Saturday September 13, 2014
7:20 a.m. San Juan, Siquijor
Room 2 Casa Miranda

A pleasant day yesterday. The weather broke grey and overcast, so I put on hold any plans for long bike trips around the island or snorkeling trips to nearby spots. Instead, I hopped on the bike and rode into nearby San Juan simply to poke around and see where I ended up. There were roads leading inland into the interior of the island. I could explore those to a certain extent. There was the public market to check out. I thought that perhaps I would see bottles of sea urchin flesh for sale or milk fish for sale and I could find out more about them. There was also a firefly sanctuary. I’ve learned that the original Spanish name for Siquijor was “Isla de Fuego” (Island of Fire), so-named for the swarms of fireflies that lit up the branches of the molave trees. (This info comes from a detailed tourist map that I was lucky enough to pick up.)

After the market, I went to the firefly sanctuary, but it turned out to be more of a guesthouse than a nature preserve. Plus, they were charging a 100-peso entrance fee. Since it was daytime, there was little point paying that fee just to see some trees. Nighttime would be the time to visit.

I was in the mood for company, and after the firefly sanctuary, I rode my bike to Tori’s Backpacker’s Paradise to see if Thomas was there. I found him sitting in a chair in his bar slash restaurant. He invited me up and I had a cold beer while chatting with him. I told him about the robbery and we exchanged stories about all the crazy things that keep happening to us in the Philippines. It’s an unfortunate pattern that two foreigners can’t help but start talking about all the inefficiency and craziness in the country they’re visiting. I try not to do that, but it is difficult to stop when the only things that happen to you are crazy and inefficient things. What else is there to talk about? And since Thomas was running a business on Siquijor, he has ten thousand times more chances to encounter problems than I do as just a visitor. Even good things come with bad stories. It was from Thomas, for example, that I got this wonderful tourist map of Siquijor. That’s the good thing – such a wonderful map exists, they are free, and Thomas had a selection to give to his guests and customers. The bad thing is that Thomas had been trying for eight months to get these maps. It took the local tourism office that long to get them, and even then it only happened because Thomas constantly pushed them and followed up on his request countless times. He had similar and much worse stories for every single aspect of his new business.

Thomas had errands to run, and he left on his motorcycle after a while. I stayed to finish my beer and I had the chance to talk with his wife. She hadn’t been introduced to me as his wife or as anyone else, but it was a safe assumption on my part that the two of them were married and running the business together. She was a Filipina, and she was the nicest, most intelligent, friendliest, and loveliest woman you can imagine. It was a great pleasure to have the chance to talk to her. I told some of my stories, including my experiences with super typhoon Yolanda. I don’t seem to be even close to getting that experience out of my system. She told me a bit more about herself and her life with Thomas. She was from Cagayan de Oro on Mindanao, and she and Thomas had originally had an Internet café business there. With the explosion of smart phone usage in the Philippines and the increase in Internet access for everyone, the Internet café business was dropping off, and they decided to try their hand at running a beach resort. One of the bigger challenges of running a resort appeared to be hiring and keeping staff. While I was talking to her, she was busy making a cardboard “Help Wanted” sign and covering it in packing tape to protect it from the rain. The first sign she made had been washed away in the wind and rain, and she wanted this one to last longer. There were lots of reasons that it was difficult to hire staff. There didn’t seem to be that many people around to begin with. Siquijor is a small island and small province and the town of San Juan is one of the smallest towns here. There just isn’t a big pool of people to hire from. Of course, they can’t pay a huge salary (I didn’t ask what the terms of the jobs were), and young people generally were more interested in going to big cities like Dumaguete, Cebu, and Manila to find work. They’d grown up on Siquijor and wanted a taste of a new and more exciting life. I guess this trouble with staff is a bit of a Catch-22 for the resort business. Siquijor is attractive to visitors precisely because it is remote and undeveloped and underpopulated and quiet. But for those same reasons, there are few people that they can hire. Still, I found it a bit of a head-scratcher. The number one story I hear from everyone in the Philippines is the lack of jobs. But then when you speak to business owners, their main problem is finding people to give jobs to. It seems like a match made in heaven – jobs for people looking for jobs – but it doesn’t work out that way. I suppose the statements I made need to be modified: People in the Philippines complain about the lack of interesting jobs with good salaries. I met that young fellow the other day who told me that there were no jobs and that everyone just sat around all the time. But I can’t imagine him being happy cleaning rooms at a beach resort and making perhaps 200 pesos a day. But it must all work out in the end. Siquijor has dozens and dozens of beach resorts and other businesses catering to visitors. They generally have staff doing all kinds of things, so people do take these jobs. I imagine the turnover is quite high, but that’s a problem with low-paying jobs.

I should mention (just because it was such a highlight for me) that there were two tiny, tiny cute-as-buttons kittens at Tori’s. I assumed there was a mother cat around, but Thomas told me that they’d gotten one from the market and the other one just showed up one day. This one had a bad eye infection and was quite sickly, and it followed some guests back to the resort or the guests took it back with them. I’m not exactly sure. Thomas and his wife nursed the kitten as best they could and gave it a course of anti-biotics to clear up the eye infection. This kitten was dubbed “Duckling” because it had a strange warbling sort of meow that sounded more like a quack than anything else. I think poor Duckling still had a lung and throat infection of some sort, and this had affected its vocal cords. Duckling gave a lot of weak little coughs while I played with him and Isis, and despite all his energy, he didn’t seem that strong. I hoped he would get better, but I wouldn’t be surprised if he didn’t make it through to good health. It was great fun to play with the kittens. They were both playful and would turn on their powerful purring engines when I picked them up and held them.

After the question of hiring staff, I was thinking that the most difficult problem facing a resort was simply getting guests to stay there. I was very curious about how that worked and what Thomas and his wife did to attract tourists and backpackers. The short answer appeared to be that they simply relied on the Internet, word of mouth, and chance visitors. The Internet was the most important, and their resort was listed on all the most important sites. I met a man from France later that day (more about him soon), and he said that he knew all about Tori’s because it came up as the first result when he googled accommodation on Siquiujor. I couldn’t help but start thinking about all the things you could do to attract guests and improve services. I just love to organize things, and a business like a beach resort offers no end of opportunities for that. Of course, coming up with ideas is one thing. Putting those ideas into practice is quite another. Personally, despite my deep fascination with organizing, I couldn’t imagine running a beach resort. I told Thomas a few times that I had a lot of respect for him for doing it. To me, the challenges seemed not just daunting but totally overwhelming. Imagine it. A beach resort is a whole range of services in one package. It’s a hotel. It’s a bar. It’s a restaurant. It’s a tourist information center. It has employees (meaning there is paperwork and tax forms, etc.). Just one of those things is a full-time job. Running all of them on top of doing all the construction and maintenance and improving the facilities must be very difficult. It would be fun, of course, and satisfying, but also very, very time-consuming.

My next encounter of the day was with a very nice and very friendly cyclist from Spain. I was riding through San Juan just looking around when I noticed a man looking intently at me and my bicycle. I’ve learned to recognize that stare. Only another cyclist would ever stare so intently at a bicycle. I pulled up beside him and I wasn’t surprised to learn that he, too, was on a bike trip with the full touring bike and pannier bag set-up. His name was Carlos, and he was taking a couple of months to study English on Siquijor with some Filipino teachers. He felt he needed to improve his English for his travels. We bonded over bike touring, but even more so when I learned that he planned to go to Taiwan soon for a month or two of cycling there. He only had a short time to talk as he had to have lunch and then get back to his English class at one o’clock, but we arranged to meet up again at Casa Miranda. He had rented a room with a local family in San Juan, but he was thinking of finding a new room near Casa Miranda. He liked his current room and the family, but the area was a bit noisy for his liking. I was extremely curious to see his bicycle and travel set-up. I didn’t get a chance to really go over it, but I did see his bicycle briefly.

Then, to my surprise, when I got back to Casa Miranda, I ran into another cyclist. This was Frederick (or just “Fred”), a very impressive cyclist. Fred was from France and was in his late forties or early fifties (I’m guessing). He had ridden all the way from France to get here (with an occasional flight when he ran up against an insurmountable visa or border problem). Fred was originally going to stay at Casa Miranda, but the cheapest rooms were all occupied, and he took a room at a different place up the road. He suggested that we get together later on for dinner or for a drink, and we made rough arrangements. It’s crazy that I go forever without ever seeing other foreigners let alone cyclists and now I run into two cyclists in one day.

Fred was very interesting to me as a cyclist because he was such a contrast. I’m probably more interested in fiddling with bike gear and camping gear and travel gear than I am in the actual biking, camping, and traveling. Fred, on the other hand was all about the biking. The gear could take care of itself. I was absolutely delighted with his bike and his gear and I went over it with a fine-tooth comb. Fred must have concluded that I was a bit of a crazy person.

His bike was very unusual to me. I’d never heard of the brand. It was French, I think, and called Riverwind. It had 28-inch wheels, suspension front forks, and hydraulic brakes. It also looked like it had gone through hell. He said it was the first bike he had ever owned, and he bought it for a trip a few years ago. This was his second trip on the bike and he had come something like 20,000 kilometers on it. I’m not sure how many problems there were, but there seemed to be a lot of them. He talked about hydraulic fluid leaking everywhere. And there was some kind of lever on his handlebars that was used to add pressure to the fluid in his front suspension forks. But that lever was totally jammed. I could barely even see his derailleur and rear sprockets and chain for all the grease that was caked onto them. I even had the idea that he was using a heavy-duty extra large chain. But he said it was an ordinary chain. I guess it was the thick layers of grease that made me think it was bigger.

He had a pair of Vaude front panniers. Vaude panniers are similar to Ortlieb panniers in that they are single compartment 100% waterproof bags with a roll-top closure system. I wasn’t surprised to see that one of the hook systems on one of the bags had torn right out and he could no longer attach the bag to the pannier rack. He had to use a complicated system of bungee cords and rope and who-knows-what to hold the pannier bag in place. I was amazed that he hadn’t replaced the bag, but he said he was reluctant to do so because it would mean having to replace the pair. You can’t buy just one pannier bag. To me, it’s a no-brainer. I couldn’t last a week with a broken pannier bag like that. He himself said that it was a huge pain to have to spend all that time strapping the pannier bag on with bungee cords etc every single time. I would understand if he was an extremely poor traveler, but a big part of his journey was looking for a place where he could invest in a beach resort of his own. If he had enough money to buy a beach resort, he surely had a couple hundred dollars to buy new pannier bags. But he was very careful with his money – and I admired that. He clearly looked always for the cheapest accommodation available and he used his gear until it fell completely apart.

So much for his front pannier bags. His rear pannier bags were equally unusual. They were clearly a very inexpensive brand. The material seemed to be a type of canvas, and they were more like saddle bags with a third bag – a knapsack – that strapped between them and sat on top of the pannier rack. The knapsack addition was a convenient and interesting addition, but I don’t know how useful it would turn out to be in practice. I noticed that a large number of the zippers on the bags were broken and the pockets couldn’t close anymore. Fred told me that these rear bags came with waterproof covers, but while in Myanmar, he had gone on a trip with just his front pannier bags. He put them on the rear rack, and he put the waterproof covers from the rear panniers on them. But they were much bigger, and with a strong headwind, the covers ballooned up and at some point they ripped right off and blew away. He didn’t notice that they were gone until much later, and it was impossible to go back and look for them. So now he had these canvas bags with broken zippers on the rear of his bike with no way to waterproof them. Yet, he’s cycling through the rainy season. That would drive me insane, of course, but he just somehow keeps going. I admire that.

He had a fairly light load on his bike, and he didn’t carry much in the way of camping equipment. He said that he had a hammock with an integrated mosquito net. I’m always amazed at people who talk about using hammocks. I can swing in a hammock on the beach and read a book, but even then I’m extremely uncomfortable and can’t last long. I find hammocks to be torture devices. They seem like a great idea, but they are so uncomfortable and impossible to even get in or out of. To think of routinely spending the night in a hammock is astonishing. I wouldn’t be able to sleep in a million years. I’m jealous of Fred. For me to be able to camp out and sleep, I need a three-person four-season extra-large super expensive tent, a full-size thick Thermarest, a sleeping sheet, and a sleeping bag. He just strings up a hammock and goes to sleep.

There is a price for everything of course, and Fred ended up paying the price for this hammock when he crossed into Uzbekistan. He told me and Carlos this story over beer last evening. I haven’t mentioned yet that Fred also had a handlebar bag on his bike. He kept all of his valuables – camera, passport, money, bank cards, ID, glasses – in that handlebar bag. When he crossed into Uzbekistan, he strung up his hammock between two trees and then went to sleep with his handlebar bag inside the hammock with him. During the night, someone cut through the mosquito net and stole his handlebar bag. Fred slept through the theft and didn’t notice until the next morning. He woke up to find everything gone. My jaw mentally dropped when he told that story. I couldn’t imagine it. I nearly ended up in the hospital with a stress-induced heart attack when someone stole 2,000 pesos from me. He lost EVERYTHING. And in Uzbekistan!

The story was a very long one and was similar to mine in that the local police were extremely helpful. He contacted the local police. They could not speak English, so they had to use Google Translate on a computer to communicate (very poorly). The police mobilized everyone they could, and in a relatively short time, they actually found the thief. I think Fred said that the thief was 400 miles away by then, but they caught him. I’ll have to ask him exactly how that happened. Unfortunately (or fortunately depending on how you look at it), the thief only wanted the money. He said he was really drunk and he just took the money and then threw the handlebar bag out of the window of his car. It was nighttime, and he had no idea where the bag was. I don’t know how this all worked out, but Fred was asked to write down the value of everything that was in the handlebar bag and this thief and his family was required to pay him the equivalent. Fred didn’t get all the money, but he got enough that he was able to replace much of his gear. It blows my mind, but he was able to go on a shopping spree in a city in Uzbekistan and buy a new handlebar bag, a new Panasonic Lumix camera, a new wireless bicycle computer with altimeter and compass and barometer and all that stuff, and other things. He was able to contact the French consulate, and the consul himself drove hundreds of miles to meet up with Fred and help him and issue him an emergency replacement passport. Fred had no money at all during this time, and the police put him up in a hotel for free. And Fred’s bank in Paris issued him a new bank card and this was sent on to him in Uzbekistan. Absolutely astonishing. I’m pretty sure that were I in his shoes, none of these things would have happened. I’d have lost everything and gotten nothing back and no reimbursement. And can you imagine the Canadian consul coming personally to help? Not likely.

Fred’s story goes on and on. I noticed that there was a blank spot on the handlebars of his bike where a bicycle computer would normally be. He said that it was just stolen on a ferry here in the Philippines. So he had this brand new state-of-the-art wireless system, and some thief cut it off the handlebars and stole it. Of course, the thief had no idea what it was. He took the computer unit itself, but he left the wireless transmitter and battery unit on the front fork. He wouldn’t have known that they were connected or even how it worked. I can say that because nearly everyone in the Philippines that looks at the bicycle computer on my bike assumes it is just a watch. They don’t know that it has other functions.

I’m hoping to have the chance to talk with Fred some more. If it doesn’t creep him out, I’d love to have him walk me through the rest of his gear – the stuff inside his pannier bags. I’m curious what type of gear he has. He certainly has an admirable approach. It comes from different interests, of course. He has only the small Panasonic pocket camera, and he is happy with that. I devoted an entire pannier bag to nothing but camera gear. And then I ALSO have a small pocket camera.

I heard yesterday that there is a typhoon system off the coast of Luzon. That might explain the weather change. I woke up this morning to high winds and steady rain. The rain has tapered off a bit, but it is still totally overcast. It remains to be seen how I spend the day.

12 Noon

It remains to be seen how I spend the rest of my day. I rode into San Juan and found a very good place to have a meal. I’d already had coffee and buns in my room, but I needed a good stuffing of rice and other Filipino goodies. Having been charged the “foreigner price” at the eatery in Siquijor town, I was a bit reluctant to check out the eateries here in San Juan. However, I found a place near the public market that looked very good. I took a chance and ordered a few items without asking for the price beforehand, and I ended up with a solid and tasty meal for 51 pesos – the normal price, and a good one. For that, I got a large helping of rice, a serving of some kind of mixed vegetables and diced pork in a sauce, two boiled eggs in a tasty sauce, two bananas, and all the chilled purified water I desired. A perfect meal. I imagine I will go back to that place again during the rest of my stay. The only downside was the number of flies. That was unusual. I generally don’t see flies in eateries here. I guess they were there in such numbers because of the proximity of the open market.

I ran into Frederick briefly on the road before I went in to San Juan. He was on his way into town, and I kept pace with him for a while on my bicycle. Not surprisingly, I found his pace far too fast. I go at a leisurely pace most of the time. I’m not in a hurry to get anywhere, and I don’t generally apply a lot of force with my legs. Fred mentioned that there was talk of a typhoon heading toward Siquijor. That wouldn’t surprise me, since the weather feels very “typhoony”. If there had to be a typhoon, then this isn’t bad timing. I was worried that a typhoon’s arrival would coincide with my departure for Cebu and my flight to Kuala Lumpur. That could have been trouble. Boats could be cancelled and all of that. I imagine I will err on the side of caution and leave for Cebu a tad earlier than I need to. I dislike cutting things close. In any case, I have to reserve a day for a visit to the immigration office to get my exit papers.

I asked around while in San Juan, but no one had heard anything about a typhoon. I still haven’t managed to confirm or dismiss this news. There is one Internet café in San Juan, but I was in no mood to brave the place. I glanced in through the doors, and it looked like every computer was occupied by the usual idiotic, moronic, noisy, and rude gamers.

I stopped at a store and a bakery to pick up more spaghetti fixings and some buns. I also dropped by a pharmacy. Not surprisingly, I find I’m dealing with a bunch of infected bites all over my body. This happens to me all the time in the Philippines. At other times, the medical people I dealt with said that a type of coral gets into open wounds and starts to grow. And that’s what causes this infection. I don’t know for sure if that is true. But something happens each time, and it always starts with a yellowish pus oozing out of the bites. Left untreated, these wounds simply grow in size and the infection gets worse and worse. Once they start, they simply will not heal by themselves. I’m not sure what the appropriate treatment is. The women at the pharmacy were, not surprisingly, of little help. It took all of their mental powers just to summon a price for the various lotions and ointments I pointed out. The problem is that a true antibiotic cream or ointment can cost as much as 600 pesos for a tiny tube. Yet, there are tons of other products that call themselves anti-bacterial, and they cost as little as 22 pesos. I went with the cheap stuff for now and I’ll see what effect it has.

I turned down one of the small roads heading into the interior and rode down it for five or six kilometers. It was pleasant and I saw lots of rural settlements and isolated houses. People were astonished to see me, and I was kept busy returning their greetings. After some time, it became clear that the setting was not going to change very much and the road would simply cut across the island and emerge back on the main road near Siquijor. So I turned back and then rode back to San Juan. I did some more cycling around some backroads there and checked out the church and other sights.

Back at Casa Miranda, I went over my bike with a brush and a rag to clean it and dry it. Then I applied some lubricant to the chain and other parts. I’ve had too many experiences of neglecting the bike and then being surprised with a rusty chain. I’m trying to stay on top of maintenance now and be proactive. It only takes a few minutes. I even bought a miniature chain scrubber and some degreaser while I was in Cebu. It does a wonderful job cleaning the chain.

A few other random thoughts on my mind. One is that there is a large crab living under a chunk of pavement right beside the front wheel of my bike where I park it and lock it up. I saw this crab in the dark last night and it gave me quite a start.

My Canon point-and-shoot camera is slowly dying. I’ve had lots of trouble with it ever since I arrived in the Philippines. Little cameras like that are simply not up to the task of dealing with this heat and humidity. At the beginning, I kept it on my belt in its little pouch. Unfortunately, I sweat so badly that the pouch itself became soaking wet and the camera was marinating in my bodily juices all day. I think that was what really caused the damage. At the moment, it refuses to focus whenever I zoom in with the lens. It will only focus if I leave the lens at its widest focal length. If I change it at all, it won’t focus. I think cameras like this one – ones where the lens zooms in and out of the camera body when you turn it on – are simply not durable enough for any kind of travel. Better to have a boxy compact with a fixed lens. Less moving parts. Those telescoping lens assemblies are extremely delicate.

I also have been thinking about the Filipino passion for slogans. I see so many slogans that the country sometimes feels like it is undergoing or has undergone a kind of socialist grassroots revolution. My Negative Nelly side reflects on the stark contrast between the values in these slogans and the actual behavior of most people. It’s like people feel it is enough to put up a large banner declaring some virtue and then there is no need to adopt that virtue.

I came across the most extreme example of this on a CEBECO company poster in Oslob. This poster was attached to a calendar that the company gave away to its customers as an advertisement. On the poster was a list of the company’s slogans, credos, and other things. I wish I were joking about this or exaggerating, but the following list is a word-for-word copy of what was on this single poster. (I particularly like the references to the corporate data bank and the list of heroes at the end.)

Divine Mandate:
Thou shalt love your fellowmen by the power of your brain, the strength of your will, and the sweat of your hands.

Excellent Services

The Corporate Mountain of Excellence

Barko CEBECO
Lead, Manage, Culturize
Battles fought and won against tidal waves of challenges.

Stand on the mountain top. View, reflect, strive to possess the following:
– Clear perspective of your life
– – Deeper insights of your chosen role
– – Fuller grasps of human relationships
– – Humbler acknowledgement of weaknesses
– – Stronger resolve to improve self
– – Firmer adoption of principles
– – The sacred vow to walk with God
Advocacy Dream
The dream is a conscienticized response to the Biblical call to take care of the least of our brethren.
The resolute response is exemplified by the love of Pope Francis for the poor.
Every human being created according to the image of God is our brother/sister.
Millions of Filipinos are starving, in rags, and homeless.
The fortunate among us must feel personally obligated to help the unfortunate poor.
Blessed are the warriors who fight to liberate the poor from misery.
Let this advocacy dream be a major part of our corporate social responsibility.

Person for others:
Share oneself
Resolve conflicts
Show loyalty
Learn to listen
Walk extra mile
Treasure friends

FGS: Make your people happy.

The Corporate Eagle:
Flies on the wing of planning, organizing, leading, controlling, guided by the radar from within the corporate data bank, to achieve for itself its vision/mission.

Imperatives:
– Adopt as core compass in life’s journey the dictatorship of principles.
– – Dare, by force of will, to make the seemingly impossible, possible.
– – Become a happy warrior in the war of liberation of millions of Filipinos from the slavery of poverty.
Nothing happens by accident.

Join we must in the long march for progress across our beloved land.

Best Practices:
– Human capital valued high
– – Personal potentials maximized
– – Basic yearnings addressed
– – Values practiced as rules
– – Frequent group dynamics
– – Hi-tech systems, tools, equipment
– – Corporate data bank computerized
7 Values:
– Discipline
– – Hard work
– – Honesty
– – Thrift
– – Teamwork
– – Generosity
– – Loyalty
5 Yearnings:
– Life
– – Love
– – Freedom
– – Responsibility
– – Solidarity
Writings: Dynamic Initiatives

The Associate:
– Invest self
– – Investment grows
– – Business partner
– – Earn respect
– – Share profits
The Contract:
– Just/Fair
– – Live/Dynamic
– – Mutually happy
– – Trust/Goodwill Complied
Alignments:
– God
– – Family
– – Co-Workers
– – GM and Staff
– – Board
– CEBECO:
– – Connect
– – Energeize
– – Build
– – Empower
– – Convert
– – Optimize
Know yourself
Respect yoyr own dignity
Increase your work value
Treat everybody well
Make friends, not enemies
Treasure family members

Protect your health
Get excited by problems
Build a fighting spirit
Rise when you stumble
Never tell a lie
Consult your elders

Decisions:
Principled
Well-studied
Results evaluated
Application flexible
If wrong, admit

Corpus as Corporation
Brain Mouth
Heart Hands
Eyes Feet
Ears Stomach
Nose Blood

Leaders:
Pope Francis
Lee Kuan Yew
Winston Churchill
King of Bhutan
John F Kennedy
Mikhail Gorbachev
Mahatma Gandhi
Pedro G. Dumol
Mao Tse-Tung
Ho Chi Minh
Margaret Thatcher
Nelson Mandela

Dramatic progress across CEBECO land

Me again: I can’t imagine working for that company and having to live up to all of those slogans and maxims.

Tags: bike touring, pannier bags, Philippines Bike Trip 2013, San Juan, Siquijor