Dispatch from Baras Beach, Wednesday, April 13

Dispatch from Baras Beach, Wednesday, April 13

It’s 8: 20 am, and I’m sitting on the porch of our little hut at Baras Beach while Jeanne does her shoulder exercises. It’s almost embarrassing to describe the setting. I’m on a lava rock promontory overlooking a lovely little bay lined with palm trees and mangroves (imagine . The whole bay is surrounded by the characteristic pock-marked lava, presumably the remnants of some ancient volcano in the area, and out toward the ocean there are many little lava rock islands. (Imagine a South sea island in the movies or travel poster, and you’ve pretty well got the picture, except it’s quite dry hedre this time of year, and especially this year.) This is all protected area, and you can’t even take a pebble from the beach. In fact we ran into the wife of a professor at the U of the Philippines this morning who teaches marine biology and is responsible for preserving coastal areas and coral. She explained a lot of the natural surroundings to us, as well as some interesting Philippine politics.
Our cottage has a thatch roof, woven bamboo wood sides, mahogany floor, except the porch, which has floor of bamboo slats through which you can see the rocks below. I’m not sure I mentioned the mattresses at the monastery, about 2 inches of foam (perhaps a touch of monastic asceticism), but we realized how uncomfortable they really are when we both slept through last night on a 6 inch mattress.
We continue our monastic journey with morning and evening prayers from our trusty prayer book. But what a setting! Last night, we sat on the porch looking toward the west at the setting sun, and the rising crescent moon in peaceful quiet. I’m glad we’re doing this journey during the joy of Eastertide.
We both woke with the breaking dawn and lay quietly as the light grew, until the sun broke over the surrounding hills. After morning prayers on the porch, we headed down for breakfast. The choice was “Full Asian” or “Full Amercain” (our proprietor is no where to be seen), and settled on a combination—the obligatory mound, and I mean mound, of rice, some sugar cured pork, eggs, and a juicy mango. And instant coffee, of course. I don’t think anyone knows how to brew coffee here.
Not much wild life here on land. There are a few chickens roaming the grounds, some dogs who hardly ever move once the sun is up, and thousands of miniscule ants on most surfaces, in fact there are a few climbing on my computer screen right now. I assume they’re in bed with us too, but don’t seem to bother us.
The sea, however, is teaming with life. We began our exploration late yesterday afternoon by taking out a tiny row boat just off-shore among the tiny lava islands. What we didn’t realize is that the evening breeze was stiffening, and the tide had a special rip to it as it flowed between these little islands. At one point we found ourselves struggling to keep from being swept out to sea (next stop Malaysia). Jeanne, characteristically, had numerous comments to make on my sailing skills, not all of them complimentary. In my defense, it didn’t help that one oar was too short, and neither were attached to the gunnels (is that what you call those brass things where the oars pivot?) and kept slipping out. On the less adventurous side, tiny silver fish leap in huge schools over the water, flashing like shiny coins over the water. The woman I spoke of showed us a hermit crab, still in it’s conch-like shell, plus a star fish. We plan to go snorkeling in the bay this afternoon, and have a closer look.
Last night we chatted over some 15-year old rum with Peter, our host, and a young man named Frazier from the UK who was traveling alone around the Philippines for a month. Peter gets more fascinating as we get to know him better. I had imagined him retired from the British
Foreign Office, now gone native, an idea he found quite laughable. He’s a now-retired engineer who traveled the world in his 40-foot sailing yacht while working free-lance for a Scottish company. Every week or two he’d haul into some port and call Edinburgh to see if there was any work. If so, he’d hop on a plane and go there for a few weeks or months, while his partner tended the yacht. He had tales of nearly being shot on the runway in Monrovia, getting lost in Papua New Guinea, and finally landing here on a long government lease. He’s a relaxed and genial host (well who wouldn’t be if you pretty much drank been all day long), which seems his main work besides keeping the books, and gently supervising his dozen or so Filipino employees. The most valuable is the chef, who whipped up a gourmet feast last night (dinner is always at 7:30, an hour or so after dark) of huge grilled prawns, real vegetables (we’d almost given up on the idea that Filipinos eat them), grilled pork, and rice. I should mention that we’re enjoying “Peter’s Paradise” for about $30 a day, including the gourmet meals, all three. I think the Philippines is the vacation bargain of SE Asia, but I can’t remember it being promoted anywhere in the US.