Weekend Fun

The plan for last weekend was to go dolphin and whale spotting at a location off the island of Bohol but a typhoon earlier this week put paid to that idea. It wasn't a severe typhoon, just a Category 1 but Ken, my driver, advised that the local "pump" boats (called pump because the motors supposedly came from a water pump) become somewhat unstable in rough seas. It may have been a wise decision as in the papers following the typhoon there was a report of one sinking between Cebu and Bohol resulting in 15 people drowning. The Philippines seems to have a notoriety for their sinking boats and ferries.

With hindsight we could have possibly still gone as the weather was calm again by the weekend. Nevertheless, we're planning to go in a few weeks from now. The problem with that is it's now the end of the whale and dolphin spotting season so the chances of seeing anything are rapidly diminishing.

As an alternative we drove south about 2 and a half hours to a place call Kawasan Water Falls and to visit the beaches at Moalboal.

The journey itself was scenic and enjoyable and the falls were pleasant enough. A dip in the pool at the base of the falls gave a refreshing, if not chilly respite from the midday the heat. We had lunch in the open air restaurant besides the plunge pool and my guess is that we were somewhat ripped off, being charged an extra Php300 for having a table in a premium location, which was not something we were warned about prior to being seated. We had roasted local chicken - local

meaning extremely thin. The drumsticks were more like chopsticks. We also had fried rice that was rather bland and oily french fries all washed down with a San Miguel Light.

In support of the local economy we bought a souvenir tee -shirt and some wild honey from two vendors selling it from plastic buckets containing big chunks of the honey comb. The guy was able to fill an old empty rum bottle by scooping the honey out of the bucket and pouring it through the narrow opening of the the bottle without dribbling a single drop of honey down the outside of the bottle, which I found pretty deft and amazing.

The beach at Moalboal is located on a spit of land outside the town, with the town itself being a bustling, busy street which seems to have managed to retain its local charm, although I would imagine this will change in the not too distant future as and when the big resorts become established there, or when the access to the location is improved.

Moalboal Beach

After paying Php10 per person the access the beach, we then had to pay Php10 per person to access the beach. Yes, we had to pay twice. The second time I believe we were being ripped off (again) by some dodgy locals who had decided to indulge in some free enterprise in exploiting the tourists. The beach was white sand and surprising clean. Most of the people using the beach were locals, which again reflects the difficulty in accessing the place. I had a swim and snorkel in the sea and there was a surprising amount of coral close in shore. I say surprising because the area has a bad reputation for the coral being damaged by dynamite fishing, which seems to be supported by the number of limbless locals you see.

After a couple more beers at a beach bar it was time to head back before darkness set in.

Completed Slipform

With regard to work, the slipform construction of the chimney was completed last week so now we are the builders of the tallest structure in Toledo at 97m (318' 3") and which will be the full 100m once the flues have been added.

Everyone & Their Mum Is Packing

Another thing that immediately strikes you about the Philippines is the security: it's everywhere. From the minute you arrive at the airport through to day-to-day activities, everything is dominated by the presence of security. It feels more like downtown Baghdad. The hotels, shopping centres and other public buildings have airport style scanners. Some have sniffer dogs. Bags are routinely checked. All shops have security guards. Our site has 24 hour security guards. All are armed with hand guns. Others have short-stock pump action shotguns.

I'm not entirely sure what the perceived or actual threat is. I know that there is trouble in the south of the country, where Muslim rebels are demanding their own independent homeland but I thought this was confined to the occasional kidnapping. When I was in Manila a couple of years ago I was told that it was largely a scam by the owners of the security companies, who tend to be ex-military or police personnel that create a threat atmosphere to ensure that their businesses stay busy. If at anytime the need for quite so much security falls off then they generate a scare to ensure their order books stay full.

It certainly is big business and the only real benefit I can see from it is that it keeps a large number of people in employment. On the downside, it doesn't actually make you feel safer. If anything, the complete opposite and surely scares off potential visitors and outside business and investment?

Clearly a contributing problem to this is the ease and widespread availability of guns. Just about everyone owns one. Only last week it was reported in the press that there was a shoot-out at a fiesta where four people were shot dead. The wild west (east) indeed.

Site Security

This week we (myself and a colleague) had to go to Manila for an interview with an immigration officer as part of my application for a work permit. I sounds as though I've done something wrong but I haven't, it's just one of many hoops to jump through and like most things in the Philippines, a pile of red tape has to be contended with that can only be visualised as looking like a huge plate of tangled spaghetti.

I’m told that the interview process is a relatively new requirement, although leading up to and even following the actual interview I couldn't fathom what it was meant to achieve.

The day started at 4:00am in order to catch the early flight to Manila from Cebu. Fortunately, the immigration office is quite close to the airport so we were spared the nightmare of the Manila traffic, although our taxi still managed to get lost.

The immigration office is located in a fairly nondescript office block but inside was a bit of a surprise in how basic it was. Outside there was the obligatory armed security guard, although I couldn't imagine what he was guarding. Inside, the reception area consisted of yet another armed guard and half a dozen rows of those school type chair/desk combos, with the desk mounted on one side of the chair. However, these were made of plastic, like cheap patio chairs from B&Q and judging by the size of them taken from the local primary school so they were a real squeeze to fit into, especially for my European bulk.

On the wall in big red letters is a sign that reads "SILENCE PLEASE". However, in the corner was a TV at full volume blaring out a song by a Filipino Bob Marley wannabe.

The company lawyer who is assisting with the work permit application arrived and she had even more of a problem squeezing into the school chair - there is no dignified way of getting in an out of one. We were briefed on what questions we were likely to be asked and what our answers should be. I personally couldn't see what the problem was so long as we were to tell the truth.

As expected the 10:00am appointment didn't take place until 10:30am and we were led into a plywood office where there was a small chap with a Fisher-Price hair cut sitting behind a large desk. I say sitting, but he was virtually horizontal due in no small part to what appeared to be a beach ball he was concealing up his shirt. It was easily the roundest belly I'd ever seen.

The interview was really odd. I expected it to be an interrogation into why, as foreigners, it was necessary for us to work in the Philippines and what specialist skills or expertise we had or were bringing to the country. What we were asked is whether there were any Filipinos who could do our job an if not, why not? It's a really difficult question to answer without appearing condescending or belittling and it seemed as though at times we were being manoeuvred or provoked into making disparaging remarks.

In addition, we were asked if we took an interest in politics in the Philippines, which with hindsight I think was a really loaded question and any response in the affirmative would have meant having our applications rejected. This I responded to by saying that I didn't even understand politics in the UK so wouldn't even begin to try to get involved or understand politics in the Philippines. This seemed to the right thing to say.

Lastly, with a gentle leer over over the hidden beach ball, the suggestion was made that we were there for the girls. What me? A sex tourist? Hardly.

With an element of good humour and a friendly smile we seemed to pass the interview without a hitch and so within a few weeks should be able to obtain our work permits.

Toledo City

Bad to Worse

I've now moved into my new lodgings and without doubt it has made a big difference being somewhere where I don't have to wet nurse everyone else. It's relatively peaceful, without barking dogs or loud karaoke music blaring out all night or even first thing in the morning. There are the ubiquitous cockerels that start crowing at around an hour before sun-rise (4:30am) but they seem distant enough not to disturb my slumber.

Whilst on the subject of chickens, spit roasted "chooks" seem to be a firm favourite here. All throughout the town there are racks of spinning chickens being roasted over charcoal grills. I've taken to eating these on the odd occasion but with some reservations and apprehension. This stems back to the time when I was working in Iraq and the consumption of "chickens on the side of the road" led to a bought of chronic diarrhea. If that wasn't bad enough, working in flat, featureless desert left very little scope for concealing yourself for a poo when caught short and there simply wasn't time to make for the horizon.

Cock fighting (or is it fighting cocks - either way you say it, it sounds perverse) seems to be one of the favourite pastimes here. That and basketball. Just about every one (male) has a fighting cock that they sit around admiring and preening all day long. I've yet to see a cock fight and I was wondering what happens to all the losers? Perhaps they end up being spit-roasted - that would explain why the ones you buy off the side of the road are so scrawny and tough. At this point they cease to be cocks and are chickens or chooks. Either way, I don't want to be accused of eating cocks.

The house, or resort, where I'm living has its own pool and a small but functional gym. I say functional but I haven't actually used it yet. This should be an ideal time to get my lardy arse in shape but until now I've been working quite late, and usually end up going for out dinner and a couple of beers straight after work, which simply puts paid to any notion of energetic exercise. If I'm to climb the volcano on the neighbouring island of Negros, I had better start working out soon.

Gardens, pool and gym at the new lodgings

Another thing that I've noticed here is all receipts are hand written. I didn't think that this would be such an issue but when you're in a hurry, having to wait for a receipt to be written out seems to take an age. I'm not just talking about the occasional receipt, the company has a fair amount of purchasing to do. The commercial suppliers and wholesalers are the worst: first comes the bill of sale with a hand written description of each article, followed by a receipt. It takes forever.

I think I'm a bit culture shocked because all the little things are starting to irritate me. For example, my driver has one CD that he plays ALL the time and I didn't like it the first time and it definitely isn't the sort of CD that grows on you - I should know. There's a line in one of the songs that goes: "I fell in love with you, blah, blah blah, cos you wanted me to". No, I didn't forget the words in the middle, that's exactly what the guy sings. It's like he run out of words or just couldn't be arsed to think something up. And as soon as the song comes on I sit there becoming more and more agitated as it gets to the blah, blah, blah bit and I just want to yell at the CD every time he sings it. Yes, I should buy some CDs and burn some alternative music to listen to but have you any idea how difficult it is to lay your hands on a blank CD in Toledo City?

Breakfast

It's not all bad news. I've never been very keen on mangoes but at the resort where I'm staying served me up a fresh mango for breakfast (along with the cold, oily, fried eggs, sausage dyed bright red and square bacon) and it was the most delicious fruit I've ever eaten. Wonderfully sweet and juicy with a melt-in-your-mouth flesh. At least that's something to look forward to in the mornings to share with the flies . . . . .

The slipform for the chimney has started again, thankfully. Although there was quite a serious accident involving Dave. For sensitivity reasons I won't go into details here but at least Dave's ok (although hospitalised). Whilst the slipforming is underway it's usually quite hectic and the working hours are long so there isn't much opportunity to get out and about to explore. However, the slipforming should be completed before the end of this month so I'll hopefully I'll have more time then.