This is Bool, Culaba, my mom’s hometown, and it is my first time to visit the place.
There were no welcome banners when we arrived because nobody was expecting us.
We arrived at an hour when most people would be taking their afternoon naps. All is quiet on the home front.
An abandoned drawing on the ground where girls play “sagodsod”. We don’t see much of these drawings in the city anymore where most kids prefer to stay glued to their phones and tablets.
Wood rot on the church wall. I can already hear the call for donation.
This is probably one of the few fishing villages without a fish market.
Leftover fish being dried by the road side. With the right amount of salt and fried until crispy, this goes perfectly well with rice for breakfast, lunch, or dinner.
What’s the use of drying the nets when it will be thrown back to sea again tomorrow?
The bottom might be rocky but the water is crystal clear.
And the water’s edge is just a few steps outside the ancestral home.
The local convenience store where transactions are done via voice command. No need for a shopping cart nor waste time hunting for the things you need.
The best halo-halo in the whole village, according to the lady who makes them. I bet she subscribes to Mary Poppin’s spoonful of sugar theory and adds her own version in the tune of “a heaping spoonful of brown sugar”.
This trip is nowhere close to “spending a great time at the beach” sort of thing. It isn’t the kind where you take as many selfies as you can to show off to friends and people whom you barely know on social media. This is a totally different experience altogether. It is the kind that says “welcome home”.
I have been expecting warm sunny days and been looking forward to taking the motorcycle out for a lot of long joy rides weeks ago. It is now April and here I am looking up to the sky every few minutes, waiting for it to clear up, but end up woefully shaking my head and thinking to myself – there goes another weekend. The weather has gone bonkers.
I like rain to cool things down on a hot summer day, but not rain that seeps into every bone in your body. I like rain when it brings people out to enjoy the shower; not when it drives people to stay warm and dry indoors. Photography is in a way like fishing, there’s very little catch when it rains too much.
If I had a tree at home, I’d probably hang my camera and wait for summer to arrive.
Until then, there’s not much to do but wait for sunshine to show up on the horizon.
Ever wondered what it is like to live in the countryside?
There is little to no digital distraction.
There’s no rush.
Nothing to do but go fishing on a Sunday afternoon.
Of course there’s harvest day. It can be on a Sunday, or any day, but the day of the week doesn’t matter any.
Except when it is a rainy day.
Surely there’s enough time to ponder about life’s mysteries when you’re living in the countryside.
165 kilometers from Tacloban is the municipality of Guiuan, Eastern Samar. Another 24 kilometers from there, the pilgrimage site that is Sulangan.
While everybody else was at the church, I just couldn’t let the opportunity pass without taking a tour around the place by myself.
As with most coastal villages, the main source of livelihood for the people of Sulangan is fishing.
The fishing activity here doesn’t start early. It is past 6am and the boats are still parked on their stilts.
And off they go at 7.
And that is all the time I had. I’ll have to come back on my own next time.
This is the first long club ride of the year, and here I am at the halfway point – roughly 85 kilometers from where we started. This is where I had to wait for the truck to come pick me up; suffering from cramps on both legs is not the way I wanted to finish.
I was back on the bike on the last 32 kilometers of the trip after a much needed rest. The whole trip took about 11 hours, stops included. The route is very scenic with enough climbs to make it interesting. We’ll organize a bike tour someday, hopefully soon.
All photos were taken with my iPhone 5. I’d take a camera over any phone camera any day, but there’s no better camera than the one at hand. I miss my Lumix LX5.
Today I went fishing….
..not fish for the dining table, like what these boys have fished from the nearby rice fields..
..but this kind of fish.
They also go into a bowl.
if they’re lucky enough to find a new home.
For now, this is life in a tiny bubble.
Can you imagine what it is like to live in a plastic bag, pondering whether it is half full or half empty?
Today I found myself on a short road trip to the nearby town of Dulag, Leyte.
The coastal winding road leading to it offers a lovely view of the ocean that never fails to make me stop and enjoy the view.
Even a fish vendor takes time out to listen to the waves crashing on the rocks.
And this is something I haven’t done for a long time – charging into an incoming wave. I should do this again soon.
As 2016 comes to a close, this will probably be the last post for the year. 2016 has been a very slow year of blogging, mainly because I failed to begin the year with a goal as I did in the past. So, come 2017, it will be at least one blog entry every fortnight. Here’s hoping for longer weekends in the year to come!
On a side note, some of you might have read or heard about what is happening in the Philippines’ war on drugs. What both the local and international media has failed to emphasize is how bad the illegal drug situation has gone out of hand over the past years because the previous administrations have turned a blind eye on the issue. Even I was surprised at how extensive this drug problem is, but the good news is that we now we have a duly elected president who is actually doing something about it. While there are questionable methods being employed by government enforcers, there is also an equal or greater possibility of drug syndicates killing off anyone who can be linked to them. Worse still, there are plans to destabilize the Philippine government by people who have been so used to wag the dog but dare not try it with our current president.
I want this drug problem eradicated and I want to make it clear that we will never have another president who has the balls to address this issue head on. What I wish at this time is for the international community to lend support to our fight against illegal drugs. Our country needs support, not condemnation nor interference.
That aside, it is still peaceful here, and we go on with our daily lives.
And here I end my blog for this year with photos from one of my favorite spots.
Merry Christmas to you all and a Wonderful New Year. Thank you for dropping by.
I have been pursuing too many distractions lately (yes, life is too short to get stuck in just one) but have found something that just goes along well with updating this blog.
This is Samar, the island just across the bridge.
and that is the open road.
Today is a lucky day. I chanced upon Gil Raagas, a 78 year old cyclist. Cyclist, not the racing type, but one who has kept his bicycle in good running condition and is still using it since his father gifted it to him on his graduation day in 1952.
He has a small workshop in his house where he creates modifications to his bike from junk.
He is a retired motorcycle mechanic and a telecommunications engineer before that, when the telegram was king.
That is no fancy toolbox nor are those fancy bike tools, but they serve the same purpose. It sits above the bottom bracket, and it’s his design. How cool is that?
Another remnant of a bygone era – the Sarao custom built jeepneys. This emblem will be welded onto the handlebar.
At 78, he still bikes a lot and even climb hills on it. I’m adding that as one of my goals.
The mirror is from his vintage 350cc motorcycle. “Live to ride, ride to live.” May the 1952 Challenger take you where you want to go, and may the wind be always at your back.
I grew up around people who fix broken things – cobblers and watch repairmen. Most of them are still around, plying their trade. It is very likely that they’ll be continuing their craft for a long time still.
This is something you see on many sidewalks. They are still thriving in this age of digital watches.
Most, if not all, buy and sell jewelry as well. What’s a decent watch without some nice jewelry to go with it?
I have always fancied myself learning the trade given my knack for taking things apart, if only I had the time and the patience for such delicate work.
Old and new mechanical watches share a lot of parts in common, quite unlike computers and mobile phones where anything older than 5 years is best dumped in the recycle bin.
Fuji lighter fluid, still in the same red plastic bottle from a lifetime ago. We’ve sold cases of this in my father’s store.
This was all the time I had for today.