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Published: November 15th 2005
Cleaning up my files, I found this little article I wrote right after our trip to Malapascua in the summer of 2002. Just wanted to share it. Sadly, all our pics of the trip were in manual cameras so can't post them here.
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Illumination in Malapascua
I heard of Malapascua for the very first time in the October 2001 issue of Cosmopolitan. I was, for lack of a better term, smitten. I decided I just had to go. So I did.
My boyfriend and I are avid supporters of Pinoy tourism. Once while watching CNN, we saw for the first time the wowPhilippines ad. No joke - we both got teary-eyed. It’s a great ad, one of those you can truly be proud of.
While our friends dream of vacationing in foreign countries, we want to do the rounds of the local spots. So this summer found us in Malapascua (Cebu) and Bohol.
Malapascua Island is THE northernmost tip of Cebu. It is, as most travel magazines would say, Cebu’s best-kept secret. The four-hour bus ride through sugarcane plantations and narrow, semi-paved roads was bumpy and dusty, testing my city-girl patience to the limits. But the ride which started in Cebu City literally took me through the spectrum of wealth to poverty, of cosmopolitan to rural, of modernity to old fashion, of excess to basics. It showed me the true provincial life I had never before seen.
Born and raised in Manila, I never had the childhood in the provinces many people look back on with pride and delight. The natural greens and the fresh air, the nipa huts and the pet cows/carabaos/pigs in the backyard, the whole “countryside package”, were things I only see in newspapers and TV. But thirty minutes into the bus and what I was missing was presented to me for my full absorption.
While the change of scenery delighted me, it also made me sad to see how poor the countryside seemed to be. Of course, the term “poor” is relative. One could always argue that while the lack of proper facilities in a place I would consider poor, they would consider me poorer for I had none of the fresh air and breathtaking view of the ocean and nature they had 24 hours a day.
Many of the houses were made of nipa. The few made of concrete were either unfinished or were in various states of disrepair. There were very few establishments. It amused me that life in the barrios seemed centered on the public markets and the buses roaring down the dusty roads every hour or so. Schools were out for the summer so the schoolhouses looked forlorn. People gathered under trees, cooling off the summer heat, watching and waiting for people they know alight from the buses.
We reach Malapascua, Cebu’s paradise, and we were instantly transported to a different world. The clear green and blue waters and the sparkling white sands remind you of Boracay. But the comparison ends there. There were very few people about, mostly foreigners baking in the midday sun. The entire stretch of the beach was quiet. I read an article where the author reminisces his arrival in the island with both annoyance and embarrassment. Annoyance because the bus ride to the island caused him to have a sneeze attack and extreme embarrassment because that was all the sound that could be heard in the island!
Malapascua is a haven. Sadly though, it seemed to be a haven created for foreigners. The resorts were mostly owned and operated by Europeans married to Filipinas. The locals seem to have been reduced to serving in the restaurants and the bars. The menus were meant to relieve the homesickness of foreigners. It carried their comfort food, not ours.
Lazy is the word that comes to mind when I think of the island. Time seems to stop still at the island. The nights were given to stargazing or quiet talks in the bars along the beach. There is no nightlife. There, you get to have the early nights so few can have in the busy, busy world of Manila.
Electricity comes at night, limited to 6 hours only. Only the resorts have 24-hour electricity courtesy of their high-powered generators. The island displays a stark contrast between the foreigners and the locals. It evokes a feeling somewhat close to pity that our own land and waters are being used by foreigners while the locals are swept into the sidelines. The locals of the island are not allowed at the beach. We noticed them swimming on the not-so-public areas of the island - the waters at the bend of the island or in hidden coves.
We met a woman named Anita in the resort where we were staying. She was the resort’s cook-GRO-bartender in one. A lively person, she said she used to “live the high life”. She was either housekeeper or nanny to many rich people in her past life. She lived in Beverly Hills for 5 years serving as housekeeper to a doctor. She was stationed in Tokyo for 7 years caring for a US Diplomat’s child. She knew Filipino politicians by first name, having “partied” with them in the past. She learned how to be rich, she said, even if she wasn’t exactly one.
At 44, she has already been working for 34 years and so she sort of retired in her hometown. She stays now in Malapascua, speaking Cebuano, Tagalog, English and Japanese, depending on the nationality of their guests. She’s far from rich, she says, but she earns what she needs, she is free from stress. She smiles a lot not because her job calls for it, but because she feels like it. Here, she is not a nanny nor a housekeeper. Her boss is European but they’re friends (equals) and she is Queen of the island. Finally, she sighs, she is really rich. I look at the island, the beautiful stretch of white sand and blue water, the warm smiles of the children, the quiet banter of natives under the coconut trees. I pause.
And then I believe.
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debbie
non-member comment
Yes, Malapascua is truly a paradise...like a beautiful dream you don't want to wake up.