Tazer the Dogs

I now have a secret weapon to use against the yelping dogs - the Dazer II Ultrasonic Dog Deterrent - lent to me by a New Yorker who lives on the end of my street.

The dogs must already know about it because they are staying schtum.

I only wish I had an Irresponsible Dog Owner Dazer.  Now that would be even better.

Unfortunately, my neighbours have a Foreigner Pissed Off With My Barking Dogs Dazer: it's called a hand gun.

Ranting Catch Up

Since my mate Luis left the Philippines I haven't really been up to much - well nothing of much interest other than work, which is a continual grind because those sitting in the circle continue to piss on us in the stalls.

It's been raining rather a great deal of late.  A couple of weeks ago it just lashed down with rain continuously for a week.  And I'm not exaggerating.  It was getting to the point whereby if the rain didn't let up I was going to start building an ark.

Of course, the rain has stopped all work on site and put us back a week.  This wouldn't have mattered one iota if those hob-nobbing in the stalls had paid attention to the fact that the show can't start until all the props are on stage.  But no, they send them on at the last minute and then crib if there's a delay.  To be honest, I'm sick of this never ending merry-go-round of me telling them what needs to be done and them not listening.  It's like being stood in the middle of railway track, seeing a train coming and not being allowed to step out of the way.

Similarly, this is our third contract with this client who simply refuse to install the roads or the drainage until the end of the project, when this is the first thing they should do.  Hence, they end up with a shiny new power station in a sea of mud half the time and we end up working in a big puddle.

And don't get me started on the local red tape and bureaucracy. The people I did the dive course with have been stopped from operating.  Jealous competition, petty red tape, endless hoops to jump through and as many obstacles that a stifling and ruthlessly inefficient civil service can put in the way of private enterprise and which has one aim and one aim alone: to create a hugely complex system that can only be bypassed through the generation of unaccounted income.

Not that there's much diving to be had in Subic Bay at present. What with the rain, the flood water has flushed all the rubbish and detritus out of the rivers and water courses that are generally used for rubbish disposal, and deposited it all in the bay.  Combined with a total lack of erosion control on farms and moreover construction sites, vast quantities of silt are washed down the rivers to be dumped in the seas.  Hence, Subic Bay is now a muddy brown. Still, once it and all the rubbish settles to the bottom of the ocean it'll be forgotten about.  That is until it blankets and kills the corals and turtles and sea birds wash up dead on the shores from eating plastic bags and the tourism trades dies along with it.  Perhaps I shouldn't go on like this but it is a crying shame.

Speaking of turtles, there is a turtle sanctuary down the coast from Subic and I popped in to have a look.  Not much going on as I was told it wasn't turtle egg laying season on the adjacent beach.  They did have three turtles in a turtle shaped pond no bigger than a kiddies paddling pool.  Pretty depressing actually.  The Hawksbill had a hunchback and couldn't balance itself properly in the water. There was what I was told to be a grey turtle but the nearest match I could find on the internet that looked like what I saw is an Olive Ridley turtle.  This one, so I was told, couldn't swim underwater (??) and so was left in the pitiful pool trapped in the flipper of the pond layout, constantly bashing into the end of it.  The third turtle in the pond was a green turtle that had the most amazing markings on it's head.  He (she?) seemed to be the only one that was normal.

Despite it being turtle off-season and there being nothing to see or do other than feel sorry for the captive turtles in a puddle, I was asked to pay the entrance fee, which the guy took and put straight in his pocket.  I mean, no shame, no embarrassment, just straight in his pocket.  Now you could argue that he was going to put the money in the cash box later but I'd argue that he wasn't.

My immigration visa has expired.  It's not just a simple case renewing it: oh no, that would be too easy.  In fact it expired several weeks ago but due to the painfully slow processing of any document by government agencies our lawyers have had to apply for extension letters whilst the visa is being prepared (prepared = sitting on someone's desk in the hope that it generates some "unaccounted income").  To make matters worse, I had to go for the same interview I had two years ago with the man with a beach ball up his shirt (see the second half of Everyone & Their Mum Is Packing).  I hate these interviews.  They're so pointless.  I hate being asked why I'm working in the Philippines when there's 10 million Filipinos (that number isn't an exaggeration) working in other countries around the world, with a fair few in the nursing profession in the UK alone.  If it wasn't so crummy working in the Philippines, earning next to nothing and being taxed to death then perhaps most of their skilled workers wouldn't leave to go and work overseas and cause a brain-drain on the Filipino economy.  There's an awful lot to put right.  

But what am I saying?  There's just as much that needs putting right in the UK unfortunately.  I suppose that should be my response to the interviewer: I'm working in the Philippines because I don't want to have to go home to work in another bankrupt, corrupt, third world country.

It's not all bad news.  At least the yelping dogs seems to have settled down and been quieter.  I've also noticed that they've started taking them for walks so that's probably gone a long way in getting them to relax rather than just leaving it locked up in a tiny cage 24/7.   There was a huge furore in the UK press over a Filipino who had pegged his puppy dog on the washing line. I actually thought it was quite funny and when seen in the light of how most dogs are kept in tiny cages here, it wasn't particularly cruel at all. There are far bigger issues at stake.

I had another trip to Singapore.  All rather routine and hugely expensive.  But not withstanding the exorbitant cost of the place, it's so good to go somewhere that works.  I mean really, super-efficiently works.  It sets the standard that other countries can rarely match.

Luis' Final Weekend

It's always a problem knowing what to do to entertain visitors.  Trying to work out what they do and don't like is quite difficult but having returned from Donsol I had a bit of time to mull it over whilst Luis recovered from his bout of dysentery.  Actually, after a trip to the local clinic and a very public examination in the waiting room, he was told his illness was largely attributable to the drugs he was taking for another stomach ailment that increased his susceptibility to stomach infection.

We had two options to chose from for Luis' last weekend: a hike up the volcano, Mt. Pinatubo, or a visit to the Banaue rice terraces, which I had visited last July.  On one hand I was keen to do the Pinatubo trip as it's on my list of things to do whilst in the Philippines but then I was also keen to revisit Banaue and spend a bit more time there.

We eventually settled on the trip to Banaue and so set off early morning.  It took longer than expected to get there, largely due to underestimating the distance but also because of holiday traffic.  

Entertainment en-route to Banaue

The intention was to go directly to Batad but due to our late arrival, we decided to spend the remainder of the day in Banaue and make an early start to Batad the following day, and so checked into the Stairway Lodge where I stayed a year ago.  This gave us the opportunity to explore the nearby terraces (via a very bouncy, wobbly suspension foot bridge) that were within walking distance, so off we set.  Not as impressive as those at Batad but it's always interesting, if not somewhat dangerous walking along the narrow edges of the terraces with the huge drop on one side and a wet muddy puddle on the other.  I know which I prefer.

Wobbly bridge

Back a bit . . . . 

Whilst walking around the terraces we met with plenty of very friendly locals.  There's something about being out of the cities and living the rural life that definitely makes people friendlier, happier and more welcoming.

Happy kids

Hi-ho, hi-ho, it's off to work we go

That evening we had a wander around Banaue town. Village more like.  It was dead.  We were told that for the previous 3 days there had been a huge festival of local music, cultural dancing, beauty contests and competitions, including catching the greasy pig.  Now that I would have like to have seen.  Apparently, we were told that the first pig they greased up put up no resistance to be captured.  So another "volunteer" was found.  However, this one was the complete opposite and escaped down and alleyway, never to be seen again.  It would have been good to see the festival but never mind, there's always next year.  Oh no there isn't.  We were told it was a once every 3 year event.  Better pencil that into my diary then.

Banaue town

The follow day, after an early night due to nothing very much to do, we made an early start and headed out to Batad.  You can only drive so far before before you have to start hiking.  Last year we didn't have a 4x4 vehicle so did considerably more walking, but this time we had an SUV that could take us to the ridge known as The Saddle.  From here, after politely refusing the assistance of impromptu guides offering their services, we set off heading down the massive staircase and down the mountain into Batad.

On the way down to Batad

I love this place.  The serenity, the cool mountain air, the wonderful people and the staggering views.  Having to hike in and not being able to drive in makes it all the more to be appreciated, like something you work for is always better than getting something for nothing.  We selected a lodge at the top of the valley with a commanding view of the rice amphitheatre. After dumping our bags we had the weirdest local coffee that had the look and texture of muddy water but which was surprisingly tasty.  On looks alone no one would chose to drink it.  It certainly wouldn't be a big seller in your local Starbucks.

View from the terrace of the lodge

I accepted a local guide's offer to show us the route to the waterfall, more out of wanting to support the local economy rather than need as I was familiar with the route from the last time I visited.  The hike is pretty tough despite it being mostly downhill to the waterfall and the heat was a real killer.  At the falls we had a swim in the chilly waters at the base with the thundering noise of the water and the fine spray and mist to keep us cool.  It was a very welcome relief from the heat of the trek.  Although it was short lived as on the way out it was a steep, sweaty climb back to the lodge.  We did consider going right up to the top of the terraces, quite a stiff climb in itself but decided against it principally on the basis of we were both lacking protection from the sun and were burning up.

Batad water fall

I'd charged my digital camera the night before in Banaue but in the morning found out that it had hardly charged at all. Initially I thought it was the fault of the lodge but then discovered it was a problem with a faulty mains lead for the charger.  This was a mix of good and bad news. The bad news was I had no digital camera and no HD video.  The good news is that this forced me to use my fully mechanical Pentax 6x7 camera.  The bad news is for you who are familiar with the 6x7 it's a bit of lump to be lugging around on hike through the mountains.  Having said that I thought the results from the camera made it very worthwhile, even if there are only 12 frames to a film.

We were told in Batad by one of the guides that a Korean woman had fallen off a high terrace and suffered severe head injuries (some of the terraces must be 9 ft high).  There are no roads in or out and I can't see there being an air ambulance available so I've no idea how they got her to hospital. We'd been told that she was looking though her camera rather than were she was going.  Really not recommended when walking along the edge of a 9 ft drop.  The danger is that in order to protect the stupid tourists from themselves, in future there may be designated walking paths or handrails installed which would completely distract from the authenticity of the place with the location taking on a Disney like theme park feel. Although I can't see that happening any time soon. Besides, the locals and their tiny kids don't seem to have a problem. 

Back at the lodge we had a late lunch, Luis had more muddy coffee whilst I had a few beers.  We spent our time entertaining the enchanting kids living there.  No Gameboy or Playstation for them.  They were thrilled with paper planes, origami jumping frogs and simple tricks. Like I've said so many time before, it seems to be that kids that have the least are always the happiest.  Similarly, kid that have nothing tend to play and share with each other rather than playing in isolation and being possessive.

Start playing young

Charming and well mannered kids

We stayed over night at the lodge, which was around £3 a night but we'd spent a small fortune on food, drinks.

The next day we were up before sunrise to go out and take in the early morning views.  We'd arranged for the guide to take us out but he was late so we started off making our own way.  A short while later he caught up with us looking somewhat dishevelled and it was my reckoning that he'd gone out and got himself drunk on the proceeds of his earnings the day before.

Walking around in the cool morning air is far more pleasant than the heat of the day.  Back at the lodge we had huge breakfast before hiking back up to the saddle and back into the car for the long drive back to Subic.

On the way back, Luis does, what Luis does best!