“MANANANGGAL, HOW DO YOU DO?”

By Graham Payne

I arrived at the Manila international airport on Sunday morning. A driver was there to whisk me to my hotel in Muntinlupa, some 20 miles south of Manila and close to Laguna Province where most of my business meetings were scheduled over the next several days.

Most of my trips to Manila followed the same routine: in Sunday morning and a day to recover from the 15-hour flight from San Francisco, 5 full working days and back home the following Saturday. But this time I had a different plan: an air ticket for Iloilo on Friday and several days exploring remote and mysterious Antique Province. A friend promised to pick me up at the airport in Iloilo and take me to San Jose de Buenavista, a port city on the Sulu Sea and capital of Antique.

I was quite excited about my Antique plan, so when Friday morning finally arrived I postponed my morning meetings and had the driver instead take me to the Domestic Airport in Manila several hours early to catch my 12:30pm flight to Iloilo.

I checked in and found a seat near the boarding gate somewhere off by myself and took a deep breath. I reflected on my upcoming trip: my first venture into the provinces alone. Everything I had learned about the Philippines over the past 10 years cautioned me about travelling alone.

Yet I was relaxed. I leaned back in my seat, stretched out and surveyed the new Domestic Airport beaming in its new cream and grey baked enamel and sunlit windows, quite an improvement over the old wooden and cramped domestic terminal. People were checking in, pushing luggage, looking for gates and checking boarding passes. The airport is an exciting place to be, especially if you’re getting ready to fly off into paradise. Thoughts about California and work quickly dissipated.

After some 20 plus years of working in high-tech Silicon Valley I could never relax, not even on vacations to Maui where, lying on the beach, my mind would always drift back across the Pacific to my desk job; …well, I’ll solve this problem first, then that one, and so on…I just couldn’t turn my mind off.

This seemed different. I was going into some foreign land, by myself, on a trip of discovery. I had read up on Antique but not much to learn about it: possibly settled by Datus from Borneo, some Peace Corps volunteers near Culasi, mangoes, sort of the forgotten province of Panay Island. A formidable mountain range separates it from the rest of the island. Yet Antique sits on the west coast of Panay and watches the sun set every day into the Sulu Sea and beyond.

I had always been intrigued by the Visayan Islands. Clean, un-crowded and with a rich history of its own, it seemed like a place to get lost in. However, when I secretly whispered to one of my close Filipino friends that I was going to Antique his first response was “Mananangal” - apparently a sorceress of sorts. I wasn’t sure what to think of this but it was true that Sarena, the Cagayan River spirit, took a slice of my palm once upon a time near Aparri - but that’s another story.

Few people knew of my plans - my Filipino business associates thought I was going back to San Francisco. This was the scary part as I, living in the safe and secure environment of California, planned to venture alone into the jungles of Southeast Asia. Certainly my Silicon Valley friends would never imagine my attempting something so risky and carefree - or should I say careless.

I had my boarding pass and I was going to Iloilo. My life was no longer my own. My mind drifted into a zone, one without problems or fears, guilt or regrets, and it felt good.

Perhaps I should have been nervous, but I wasn’t. In fact, the complete opposite: my heart rate dropped and I felt, ironically, that I was actually in control by releasing it. I sat in the terminal for some 2 hours in this mindset completely at peace with myself.

I finally boarded the plane. As the 737 climbed into the haze above Manila we circled above Laguna de Bay and headed south leaving the Manila skyline behind us. It was early afternoon on a clear day and I could see the water and several emerald-green islands below which I tried to identify: perhaps Mindoro, maybe Masbate, and finally Panay.

I had difficulty figuring out just how to use my straw to puncture the little pouch of Cebu mango juice the stewardess handed me.

We flew down the west coast of Panay and began a descent into a cloud bank as we veered east towards Iloilo. I was thinking about my friend who promised to pick me up that afternoon as we now turned south over Iloilo Strait towards Guimaras Island. The plane then slid left and made a complete 180-degree turn as it pointed its nose at Iloilo. I looked over the verdant green landscape of rural Panay, the small settlements bracketing meandering rivers.

My relaxed feeling was slowly replaced by a certain level of anxiety: what if my friend doesn’t show up - no guarantees here. What do I do? Just have a taxi take me to some hotel in an unfamiliar city? Holy cow - I didn’t have my Lonely Planet with me! I had always been careful to line up rides rather than just hail taxis by myself in the Philippines. Always maintain a low profile.

For some reason PAL pilots like to charge onto the runway at Iloilo Airport. A rough and long landing, it seemed we were going too fast when we touched down. The sun was peaking through broken clouds as the plane came to a halt and we descended onto the tarmack and walked to the modest Iloilo terminal. It was hot - hotter than in Manila and I immediately broke into a sweat. As we entered the terminal and waited for the luggage I looked through the windows in front to see if I could locate my friend. Nope.

It was extremely hot inside the terminal. There were several large air conditioners blowing cool air but others already stood in front of these. A crowd had gathered outside; relatives, friends, taxi drivers, and perhaps people with nothing better to do. I strained to see my friend but no luck. I tried to avoid eye contact with those staring at me from outside

After some 20 minutes the luggage showed up and, finding mine, I drifted back to the windows again. I was reluctant to go outside without making contact with my friend first. After awhile, I was the only one standing inside and incredibly there was still a throng of people out there. Who could they be and who are they waiting for? Why are there so many? Where’s my friend? Finally, I had to step outside. Fear gripped me as I wondered what would happen if my friend didn’t show up. Although I had my cell phone with me I made a classic mistake by allowing it to go low-bat. I tried to call my friend but no luck.

Immediately, I was approached by several guys who asked me if I needed a ride. I said no, thanks. They persisted. Others came up to me and soon I was encircled. I tried to look for my friend but to no avail. These guys continued to ask me where I was going, if I needed a ride, and on and on. Very makolit. Well, I thought, my life is no longer in my hands.

There I was with a Samsonite suitcase and Benjamin Franklin glasses looking quite the American tourist. I thought about going back into the terminal but a uniformed guard standing there seemed to suggest it wasn’t a good idea.

I finally became upset and said firmly, “I DON’T NEED A RIDE! HINDI PO, SALAMAT!“ My mind stopped functioning as emotion completely took over.

And then she was there! The crowd gathered around me parted as she spoke in Hiligaynon, calmly, yet firmly. Sweat poured down my face as we headed off towards the waiting Toyota van.

Well, that was quite a range of emotions I had run through, from Manila Domestic Airport to Iloilo. I sat back in the van, feeling the coolness of the aircon, and once again began to relax. “You ok, Gray?” someone asked. I just burst out laughing!

End of part 1

Graham Payne is a high tech consultant who does business between California’s Silicon Valley and the Philippines.