Mundane routines for my mother...(and some whale shark pics!)

I wrote this post two days ago, but haven't had reliable internet connection for a few days.  Here it is, slightly delayed:

Left Oslob today with a bit of a heavy heart, but an excited back and stomach.  I had a great time there over the last 10 days, working with two fun women, swimming with the sharks, and collecting data that I think will be really useful to the community and hopefully better protect these amazing creatures (I am rather attached now!).  However, after 10 days of sleeping on a camp cot and eating nothing but plain fish and sticky rice every night, I was positively dreaming of a veggie burger and a real mattress.  I won’t get the veggie burger, but the real mattress is already confirmed for tonight and I am STOKED. 

My week and half in Oslob had a set routine, something that has been missing from much of time here.  My mother commented the other day that I wasn’t telling her much about the ‘mundane’, so here is a very long winded explanation of this routine (you asked for it, IC!).  We’d wake up at 5:30 (which apparently is not an ungodly hour, as church services are held here at this time and all business are open by about 6am), grab our fins, masks, underwater slates and cameras, and head to the jeepney stand at the market.  Before hopping aboard our ride, we’d pick up some bananas and bread for the day’s snacks.  Bakeries are EVERYWHERE here, but unfortunately, while their cases are chock full of delicious looking breads and pasteries, they are all sadly disappointing, tasting like over processed flour, sweetener, preservatives and usually slightly stale.  

Don't be fooled, none of these are delicious.

We’d then hop on a jeepney, which is a curious vehicle (see pic below) that packs a lot of people on two parallel benches in the back.  Translink operators would lose their mind in a jeepney as NOBODY moves back.  In fact, everyone sits as close to the door as possible and piles all their stuff (including enormous sacks of rice and boxes of fruit) right in front of the only entrance/exit, so when you get on you have to crawl and claw your way over people and stuff to get a seat.  The jeepney ride was about 20 minutes to Tan-Awan and we’d all zone out, watching the scenery go by.  To get off the jeepney, you either make kissy noises or bang a coin against the metal post as loudly as you can. 

Jeeney travels

Upon arriving in Tan-Awan (and clambouring over the people and stuff to get out again, usually accidentally clocking someone with fins), we’d sign in with the whale shark registration desk ladies, who were always very happy to see us.  Everyone always calls you ma’am here, which is pronounced more like ‘Mom’. Then it was off to set up at Marilyn’s, one of about 5 ‘resorts’ that the tour boats run out of. We’d grab a table, spread out our stuff, and feel inadequate because every other table was occupied by a large Philippino family that had brought enough food to feed an entire army.  Seriously, entire pigs and 3 gallon buckets of rice for a day at the seaside! 

Data collection usually went from about 7-12:00, with all of us rotating through the different tasks during our three ‘shifts’: in-water behaviour/compliance data, photo-id, on-land boat surveys.  We’d get suited up on land and then make our way into the water, swimming out to the interaction zone. In the water, the boatmen would usually greet us with a smile and wave, sometimes excited if a new shark was in, sometimes annoyed if we were in their way (oops!).  Between shifts we would eat brekkie, catch our breath, and growl about our frustration with those that refused to follow the rules or those who flagrantly broke them to annoy us. 

When work was done around 1, we’d head down to the barangay office (local government) to get the number of registered tourists for the day.  During holy week, nearly 2000 people came through to see the sharks, but this week it was only about 400 a day.  

On-land data collection

In the water data collection (and my butt!):

Whale shark photo ID

Can you spot the whale shark behind the feeding boat?

We’d then catch a bus or jeepney back to Oslob, grab some fruit or veggies at the market, and then head back to our place to shower off the saltwater, enter our data, eat some lunch and (for me) crash for an hour in the hammock.

Pineapple for lunch

Outside of the market

The fact that a group of foreigners were staying in a house in Oslob was a bit of a local curiousity (most people only come to see the sharks and then leave the same day, so there isn’t a lot of overnight tourism), so I woke up a few times from my nap with a bit of an audience.  Sometimes I’d do my data entry outside on the porch, which would also draw an audience who would very quietly watch me type numbers into an excel document.  Not exactly what I would consider riveting, but the local kids (and some adults) seemed rather enthralled. 

Our house in Oslob.

By 6 it’s dark and we’d usually head out slightly thereafter for dinner.  There isn't a lot of choice in Oslob and we’d been warned that the ;eateries' were less than stellar, so we ate most nights at the BBQ stands outside the market.  For meat eaters, there is a plethora of choice- including chicken feet, intestines on a stick and very odd coloured hot dogs, should you desire. For the non-meat eaters, it’s a bit lacking.  I’d head into the market with one of my co-workers usually and buy some fish (a type of mackerel) and the BBQ stand would grill it for you.  Of course, there was the mandatory sticky rice, which at the stands comes neatly packaged in woven palm leaf packets.  You dip it in a concoction of soy sauce, vinegar (?), and chile.  Watch the chiles, they are small but potent and I nearly burned my lips off one night! At the BBQ stands, we had a reputation among local stray dogs of giving out scraps, so we always had motley company. After dinner, we got in the habit of perking up our bland meals with a little ice cream bar, which was my saving grace as I was going insane with the repetition of plain food.  By 9pm, we were usually all tuckered out on our uncomfortable camp cots, fan blowing at max speed to try and keep us cool. 

Scenes from the market at night:

The one exception to this routine was the night we were invited to a party of one of the local boatmen.  It had all the hallmarks of an awesome Philippino party: karaoke, home-brewed coconut liquor, and a whole roast pig.  To all the meat-eaters in my life, you will be happy to know that I ate the pig.  It’s sort of the BIG dish of the Philippines, so I figured for a cultural experience I should try it (that and the fact that there was nothing else to eat and I didn’t want to be rude by refusing).  It’s called lechon and is essentially a whole young pig, roasted on a spit.  My next confession: it was freakin’ delicious.  Now don’t get too excited (especially you, carnivorous father), I am not becoming a pork eater- especially since this was so good according to my meat-eating coworkers that I am sure I would be disappointed by anything else. But yes, I enjoyed it.  The skin gets all crispy and salty, which was particularly tasty and likely heart-attack inducing.  Here is proof (please note the picture was staged, I don’t normally make this face when eating…at least I hope not). 

So there you have it: a mundane post about routine and some pics of everyday life (and a few of sharks, how can you resist?).