day 1--leaving seoul, arriving cebu city

seung-hee all smiles at the airport before our flight

after eight months of marriage, we finally took our honeymoon. back in april, our intended honeymoon destination had been jeju island, off the coast of southwest korea where the dialect of korean spoken there might as well be a foreign language to mainlanders. however, given more time to think about it, we decided to try the badian island, a small island off cebu island in the philippines.

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when we left seoul at 8:15p on the 24th, the weather was cold and clear, with temps around -6* Celsius. when we arrived in cebu city around 12:30a on the 25th, the weather was warm, muggy, and rainy, with temps around 25* Celsius.

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we stayed in cebu city overnight before departing for a cross-island ride to badian island.

day 2--traversing cebu island

we awoke on day 2 to this: grey, overcast cebu city, humid and allegedly warm, but the dampness from the drizzle made it almost cool. though it had escaped us both that the date was december 25th, the constant "merry christmas" greetings by hotel staff, tour guides, pedestrians, beggar children, fellow passersby, and animals roaming the streets in search of food never gave us a chance to make this oversight again.

we ate breakfast amidst this chorus and then departed at 10:00a on our 100-km, 3-hour drive to the southwest shores of cebu island.

the trip was amazingly outlandish,

wonderfully colourful,

and remindful to us that this country was a tropical asian island where coconut trees swayed in blissful harmony with the rice paddies in which they often were found.

the small towns and cities were eventful, crowded, fields of activity,

eccentricity,

old and garish-coloured architecture,

mountains,

and grey clouds reflecting rainbow gravy covered beneath.














finally, we arrived at the edge of the mainland island for a short trip across waves of infinite marine harmony on a small dinghy to our badian island destination.

before lunch, i was doing cartwheels in stoned pancake anti-batter

~~

the day itself became one of dodging raindrops (or accepting them willingly and graciously into our hair, clothes, skin, eyes, ears, and shoes) and enjoying the festiveness with which filipinos embrace christmas. everywhere we went, there was a "merry christmas" to buss our cheeks.

~~

it was also one of eating the great food of the island. we lunched and had a christmas dinner of such scrumptiaties as shrimp-stuffed pork, seafood soup, prawns in coconut sauce, cauliflower soup, chicken in peanut sauce, carafes of italian white table wine, and more. our dinner, in particular, was notable because it was a great christmas buffet while we were entertained by a five-man local band singing yesteryear pop, seasonal christmas, and timeless caribbean tropical delights.

day 3--getting out

a cool and rainy morning, like a sheep dog that had just finished the 400m breaststroke, greeted us after our unfitful night's sleep.
~

though we missed the breakfast buffet because we wanted to sleep late, we did eventually get up in order to take our scheduled glass-bottom boat cruise. the seas were rough and the rain slanted into the shanty of a boat like the miniature spears from a threatened tarantula, stinging us with less poison and agony, but with just as sinister precision.

~

the glass bottom afforded us with nice views of the colourful just below the surface of the boat, but these views were trumped later the next day. fortunately for seung-hee, since she didn't take her seasickness meds, we were only out on the water for a half-hour. when we got back to dry land, the rain was coming down hard enough to confuse us as to whether or not we'd actually stepped on the alleged "dry" land yet. still unsettled from a bad night's sleep and seung-hee's roiling stomach, we decided to head back to the villa and have a nap before lunch and the afternoon's frolicking at the spa.

locals fishing despite the elements, rough seas, and obnoxiously curious tourists

caught in the jaws of languor
~

we had an after-lunch appointment at the resort spa, from 2p-4p, where we could use the sauna and Thalasso pools for relaxation. the sauna was your typical dry sauna, except it was perched right on the sea, less than meter above the gently lapping waves. these Thalasso pools were cool water pools that were constantly being fed by a natural waterfall from the springs beneath the island (the pools were built into the cliffs overlooking the sea and adjacent island). fantastic stuff. we frolicked for two hours between the insanely hot sauna and the refreshing pools. we were given ice water and warm ginger tea by the spa staff as we relaxed in the pools while taking in the amazing views of the lush, mountainous island across the water from us.

the view from one of the spa's Thalasso pools

my filipino queen with the korean name
~

after the pools and spa, we had a bit of a rest (i as so relaxed that i couldn't be bothered to go down to the seaside bar for happy hour) before going back to the spa for our scheduled one-hour massage. after three hours of mental and physical therapeutics, we glided our way blissfully down to the beach for a waveside dinner. my stomach was still acting up, so i just drank a bottle of wine, ate a little of the delicious food, and took in some of the entertainment. our entertainment on this evening was a solo singer/guitar-player who sang a lot of mellow tunes to accompany our dinner (one particular song, though not mellow, was brilliant: it was "endless love", from the movie of the same name, and sung by richie and ross. as our singer began the song, it dawned on me that there needed to be two singers for this song and by what method was he going to negotiate this dilemma. well, i needn't have worried--i'd never heard one person sing both parts of the song because of the range of voice needed--because this singer somehow pulled it off. when he sang the first diana ross bit, i think everyone dropped their forks in utterness and looked up. he was damned good and got a standing ovation, everyone allowing their clapping to intervene their eating. it was remarkable), plus a group of locals dancing traditional dances to traditional filipino songs. typical resort fare to try and fool the tourists into thinking they're witnessing true filipino culture when each night of their stay costs more than a whole troupe of dancers make in a month of such shows at the resort. seung-hee and i knew better and, thus, booked a boat ride over to some of the neighbouring towns for a time of it for the day after next.

day 4--going under

in about five decades, the locals will be able to eat the mature and ripened fruit of this now-innocent and infant coconut tree
~
the morning of day 4 dawned cloudy, but not rainy, and with major hints of blue sky on display. this was a good sign because our late morning to mid-afternoon was scheduled to include swimming, snorkeling, lunching, and planting a honeymoon tree. after a late breakfast, we boarded a dinghy and made a short ten-minute boat ride to another side of the island. by this time, the sun was out in full force, with brilliant blues in contrast to the ruffled whites and moist greens. the sky was a swirl of sherbet ice cream that merged with mixture of the ocean's plasma colours. the beach and sea floor were less sand than coral, starfish, and shells; it was like walking on dried eczema and wiggling fruit rinds. it was fascinating.

where sherbet meets plasma and fruit rind eczema
~

about thirty meters out into the floor of writhing life, the water is still only about a meter and a half deep. i was a tiny sight so far out in the surf that my wife worried i would be carried away. fortuanately, this wasn't korea, this was the philippines, where insecure, xenophobic, self-important beach police goofs don't keep berating you with their whistles because you're so far out, even though a) they can't swim in a tidepool and, thus, think you can't, either, and b) they're not much taller than a meter and a half anyway, so being able to comprehend that other people may not even be swimming, but merely just standing, is beyond their limited scope.

~

another aspect of swimming was that i was the only person out there, save for a local in his hand-made paddle boat out fishing for his family's sustenance. the peacefulness of the water was immense, as was the power of the waves and the realisation at the relative dormancy of the sea at that moment. i tried to conceive of its paradoxical powers: at that time, it was withholding its awesome power and appetite for frequently violating the sturdiness of dry land, yet was still capable of quietly and most assuredly sustaining the so many countless millions of organisms, big and small, that so depended on it for life.

~

after a lunch of beer for me and ramyeon and fruit for seung-hee, we climbed up a small hill and planted the above heart-shaped placard recognising our honeymooning and the accompanying coconut tree that will bear fruit that perhaps won't be able to be enjoyed by any of our progeny until they're our grandchildren. there was a field literally filled with scores of these honeymoon trees.

~

after planting our trees, we went snorkeling. i was the only tourist on the boat who'd ever been, but everyone caught on quickly and attacked the activity with gusto. well, there was a reason for it: what lay below the surface of the water was amazing. plunging into the underwater world gave us views of amazing clarity and hues and activity. fish of all varieties and colours passes us by: zebra-striped fish, day-glo blue fish, rock-coloured fish, orange fish, lime green fish, dead black fish, indigo fish of all shapes, lengths, girths, and skittishness. they swam amongst spiked starfish, undulating condom columns of forest green coral, flat pancake-like coral (i wondered the butter and maple syrup were), day-glo blue-tipped strip-dancing coral, nude-coloured swaying in seductive unison coral, and rock-like lumps of coral. we just glided along, admiring the white sea floor below, enjoying the visibility of at least ten meters, all the while casting auspicious and perhaps timorous glances at the darker blue waters that got ever-darker as the sea plunged off the edge of the reef where the boat was moored, the unseen depths beckoning salaciously but also representing and cloaking the unseen, invoking the fires of imagination to brimming with images of lurking sea creatures with eyes the size of doors, bodies the girth of a mansion, and flailing phalanges like the chaos of rotor blades on a helicopter as it crashes into a seaside cliff. amazing colours, sensuous sights, and rampant visions--the snorkeling adventure was top-shelf.

the beer is shit, but the photo is postcard-beautiful

the view from the beach bar: sand, sea, and clouds on the island across the water

queen of all she surveys

yes, the sun really did exist and acquitted itself nicely with this sunset

somehow, my wife manages to take a photo that shows the first snow ever recorded to have fallen on badian island

~

we retired from our snorkeling back to the beach and the beachside bar for some happy hour and sunset-watching. we had dinner again, buffet-style, out on the beach next to the surf and with entertainment by the band of the first night on badian and more "traditional" dancing.

day 5--surrounding towns

well, day 5, our final full day, arrived in the form of muggy, very warm weather and a chance to escape the plushness of our resort surroundings for a jaunt into two local towns, badian and moalboal. we jumped at this chance because we could see a true side of filipino island culture (well, actually, perhaps it's more fair to say that we could see a true side of cebuan island culture, as the nation of the philippines is so widespread with hundreds of islands, scores of different varieties of culture, and over 40 different local languages indigenous to each region). we could push the envelope of our comfortable, pampered resort life and get out into the real world, so to speak, to see the everyday life of cebuans, not the life imported to us on badian island at the resort.

~

we left at 9:00a and boated across the waters to the mainland of cebu island. there, we were met by a guide named dante, not a local by cebuan standards, but part of the staff at the resort who'd been living in badian for almost seven years. he was our driver and guide for the next couple of hours.

the town of badian is like any other town on an island: an air of unhurriedness pervades, life is slow and people are not too concerned with their place on the international stage, just content to live life as they know how to do it. spitted pigs slowly turn-roasted over open fires just off a side street behind the local market. magazines hung loosely in men's hands while they nonchalantly chatted with their best mates or their wives or their kids, cigarettes dangling from their lips and scant interest in the world happening nearby. laundry was hand-washed and hung out to dry next to fresh fish waiting to be sold to interested buyers.

buses stopped and tires were changed while the whole spectacle was observed with interest and fancy by anyone passing by. there was no frenetic energy to be found anywhere, except when popped open a carbonated beverage of soda or beer.

the sweet smells of fresh pineapple, coconut, apples, mangoes, and bananas swam lazily next to the more delicate smells of incense and burning candles, which nuzzled snugly up next to the domineering smells of cooking pork or beef, which had eventually to make room for the ever-present smell of the sea and its freshly-caught denizens: fish, squid, prawns, octopus, seaweed, shellfish. similar smells are no doubt found in small island towns the world over, but these were badian smells and it served to remind one that only here could such smells be found in the mixture in which these were found.

toothless smiling island kids not asking for money, just happy to make friends with seung-hee

dante and seung-hee

~

we saw all of badian in about an hour and a half, including the bad traffic as they repaved the one main road that led through each town down the southwest coast and the changing of the tire spectacle. there wasn't much to see in the quantity of things, but there was a lot of quality that is duplicated in small towns the world over, yet, as ever, with a touch of things locally that, in the end, sets all small towns just slightly apart from all the rest.

~

our guide, dante, was truly superb. he had a lot of insight for us, showed us as much as could be showed, including the town swimming hole that in the old days served as the town's fresh-water supply (not anymore, as they're able to get water from other sources); the church--catholic, of course--built decades ago but looking like it'd been around for centuries; the houses of several rich japanese men who'd married local women and then built unnecessarily ostentatious houses that only served as part-time homes; the local cock-fighting arena (cockfighting is a huge part of filipino culture and something about which they're very proud to show to travellers; i was very intrigued and lamented at having just missed by a few days to watch the local weekly tournament); fish farms; and some of the small neighbourhoods. it was a fantastic tour and dante was top drawer.

~

a portend of the afternoon to come, too...

back at the resort, seung-hee settle down for a couple of sandwiches and some tropical drinks as we baked in the sun and watched nature paint up some more of her sherbet sky delights.

bug-eyed, 'do-ragged self-photo queen

~

about mid-afternoon, dante came sauntering over and asked if we wanted to see some cock-fighting. he had asked around after my lamentations of not being able to see some of the action and had found that in the next town past badian, a place called moalboal, there was a tournament that was going on and would last until the next morning. we gave it some thought and decided, what the hell, we might not have a chance again to see this addictive brutality anytime soon, plus it was illegal in korea and the u.s. (save for louisiana and new mexico), which made it more attractive. so we went.

~

i know there are many people reading this who will be shocked to read this, but it was the best experience of the trip.

we arrived near the arena, parked about two blocks away, and walked to the ticket window. as we got closer, we could hear the shouts and commotion coming from withing the obviously packed fighting grounds. we paid our ticket fees and walked into the outdoor complex.

~
it was a madhouse. people and chickens were scurrying everywhere; people sat sucking down beers and eating, er, chicken; the losing chickens were being cooked for consumption via grilling, barbecuing, frying, and soup-making. an old, wooden building with a roof served as the indoor arena for the fights. at first, we got a ringside seat and watched a fight.

~

first, the chickens are brought out by their respective owners and the chickens to fight are prepared for the fight by being aggrandised by another chicken to make the fighter more aggressive and ready to fight. this other, aggrandising chicken, is usually another chicken in that particular owner's arsenal. while this occurs, the betting is ferocious and harried as the spectators haggle with each other to bet on the winner.

each cock has a different-coloured piece of tape on his leg so everyone watching can tell the difference between two similarly-coloured cocks. once the bets are set, then the fight ensues. it's often quick and brutal, depending on the quality of the cocks fighting, and the aggressiveness of the cocks. one fight last less than ten seconds, while another one took more than five minutes because of the lack of interest in brutalising each other that the cocks seemed to have.

~

if one thinks i exaggerate when i say that cockfighting is a huge part of filipino culture, consider this: one fight--here in the small, sleepy, scuba diving town of moalboal--fetched a single bet on one chicken of obvious quality of US$150,000. this chicken lived up to his billing as he mauled his opponent inside about 30 seconds.

ringside view of clashing cocks

awaiting the start of a fight

fast and furious: betting on the winning cock (notice the non-filipino in the photo)

~

the morality of this fighting is debated in many countries the world over. it is brutal and it looks painful and cocks do perish (often, winners as well as losers). it is banned in many countries and i know people who are going to be horrified when they learned that i not only went willingly to watch a cockfight, but that i enjoyed myself while drinking beer, chatting up locals, betting on cocks, analysing how to choose a winning cock, and learning how important it is to the local culture and economy. who i am to judge these people? who am i to try and enforce what is considered by "civilised" society the allegedly humane thoughts that this kind of fighting should be outlawed? it's inhumane for fast food companies to be allowed to sell their deathburgers to unknowing people cramming their pieholes full of the crap on a daily basis, yet it's perfectly legal and such practice has now crept itself into such heretofore sacrosanct places as the middle of the desert in nowhere province, china.

~

it was quite a spectacle. i was less interested in watching the cocks fight, though i did not turn my head for very long while a fight was underway, than i was in observing the way the spectators soaked in all in, than i was in engaging in conversation and sharing beers with locals beside me who were content and proud to explain this exciting part of their culture. it was the definite highlight of the trip for me and, if ever given the chance to witness something like it again, i'll jump on it as quickly as i jumped on this one.

day 6--photo collage