started to get excited about the beach.
After all the drive to Surigao was only supposed to be two hours? It definitely
wouldnǯt take us that long. Beach here I come, I thought.

 


After an hour of driving through the Mindanao countryside, which was much nicer
in the daylight, we got to the line up. The deflating part was that we could see how
long the line up actually was. It was long. And it bent around a corner, meaning that
we couldnǯt see to the end. Crap. Everyone got out, snapped a few pics, used the
bathroom, and stood around waiting for some sort of signal that weǯd be moving
forward. Eventually, though I didnǯt fully know why, we were told to get on the bus.
After few hundred yards we stopped again on the side of the road, and you could
feel a tired, impatient groan waft throughout the bus passengers, whether or not
you could hear it. The door at the front of the bus opened, and we were soon told
that we had a few people had to get out and help move the luggage from underneath
the bus into the passenger compartment, because the floodwaters would most
definitely be that high and the luggage compartments werenǯt watertight. Once the
aisle and everyoneǯs laps were filled with bags, we continued on towards the
flooding.

Sometimes when Iǯm in a car, for instance during a blizzard or a rainstorm, Iǯm more
concerned with seeing the road than I am able to notice the severity of the
conditions. Anyone whoǯs driven in a blizzard knows that looking up and saying
DzMan, itǯs really snowing!dz is a good way to get in an accident. Better to white
knuckle it to your destination. Iǯm sure this mightǯve been the case for the bus
driver, but not for us. We were looking down at where the road would be out of
these giant bus windows. The flooding was crazy. It was 4-5 ft., and water was
everywhere. The guardrails were the only visible structure along the road, and even
they were submerged at times. Some of the houses were high enough to be just
above the waves made by the wake of the buses and trucks crawling through the
floodwaters, and some were not. Of the not so lucky ones, there where general
stores, houses, businesses, all now involuntary hosts of the brown-green
floodwaters that stood inside their house, filling each at least a quarter high and
some even half way up the wall. People were swimming around and waving to us as
we went by. At one point we passed a house with a porch, standing high enough
above the waterline, where a big group of boys had gathered. Some of them waved,
some of them reveled in showing us that they knew what Dzgiving the fingerdz was,
and some just smiled. Amid the submerged houses and wreckage, it was nice to see
boys still being boys.

Passing through each floodwater meant coming to a higher ground where people
gathered, passing the time shooting the breeze while busses and boats passed by
through the water. Some waved, some pointed at the NBA jerseys they were
wearing, and some readied their small kayaks for travel. This canǯt have been the
first time this had happened, because people seemed pretty relaxed and casual
about the whole thing.

During the fourth ford, I saw that we had a big turn to make, nearly 75 degrees over
the course of a few hundred yards. Luckily the guardrail was visible at this point, but
judging by the path our driver took, I think the bus ahead of us gave us as much
direction with its wake as the guardrail did with its line. Slowly, but surely, our
amphibious bus made the turn and ascended onto dry land. That was it. We forded
the final flood, and were now heading on dry road towards Surigao. Hooray! What
time is it?! Itǯs 11:15. We thought that we might still have time to make it to Surigao,
but time was getting tight.

We continued along the main road towards Surigao, but were slowed down
something we did not realize when originally thought weǯd make it. Our bus turned
out to be a local, in the sense that we would be sporadically dropping people off and
picking people up along the highway. With the constant stopping, we realized that
we would most likely not make our ferry. Oh well, letǯs just keep watching the car-
wreck-that-you-canǯt-turn-away-from movies that were shown on the bus. Two
movies: Centurion, and Legion. Why, where, how, why they got these movies?
Beyond me. Obviously during the flood not many paid attention, but afterwards
most eyes were glued to Paul Bettany, as he tried to protect the bloodline against
little kid and grandma devil-zombies. Never saw the end though. Shame.

c
ë 

We reached Surigao at one 1:00 p.m, and were invited by a 20 something girl named
Eliza to hang out with her family in Surigao for the night. I still feel incredibly lucky
for having such welcoming people as Rosa and Eliza on the trip with us. After some
quick Mang Inasal chicken and rice, we headed over to Elizaǯs brother Peterǯs house.

Peter is a smiley thirty years old with a thick dark tan, fitting for an experienced
boat captain. He and his partner drive a boat between Surigao and Alber every day.
Peterǯs wife is an incredibly kind woman, who was seven months pregnant with
their second child when we met her. Polpol is their first-born, an energetic tot who
was usually the center of attention in their modest two story row-house along a
busy street in Surigao city.

Upon dropping our stuff we headed out to look at Peterǯs boat, which was docked
and had not been in use the past few days due to the typhoons. Standing out on the
boat was my first taste of the ocean in the Philippines, and it hit me hard. The fluid,
undulating waves, whose gentle massage of the air I could feel on my skin, were a
beautifully clean deep blue. It was as calm and as peaceful as Iǯd hoped, but more
calm and peaceful than I couldǯve ever dreamed. This was why I had been travelling
for so long.

After the cultural exchange of Peter teaching us how to navigate the Surigao City fish
market, and us teaching Peter and his fellow deckhand the meaning of Dzbeer rundz,
we were ready to eat. Peterǯs cousin Bibo, a skinny strong taller guy sporting a hoop
earring and a baseball cap, grilled us up some delicious fish. The crispy skin of the
grilled fish peeled off to reveal fresh, succulent meat that we slid off each rib and
dipped in a vinegar and garlic sauce. Delicious. Peterǯs wife made Kinilaw Ȃ bits of
seafood soaked in vinegar with some herbs and sautéed vegetables, which
essentially Ǯcooks themǯ - Dzkinilawdz actually means Dzcooked in vinegardz. She also
made a few bowls of rice for mixing with all the meat. Considering how much we
had been running around the past few days, it was a real blessing to have such a
welcoming family take care of us. I could never say enough, so Iǯll just say Iǯm very
greatful to have met Eliza, Peter and the Noharas. They are great people.

Throughout dinner we had been hearing about how good a singer Peter was, so
when we were all finished, Robin and I suggested that we go sing a bit. The karaoke
bar, conveniently located across the street, was a long, whitewash-walled room with
tables, chairs, a fridge for beer and a karaoke machine in the back that resembled an
arcade game. Continuing with a few large bottles of San Miguel, we (and I mean
everyone) belted out the hits. Wonderwall, Donǯt Stop Believinǯ, Radio Gaga, Get
Back, Bed of Roses (A Bon Jovi song that everyone I met in Surigao knew thoroughly
from the upper left), and some power ballads in Tagalog were on the set-list. The
owner sang, we sang, people shared the mic mid song; it was a blast. Finally, at 9
p.m., after a few DzNo no, ÷
 is the last onedz songs, we packed up and headed over to
the disco. There would be a band starting at 10, and itǯs always good to make sure
you have seating. The seven of us, fitting on one tricycle Ȃ a motorcycle with a cart
like chassis built onto it - rolled through the main drag of Surigao City. Among other
local landmarks, we passed the port where weǯd be setting off the next morning at
5:45 a.m. to Siargao.

When we arrived at the disco it was apparent that we were a little early. The only
people there were a group sitting on a couch near the door watching what I can only
describe as an underwater merman brawl. For reasons unknown, at this point in
whatever program they were watching, multiple mermen (thatǯs men with tails
instead of legs), were swimming at each other throwing haymakers under the sea. I
have no idea what that was about and unfortunately was too shocked to snap a
picture before the scene changed. Along with David Tyreeǯs superbowl catch and
Obamaǯs inauguration, it is one of the most memorable TV moments in my mind. We
went and sat at our table, having some beers and doing a little dancing as we waited
for people to come. Thankfully there was a fan on one side of the stage, because it
got real hot real fast out there even as it was just our small group. A big reason
couldǯve been the Saturday Night Feveresque lit floor they had going on and the
various lasers and lights they had pointed at the dance floor. It was a real dance
floor, that's for sure.

At about 10:15, the band started playing some Tagalog and English power ballads
(yes, almost every song we heard until that point was a power ballad), but then
changed it up and started playing some danceable songs. Before we knew it, the
crowd had gone from 20 when they started, to well over a hundred as the place was
packed elbow to elbow and the dance floor was spilling over with people blowing off
steam on a Thursday night. Our group kept it up and danced up and down the floor,
taking fan breaks as needed. Robin and I lasted as long as we could, but we were
tired, and finally had to leave the club before everyone else, at around 1:30. We had
to get up at 5:15 after all! In bed, lights out, and day two had ended. What a great
day it was.
Eliza came to get us at 5:30, and with her friends GG and Laurena made it to the 5:45
ferry. We found places inside the boat to sit and all put our heads down in whatever
way each of us felt like weǯd fall asleep. I moved to a tiny section of a couch and
passed out almost immediately. Though my original itinerary had me on
Wednesdayǯs 12 noon ferry, Fridayǯs 5:45 am was just fine. Next Stop, Siargao.

--

U 

These two days were nuts. At the same time that it was a great delay, it was a great
adventure. At the same time that I was thinking about losing my vacation, I thought
about how lucky I was to be taken care of by such nice, generous people. My
alternatives wouldǯve been a few days in Cebu or completely bagging the eastern
island trip and heading somewhere else. Would I trade the adventure? My tour of
Mindanao? No way. Did I realize that Mindanao is one of the more dangerous places
in the Philippines? Well I had an idea, but didnǯt think Iǯd be there for that long.
Thankfully we had people watching over us. Overall it was an incredible experience,
and incredible adventure, and all worth it as I finally did get to enjoy the beautiful
water and waves on Siargao Island.

 
  
:
î
 
  
:
Flight - Beijing-Manila, 1:00am-5:30am;
Flight - Manila-Cebu, 8:00am-9:15am;
Flight - Cebu-Davao, 1:30pm-2:30pm
Drive - Davao-Butuan 3:00pm-1:30am
 p
  p
:
Bus - Butuan-Surigao 8:00am-1:00pm
p

 ÷ :
Ferry Ȃ Surigao City-Dapa Pier, Siargao 5:45-9:00am
Bike Ȃ Dapa Pier-Siargao Inn, General Luna 9:15-10:00am



  : 2 days, 9 hours.