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My ride to Sogod
That little silver Hyundai across the street is my ride to Sogod.On my umpteenth time of eating at Kinamot Restaurant I began to notice that there was a Westerner who frequented the place, an old guy with gray hair, about sixty years old or so, or at least he looked like it, sitting alone in a table for two on the far end of the veranda. What the hell he's doing here I'll never know. He could be American, he could be European, Australian, whatever the hell he is, I don't care but you don't normally see white people walking around alone in the Philippines. They are either accompanied by their mail order brides or are a traveling group of young backpackers from Europe. I have yet to see a lone white traveler until now, but this guy did not look like he's a traveler, or was going anywhere. He seemed like he was content to just sit and eat here everyday without anyone bothering him. Perhaps he's one of those whack jobs who's wanted for committing a horrendous crime in the US, like child molestation - the real killer of Jon Benet Ramsey - and is now hiding in anonymity in Maasin, Southern Leyte.
Another Lhuillier Pawnshop
These Lhuillier frogs are such aggressive bloodsuckers. There must be a Lhuillier pawnshop, Cebuana, Negrense or what not, in every town of every Province in the Philippines. Perhaps I should contact the FBI when I get back to the states and report this guy. Who knows? There might be a million dollar bounty on this guy's head. You'll never know with these people.
No backpacker land The best thing about traveling in a remote and unknown province like Southern Leyte is the absence of young backpackers from Europe or the United States. Mostly Europe. The people that do visit this place have a little more resources than your usual
on a shoe string budget
traveler because the main attraction here is diving and the accomdations provided by the dive resorts will probably break the banks of your average backpacker.
I however, am not here for diving and neither am I a backpacker. Hell, I admire those guys for braving it out, travel the world over with little money and endure many discomforts along the way for no other reason than just to travel, meet new people, experience the differences between East and West, eat god awful food, be gawked at by the natives and feel super special (and superior) just because you're white, feel fortunate that you don't live in poverty like many in South East Asia do,
My Barangay
My Family owns this town. Not! There are many towns and barangays named San Roque in the Philippines. blog blog blog blog about it, and go home a blog blog blog about it some more. And when you're friends are finally tired of listening to you blabbler about what a wonderful life-changing it-so-opened-my-eyes-and-my mind (perhaps you lost your viriginty too) experience you've had and they can't stand to listen another word that comes out of your trap, you blog about it some more. So I appreciate many of you people out there who, like me, have nothing better to do than fill this travel blog community with nonsense because it provides me with a lot of comedy and a lot of entertainment.
There was no logical or practical reason for choosing this particular province of Southern Leyte. Rather, I picked it randomly, provided it was a place on the map that had never been blogged about or written about by the guides. I've seen only two pages worth of entries, at most, in both The Lonely Planet and The Rough Guide, so this was a perfect spot. I had no intention of going to such oft visited places as Boracay or Bohol's Panglao Island. Too many tourists, too much aggravation. No thanks.
The Road to Sogod Malitbog
A girl watches dance practice in the park. Filipinos have a passion for dancing, singing, and general good old celebrating. So here I am, riding in a little Hyundai sedan, going on a trip to Sogod, and not knowing what in the hell is going to happen. I had arranged to get a ride from a privately owned vehicle from the fella that I had met a couple of days ago. The owner of the Huyndai is a landowner from Sogod, and he also owns a house there with his large family. All he asked for is 2000 pesos (I have no idea if that's exorbitant, I'm just playing it by ear) and to fill up the tank on our way back. I said sure, no problem. I rode up front with the driver while his wife sat in the back seat and provided some commentary about this place and that, relatives who live nearby, the rich history of Southern Leyte, and anything she could think of. She was yapping away while her husband tried to navigate the narrow expressway. There are many houses that lie along or near the highway, all kinds from your ramshackle nipa hut that could barely withstand a mild storm to your immaculately built palacial abode. The wife told me that most these big westernized
Hang on snoopy, snoopy hang on.
Another loaded jeepney. Beautiful. houses are owned by either Overseas Foreign Workers (OFWs) or by Balikbayan Filipinos from the United States.
As we pulled away from the bustling city of Maasin the traffic got a little lighter and the scenery became more rural and serene. I see women washing their clothes in the river, I see men hiking up the hills with a machete in hand and barefoot, no shoes, no socks, no dice. I see children bathing in the open with a bucket of water that they obtained from the community hand pump, and by the coast I see fishermen fixing their nets by their boats. Most of the people here live very simple lives. A family of twelve could be living in a small nipa hut by the sea, an idyllic scene but deplorable nonetheless. The problem in the province is the lack of industries which provide jobs and elevate peoples standard of living. But many people here have been living like this for centuries and they simply don't know anything different. Thus, what may seem like a delporable living condition to idiots like me is actually a normal way of living for these folks. Their level of comfort is just
Sogod Pier
Kids diving off the bow of a ship. calibrated to a different scale than you and me. I did not feel sorry for these people, I only felt sorry for myself for being ignorant.
One thing that you will always see though, wether you pass through a small barangay or a relatively populous town like Malitbog, is a karaoke machine. These things are everywhere in the Philippines. A small hut the size of a garage is all you need, some sort of shelter, to place these things and people will come and belt out their rendition of
Feelings
(Pilings in the local vernacular).
The road from Maasin to Sogod via Malitbog is long and winding and follows the coastal outlines of Sogod Bay. We reached Padre Burgos where many of the dive resorts are and stopped by the pier to look at Limasawa Island, the place of the first catholic mass held in the Philippines, an ominous event no less because the whole country went to hell in a hand basket after then. Burgos sits at the mouth to the entrance on the west side of Sogod Bay. A few kilometers ahead is Malitbog, a small town renowned for being the hometown of the Escano Family.
Cute kid from the Pier
The kids in the Philippines have got be the cutest little creatures around. The Escanos (there's a tilde above the end, so it's pronounced Es-can-yo) once owned the biggest shipping line in the Philippines. The wife of the owner-driver of the car I'm riding told me that something happened to the business in the 80's and for some reason they went bankrupt. I wanted to visit their magnificent Villa, The Villa Margarita, but was told that the wife of Don Ramon Escano did not appreciate the kind of attention the Villa was getting and was particularly dismayed at the the 2004 edition of Lonely Planet description that portrayed it as some freaky haunted house. Hence, if you look at the 2006 edition of Lonely Planety you will notice that the long blurb on Villa Margarita has been removed.
We finally reached Sogod in the afternoon, around 1:30 PM. We grabbed a bite to eat at some small restaurant called Panelan. It was strange to see that most of the shops it Sogod, with the exception of the restaurant of course, shut their doors for lunch and siesta. Yes, that tradition is still alive here. After lunch most shop keepers take a thirty to one hour siesta, then reopen again at around 1:30
Sogod Bay from Libagon
There's a natural spring water down below from where I took this picture. in the afternoon. After a walk around Sogod town my hosts, the owner of the Hyundai and his wife, took me to their other home just outside of Sogod town, in a barangay called Consolacion. I was stunned to see such a pretty little place, not too big but enough room for just the two of them, a two story four bedroom house designed like one of those modern houses that you see on the coast of California. Everything about the house was Americanized, from the furnitures to the bathrooms and the satellite televsion. They've requested that their names not be used at all if I was going to blog about them and so I won't because they have been so kind to me, letting me stay at their house and making me feel like a part of the family. Thus, this little journey will have to end here.
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peter
non-member comment
Another white guy
I refer to your comments about the white guy in Sogod sitting alone eating. I am not the white guy however, I am another white guy from england and have been to Maasin city many many times (where my wifes family all live) and i spend time wandering there and riding my motorcycle because it is a wonderful place and Maasinhons are wonderful people. I am white but I feel at home there and feel like just another city dweller passing the time of day when sitting outside jollibee or a cafe eating or drinking coke. I love to wander the streets of Maasin, i dont feel threatened or intimidated i just feel at home. I have been to the Philippines around 7 times in 2 years and each time i feel i am going home. In the philippines i know white people can be in danger in certain parts but i have only ever met 1 bad filipino who wanted to cause trouble. I love the Philippines and the people there, i would be proud if i were filipino and am proud to call the ones i know as friends. I began by learning to speak Tagalog but when i met my wife i began learning Visya instead. My wife wasnt a mail order bride and i feel that the comments you made were unjustified about the white guy (maybe a child molester or a killer etc) maybe like me he feels at home there with all the wonderful filipinos. PLease do not take offense at my words, i just mean to say we are just people (white or otherwise) and we all have a story to tell.