Advertisement
Published: April 9th 2008
Edit Blog Post
I understand now why seamen used to believe in mermaids, maybe still do. I stood on the shore of a choppy south China Sea and I understood. As the fading sun slipped in an around the waves I could swear I saw heads poking out of the water in curiosity. Impossible. But the endless expansion of busy sea, the slight of eye, the mistake of subconscious could make a person believe anything.
A bright pink sarong fluttered around my legs, the wind was buttery against my skin, the sand that stuck wetly to my feet had been warm when I had stepped in it. It stretched for miles on either side of me, towards gentle sloping hills to my right and nestling bright colored fishing boats to my left. I could have been told at that moment that this beaches stretches all the way around the edge of Luzon - like an over sized deserted island - and I would have believed it. It looked just as tropical with the palms and cabanas behind me. Everywhere was nippa and bamboo, buko and brown children with shiny wet bodies.
We arrived around 5pm and I watched the sun go down
from the beach. The sunset reminded me of watching the sun set over Manila Bay the second week I was here. The same fushia and orange fusion, the same fire ball peeking between stripes of cloud, the same gray, soggy mist sneaking in from the edges to carry in the night. What a different situation I am in now. When I watched the sun set over Manila Bay I was overwhelmed by the squatter community behind me and the pollution in front of me. I cried that night, because seeing such a beautiful sight in such a desperate place was too much for my senses. Standing, watching the sun set over the South China sea this weekend I felt stronger. The situations I see are no less desperate, in fact, after almost three months I can now see all the reasons why the situation in the Philippines is more sad, more difficult and more impossible then I could ever have imagined standing on the beach in Manila. Today I garner strength from the people around me who keep fighting in this desperate environment, and from knowing that I will be added my 100% of my energy to this struggle for
the next 9 months. Standing on the beach, warm water washing up and down over my toes, I was actually able to enjoy the beautiful scenery around me,because God intended for it to be this beautiful, and because it is what the Filipinos are fighting for, what we are fighting for.
Like always the sun seemed to linger a mile above the horizon for hours and then within minutes of deciding to finally go down it rushed the last distance into the water. I found myself suddenly standing in the blue light of dusk, my still barely having even lost the warmth from the sun's touch. The small fishing boats I had watched shove off from all along the shore where now dots in the distance, just slightly darker then the blue of the duck sky. Slowly they all faded into the dark horizon, lighting their lanterns and becoming parallel spots of light on the water.
I counted the dots on the horizon, left to right and then right to left, each time getting a higher number. I was distracted before I could hit 30 by the magical scene. instead of standing on the shore of an endless sea
I felt like I could be in my bikini in August standing at the edge of French Lake, looking out at the porch lights on the opposite shore. I think I love the lights of the fishing boats the most, I think they were the most beautiful part of my weekend trip to the beach. They make the horizon seem so much closer and make the world seem a lot less big and me feel a lot less small.
I returned to our cabana as the sounds of eating and videokee started to filter down the beach. Manja and I ate grilled fresh local tuna and bananas and were serenaded by the old man who owned our hotel. The air was warm around us, and did not get chilly as the night progressed. At midnight Manja turned to me with a mischievous grin on her face. I could read her mind from the look in her eye and grinned back, a midnight swim it was. We where the only ones still awake t our hotel, except for the attentive old wife of the owner. She chided us about our planning, telling us we could encounter gay men sleeping on
the beach. But Manja and I where intoxicated by the thunder of the waves in the quiet night. We also had no real fear of being molested by gay men. Waiting until the wife was inside the kitchen we grabbed our towels and rushed form the cabana into the dark.
I was stopped short half way down to the water by the sky that emerged from behind the palms. The bowl above us was bigger then any sky I have ever seen. The layers of stars was even heavier and more impressive then the winter sky in New Brunswick. I turned in a wide circle. Manja laughed at me for my dropped jaw. Inspired I dropped my towel and ran into the water. The warm serf on my toes earlier hadn't gotten any colder and for the first time in my life I immersed myself in water without having to hesitate at the top of my legs or suck in the loud "holy shit that's cold" breath. It was amazing. To prove it to myself I moved around, coming almost all the way out and getting all the way back in - the water was warm, the air was
warm, there was no shivering involved at all. The whole thing was throwing my senses.
We stayed in the water for about 20 minutes, floating swimming, just moving our arms back and forth. Along the contours of our bodies the fish equivalent of fire flies flashed and died with a bright blue/white light. I counted the fishing boats along the horizon as I bobbed on the waves, enjoying the way they blended into the stars, and fought the urge to ask Manja if there where sharks in the South China Sea.* Letting go and not needing to know so I can just enjoy the moment is a new quality I am developing here. I swam without fear instead, and felt like the mermaid I had been looking for from the beach.
*Don't worry Mom, I asked about sharks later - there are sharks in the South China Sea, but none right off the coast Luzon. So I was safe the entire time I was in the water.
Advertisement
Tot: 0.1s; Tpl: 0.016s; cc: 10; qc: 50; dbt: 0.0603s; 1; m:domysql w:travelblog (10.17.0.13); sld: 1;
; mem: 1.2mb
Debbie Smith
non-member comment
surf
Hi Nic. I loved the descriptive parts of this blog. It sounds so inviting, no wonder you loved it there. Mom