Oslob: The hugot experience

18 July 2016

Dear Butanding,

I hope this letter finds you well in your little corner out at sea.

First of all, let me tell you that I loved you for all that you are - gray skin, spots, gills and all. You are simply amazing to look at. It's true what they had said during the tourist briefing; you are indeed a gentle giant.

I really did want to meet you. I wouldn't have travelled more than four hours alone in a public bus if I didn't. 

But at first, I had my hesitations. 

Should I just watch you from the safety of the boat? Or would I dare go into the water and get close to you?

I've heard from other friends' stories that a whaleshark is about the size of a bus. There is a reason why pedestrians aren't supposed to cross EDSA - we don't want head-on collisions with public buses.

Though undecided, I still paid for the higher rate of the snorkelling fee. I was prepared to throw in the extra 200 pesos as a donation to the whaleshark conservation cause if I ended up chickening out in the middle of the sea.

After about five minutes of sitting on the boat, I saw you rise out of the water, your big mouth wide open to take in the food that the boatman from the other boat threw in your direction, precisely to coax you out of hiding.

What the heck, I've already gone this far; I might as well just go for the whole experience.

I called out to the guide: "Kuya, pwede rin ba akong bumaba kahit di ako marunong lumangoy?"

"Pwede, ma'am." Then he proceeded to give me instructions on how to safely get off the boat. He wanted me to let go of the boat's outrigger because "Naka-life vest ka naman, ma'am." Of course, I didn't let go. Hahaha.

I still felt like how an inverted turtle would feel when taken out of the water. I swear, the struggle was real. But there were no more panic attacks and no more diva screaming and tantrums this time. Yes, Matet, I have significantly levelled up from that Bohol snorkelling escapade. All thanks to Myma's swimming lessons from which, though I didn't learn to swim unaided by floating devices, I had at least learned to manage my fear of the water.

When I relaxed myself though, as I ought to do in the water, I was able to position my body appropriately. Snorkelling gear on, I dipped my head and through my mask, I saw your gray spotted body. Wow, what a big tail you got! You're really one ginormous fish!

Maybe it's because you're about four meters away anyway or maybe because I was confident that you have no taste for human meat (Based on my research, whalesharks eat plankton.), I just wasn't scared of you at all.

I went underwater (or at least my face did) a few more times to look at you. I didn't have an underwater camera so no selfies for me to keep. In any case, you'll be in my memory for life, you know that.

And you also know that I loved you. You've made one of my dreams come true.

But...

You remind me too much of my ex - my past EXperiences. Of my not-so-privileged childhood when we had to use the pail and tabo to take a bath because our house had no shower (and no water heater at that). The last time I had to endure such an inconvenience was many years ago, during my senior year in the university when we had our immersion and I stayed with a family at a relocation site where there was no proper plumbing set up for the community. That was a free homestay - not an overpriced room in an inn. But, by Barangay Tanaw-an, Oslob standards, I guess that was as good an accommodation as I can get. With helpful innkeepers to boot. 

You and I - I don't think we can have a future together. Believe me, it's not you. It's me. I want different things and those things do not include living a provincial life in a barangay where the nearest mall and hospital are not near at all and the travel time to the city is almost four hours.

It's enough that I - we - had this one chance. Thank you. 

I have to say goodbye now. And that I won't be coming back anytime soon. 

Sincerely wishing for your happiness, even if it is in the company of someone new,

Geebee

One chance