After a few days on the beach, I hopped on the back of a motorbike, which took me to a ferry, which took me to a tricycle. I boarded a plane, then a taxi, then a bus. After a few hours of winding up and over the mountains, I reached a small port in the town of Maya, along the Eastern shores of Cebu. Once there, I set sail in a small boat on my way towards the itty-bitty island of Malapascua.
Gliding across the water, watching the outriggers move up and down, I couldn’t stop from smiling; it was happiness in the purest form. As we approached the island and the depths became shallow, a small wooden rowboat came out to fetch myself and a handful of others along for the crossing. I climbed onto the sand, paid my 20 pesos (50 cents), bid them all farewell, and wandered down a path, in search of a place to stay. I soon stumbled upon a small collection of huts nestled among the trees and knew immediately that this is where I wanted to be — and, as luck would have it, I claimed the last one. Once settled, my priorities went something like this: cold beer, food, bug spray (I neglected to pack mine, which hadn’t been an issue until now).
Malapascua is small — very small. There are no paved roads, street signs or stop signs. No grocery stores or mini-marts. It is, essentially, a village. The paths are filled with chickens, roosters, and puppies. Yes, that’s right, I just said puppies. These are not the kind that you find at your local pet store, though. No, these little rascals are already weathered and worn. There will be no bones, Kong’s, squeaky toys, or fluffy beds to curl up on in their future. Just sand, sticks, and whatever they can find in the garbage. Sad, but true.
I have yet to see a car, although there must be a few somewhere. So far, just motorbikes, wagons (think Radio Flyer, only really old, and really rusty), and boats. Lots and lots of boats. Oh, and let’s not forget the spiders. I currently have two woolly-mammoth, tarantula looking critters bunking with me, that I’m trying to avoid at all costs. Killing is out of the question, as that would mean getting too close for comfort. That, and they look as though they’d put up a fight, and most likely win… aaaaand I’ve never been keen on losing, so… they stay.
When I set out in search of dinner, I hadn’t a clue where to go. I walked down one path, then another, then another. I passed small homes and shacks with families gathered inside. Some eating, sleeping, and huddled around small televisions. I eventually found myself seated at a little cafe of sorts. Having just come a long ways, and feeling very much in “vacation mode”, I decided to treat myself to an adult beverage (so much for No Drink January — nice idea, though). After a few chapters, a few bites, and a few sips, something felt off. My motor skills had started to sloooow doooown. I looked at the table, then my hand, and tried to concentrate. Hand, fork, food, mouth. Repeat again: hand, fork, food, mouth. It was as if my body was intoxicated, but my mind was completely clear. I was a bit concerned, but I knew that it could be a number of things and tried not to worry. Dehydration, having little to no food that day, my meds not mixing well with something — the list could go on and on. One thing was certain, though: dinner was over.
I walked down one path, then another, then another, but nothing looked familiar (why would it without any light?). Standing in the dark, in the dirt, completely alone, I accepted the fact that I was indeed lost. Without a flashlight, is all I could make out were outlines, shadows, and the occasional stray animal running up beside me. I thought about turning around, but navigating my way back would be equally challenging. So, I forged ahead in hopes of someone — anyone — popping out of the bushes to save me. Thirty minutes must have passed before seeing a group in the distance. A sweet elderly woman waved for me to follow and within minutes, we arrived at my hut. I thanked her kindly and tried to offer her something to show my appreciation for her time, but she just smiled and walked away.
Another eventful day.
