A Day in the Province

In the U.S., living outside a city is simply called “living in the country,” and extremely remote places are thought of as “the wilderness.” Here in the Philippines, the equivalents would be “living in the province” and “living in the jungle.”

The province is an interesting, if not compelling place. At a minimum, you should expect to be surrounded by someone’s chickens. Several skinny dogs are practically guaranteed, and pigs and goats are never too far away. The whole place also seems to brim with fruit trees of every imaginable variety.

While spending time at Desiree’s family home in the province, we were welcomed by all of the above. I also encountered a few of the requisite gecko lizards inside the house and discovered a pretty good-sized toad in the bathroom.

We are talking about what would have been absolute paradise to me as a kid.

And I like it just fine now. Turns out the kid in me still approves.

Below are a few photographs from a day of province living.

Desiree’s Family Home

Laundry Drying in the Jungle

Owl-Eyed Fish (Lunch)

Desiree Checking on Pigs ended by Her Uncle Carlos

—Mitchell Hegman

Gentle Giants: Reflections

Yesterday’s whale shark adventure was a highly orchestrated event. And of course, whale shark viewing brings with it debate. Marine biologists and conservation groups question whether encounters like those near Oslob change the animals’ natural behavior. Small amounts of food are sometimes used to keep the whale sharks nearby, and critics worry that this conditioning could alter migration patterns or teach the fish to associate boats with an easy meal.

Crowding also raises concerns. On busy mornings, swimmers, snorkelers, and boats share the same patch of water. Even with rules about distance and touching, a whale shark occasionally brushes past a fin or camera. What should be a wild encounter can begin to feel a little staged.

Supporters argue the trade-off may still favor the sharks. In many places these fish were once hunted or caught in nets. Here, they are far more valuable alive. Their presence supports boatmen, guides, and small coastal businesses, giving the community a powerful reason to protect them.

In the end, I think far more good than harm comes from whale shark viewing. The fish are jealously protected as a cash cow, and there can be no doubt that a whole self-sustaining economy has built up and thrives around these whale sharks. That’s good for the Philippines.

Crowded Waters

A Fish Nearby

—Mitchell Hegman

Gentle Giants

 At the southern tip of the island of Cebu, the sea turns a luminous blue and the mornings begin early. Just offshore near Oslob, the ocean hosts some astonishing residents: whale sharks.

The whale shark, or butanding, slips through the water with a grace that belies its size. They can attain a length of up to 40 feet and weigh in at more than 40,000 pounds. They are neither a whale nor a typical shark in the toothy, terror-of-the-deep sense. They are gentle, filter-feeding fish and, in fact, the largest fish in the world. They attain the size of a bus by dining on tiny plankton, as if sipping cosmic dust through a sieve.

Yesterday, we crossed the waters to Cebu by way of an early morning ferry so we could see the whale sharks for ourselves. The sharks are accessed by means of non-powered longboats. The idea is to jump in the water nearby and swim alongside these giant fish. I had every plan to do this, but an ongoing upper respiratory infection kept me firmly in the boat. Fortunately, I gave Desiree’s daughter, Ina, an underwater camera before she slipped into the water.

I am sharing a few of my photos here today, along with one Ina captured as she swam with the gentle giants.

Catching the Early Morning Ferry to Cebu

Waiting for a Non-Motorized Boat

Whale Shark and Swimmers

Underwater

—Mitchell Hegman

The Bricks Hotel

Yesterday we flew to Dumaguete on Negros Island. Desiree’s hometown lies a stretch down the road, but we overnighted in Dumaguete at The Bricks Hotel. Located in the heart of the city along the iconic Rizal Boulevard, the hotel has resurrected itself from its industrial, oceanfront past.

Rather than erase that history, The Bricks leans into it. Roughly poured concrete, exposed metal piping, and aged wood are not concealed but celebrated. What might once have felt utilitarian now feels friendly and warm.

I love the place.

It stands sturdy and clean, modern yet worn into comfort. There is something honest about it, as though the building remembers what it used to be and is content with what it has become.

I have posted a few photographs to give you a feel for the place.

The Bricks Exterior

The Lobby

Our Room

—Mitchell Hegman

Adult Wellness

Doggone it, folks here in the Philippines really care about me and my adulting ways. Just to prove it, they’ve carved out a section in the drug store just for me. It’s stocked with vitamins, herbal supplements, dietary products, and all manner of items devoted to adult health and general wellbeing.

Unfortunately, the section was noticeably short on Scotch and beer, which required a workaround.

The Adult Wellness Section

—Mitchell Hegman

My Food Request

While Desiree has her Jollibee chicken urges to satisfy upon arriving at the islands, I have my own food craving to slake.

My craving is for a bright green, rather branchy-looking seaweed called guso.

I love the stuff.

Along the coasts of the Philippines, guso is an everyday food, sometimes called sea grapes, harvested from shallow coastal waters and sold fresh in local markets. You will usually find it in small, damp bundles, its tiny beadlike clusters still crisp from the sea.

Preparation is simple. Rinse it gently in cool water and serve it raw. Most often it is combined with tomatoes and onions and dressed with vinegar or calamansi limes. The flavor is clean, light, and not particularly salty. The texture offers a light snap when chewed. There is no need to complicate it. Guso is best when handled lightly and eaten fresh, a straightforward reminder that good food does not have to be elaborate to be satisfying.

I also find guso to be gorgeous in appearance. I think a heaping bowl of guso looks like an intricate carving of the finest jade. I am happy just to sit and study it.

Guso

A Heaping Bowl

—Mitchell Hegman

A Snapshot in Time

Some of the most beautiful moments are those that pass quickly and remain uncaptured, existing only in memory. Moments you alone can testify to. I experienced one yesterday as a driver carried us along the ever-bustling, truck-filled highway out of Manila.

At one point, a small paddock appeared beside the road. In it were five or six children and a single horse.

The scene was joyous. They were running and playing together. The horse pranced, tossing its long, flowing mane. The children ran alongside it, smiling and laughing, some with their hands lifted high.

I saw them for only a moment before another row of concrete block and tin-roofed buildings slid into place and the paddock was gone.

But I know what I saw, and that is enough to sustain me for several dry years.

—Mitchell Hegman