Learning

Less than two months away will mark a very important anniversary: 2 years of on-and-off travel, discovering the real meaning of work-life balance, and cementing lifetime friendships.

Early December will mark the time I met Gai, Sue and Deb in Chiang Mai and began a series of adventures I hope to be able to tell my grandchildren some day. No need to say it has been the best decision of my life. But more importantly, as time passes I realize how much this experience has enriched and fostered my imagination. I have so many business ideas and things I would love to do that each day that goes by makes me feel my life is too short to fulfill it all! But hey, one step at a time, and one foot in front of the other.

And so after a week of decadent life in Siargao and a fair share of hedonistic fun, I was invited to come to Camiguin Island and spend some time with my friend Deb and her husband Kai, the musician with the rockabilly band who will be touring Asia next year and with whom I may be singing too. Whatever happens though, coming to discover a new island in the Philippines is an experience to remember. I boarded my flight out of London thinking I would be re-visiting old spots I knew. But being flexible and open to new experiences just makes life unravel before you in fascinating ways.

Deb had warned me that Camiguin reminded her of Hawaii, in its volcanic, lush ways with colourful flowers blooming everywhere and fresh water springing from every hill. The volcanic element may make the beach black, but it gives the island a fertility that is hard to ignore. There is plenty to see and do, such as dipping in natural springs of cold or hot water that take the shape of waterfalls in lush, cave-like surroundings. One white sand bar and another marine sanctuary little off island called Mantigue make for fascinating snorkeling to rival some of the best tank dives I have experienced so far. And Calan’s true Italian restaurant serves, hands down, the best Italian sausage pizza I have ever tasted, more so out here when every once in a while one feels like a taste of home.

So today I swam alongside the coral reef wall in Mantigue island and watched as the small community’s 25 children in a shack called a school. Children learned to read in a beach-side school that could resemble a run-down garden shack in any western home. This is when I realize that westerners who claim they never learned because their teacher or the school’s facilities sucked cannot be quite true. How then would the hill tribe children of Sapa, in Northern Vietnam, who school only until the age of 12, or these island children in the Philippines learning in a one-room wooden building barely rising from the sand, without electricity or a toilet, (let alone an art or science department or a gym) be able to learn and speak more than one language fluently, or reach your heart with such beautiful smiles.

To friends, who reach out and know when to guide you back to your heart.
-