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Published: January 16th 2014
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After the relief of the previous night and having thought we were finished, I was surprised to hear that we were doing another relief trip – this time going to Gigantes Island, or more specifically, Bantigue Island which is in the same area. It’s a tiny island of about 15 families all hit hard by Yolanda. What I was told is that the major relief organisations simply don’t reach areas as remote as this, similar to te mountains of Capiz where we were previouisly. To put it in perspective how small some of these islands are, another friend of mine told me that during Yolanda, some of them went underwater.
I was actually looking forward to the trip as I’d seen previously how beautiful the Gigantes were. I made sure to confirm though that we’d be staying on sand, and there would be no mud. Check. Excellent. We said goodbyes to Captain Mamaludin who’d been a fantastic host, and took a decent bus trip over to Estancia Port on the Eastern side of the island. Once there, I needed to get cash out from the ATM. The only ATM in town. Of course, it was not in service, and no
cash was had. There’s a tip for the Philippines, if you ever visit – only about 1 in 5 ATMs in remote locations actually work, so be prepared in advance. A lesson I would learn and then forget all over again when I later went to Boracay via Kalibo. Anyway, I digress.
It was a very windy day and of course, the wind was going directly against us on the way to Gigantes. It’s largely an open sea trip so we felt the full brunt of the waves and it took us about 4 hours to get there. To put in perspective how much the wind slowed us down, the return trip took all of an hour and a half. Anyway by about hour number two, I had puked into a plastic bag kindly given to me by a young man from Gigantes who was heading home and judging by how well prepared he was, had obviously seen such seasick white guys like myself before.
When we finally pulled into Gigantes was just incredible. For me it was love at first sight. While our group didn’t disembark, I made sure to jump off the boat and swim in
the luxuriously warm turquoise waters. This to date is the most beautiful beachside or water area I’ve seen on my trip, even more so than the stunning Boracay or Coron. Perhaps it’s the remoteness that struck a chord with me. A quick swim and it was about 30 minutes more to our destination, Bantigue Island, and it was just about dark by the time the boat pulled onto their jutting out sand bank. We had to get supplies off the boat. Kids from the island had raced up to the sandbank and started helping us cart them off, even though some of the stuff was quite heavy. I liked this place already.
When all the supplies were off the boat we moved over to the residences, which were right on the shore. You’d pay millions for this kind of view elsewhere. There was a sense of urgency due to the winds and possible rains in getting the tent up, and some of the men and boys got straight to helping without even saying a word. I didn’t know what I was doing but tried to take orders as best I could – hold this, move that. Meanwhile, pretty much the whole island’s population of about 50 had crowded around watching, and others from our group who weren’t doing the tent were rationing out food and clothing to the locals. This was an express mission, we just hit the ground running. People laughed, said thanks, took what they needed, but there was no time for games unlike Capiz.
Once things were settled down I got a chance to look around and see what a special place this was to set eyes on. It was pitch black as far as you could see past the sand bank. There was true solitude and the raw feeling of nature on that island. The locals prepared us dinner and were super accommodating. One older woman in particular with deep wise eyes told the story in Tagalog, translated to me by UP members, of what happened during Yolanda. The homes were buried in a metre of sand. Roofs were torn off. Nobody died, which is fantastic, but there was still work to be done in getting re-settled. They cooked what I know as dried squid, which is apparently how they make most of their money. It’s a delicacy over in the Philippines and other parts of Asia so they make a tidy profit off it. I personally can’t stand it! It’s one of the most pungent things I’ve smelt, and I couldn’t eat it. But I’m happy they’ve found a way to make ends meet.
Once again, I was in awe at the people’s resilient and happy spirit. The kids were laughing their heads off and trying to speak English with me. Once I pointed to the roof and asked what happened, as it was missing roof sheets. They took this as me complaining, though, at the lack of shelter! As quick as you can blink a teenage kid jumped up onto the pole and started tarping up the roof with gymnastic skills and nous I’ve hardly seen. It was up in about 30 seconds. They’re just so keen to be hospitable and help out – I felt bad because I wasn’t even complaining! But it’s testament to their character.
We slept in the tent on the sand and I woke up the next morning to hear hard rain. Oh no, but at least it’s not muddy I thought. The tent was empty so I looked outside, and all the guys were in the water swimming. At this time of the morning. In the freezing rain. I mean it, these guys are all mad! They call out to me to join them. Oh, I couldn’t… could I? Alright I think, and I do it. I get in the water and straight away I’m offered Emperador brandy. Wait, what?! Yep, they’ve taken a bottle into the water with them and are laughing their heads off about something or other as usual. I’m really just not in the mood for it so I decline, but it’s fun to have a swim once I got past the coldness. Before long, the super happy kids from the island had joined us. Other guys were giving them piggy backs in the water, high fiving them like they’d been friends for life. Great people and great kids. I actually lost my glasses doing a belly flop dive and when I told the guys, the kids just dove into the water head down and began frantically looking for them. Of course, they found them in about a minute. I just can’t talk highly enough of these people. I asked group leader Jacq to give them a little reward for finding them, as I had no money. She did.
And not too long later, the tent was unpoacked, breakfast was had, and the boat had arrived to pick us up. A couple of kids and the older lady with the deep eyes joined us for the trip back as they needed to do some things in Estancia. On the way, we ducked into a cavern in Gigantes. It was just beautiful, as I’d been becoming accustomed to, and we got a few photos.
We pulled into the port and saw a fisherman wrestling a reef shark he’d just caught. The other guys dared me to try Balut which is fresh duck foetus in an egg. There was no way I was going near one, let alone eat it. As they told me though, “if it moves, we eat it!” and gladly tucked in. Each to their own I guess!
And we were one bus trip away from the airport and to safe familiar land.
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