Philippines: Return to the Pacific

Farewell Indian Ocean

October 17, 2006

My last sight of Bali was of a flat day at Airport Lefts, the vista from our business class lounge. Dead tired after surviving our final night in Kuta Beach, we thanked our lucky stars that we didn’t end up dead-dead, care of the “Smiling Bomber” and his comrades from Jemaah Islamiah. We took our final glances of the Bukit Peninsula and its famous surf before the plane veered north for Singapore. Crossing the South China Sea we were on our way to the world’s second largest archipelago: the Pacific island nation of the Philippines.
We arrived to the mega city of
Manila late that night and headed towards its center with our trusted cabbie. The first thing I spotted was the Jeepney. These WWII jeep relics are the quintessential form of public transportation in the Philippines. Picture a jeep, stretched out like a limo, covered with flash airbrushed murals, interior decked out with catholic idols, topped with a neatly stenciled “How’s my driving? Call 444-9922” on the tail.
Cruising down the boulevard practically every American fast food restaurant was represented. Billboards advertising random products in English, the American female DJ on the radio, I started to wonder where I actually was. It felt as though I was in sort of a South East Asian-American hybrid country. It wasn’t until I placed my cold bottle of San Miguel Beer on the counter of 7-11, hearing the girl say (in perfect English) “40 Pesos please”, that I realized, “Hell ya, we’re in the Philippines!!”

Manila Dog Days
We found a good hotel in a bad side of town. Smack in the middle of Manila, home to 11 million people. Right down the street from the US Embassy, the neighborhood used to be the go-to spot for American GI’s, full of bars and “Bar Girls”. The bars are still there, along with the girls and what Adam and I referred to as S-exPats.
Despite the shady nature of the area, this is where we needed to be to take care of business. Navigating the gauntlet of Philippine bureaucracy for our visa extensions, sorting out transportation to Siargoa Island, and purchasing a cell phone took us three days. Yes indeed, world travel is hard work.
Unfortunately we couldn’t fly directly into Siargao since the flights were booked solid. Instead we opted to fly to the town of Butuan in the province of Mindanao. From there we would take a bus to the northern end of the island and simply take a ferry over to Siargao. Too Easy.

Road to Siargao
Flying over the archipelago made up of Jewel like islands surrounded by brilliantly clear water, we arrived to the town of Butuan located on the top of Mindanao Island. Reading the Manila paper on the flight I discovered that a terrorist bombing, involving the Muslim separatist group Abu Sayyaf, had occurred sixty miles to the south east of Butuan a few days earlier. But I wasn’t afraid of the terrorists. I was more afraid of the guy who just struck up a conversation with Adam upon landing.
A balding white man in his mid fifties, Frank claimed he was in Mindanao for SCUBA diving. He accompanied us to the baggage claim in the tiny rural airport, babbling how this was his first time back to the Philippines after his tour of duty with “Air America”, some supposed CIA covert stuff. To me he seemed more like the type of guy who worked at an army surplus store, dreaming up shit like that all day long. I had this guy pegged for what he was.
After grabbing his single duffle bag from the baggage carriage (mind you no SCUBA gear), he asked where we were heading. Adam and I negotiated a taxi to take us the one-hour journey to the north and we offered to drop him off at his hotel in Butuan. Stopping at a gas station, we used the opportunity to get some cold drinks. Frank decided to get out, said his farewell, and preceded to walk towards the mall, his duffle bag in hand. Minutes later he returned saying that they wanted to search his bag before he entered and there was “no way in Hell” he was going to let “these people” search his bag.
What was the big deal? After all, with the terror threat in the Philippines, mall front searches were common practice. He clearly had something to hide in that bag. What was in there I could only speculate (child pornography?), but I was sure he was some kind of sex tourist.
The Philippines have the infamy for being the sex tourism capital of the world. I began to look at all non-surfers as S-expats, especially the pasty, balding, middle-aged white men wearing Hawaiian print shirts. I know it was a prejudgment as many men are there for legitimate reasons, on business or looking for a wife (fair enough). But I couldn’t help suspect that the vast majority were there to exploit women and children, taking advantage of a desperation created by poverty.

Surgao City, Mindanao
We arrived in Suraao city in the afternoon, giving us enough time to find a hotel and sort out our ferry ticket to Siargao Island the next morning. The town’s main form of public transportation came in the form of “tricycles”. Consisting of basically a motorcycle and side cart, the tricycles buzzed around like robots from some science fiction movie.
The fee for a tricycle was a fixed rate, something unheard of in Indonesia. We took the tricycles to fetch money and get a bite to eat. Upon returning to our hotel, Adam discovered that someone had stole $30 from his room. It was obviously an inside job and we were furious. The staff was not friendly to our complaints which made the situation that more uncomfortable, and we couldn’t wait for morning. I barricaded my door with my bed and a few chairs and flicked on the television. Low and behold was a Discovery Channel documentary on the 2002 Bali Bombings. I shouted over to Adam’s room and told him to have a look. The documentary put things in perspective for me, but due to my location and circumstances I must admit that I was a little paranoid.

Terror Cells

News Flash: Two of the Bali Bomber masterminds, Dulmatin and Omar Patek (part of Jemaah Islamiah), were believed to be hiding in the southern Philippine island of Jolo. Dulmatin was a protégé of Azahari Bin Husin –killed in 2005 by Indonesian police, putting the other members of Jemaah Islamiah on the run. Dulmatin was the master bomb technition of the 2002 Bali bombings and has a $10 million US bounty on his head. Dulmatin was also suspected of being responsible for numerous terrorist attacks in the Philippines. At the time we had no idea that the Philippine military and US Special Forces were hunting down Khadaffy Janjalami –leader of Abu Sayyaf. On top of this, the Philippine Abu Sayyaf was believed to be in control of the Indonesian Jemaah Islamiah. In other words the Mindanao province was a sketchy place to be.