bagacay beach resort became my home for the next six days. it's a quiet place just a few minutes away from the town proper. i later realized it's also a prime spot for lovers to spend overnight or even "short time" (three hours or less) in one of its private rooms. how ironic -- i was there for a project about safe motherhood and reproductive health, and everywhere i look around the resort there's lot of S-E-X going on. but i'm not complaining. for once i've found a sex-ridden place that doesn't feel or look sleazy. all in all, i'd say my field anchor did a good job of securing a place that could serve as our field headquarter.
anyway, the resort has a lot of wholesome things to offer as well. the more public areas of the resort are always full of families and barkadas having picnics and playing parlor games. the restaurant also has a videoke bar that goes on until wee hours of the morning (oh my ghulay, my tenga). don't get me wrong -- the locals have awesome vocal prowess, but maybe only about a fourth of them could get the somewhat proper pronounciation for the english songs that they so love to sing.
i hit the ground running, and on the first day i claimed one of the beachside cottages in the name of sws. from then on, for the next six day, the locals would have known me as "the guy from sws". i stuck out like a sore thumb because of the bundles of questionnaires i carry around. from sun up to sun down, i checked the questionnaires, pausing only for meals, rest, and, if the pressure and drudgery get unbearable, a quick swim.
in some ways i was thankful i hadn't that much time to look at the place, because upon closer scrutiny, one will see how mismanaged the entire resort is. there's not a single trash can in sight, and people just leave their mess around. the only thing that has kept this place's garbage levels bearable is that one guy who sweeps the place twice a day. in between his daily routine of cleaning the place, i would find him snoozing in a hammock under a tree. it became my daily habit to remind the nice ladies at the restaurant (one of them being the wife of the resort owner) to place a garbage can in every room and cottage. gosh i hope they paid attention.
it is in the evenings that the place reveals its full beauty and charm. the sea becomes still, and when you stand in its shoulder-deep waters, you could almost hear the sun set. and when the sun finally sinks beneath the horizon, fishing boats create myriads of lights that look like lanterns floating in endless stretch of black and blue.
calbayog city and its barangays are mainly fishing communities. it is somewhat baffling, however, to find the prices of fish just a fraction lesser than the ones you'll find in manila. ah it must be that inevitable tendency for prices to go up once the seller learn that you're not a local. even my field anchor, who is from leyte, had a hard time bagging a fairly cheap catch.
but it's in places like these where i can leave my supply of antihistamine behind, and have absolute faith that the fish and seafoods are fresh, fresh, fresh! (i somehow developed severe allergies to unfresh prawns and crabs. bad bad. you won't find the prawns and crabs here in the photo because i ate them all up.)
calbayog has the finest pedicabs i've seen, so far -- large, sturdy, and fast with the cab under full suspension. the pedicabs use the kind of bicycle just like what my lolo used in his younger days. the bodies are not alloy, and they's darn heavy. at first i thought they're cumbersome to use, but they adjusted the gears to deliver maximum power for a fast and easy drive. the steel bodies make these pedicabs one heck of powerloaders, too.
the pedicabs charge five pesos more than the motorized tricycle for long distance trips, but it's a nice, relaxing ride. i was told that the true makers of these pedicabs originated from catbalogan (the capital city of western samar), but the artworks has adapted a uniquely calbayog characteristics (i wouldn't know, haven't had the time to stop by catbalogan).
finally, i give thanks to the field anchors and field interviewers -- they are the foundation of survey research. these extraordinary girls have braved storms and slippery slopes, long walks and hostile territories. here, they share their success stories, as well as tales of horror -- and i will always wonder at the inner strength each one of them possesses.
going home, i decided to take the bus. little did i realize i was off to my last samar (mis)adventure. warning: do not ride buses with no signboard! the bus i rode was a "kolorum" (unregistered), and we got flagged by police and traffic enforcers in every checkpoint. in every occasion, the driver has a "lagay" (bribe) ready at hand, but not after a fifteen-minute or so charade and what-nots with the enforcers. my ghulay, corruption is alive and kicking!
and so after getting flagged six times all the way from calbayog to tacloban city, i was sure i'd miss my flight had it been on time. but the flight is RARELY on time in tacloban, as i was already informed by the office days ago that the flight WILL be one hour delayed. just the same, i learned my lesson to take only the tried and tested modes of transportation (in this case, Grand Tours or any of the established bus liners, such as Philtranco, Tritran, and Bltbco).it's good to be back. Ü
No comments:
Post a Comment