Arriving at the Cebu airport after a short flight, we approach a couple of other travelers to see if they would like to share a taxi ride to the city center. Not having a place to stay ourselves, we tag along with our new friends Megan and Lorna to their hostel. These two are originally from Georgia and Scotland respectively, but now live in Guangzhou, China. Megan has been teaching in China for the past three years while Lorna is studying Chinese and business at university. They have a fluid travel dynamic, and Nicole and I spend the evening stomping around Cebu with them. They only have one night here, so they want to optimize that time and get down to it!
First order of business, as decreed by Lorna Gayle Doctor, is to acquire copious amounts of beer. We eat a quick meal and find cheap, enormous bottles of San Miguel at a 7-11 across the street. This convenience store also serves as a popular hangout point for the locals. One moment we're surrounded by your average hipsters, fitted out with fixed gear bicycles, to later be in the midst of a gang of motorcycle enthusiasts. People are nuts about their bikes here in the 'Pines. Our two new friends are great conversationalists. Megan is exuberant and animated as she shares her experiences from China, and Lorna lets her Chinese language skills fly as the beer starts to loosen her up. At some point they both break into song, delivering an impressive Chinese rendition of the Backstreet Boys hit Everybody. Seeing them be silly together makes me really happy to be travelling with a good friend, too. We latch onto each other's goofy vibes and flex our collective acerbic wit. Not that the alcohol makes everybody funny, or anything like that.
The alcohol continues to flow for hours and we make friends with a few of the locals (from the motorcycle "gang"), some of which take us to a nightclub for a long evening of dancing. The crowd atmosphere inside the club is pretty friendly, and I have a great time dancing with Megan, Lorna, and whoever dares approach my gyrating hips. I burn out after an hour of dancing and decide to walk back alone, mostly to metabolize some of the alcohol but also to dry to inordinate amount of sweat I accumulated in the humid club.
Having such a blast together, I ask if we can tag along to their next destination, where ever that might be. They agree to let us follow for a bit, and as we only have three days left in the Philippines I'm more than happy to be on the move without having to actually plan anything. It's a treat to coast in other people's wake and let them call the shots, especially when the people are well-travelled and know how to have fun.
Speaking of fun, we arrive to the bus station and cram about 18 people into a ten person minivan heading to the northern tip of Cebu to catch a boat to Malapascua. It's a tough ride even though it's only four hours, but we all handle it without griping too much. Megan keeps spirits high by asking questions and keeping the conversation flowing. She's remarkably personable, and I admire her people skills. I guess that comes with being a teacher. From here we hop onto a boat and by nightfall we're coming up to the Malapascua shore. It doesn't take long before we find our way to a high-class dive resort and book our dives for the next day. Want to see thresher sharks tomorrow? Cool, wake up at four am and we'll sort out your gear then.
Thus begins a fun day of diving and paradisical island living. I rise and I shine, casting a luminous glow across the 4am horizon. Or maybe I just slump out of bed, regretting everything ever.
It's not actually that bad, but I've gotta have something to complain about!
It doesn't take long for us to get going. We cruise out into open water and enjoy some nice predawn luminescence. I still haven't seen Malapascua in the daylight, and I feel like I have to rub my eyes emphatically to make sure I'm seeing things correctly. Wow.
Lorna joins me for the first two dives, and we make some new friends on the boat. Most people haven't had a proper breakfast, but I come prepared with copious peanuts. One gentleman points out how American I am with my nuts, but proceeds to help himself to my bounty. Yeah, how American of me to bring along such a nutritional and convenient snack. I don't mind, but it is amusing to note how easy it is for people to slag America. Yeah, it's got its share of problems, but the perspectives tend to be skewed to the negative side when it comes to external perspectives. Well, and internal, too. I guess it might be in our nature to comment on the flaws, but anything that goes well isn't really worth mentioning. I have my cynical moments, but America is pretty gosh darned neat-o for many reasons, too.
Anyway, diving. The objective of such an early dive was to see the thresher sharks during their typical mealtime, which is around first light. Their feeding grounds are about 30 meters deep, so ideally we descend to about 20 meters to conserve our air, only then moving down after a confirmed sighting. We show up just in time to see a couple of threshers in the deep blue. The encounter is fleeting, and not nearly as up close as you'd like in order to get that holy moment, but it's still pretty remarkable to see such beautiful sharks. And that's the nature of scuba. On one hand, it preserves the peace by minimizing disruption of wild animals' behavior, but this means that sightings are never guaranteed. It's tempting when you hear about opportunities to dive with whale sharks, (or see tigers for that matter *ahem* Tiger Kingdom...), but when you hear about the high volume of tourists and scheduled feedings it somehow loses its appeal. It becomes a zoo attraction, which isn't inherently bad. It's just sad to me. I always feel that little tug of dissonance, and with diving I think it's best to minimize our flipper-print as much as possible if only for the reason that it retains that feeling of a chance encounter. Another compelling reason would be to keep the ecosystems in balance, but regardless of human intervention these things will fluctuate enormously over time.
We spend as long as we can on the bottom waiting for the threshers to reemerge from the blue, but I can't make anything out. I have some fun fiddling with my GoPro but otherwise we start our ascent when I signal that I'm low on air. Our divemaster extends our bottom time a few more minutes by letting me share his air supply, and then we're already back on the buoy line for the 3 minute safety stop. That's that. We come back to the surface and I'm treated to a nice view of Malapascua in full daylight for the first time. Not too shabby.
Here's a little clip of a flatworm that our DM spotted while waiting for the threshers. Nicole spotted one of these while diving back in Thailand, and I'd say it's one of my favorites.
Our second dive site is located at a known manta ray feeding ground. We suit up all over again, drop down to the bottom, but find nothing much of interest. No mantas today, it seems. The dive is uneventful in that sense, but I enjoy it nonetheless. It seems like every dive I do just increases my comfort, relaxing my breathing. I guess it would be much nicer to focus on something you can't see anywhere else; after all I could just go diving in a pool to achieve the same effect. But there's something strangely social about going into the ocean with a bunch of people you barely know. I enjoy looking around and watching the divers do their thing: some kick a little too frantically, reminding me to slow down my movements; some alternate kicking styles, dolphinkick, frogkick, etc; many float through the ocean with their hands clasped together, modeling the ideal relaxed posture, as if making every breath count, every calorie. A nice dive, but I'm ready for a proper breakfast.
Back on shore, I cross paths with Nicole as she heads out for the 10am dive. I'm content on taking a break from the choppy water for a while, so I opt to hang about and scope out our new digs. The dive resort, Thresher Cove, is easily one of the most versatile hotels I've been to. They accommodate to backpackers on a budget with a simple dormitory while still offering cushy villas to people on proper vacation. Aside from slightly pricy food options, this place is golden. They provide us with free snorkel gear and I take the afternoon to explore the cove with Lorna and Megan.
A short clip of the baby puffers. They're so dopey! Who would've thought the lack of any instinctual self-preservation could be so darned adorable.
Snorkeling around with my GoPro. My back got a little sunburned after hours of wandering.
Braaaaiiins...
Keepin' it classy. Lorna, Megan, and some unknown hairy dude.
I "caught" a jellyfish. The sting didn't hurt on contact, but I felt a nice warm tingling radiate through my arms and chest
Norm the jellyfish didn't appreciate my rude hands on approach, but I got the message. See ya later, little guy!
Megan enjoys the spa.
Derpin'
A banded sea snake caught in a fishing net. Judging from the tangles I'd say it struggled before suffocating to death.
Didn't test out the stinging capabilities of these guys, fortunately.
Crammed into the back seat of the bus.
I wouldn't mind staying a while.
The 100 peso accommodation. That's about two dollars. Worth every penny?
After a relaxing afternoon of exploring the shallow water I turn in for a quick nap before the night dive. The dive site for the evening happens to be on a much denser coral bed, making for some nice sighting of even more exotic looking flatworms, octopus, mandarin fish mating, and so on. We have a small group for this dive, only five people, which means it's a bit easier to move around and explore the reef. Diving at night is still a trip; it seems so tough to keep track of your divemaster but somehow everybody manages to stay together. The depth is no more than 10 meters at most points, so we get quite a long dive in. We surface with very contented looks on our faces, two of the girls now having earned their advanced certification. Getting scuba certified was a good move, and it's cool to know that there's room to progress into more technical aspects of diving if I ever feel like it.
After a satisfying day of diving, especially with an early morning and a bit too much afternoon sun, I'm ready to turn in for the night.
But that isn't in the cards. What is in the cards, you ask? The disco, of course!
Every weekend the local villagers get together at the primary school and throw a big party. Lorna, Megan, our new friend Jenny, and myself all hop on moto-taxis and head to the village center to check out the hype. The music is already pretty loud before I'm even within sight of the school. The corridors are packed with people of all ages, and upon entering the quadrangle I am greeted by a massive congregation of locals and foreigners alike, all dancing and sweating together to loud electronic music. Initially I can't find Lorna or Megan, but I feel the need to dance so I just excuse myself from Jenny's company (recovering from a bruised tailbone) and get my groove on. Just as the club in Cebu was very friendly, the villagers here seem pretty happy to get down with the foreigners. I dance around like the fool that I am, eventually coming upon a group of three little toddlers who are just wicked adorable. They beam up at me and I smile in kind back at them. Maybe we look equally absurd to each other, and that's half the fun. Lorna and Megan eventually show up and acquire some large bottles of beer without much effort. For some reason at this point, I don't feel the desire to get drunk even to loosen up. The vibe is just so friendly that I don't need any social lubricant, and it feels nice to let go of inhibitions with a natural high every once in a while. At some point the music shifts dramatically to something salsa-like, and suddenly the dancers become possessed by some new-found adeptness. One of the matriarchs of our "corner" of the quad takes a fondness to Megan and Lorna and shows them some proper dance moves. Before long they are all moving in step, but I just can't manage to figure it out the moves. For some reason I just can't mimic movement so well. Maybe my sense of copycatting is stronger for things like climbing, but even then I'm probably making up my own dance on the wall. I'm content to watch other people have a good time for a while, so I take a short break.
Alas, having been up since four in the morning, my body can't take any more. After a couple of hours of alternating shuffling my bum to parking it on the concrete and watching other people *actually* dance, I find a ride back to my sweet, tiny Filipino bed (seriously fit for a child). I got so dehydrated that I might as well have been drinking alcohol all night. But I'm glad I really packed in all of the activities into one day. It didn't occur to me then, but we'd be leaving so soon that it really made sense to sacrifice some sleep in order to spend more time diving, more time with new friends, more time dancing like a buffoon. Sleep can happen later, and I somehow managed to stay pretty cognizant throughout the day (although admittedly the tail end of the disco was inducing some delirium).
The following day I go out for another round of snorkeling, but that about does it for Malapascua. Now Nicole and I have to head back to Cebu city to catch our flight to Jakarta, Indonesia. We make our goodbyes to our excellent single-serving friends, Lorna and Megan. They were truly some excellent companions, and if we had more time I am certain we would've aligned our trajectories for a while longer.
Coming soon on Things, Stuff, and Junk: Nicole and I have about a week to get from Jakarta to Bali for our flight to New Zealand.
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