Week 4 - One Month Down

Week 4

In case the video doesn't work, this is here to ensure brownie points are awarded

So I've been here a month now. Seriously? I've been living on a beach for a month? It feels like I flew out of San Francisco last week.
I still can't shake the feeling that this is all just a week-long vacation and that I'll be going home in a few days. But it's been a month...
Certainly doesn't feel like it, but I'm pretty sure my calendar has no reason to lie to me.

Here's a an overview of what this past month had in store for me.

In one month I have:

• Become a certified Open Water diver.
• Become a certified Advanced Open Water diver.
• Become a certified Rescue diver.
• Learned tons of stuff about fish
• Learned tons of stuff about coral. 
• Ridden in a motorcycle side-car (lifelong dream)
• Won every argument/debate I've been a part of
• Broken lots of stuff
• Dive Computer
• Hard Drive
• Phone
• Diving mask
• Headphones
• Made friends
• Made enemies
• Completed 36 dives
• Forgotten how to phrase a proper American question
• Picked up the word "proper" and use it profusely. It's proper shameless.
• Have not played a single video game. Life record.
• Survived an ear infection
• Continued to miss the Rugby World Cup
• Grown my beard out. No picture yet.
• Lost 15 lbs
• Discovered Mango floats

Weekly Video Recap

This week was a bit difficult to document. I was out of the water for half the week due to my ear infection, and the other half I was engaged in nonstop  training/studying. So I was either really bored, or really busy. Neither of which are great blog material.
Nevertheless, I have a knack for rambling, and have done so below.


Things that happened this week:

My trike driver added me on Facebook. (Trike = sidecar motorcycle taxi)
I had tea made by an English person.
Finished The Martian
I had pizza again! (but it was Shakey's Pizza so..)
I took a shower indoors. (hotel room).
I found Trolli Sour Gummy Worms!
My secret/private bathroom was unfairly requisitioned for living quarters.
I got my visa extended.
I became a certified Rescue Diver.
A flying sea snake attacked me. True story.
I watched Pitch Perfect 2 while writing this.
Watched every episode of R. Kelly's hip hopera, Trapped in the Closet.
Went diving in my sweet camo boonie hat. America style.
Two new Filipino scholars joined us, Dexter and Achassi. Welcome, guys!



Two very unfortunate things happened to me this week.

1: Everyone found out about my fear of snakes.
2: My secret bathroom was stolen away from me.

Below you will find a description of these unfortunate events.

#1. My fear of snakes

Yes, shocker, I know. How can Travis - the definition of manliness and bravery - have an instinctual, primal and very rational fear?
It's true. I can't control it. Leave it alone.

I hear you asking, "But Travis, how did everyone find out about your fear?"

Well.
The other night a large sea snake (very venomous, very lethal) crawled up next to our porch. While most of the volunteers gathered around to spectate and help scare it away, I responsibly stayed back and kept a lookout for everyone else in case any other snakes came around..
From on top of a bench. Ten yards away.

However, this responsible and very rational behavior was not what outed me.
As the snake retreated to its lair, it was found to have a nest with multiple baby snakes.
You'll notice I did not say how many baby snakes there were. That is because I don't know, because I never went to look.
I responsibly stayed in my lookout position on top of the bench. Twenty yards away.

My lookout behavior began to clue everyone in.
Group: "Travis, come check this out. There are babies, it's a nest!"
Me: "Oh yeah, that's totally cool. Let's celebrate a nest of deadly reptiles in our front yard."
Group: "Yeah, but they're so coo - ...Wait, are you afraid of snakes?
Me: "Umm, maybe."
Group: "Really? How Afraid?"
Me: "Well, I'm standing on a bench really far away. Take that as a good indicator of my fear level."
Group: "Hahaha, come face your fears."
Me: "Nope, @!$# that."

You see where this is going. Ever since this encounter there have been many false snake sightings solely for my benefit. One volunteer even tried to scare me in my sleep, but luckily they were thwarted by my restless sleeping habits.

Unfortunately, this was not the end of my snake trauma.

The day after the snake sighting, our base manager found the snake's long, gross, shed skin out in the yard. For some strange reason, someone decided to hang the snake skin up on display inside the building. I wasn't a fan, but whatever. I can deal with that. Dead skin can't hurt me.

Then on Friday night at dinner time, in a vicious act of nature, the snake skin came loose in the wind. It floated across the room, and out of the 13 people eating dinner at the table, it decided to land on
-you guessed it - me. Right across the back of my neck and shoulders.
After the initial reaction of being startled by something touching me, I realized it was a snake (skin) and proceeded to freak the hell out.
In a very masculine voice I yelled out, "AAHHHHHH!!!!"
Keep in mind, this is at a dinner table with 12 other people present. Twelve other people who are not afraid of snakes. Twelve other people who are not afraid of snakes but think it's verrrryyy funny that I am.
The laughter went on for a solid 2 minutes, while I slowly recovered from a near heart attack.

Scarier in person

Dad, I'm sure you're proud.
Ladies, I bet you're impressed with my sensitive side. Bravery is overrated, right?

After the snake attack, it was time to vote for Fish of the Day. In complete disregard of my feelings, the damned sea snake skin won Fish of the Day. It then went on to be Fish of the Week.
It got off on the technicality of being a SEA snake. Bullshit if you ask me.



Event Number Two: I had my private/secret bathroom stolen from me.

Each room has a bathroom in it and one of our rooms was unoccupied for a few days, so I quietly made use of its facilities. Why should it go unattended?
It was like a little vacation, my home away from home.
And then it was stolen away from me.
Gone. One fell swoop.
Just because someone wanted to live in the bedroom. What a waste.
Then when it was found out what I had been doing, I was unfairly awarded Dick of the Day for my antics. Punishing a man for seeking peace and quiet is downright un-American.

I only had the bathroom to myself for 3 days, but it was glorious while it lasted. Short butt sweet.




In other news, Filipino drivers are INSANE.

We all know a certain stereotype in America about how a certain racial group drives. Maybe their blinker is on for 2 miles, maybe they merge without warning, or maybe they drive incredibly slow. Let me tell you right now, Filipinos do not belong in that stereotype.

In the past week I have had to make two long distance trips for various errands, involving several modes of transport, which has given me a solid dose of Filipino driving.

My observations:

• I haven't seen a stoplight. Not one. Not in the city, not out in rural country. 
• Every 4-way intersection is either a roundabout or a straight up free-for-all.
• Every road is two-lane, there are dogs running everywhere, and horns are constantly beeping.
• Because the roads are two-lane, every vehicle is constantly passing, weaving in and out, and honking.
• I've constantly got one hand on the nearest handle and the other shielding my face from the impending car crash. 
• Amazingly, our vehicle doesn't crash, and we're somehow safely back in our lane. 
• A quick beep of the horn is used to tell someone you intend to pass them, and then you just do it. Regardless of the massive bus in the oncoming lane. 
• A quick beep of the horn is also used to alert people to your presence so they don't walk into the road. Which is fair, because the road is the size of a big sidewalk.

Types of Transport:

Bus: Pretty typical bus, just way more bumpy and crammed. The money collectors do not wear a uniform, so the first time one of them came to collect my bus fare, I was slightly confused as to why a stranger was demanding money from me. Since then, I recognize the guy and give him my money promptly. It costs me the equivalent of $4 US dollars for a round trip to a city 2 hours away. This includes bus fair, personal sidecar service, and a light snack of my choosing. Not bad


Jeepney: Jeepneys are like something out of Mad Max. Complete with crazy paint jobs, people hanging off the sides, and ornate metal additions on the front, these things look like badass death machines. They are like a mix between a bus and a large van, but extra badass.

Just needs a guy shredding an electric guitar on the front

When the inside is completely packed full, there are often people hanging on the sides, off the back, or sitting on the roof. If it rains, they throw a tarp over the people on the roof and keep rollin'. As I've said, Jeepneys don't take no shit.
I do not recommend cramming in with a mountain backpack stuffed to the brim with groceries. They'll make you sit on the tiny little wooden bench in the middle, and your tailbone will hate you for days afterward. Plus, some weird little 4-year-old kid will repeatedly stroke your leg hair, probably because he hasn't seen a hairy white person before and wants to know if you're actually a person or a polar bear.

UV: This is essentially a van with bench seating that manages to pack 18 people in. There are little wooden seats that are placed inside to accommodate extra seating.
This seating would be super illegal in the States.
The entire time, you get to sit shoulder to shoulder with Filipinos who probably don't appreciate your American body taking up more room than theirs.
(You can't cage them!)

Trike: This is a motorcycle with a covered sidecar attached attached to it. They rock! I plan to play the old Batman cartoon theme music next time I ride in one.
Trikes are usually pretty slow, but they are a nice way to get from one part of the city to another. And did I mention, Sidecar!?
There's also a bicycle version of the trike, but it just feels so...slave-like. I just feel bad the whole ride.

Motorcycle: I won't insult your intelligence, you know what a motorcycle is. However, you may not have seem them utilized like they are here.
They are the dominant form of personal transport from what I've seen, especially out in the rural area we're in.
They are outfitted with extra footholds so additional passengers can fit on, and it's quite common to see 3 or 4 people on one motorcycle.
And of course, no helmets. (Mother, I can hear you nagging from here, so just stop it)
Where we are, motorcycles are also the common vehicle for delivering goods. The way they manage to stack things on these tiny bikes is quite impressive.
They are the modern day pack mules - hard-working, loud, undersized, and die often.
I even saw pigs being carried in huge wooden saddlebags once! The picture below is our beer delivery for the week. All our food is delivered in a similar fashion.
Motorcycles rock.

In all, the transport here is pretty exciting and always keeps you on your toes. Gone are the days of a boring 20 minute ride to get groceries.
Did I mention SIDECARS?!




It's safe to say this has been one of the better months of my life. I've met great people, learned a lot, and I rode in a sidecar. Gold.
I have two more months of this before I ship off to New Zealand, and I look forward to every second of it.

To those back in the States, take a big bite of a cheeseburger for me.

Thanks for reading, hope you enjoyed it.

Hogs Wild