El Nido

While paddling across a small cove after breakfast, our Filipino kayak guide named Aaron catches my attention and points his paddle across the cove to an off white and burnt orange overhung wall a couple hundred meters away.  He quickly performs the apparently international climbing signal to me - hands climbing up a ladder. We silently paddle forth. 

For the last three days, Molly and our dear Bend-based buds Tyson and Sara, and our three local support crew have been thoroughly enjoying the Bacuit bay off the coast of spunky little El Nido town on northern Palawan island.  Our itinerary is dreamy - paddle on SUPs and kayaks from one palm-lined beach to another, playing coy with the distance from the jagged, featured, castle-like, limestone karst cliffs that rise from their wave-bashed erroded undercut, often one or two hundred meters into the sky.  The cracks and seams splitting the rock house vegetation on the nearly vertical stone.   Aaron, in his heavily accented English, may tell us the snorkeling is good here, or we need to hop in the support boat and putt putt to another location.  When we chose it, the snorkeling was incredible - great shallow reefs with big shelf drops for us to free dive and test our nerves under water.  Who knew Mol-oi (her growing Viet nickname) was such a little fish.  She has Casco bay water in her blood.

During the snorkel, our guides would prepare an exquisite lunch of rice, fresh fish, a veg salad and enough watermelon to choke a horse.  One day after a post lunch nap on the boat, we performed an impromptu Christmas concert fir the nearby coral with our boat hand on the ukulele, the captain on percussion, and the remaining 5 as vocalists of varying talent.  We sipped local rum diluted with coconut water while laughing at and with each other over missed notes and made up lyrics - a true bonding moment with our fun loving guides, transcending the differences in our respective roles of client and guide. New friends just enjoying common musical backgrounds.

Filipinos love basketball.  Plain and simple.  Waking up in the beach one morning, wiping my eyes of sand, both blown in from a storm and self produced from slumber, our guides pick up the basketball lodged between the two tree trucks that hold up the fastened 2x4 backboard and rusted rim.  We shoot around for a few minutes. Before long, we are playing to 13 in a 2v2 match on the small patch of packed sand, hardly bigger than a normal key on a court.  No dribbling - only passing, cutting, jumping, and pumping.  Final score: Philippines 13, USA 12.

Little wonder that days later our boat man would rush to unpack our gear after our trip finished only to walk directly to the nearest court to play in the local semi final.  International jerseys, great no-look passes, and hard but smiley play entertained the crowd.  An announcer excitedly gave commentary and updates through a loudspeaker. We watched the game with the other 120+ El Niditos as they played for a trophy, cash prize, and a bottle of Rum provides by our tour host, El Gordo.  A top notch guide and homestay establishment that hosts dozen of community development events throughout the year.

I didn't have my mind set on climbing, as my hands were pretty torn up from exploring the needly vertical aspects of lagoons the previous day.  As we approached the rock, Tyson scoped the route that would eventually test my deep water solo limits.  I stood on the front of his paddle board to start the route and cautiously traversed to a small ledge on bulletproof stone.  Looking over to the next section required constant vigilance of the sea depth and wave pattern below me, as it looked tricky without an easy exit.  A few fun exposed moves later, I leaped 20' into the ocean, rising up to bask in homie props and safety.  Sara's turn. She strong-armed the first major overhang, a characteristic of every good looking route in the area and made the traverse to ledge before executing an obviously well practiced backflip.  With no rush from our guide (ever) we paddled home to be welcomed by Gordo and his wife Christina for another amazing meal and story time. 

We are so lucky to be traveling with good friends for the holidays. So grateful for the wonderful Filipino guides, host's, servers, ballers, chefs, kids, and captains, for the food, the fish, and the feeling of family.  Excited to see the Blackburn's in a week.  Merry Christmas!

Cafe scene

I sit in a small wicker chair at a dim incandescent café at 6:30pm on a Friday.  A sweet mix of Vietnamese/English music plays in the background as a constant stream of moto commuters make their way to their respective abodes, cafes, or funky bars.  I sit in the back corner, which is also against the simple bar, looking out through both the open front door and the even larger accordion style side door.  Typically, as I enter an establishment, I seem to sit in the seat and at the table that positions me in a place to have the most active view - a win/win when I'm alone because I don't think about other's visual experiences. 

Out the door a small middle aged woman and her significantly younger make counterpart collect the nightly neighborhood rubbish.  He strolls 10 meters down each of three narrowing alleys at the end of the road ringing a loud cow bell.  Residents, as if its as natural as sipping hot tea in the chilly afternoon, bring their rubbish to the woman who stands on the rail of the dumpster cart shoving down the bags of trash. 

Across the street two crusty lads passionately steel each other's Chinese checkers piece under the florescent light.  They are much more relaxed than the gang of dudes who choke down cigs and sunflower seeds as they play game on top of game in front of our apartment by the pond. Every. Single. Night. 

I ask the cute server to fill my glass mug with a hot water so I can are so my sweetened Lipton bag again as wait for Mol to finish her final fitting of her wedding dress.  The smell of nearby cigs wafts into my brain as if they were my own.  I write to ease the familiar jitters associated with the anticipation of loads of upcoming adventure-ridden free time.  After waves of being family sick in the coldest dampest 60° imaginable, a possible dinner date with my dear cousin looms on the horizon before we board a 1:30am flight to Manila to kick off our winter break.  Who knew life would always be asking us to walk the balance between the simple and the complex and find purpose in it all?

Team building

I can't remember the last weekend we didn't spend at least one evening with new friends.  The core are St. Paul teachers from the states, but Vietnamese friends and Spanish families add diverse cultural flavor to our free time.  A few weeks ago we burned the midnight and early morning oil dancing at a music festival just outside of Hanoi the peninsula of a massive lake.  It was a colorful way to bond with co-workers sleeping in the dirt and wearing... well, sometimes not very much.  After the festival, Molly contacted the lead artist from our favorites two sets, the Hanoied Jazz Band, and sang at weeknight gig with them.  Unfortunately a demanding professional schedule doesn't jive with regularly performing at late night jazz clubs.  Her dream lives on.

Spanish footballers, Taylor (happy 30th) & Dana

Our friend & school athletic director (Taylor above) coordinated a super fun 5k turkey trot and thanksgiving feast for all our students and families at school.  It was a great community building event and a few of the students and staff including myself shared gratitude's in front of the entire school.  Shortly after the event, fourteen of us flew down to Nha Trang on the southern coast for a weekend of mud baths, theme parks, beaching, and powerful stream exploring.  We are both so grateful for the community people we have met and friendships we have made both here and the eternal relationships we have with our friends and families pre-Vietnam.  We told ourselves before we left the only way we could manage a second year here was to develop bonds a community of fun adventurous people... so we signed contracts for 2018-2019 school year!

Humbled by a powerful flow - Nha Trang

Two more gratitudes go out to my bicycle and the Vietnamese teacher at our school.  The last 4 months was the longest time I had gone without regularly riding a bicycle.  Now I have made the 10 mile commute to school through the chaotic but relatively slow Hanoi traffic a few times.  Pedaling brings so much good energy into my life - I am glad to have it back. Secondly, I love learning Vietnamese (although it's a two steps forward one step back type of process.  I still can't even say what I want 95% of the time, but the few survival phrases and informal yet contextual greetings I have learned form my last two weekly lessons have elevated me from the casual tourist lingo group to the I-actually-live-here-and-want-to-learn category.   It's fun to noticeably improve in something that offers such a huge reward - the ability to communicate verbally and learn about wonderful people.  Chuc may man!  [good luck]

Moloi, Michelle, Antonella - 

Katie, Itoro, Moloi at Vinpearl - Nha Trang