Reflecting on Change in a Slow-Paced Filipino Town

AUTHOR: Chok Ivan Jia Xian (Ivan)

‘The only thing constant in life is change.’

Coming up in the middle of a banter-filled, light-hearted conversation with our assigned business owner Graymon, his words nearly came off as unnecessarily serious, a little awkward even. Yet, quoted by a man who has lived a life as flamboyant as it has been filled with challenges, it turned out to be the only thing I can remember vividly from that hour-long conversation.

Essentially, the saying may as well have been a microcosm of Graymon’s life journey. While I will not go into the details, his experience in navigating a conservative Catholic society as a gay man, while managing a salon business with uncertain margins and intensifying competition, makes him the perfect candidate qualified to utter such words. Nothing is decided, what you built today may well vanish without a trace tomorrow; yet, life goes on. And nowhere else have I felt this sentiment as strongly as I have here in Bohol, The Philippines, despite having only been here for a few days.

It is in the crudely-welded tricycles, rattling like a crate of nuts and bolts while struggling in vain to pick up speed; the former seaman who travelled the world, now retired and spending his days tending to an assortment of front yard plants; the murky road signs which have surely seen better days, now utilised by ambitious stray dogs hoping to conquer more territory; the highly betted-upon community basketball games where wins and losses may be as unpredictable as the price fluctuations of Bitcoin, yet love for the sport remains unwavering among the young and the old.

Ironic as it is, staying in this very-Catholic country reminds me of a core Buddhist principle—‘impermanence’. I never know when the water flowing from the toilet faucet would abruptly stop. The bright glow of sunlight reflecting on the calm ocean surface will soon make way for colossal waves conjured up by deadly typhoons. Even the tricycle fare back to our lodging in Tubod Mar is never fixed—one opportunistic driver quoted 500 pesos per head! Life is inherently unpredictable, even more so in the jolly and chaotic community I found here. 

Although I am from Malaysia, a fellow Southeast Asian country, I have never travelled to The Philippines. Worse, there was always this stereotype around the country being unsafe for travellers (though there were indeed a few tragic incidents involving tourists). Hence, when I came across this opportunity, I knew I had to take it. 

What were my expectations before embarking upon this journey? I knew Filipinos were one of the friendliest and most hospitable people in the world—check. We were told during a briefing session that the facilities would be rather rudimentary—check, but I must say it was much easier to get used to than expected. I was half-expecting the business owner to do things rather spontaneously and according-to-mood-or-memory—check. What I did not envision were the many complex and deeply-nuanced stories hiding behind every friendly smile and every excited greeting. Change is omnipresent here in this relatively-unknown corner of the archipelago. 

Our host parents live a simple yet comfortable retired life. The host dad probably has had the more dramatic life, having worked as a maintenance worker on cargo ships that sailed the world over. Dinner was always accompanied by colourful stories about his exploits far and wide in locations such as Cape Town, Hamburg, even Corpus Christi. Assignments were unpredictable, and when they came our host mom would be left waiting at home faithfully for months at a time. I may learn more in the weeks to come, but even now I can imagine how volatile and insecure life could feel to the both of them at times, especially once they had their two children. Today, both son and daughter work and reside far from home, and I believe that although they must miss them dearly and wished they were closer, there must be a sense of satisfaction deep down that despite all the challenges faced, they got what most parents must long for—to see your offspring growing up healthy and standing on their own feet. 

Today, our host dad drives his tricycle as a daytime job, while our host mom tends to her many chores and hangs out with the other aunties in the Barangay. The pace of life has surely decelerated greatly for them, together with the instances of change. But life is always full of surprises. We learned that during earlier editions of the immersion programme, they had always wanted to host students, but did not want to appear overly enthusiastic lest it incited gossip (a valid precaution in a place where people was always saying to me, ‘I’m telling you this about [someone], don’t let them know…’). Now, I’m typing this in the room where their daughter used to sleep, my roommate Adam is in the other room, and both host parents are (probably) soundly asleep in theirs. After meals, our host mom insists on doing the cleaning on her own  (apparently ‘I be the one to do it’ is a common phrase among Tubod Mar aunties, based on personal experience), fortunately I managed to sneak behind her back and wash the dishes on more than one occasion. One other time, Adam and I boarded a tricycle on the way to Jagna town, and the driver turned out to be our host dad! Perhaps insignificant episodes like these make up the vast majority of the changes experienced by them today. This has prompted me to think, if my retirement life looked like this, would I say to myself that I made it? The Filipino sailor glances over at the Hong Kong university student, being forced to navigate an uncertain job market where new technologies emerge every year or so to become the harbinger of unemployment. I personally know a few people who would consider this simple life lived by my host parents to be the dream. 

To remain consistent with the main idea and also to not go out-of-topic, I will come back to the subject of running a business in this part of the world. While change here is less dramatic than multi-billion dollar M&A deals or absurdly-priced IPOs built on distant fantasies (looking at you SpaceX), it impacts the owners greatly nonetheless. I was visiting the Rock Resort this morning, and the student placed there told me how a recent typhoon destroyed several diving facilities and rendered entire rooms unusable. While the owner of this particular business is considered wealthy in the area, how would he have coped with this disaster? Graymon also told us how the opening of a rival salon induced several of his old customers to try it out due to its marked-down prices. In true fashion, when they eventually returned he punished their disloyalty with even higher prices! 

In a place like this, where you can only have so many potential customers, and where news of one bad experience will spread like wildfire, owners have to constantly be on edge and always ready to handle new developments. I hope that in the coming weeks I will learn more about their entrepreneurial spirit, and learn for myself how to handle change.