Sewerage

Spelling is not my strong point. I would likely do better if words were spelled a bit closer to the way they sound. But the use of silent letters, and sometimes two letters together making the sound that another letter could make on its own (think “tough” versus “tuf” here), can make things get a bit hopeless for me.

When it comes right down to it, I think we throw a lot of unnecessary letters into words. Just right there “unnecessary” has two “n”s and “s”s scrunched together.

Today I’m sharing the photograph of a sign posted on the wall of the bathroom above our toilet here in the Philippines. The phrase “sewerage system” was used rather than “sewage system,” which struck me as odd coming from the U.S.

Thinking we might have some extra stuff at work here, I consulted the interweb.

It turns out that we might learn from those using English as a second or even third language. In proper English, sewage is the somewhat icky to majorly icky stuff we try to send off through the “sewerage” system, which is the actual pipes and whatnots that carry it (the sewage) away.

It is properly a sewerage system.

The Bathroom Notice

—Mitchell Hegman

The Mountaintop Retreat

One of the most beautiful places I have seen in the Philippines is a small retreat owned by one of Desiree’s cousins. The retreat is very literally built on a mountaintop overlooking sugarcane fields and agricultural lands that stretch outward until they meet Bayawan City and the ocean just beyond. I also appreciate how it was constructed using a mix of new and traditional methods, including bamboo wall panels that give the place a natural warmth.

We visited the retreat yesterday evening, just as the light softened all around us.

From the top, even the sound of barking dogs and thundering lorries on the main road below eased into something near a whisper.

I’m sharing a few photographs from that visit.

The Retreat

Climbing to the Top

Desiree and Me at the Overlook Rail

All the World Below

—Mitchell Hegman

Harvesting Coconuts

In the Philippines, a special person is required to harvest coconuts. By special I mean someone with Evel Knievel sensibilities. You know, someone not afraid of riding a motorcycle into the side of a bus at full speed and not afraid of falling from the sky.

Just such a person climbed a tall coconut tree just outside Desiree’s father’s house. Once at the top, he both trimmed fronds and dropped a dozen or so coconuts to the ground.

Here’s the thing, the guy was no spring chicken. I would place him in his mid-forties, but he was wiry and sure of himself. And he climbed to what I would guess was something over 70 feet above the ground to begin whacking away at the fronds and fruit with a long knife. Consider this: he climbed the tree with bare hands and feet. No rope. No safety strap. Just a man and his own skills and confidence.

I’ve posted a photograph I captured of the man as he dropped a coconut to the ground. If you look toward the top center of the photograph, you can see the tall coconut tree he climbed. You should also be able to pick out the man clinging to the tree. Finally, in a patch of blue sky below that, you can see one of the coconuts he dropped.

Coconut Tree Harvest

—Mitchell Hegman

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