Diving in Bohol and Other Underwater Adventures

It’s not all work for Wallace and I as we recently took a week’s holiday in Bohol, a smaller island in the south of the Philippines.

Bohol is well known for its chocolate hills, named due to their brown colouring which occurs at only one time during the year. We arrived during the wrong season, so just lots of green hills (and a typhoon somewhere nearby which brought wind and rain to make the motorcycle ride an adventure) but I guess ‘hump shaped green hills’ isn’t such a tourist grabbing name.  

It’s also equally famous for the native tarsiers, which according to one postcard are “the smallest monkeys in the world”. Sadly neither these points are true, being that tarsiers are primates not monkeys (all monkeys are primates but not vice versa, a sticking point for any biological anthropologist so please excuse the lecture!). Also I am sure the pygmies marmoset is smaller (please google image as super cute). However tarsiers are very rare and very cool to see in nature.  Unfortunately due to an accidental 7 hour motorcycle ride, with multiple wrong turns and Wallace wanting to take the ‘new and unexplored route’ to the tarsiers, we didn’t get to see any.  So with extremely sore bums we had only the postcards to see what real life tarsiers looks like. But, our sadness was not too great as the main reason we came to Bohol was due to first class dive sites. A perfect setting for our first oceanic diving experience.

In very south of the island of Bohol, connected by two bridges, is the tiny Panglao Island. This was our base for 9 days, as it had both a home reef you could freely snorkel on and lots of dive boats you can travel to Balicasag Island on. This is a marine reserve, its highlights being loads and loads of fish, eels, turtles and beautiful undamaged reefs (see pictures!).

We did 5 dives at Balicasag, going to 21 metres down the sea wall (accidentally of course as our PADI open water qualification only allows us to go to 18 metres, oh no!).  We were a bit nervous at first, being that we hadn’t dived since October, which was in a murky 8 metre lake near London. The idea of suddenly diving off the sea wall, with 35 metres between you and the sea floor is, concerning.

 However, the beauty of the drop is astounding, you dive in the clearest of waters so you can always see the surface sun and the sealife soon takes all your concerns away.

For our final dive, we had overcome our fears and did a night dive. It really was like exploring a whole new sea, all the species change and you really can’t see beyond your flashlight beam (hence no pictures, sorry). You definitely don’t want to fall too far beyond your local guide then, just one massive black expanse of nothing!  Yet the bioluminescence which occurs at night-time is wonderful; you just move your hand through the water, with the flashlights off, and the water is suddenly full of lights, like underwater fireflies. 

Overall we saw loads of crazy animals, like the frog fish (again please google image), moray eels (see below), fat lipped fish, cornet fish, scorpion fish (no touching as seriously poisonous and painful) and lots of different (and kind of minging) types of sea worms! 

The only thing missing were sharks, those who know me know my love (obsession…) with sharks so I was sad when none appeared during our dives.

However, I wasn’t too sad as we had previously, back in our April tour of the Philippines, snorkelled with a whale shark in Donsol (the very southern tip of Luzon).   This was slightly more crazy, and less relaxed than hanging with turtles in Bohol. Firstly, there are like 100 other tourists diving into the water at the same time. The water is pretty murky (which is actually the massive amount of plankton which attracts the whale sharks to Donsol, whale sharks being of course mainly non-meat eating and behaving more like, you got it, whales!), and as you put your head into the water very little is visible but your guide is dragging you along knowing something you don’t. At this point you are kinda stressed as even if whale sharks won’t eat you they are massive, some as big as 18 metres and are officially the largest fish in the sea. And this is a massive thing you can’t see. Until suddenly you put your head under the water and you do see it, like RIGHT IN FRONT OF YOU.

 This was definitely a swearing occasion for me as its massive mouth, scooping up millions of plankton, was open around 3 metres in front of me.    But after this mild first panic, suddenly all my love of sharks came back to me and I got to swim along with it for a good few minutes. It was bliss and wonderful to be alongside such a beauty of a fish.

 This was only ruined when all the other tourists caught up with us and pushed and kicked to get a closer view.  It’s sad really that’s this is how we have to witness such a creature, and this is how some people are.  But it’s still worth it when you have those few minutes along with the ‘gentle giant’, as its referred to in Donsol.

Finally, in the theme of sealife, we have just returned from a couple of weeks at a coastal camp in Palanan. This place is an extremely stereotypical tropical beach. This got green forests and palm trees, white beach situated on a big lagoon which acts as a sheltered breeding ground for many baby fish (many, many tiny nemos, otherwise of course known as clown fish). It is has a large underwater cliffs, the path the boats follow to come in the bay. Like the Grand Canyon underwater, it forms a big contrast of shallow and deep water, and is home to some big fish, including massive moray eels (lucky only witness once already caught as apparently they have an extremely bad bite).

 So while we were not watching children, taking measurements or asking questions, we had our snorkel gear on and explored the reef. This place would make a beautiful diving spot, but I hope it isn’t sold out to tourism because then the Agta would be forced off their beach homes to be replaced by beach side villas. This is a very real threat as the politicians here are trying to buy up the beaches, to be ready for development as soon as the roads are built.  For me, I hope it stays just the way it is.

Love to all,

Wasabi.

Hunting: tools, techniques and practice

Hi all, the bluetooth keyboard works great and my motivation is at best since France won the first match. Just kidding the actual reason being for once we have 3 relaxing days after about a month of non-stop work, so it feels great to write a bit here. Today let's speak about Hunting.

This activity is equally practice in the coastal and inland environment and people usually specialize in one type of it. The tools used here are firstly the traditional wooden Busog, bow, in conjonction with the panas,arrows. 

In fact, the latter have a special trait: the arrows head is not fixed to the body but instead clipeed on it and a rope of a few meters linked both parts. It help understand this by saying that the bow is used for hunting wild pigs which lives in a dense jungle environment. The idea is that the head of the arrows stick to the animal and the shaft gets stuck when the pig attempts escape through the vegetation. Then, the hunter would run and finish the job with it's Atak, knife. I say knife as the tool is also used to cut food and repair things but we are here speaking more of the dagger type with it's blade spanning a good 40cms.

After the traditional hunting, which we witnessed many attempts which produce no yield, comes guns. There are actually three disctinct types.

From the top of the image, the first one called bomba is actually the least powerful. Being an airgun, it shoots small metal pellet, the same you would in a funfaire. The main difference being that it is much more powerful. The mechanism allows to load  enough air for five shots before reloading making it a very efficient tool. It is used to hunt Ibungs, birds.

The second gun is soberly called 22 because of its caliber and the same sort of gun you would expect a farmer to own in england. Each cartrige costs the equivalent of a pound or about ten times more than for the bomba. The use of it is unclear as it did not seems to be selected during the differnet trips I witnessed.

The last type of guns are called Posphoro and actually modified shotguns. The cartridges are not available in the region so the people change the mecanism to add a side trigger. The gun is filled with three matchboxes worth of phosphorous matches heads, hence its name. Then 3 small rocks are added and the whole load is squeezed as far as possible into the cannon. The trigger is then a bent nail that, with the force of a taunt spring, which has such intensity as to make the phosphorous explode projecting the rock and matches at a great velocity. As curious as it seems it is the tool of choice for pig hunting. We witnessed many agtas walking in the forest with their guns but havent seen the formers in use.

In another category Agtas are the only people allowed to use traps it the national park; 30 maximum at one time per person. They are  clever bits of engineering where a bent wooden stick is released and tightly encompasses the animals leg to prevent it from escaping. Sadly I only got them explained to me but not seen or photographed. I have however an image of a funny little tool.

Being similarily made with a wood stick   and   a rubber band, it is   similar to a slingshot expect there is no Y-shape and the projectile clips on the rubber itself. The latter is made of a nail, sharpened at one end and fitted with lots of plastic bag pieces at the other. The former permits to pierce the occasional bird where the latter is for finding the projectile amonst the trees. It is ironically called an icepick, the shape suits the name but, but strange as the Agta don't know what ice or snow look like.

So what about the practice? We have been invited a few to partake a hunting trip and I have been to one with Nonoy, a cool guy from Cemento.

We headed early in the morning to the close-by jungle and followed some sort of trail, otherwise called a muddy torrent. After an hour of hard climb Nonoy started making noises, bird noises. He explained that the way was to speak and convince the birds to come and meet their end. With his voice and a bamboo tool he was indeed able to answer calls and soon enough we were crouching on the ground as a inquisite flyer was in the area. I am saying in the area because at this point it was impossible for me to spot any moving animal. Only the usual jungles noises and cracks. Nonoy aims, shoot, the bird fell like a stone.

He is not dead but still he goes directly into the bag, to stay fresh I presume. And the day goes on. Hours of hard walking through the jungle and a few birds later I start to be more aware of the surroundings and see the birds despite their grey and green camouflage. In fact, the shooting seemed to be the easiest part with target being between 7 to 10 meters away. In fact, the birds were so unaware that even after Nonoy shot a bird on a branch it's two companions didn't budge and met the same fate a minute later. One shot, one bird is Nonoy's mantra and that day he did not fail.

We came back late afternoon, and boy I was tired. Nonoy may not be fast in the action, but his stamina seems to be without limits. This was a great day out.

We will head to another camp with bird hunters in a couple of days and I am bringing cartridges this time with the hope to have a go at shooting. I tried in the camp and manage to hit the target OK. Maybe I can get a bird too.

With love,

Wasabi.

Change

Palanan Isabela, Philippines, 22 of June 2014.

Today, I am 27 and I have just, or will soon, reach a mileage of one billion heartbeats. This number makes my head spins and awakens in me the urge to share some reflections with you.

Before the 17^th of last September I was following the path. No, not the spiritual one, simply that which spans from the exit door of my engineering school to a nice comfortable life. A person in a bubble among bubbles, not too happy nor too sad. Not to scared, nor too confident; just in the middle. But then, as the yes man I sometimes am, I had to quit my job for that new project.

Following my love all the way to the Philippines for 9 months of anthropological fieldwork, I have ended up sharing this segment of my life with a population of Hunter-gatherers. And today, we are half way. Four shorts months since the departure from London and who am I? I am not quite sure of the answer, all I of know is that I have changed. This is simple to know because when one changes, he does not remember who he was before. I have souvenirs of course. The first day at work, and the last (where all the secrets are shared at the pub). But yet, this is not the me of today. I have seen more, experienced more, and had a good glimpse into some other bubbles. This changed my perspective on life.

I remember reading with interest about this blogger who decided to live with only 100 types of objects and made a book out of it. People here can do so with 30, 20, 10 distinct objects and live a good life. I remember I was feeling quite good about doing half an hour of exercise per day and being outside for 10 minutes after my lunch. Here inside does not exist as the Agta house consists of a banana leaf roof and a bamboo floor one metre from the ground. Even the richer farmer’s houses do not have windows and often large opening on their sides. As for exercise, this is not a thing here as everyone is active most of a day and often very strong indeed. Lastly, I was quite proud, upon arriving in a new place to always make the time to invite my neighbours to a welcoming drink or two. Here the Agta are the closest, tightly knit group of people I ever encountered. You want some novelty? Why not pack your stuff, walk 5 hours and spend a week in another camp. No reasons are needed: you walk, you arrive there, you live there. As simple as it gets.

This radical experience made me reconsider the way I lead my life. What is work and how much of it is needed? Why should I sit eight or more hour a day on the same chair over again? Communities or Societies? All of these subjects will be discussed in the next post: Reflexions.

One more thing: my hair. For roughly a year I let it be free and grow as organic and unconstraint as possible, waiting for an event to give it a good shape. That’s it; today I put words on my state of mind. And to be honest I am glad it happens, as I was slowly getting blinded by this volume on my head.

Love to all,

Wasabi.

By the way

Palanan Isabela, Philippines, 19 of August 2014.

We are now into our last leg of our fieldwork (argh where has time gone!) and our time in Palanan. We have been busy written articles for the blog, however we haven’t quite managed to get them posted as the web has been just beyond our reach. 
The good news is that we have now caught up with the internet (thanks again Flow!), and will publish all the articles we have created in the last months, over the forthcoming weeks.

Oh and here is a random snapshot to keep your eyes amused. Yea that's right, there is such a thing as an Agta doll.  

Love to all,

Wasabi.

Anthropology Corner: Agta fashion

Norma sporting subang, long maniqec and pinanas

When anyone starts talking about foraging peoples an image of isolated, untouched tribes comes to mind. People who are at one with nature, high from various jungle plants and creepy crawlies, and adorned with face paints, multiple bamboo piercings topped off with large head dresses only matched by accompanying tiny grass skirts or loincloths.  Yet, this is just a stereotype, one which foraging populations from the South America conform a lot better to. For the Agta, it may be better to say they dominate nature (but more on this later), they don’t lick any frogs (that I have noticed…) and are more often seen in baggy basketball shorts then loincloths.  I am not the type of anthropologist that studies material culture (i.e. the visual representation of a culture demonstrated in clothes, jewellery, art and so forth), yet with some beautiful photography from Wallace I think it important to demonstrate how the modern day Agta looks like, and how they actually beautify themselves.

Close up of pinanas

The most common piece of jewellery of any Agta, be it man, woman or child is an maniqec. Maniqec  are necklaces made of plastic nylon which various brightly clothed beads are threaded on to. Most often the maniqec is made very long and coiled around a women’s neck. For men, it is normally only one layer of beads, so not to interfere with fishing or hunting activities.  Most often, the Agta tell you the maniqec is simply for beauty. But there are many different explanations. Some will tell you it is for curing sickness, as an unseen spirit is best treated with a very beautiful and colourful maniqec.  Single girls are also meant to wear brighter beads, but really this seems to be a personal choice.  Like most aspects of Agta life they may all think differently but always correctly; you have the freedom to think of any explanation.

Little Erik with biscal

Similarly the importance of the thickness of pinanas, or bracelets made from twisted thread, varies.These small pinanas are impressively made by simply twisting and twisting the string until it makes a loop which is then stretched over the hand to fit tightly with 50 or so others of varies different colours. The thickness, say some, may be a sign of morning; black pinanas are worn when a family member has died, the thicker they are the recent the event.  

When these twisted threads are made into a neckless they are called Ulay. They can contain a wonderful array of colours and black threads often indicate death, or that someone just likes black, or that was the colour available in a resource poor world (no easy assumptions here).

When a pinanas is worn on the upper arm it is called a biscal, which shows that the man or boy is handsome (or very cute as is the case for young boys). Some special ones have little balls or fabric, like pompoms! All these items are still relatively common among the Agta of all ages. 

However, some fashions like g-strings, subang (or stretched ears stuffed with flowers, leaves, or thread) and padit (scarification) are now only now evident among the older generation.

 Roger in traditional attire

Really this is an effect of coming into contact with non-Agta populations and the Born Again or 7-day Adventist (I know, a random sect to find in the middle of nowhere) churches who have a strong influence over some Agta communities. So now the younger generation can be ashamed of the old ways, so the girls wear normal earrings, and the men wear same clothes as any other Filipino (but the older ones do profess that a g-string is good for keeping cool!). 

Unok with biscal

Maybe it is because these displays have little, if any, ritual function, that they have started to disappear as the population itself is under pressure to conform to local farming norms. However, everyone will tell you one thing: all these things show you are a strong, beautiful Agta, so I think there is no risk of the cultural identity of Agta dying out just yet.  

My collection of piananas and ring gifts

Love to all,

Wasabi 

Tech Corner: all about power

We  have decided to organise a bit the posts and to sort them into categories in order to change a bit the mood for time to time. So here we are Tech corner 1: Power!

One does not need very long in Philippinnes to figure that the organic way of life, where organisation and schedule is a lot more flexible that in the UK, is also reflected in the way electricity works. Or doesn't. So in Manila, no problems reported so far. In smaller towns like Cauayan, power is supposed to work but often, say 20% of  the time it is not the case. A walk down the streets of the city center shows that small shops often own very small generators that they put on the pavement. Middle size structures such as restaurants were out of electricity, which have to be accounted for when choosing a meal. Big structures like the hotel we stayed had a massive generator which can nicely power the whole place including the air conditionning and  WiFi but for some fortunate reason not the TVs. I am not sure what to make of this. Anyway this was our experience of Cauayan and in some similar places like where we stayed today, there was only 10 minutes with no power, during my shower naturally.

Do not worry as hot water does not exists in Palanan, the place where our study takes place, so the last two months of fieldwork makes me feel ok about fresh showers. In fact in our little town power is available from midday to midnight and provided by a generator situated about 10 miles to the north on the seaside. I guess this makes it much easier to refill the tank rather than having to transport the combustible all the way. So in between the different Agta camps visit, we are coming for a day or two in the town for some culinary delights, more when I have all the pictures ready, and charging all our devices. 

Amongst them is powergorilla. This is a clever piece of gear in the form of a battery that can hold 10 phone charges or 2 laptops ones in a small 700g brick. We also use his brother called solargorilla which is nothing more than a solar panel which in theory give lots of watts and in practice is ok to charge the smartphone and occasional gameboy when the sun is out but not much more. For example, the panel is supposed to replenish the powergorilla but so far our attempts did not prove sucessfull, maybe the summer sun will help. Update: it takes around two days to fully charge the powergorilla on a bright sunny beach...not so bad.

The last piece of kit I have in stock is a gravitylight. I was very proud of it when I bought it via a crowdfunding project, even more when I received it after one year and an half of waiting and only 5 days before flying. So the concept here is to use the gravity, in the form of a bag filled with 12kgs of rocks/bricks/small amounts of dark matter to create some vertical force and move a dynamo. In fact the system is very similar to a grandfather clock with the weights giving the energy for the system. There the rocks moving from 3m to the ground create about 0.1Watt for 20 minutes which with the modern, LED lamp efficiency gives the same sort of light that the one from your smartphone torchlight function. I was really excited to receive it and meet the makers in London and have tried it in UK. Here it is a bit more tricky as we usually have lot of weight already when packing so I haven't tried it yet. Same for my intention to give it, notdone so far as I have only one lamp and am looking for the place it could be the most benificial.

I know this post does not have much information on our life with the Agta so I add here what power they are using: for the lights in the house most places use empty glass bottles filled with kerosen, a sort of unrefined petrol, and a piece of rope to support the flame and avoid to burn the whole oil at once. Unfortunately this precarious solution can sometime claim lives as the glass explodes. I also witnessed for the first time yesterday a house wih a light bulb powered by a motorcycle battery.

Oh and just one last thing as we speak power. During our holidays with Family we went to visit a friedof  a friend  in Manila. She works for a NGO helping young in Slums getting jobs. The project in question is called 3S and a simple business: solar panels on top of a container which charge many small lamp situated inside. The lamp are then rented out for 5 pesos a charge to the families in the slums providing them with aeconomic and sustainaible way of getting light in the evening. What a great idea and it seemms  to work very well as the place was crowed as we visited an hour before sunset.

Next tech corner will be about transportation.

Love to all,

Wasabi.

Photos:

1. Gravity light.

2. Inside the container for the 3s project.

3. Gorillapower and Solargorilla

love to all,

Wasabi.

Camp: Dinipan

After the first two camps, and during the 6th week of this story we were off for a holiday as my mother came for a grand tour of the Philippinnes during an intense 16 days trip which saw us going from volcanos to paradisiac islands and ending in the mountains. This will be told in a video I will make when a powerfull PC is available.

After these three weeks we return to lovely Palanan and ready for the next adventure, Dinipan. Dinipan is situated about 15 kilometers south of the town and is peculiar in the fact that it is the only place we heard of Agta owning land. This represents about 7 hectares of rice fields which they were busy harvesting during our visit. Most adults were there from dawn to 3 in the afternoon away getting the crops needed for the rest of the year, especially during the moonsoon time.

Luckily this didn't mean we lacked activities or adventures.  Many times we were invited by kids to participate in the array of games they played. Also one of our interpreters was not available so we employed  a girl from the local univestiy, ISU, who was very eager to spent time with the kids. So we had myriad of games to learn and experiment with.

On day 5 we had a bit of a scare. As we were casually sitting around a house at coffee time Jomar, the chief of the village, said he had to shared some important news with us. As a matter of a fact he had heard some distressing news from several people when he was in the south a few days back. Jomar explained that an argument occured in a camp about two hours to the south and as a result two westerners and several agta families were shot dead. The grieving families were now seeking revenge, headhunter style, meaning going to any nearby camp to reclaim the lives of lost kin. This tradition was still alive until the 1910s or so and we were told it is practised in a place such as palanan due to it's remoteness and seclusion, remember no roads to get there. So what do we do? The interpreters looked a tad white and suggested a swift trip to town to find out more. We needed more info. So off we go into the small forest leading to the nearby village to enquire with it's captain. No sign of weapons sticking out of the bushes and trees on the way but we are still on guard. The place looked busy, but only for the planning of the next fiesta, music and rum, due to happen in a few weeks. Fortunately they agree to gave us a few spare minutes. The captain asks us want we know at the present and listens carefully. Then, he sits back in its chair, as for taking a moment to think, and laughs. My friends I have heard of no such story. Our land is very peaceful and you are welcome to stay around as  long as you want and join for the upcoming fiesta. He offers a round of coffee. Chou blanc. We decide to call our friends in town and make our way to the signal point. This refers to the few points where mobile phone signal is available. In fact with the distance and landscape the coverage of antennas gets very patchy so there are often dedicated 1 by 1m space for mobile phone use. In our case this is between two trees on the right side of the road just after the basketball court.

In town, one week later. We have heard 10 different stories about what happened in the south such as an arguement over fishing, or mining or some sort of misunderstanding. The one common point between all of them is the absence of headhtuners. It seems that contrary to exotic concepts of tribal warriors running amok (the phrase to run amok orginates from a pacific population in which temporary insanity led men to literally go on a killing spree, called an amok), even the remotest areas of the Philippinnes is safe.  As for the conclusion of our story it
just may have been related to the fact that Jomar told the story and then left for 3 days. It seems it was an Agta style warning to ensure we behave well in the absence of the master. Sadly the Agta have been tricked many times by westerners coming to try and evicate them and tear up the land  in the search of the precious, well in this case gold.

The last notable anecdote of camp number 3 takes place one night at around 2AM. The weather outside haven't been great for the day with heavy rain and a bit of wind. Abbey, half-asleep informs me the strong wind is engulfing the tent and forming air pockets under it. The tent is indeed moving a bit. A quarter of an hour later I awake again. This time something strange is happening. I can feel something lifting my mat and I quite effortlessly, like I sudently had the power to levitate. Light on and lets try to get it. The floor of the tent indeed is moved by a slow oscillation. As I put my hand on it to understand I finally get it. Water, about 10 centimerters of it as guess. As we step outside we get a picture of the situation: the water is above my ankle, it is time to get a move on. We put all our possession on the former mats, now safety rafts. Bags are packed up and off we go half naked in the pouring rain shifting 10 meters to the top of a micro hill, as opposite to the very bottom. The tent definitively works well as the only annoyance was the smell of damp we had for the following week, but hey this house can nearly swim!

This is it for now, the next episode will be about Caniapan, our first excursion to the ocean and it's white sand beaches.

Love to all,
Wasabi.