Source: The Longest Way Home

http://www.thelongestwayhome.com/blog/page/3/

 

 

Pre Dawn Life in Brooke’s Point Palawan, The Philippines

Posted on May 27, 2009

 

It was 4.40am when my alarm went off. I had no idea when dawn actually broke. I figured 6am. But also didn’t know how to get to the beach for sunrise.

 

“Just go straight down this road, and then left.” The old pension house lady said.

 

Easy to say when it’s not pitch black. I cheated and went back to the market area, hoping to see it being set up. All was silent. Making my way to the beach I realized it was not one of those paradise beaches. Even in the dark my head torch picked up the course sand, rocks, and stilt houses that lined the shore.

 

What’s worse is that it was overcast. I thought all was lost. Especially when I disturbed a sleeping pig near a house.  A deafening sound at that hour. Then as dawn broke and I wandered around the coast I started to notice the dawn life of the locals.

 

 

I wasn’t in a tourist resort, nor tourist destination. So there were no pretenses here. A flood of memories started to come back from other countries.

 

The few that made an impact were in places where it was just locals. And here, this was similar. All along the beach the houses looked as if they had just been ripped apart by a hurricane. Indeed most seemed to be missing a section of wall, or half a rooftop. And here people lived.

 

News channels were still broadcasting the clean up from hurricane Katrina in the USA, yet here I was in a place that was in a permanent state of semi collapse. A local man was sitting out on his balcony, the house next to him looking as if it had just fallen down the night before. He was staring at me with suspicious curiosity as the early sun started to reflect off the shadowed waters. I raised a hand and  waved. His shoulders relaxed back and he returned the wave.

 

I walked closer in an attempt to make something of the lackluster sunrise when his dog went off on barking craze. The man seemed embarrassed and scorned the mange ridden canine as it nipped at my feet. I then remembered hearing amount the amount of untreated rabies infected dogs in the Philippines. And, move on quickly.

 

With the sun now finally breaking loose through the crowds I managed to get a distant glimpse of local fishermen casting out their nets. I imagined in a place like this it was for feeding a family for the day rather than to sell at the market.

 

 

Brooke’s Point’s claim to fame is that the world’s largest pearl was found there “The Pearl of Allah.” It’s worth $40 miliion. Bin Laden is said to have wanted it to unite the Muslim world. Either way it’s now sitting in a safe somewhere, leaving Brookes Point with just the claim to having a great sunrise. And, a history about a legendary seaman named Brooke, who became the Rhaj of Sarawak. But then that’s another story. For the moment though, Brooke’s Point crept into being one of my favorite places.

 

 

Poor, weather beaten, small, and unvisited. Peaceful, beautiful, friendly, curious and a place that pulled at me for some unknown reason. This touch of reality was perhaps what I needed in my own search for home.

 

As dawn became day I headed back to town for breakfast, along the way passing a girl with no more than a coconut shell and sand to play with. Maybe I was seeing my own reflection, maybe that was what was getting to me …

 

 

 

Taking a Gamble in Brooke’s Point, Palawan, The Philippines

Posted on May 22, 2009

 

I wasn’t expecting much from Brooke’s Point. In fact one of the only reasons I was going there was that no one had anything to say about the place. The minivan driver turned out to be a nice guy and drove me straight to a well known hotel in the center of the small town, right opposite the market. Silinan’s Pension was 250 pesos a night with private bathroom.

 

This pretty much again knocked all online forums and locals on the head who said Palawan was incredibly expensive. But, the place was pretty much a dump. Stained mattresses and in need of disinfectant. I had one small tip about another hotel and set off.

 

Along the way I passed through the Market, hoping in kind to get some friendly remarks about a great hotel. Instead for the first time in the Philippines I got the impression I was a rarity. A foreigner walking through their local market doesn’t seem to happen everyday. Manila like heckles of “Guapo come here” and chirpy “Welcome to Jollibee!” were long gone. Replaced instead by polite smiles of curiosity and “Hello’s”  It all seemed so normal.

 

The only other hotel I knew about was closed. In a situation like this I dreaded asking locals as usually they will send me to the nearest expensive hotel. The thing with Brooke’s point is that there are none. I kept asking, and eventually found a road with two pension houses. The first had me as the old lady running Brooke’s Point Pension house was very nice.

 

 

“There’s nothing to see in the town,” she said showing me to my pristine room. “But it’s fiesta time, so you might like that.”

 

The house was an old pre war building and was covered in rich dark wood and was as clean and well run as you could get. The cost, 350 pesos. This was the type of place I could stay a while. You just get that feeling.

 

Night was approaching so I set off for the fiesta in the center of town. In the Philippines it seems there is a fiesta every other day somewhere on the Islands. Here it was more a collection of food stalls around the center square. Nothing too exciting either. Chicken gizzard, chicken feet, and … more gizzard.

 

 

Then I saw it, fresh home made pizza slices. And honestly saying .. it was better than Pizza Hut. What’s more right beside me was a row of brightly painted wooden framed stalls. All running simple childrens games like, throwing hoops, darts, and the odd gambling game.

 

I drew a crowd of bright smiling kids as I approached the Dice Game. The object - place your pesos on the colored square and if the dice match your color, you win. I couldn’t quite understand the logistics of how much everything was worth. But within 5 minutes I was up 10 pesos and the kids were finding it amazing. Then within 10 minutes I was out 15 pesos, and their faces were beaming even brighter. I  took my loses and moved on before I was removed of anymore coins.

 

 

Behind the square I took in a small school concert before heading back to the pension house. I was planning an early rise the next day to see the fabled Sunrise, camera charged I was looking forward to something special over the South China Sea.

 

I liked Brooke’s Point, it wasn’t jumping out at me as great. But with Lu gone I was alone and trying to get a feel for the Philippines as a lone traveler. The idea place to live? No. An ideal place to sit and write a book … maybe.

 

Lone Filipina Girl Playing a Xylophone - video

Posted on June 1, 2009

 

Early morning in Brooke’s Point is a quite time. Life starts the same as it does in the rest of the country, as dawn appears. But, it seems that bit slower here, than in the rest of the Philippines.

 

People don’t rush. There’s not much happening; so I guess there’s no point in rushing. As I once again tried to capture dawn in this old town I heard a sound that isn’t too common in my travels. The delicate lone metallic taping of a Xylophone. Rounding a corner I saw a lone Filipina girl sitting by the roadside playing just such an instrument.

 

(Video link for feed and email subscribers)

 

The video starts a little shaky as I didn’t want to disturb her, so I was  recording from quite far away. Lot’s of Filipinos will get embarrassed and disappear off if you try to take candid photo’s or the like. I learned to just act as though nothing was special and try to walk by.

 

Dawn can bring about many special things in the Philippines. It’s one of the best times to see real life. The heat of the sun is still at bay,  the people are somehow more Filipino then. At least both I and they are not feeling so weary from the heat at that time. When searching for a place to live it’s important to experience a country, and a place at all time’s of the day or night. Each one bringing a different meaning and feeling. Different sights, smells, sounds and a very different environment to the rest of the day.

 

I know somewhere, someplace there’s a hostel packed with people out to see the world. But at the same time are nursing hangovers, clutching “the what to do today” section of their guidebooks and wondering where they can get a “proper breakfast“. And all that is fine - for them.

 

It’s not what I am out there doing. I don’t pretend to be an expert at what I am doing. If I was I would have found home a long time ago. But, one gentle side effect of my journey that I do appreciate is seeing local life as it really is. Not one person in Brooke’s Point has stuck their hand out asking for money, no one has given me that annoying V sign in photographs. And people really do seem to be more ‘untouched‘  here if that word can be understood without scrutiny.

 

It’s one of those things that has me shivering at the thought of going to anywhere else in South East Asia. Tourism enmasse. I may have to reconsider. Or maybe I’ve spent to much time sitting and writing in an old house in Brooke’s Point?! Time to move, I think.