Witch Doctors, Waterfalls, and Cockfights- By Brian

 

We’d been cruising in what I like to call the Triangle of Safety for about a month.  This is an area extending from Bohol, down south to Southern Negros, and then east to Siquijor.  Here in the Philippines you can have Typhoons any time of the year.  This in itself is a scary thought but it’s not the Typhoons that worry me.  They don’t really happen too often this time of the year.  It’s the tropical storms and depressions that can roll through anytime leaving a path of destruction in their wake.  We’re talking massive winds and rains that uproot trees and destroy houses.  It’s the triangle of safety because the protected anchorage of Bonbonon in Tomolol is never more than a days sail away.  If any rough weather is on the horizon just pull up the hook and high-tail it to Bonbonon!  We had to do this twice over the past few weeks.

We tried to get to Apo Island off the coast of Negros three times.  Each time we failed and were defeated by incoming weather, big waves, and nasty currents.  Seriously, on one trip we took a wave over the bow so big the entire deck was awash for a few moments.  This happens very rarely in Delos.  So, with the weather conspiring against us we figured Apo Island wasn’t meant to be.  We diverted course on our last attempt for Siquijor to seek shelter which turned out to be an awesome adventure!

Begin Adventure:

I opened my eyes to see a dirty white pillow case and sheet set.  The bed is much too small and my legs are hanging over at the knees but it’s still strangely comfortable.  There’s a chubby, dark haired woman chanting incomprehensibly while rubbing smelly oils and leaves on my back.  To make things even weirder out of the corner of my eye I spot a Preying Mantis creeping along to join in on the action.  Just a moment ago he fell from the roof and dropped onto my back.  I’ve got more important matters to think about though- these magic leaves are getting HOT.  Almost as if someone has splashed a whole bottle of Tiger Balm on my back.  Smells the same too.  Just as the burning sensation is almost unbearable it subsides.  Cool, the active ingredient in Tiger Balm grows somewhere in her yard!

I was in a hut in the village of San Antonio, which is in the mountains at the top of Siquijor island in the Visayas, Philippines.  It’s an island known for voodoo, hoodoo, and all sorts of weird shit (to quote Captain Ron).  If it’s witch doctors and healers you’re in search of this is the place.  Earlier that morning my Swedish traveling companions Michael and Helena had struck out with me on a mission.  We’d heard from locals that  this was the place to investigate strange practices so we rented scooters, topped up with gasoline, and headed for the jungular mountains.  Everyone we talked to thought we were nuts- why would we voluntarily go up there where the spirits roamed?  It was much smarter to stay away- and lounge at the beach.

We stopped at random houses along the way to get more precise directions.  General pointing and arm movements led us up and up along the winding jungle roads and through the hills.  At each stop we were coerced into taking shots of Coconut Arrack, which is fermented coconut wine.  Apparently no one will point you in the right direction unless you have a shot with them.  Fair enough, it was Sunday Drunk Day after all.  In the Philippines it seems everyone in small villages dedicates Sunday to either A) Praying to the Lord OR B) Getting completely wasted on Tanduay Rum or Coconut Arrack.  Most often A turns into B anyway……  Hence our nickname of Sunday Drunk Day.

We found a creepy looking hut that our previous inebriated friend had described to us.   In the dirt yard the chickens and dogs were locked in a territorial dispute while snotty nosed naked children took turns beating each other with whipping sticks.  Yep, this seems about right I thought.  Even though the scene was a bit weird I thought it was rather fitting for the adventure so approached a group of village dwellers sleeping on mats under a massive tree.

After explaining what I was after and a few discussions amongst themselves in a dialect I think only they knew I was led into the hut by the woman of the group.  The hut was part bamboo and part rough-hewn wood from the local forest.  There was a smoke filled kitchen with an open fire, some boiling pots, and a family of chickens roosting on the floor.  Next to that a tiny bedroom with four single beds, and a room containing  a TV, some vials on shelves, a few home-made cross necklaces, and a bare wooden chair directly in the center.  On the walls were children’s cursive lessons in English.  I’ve seen some weird stuff before but even this gave me the creeps.

I was wrapped in a white sheet and given a fairly decent neck and shoulder massage by my host.  Just as I was about to wise crack about how I wanted my haircut her companion walked in swinging a metal bucket filled with something on fire in one hand, and a foot high Virgin Mary statue in the other.  Interesting…..  Before I could protest both the statue and burning bucket were placed under my chair.  With the sheet wrapped tightly around me smoke billowed out everywhere and I was basically smoked like a piece of meat for about 20 minutes.  At the same time the woman walked around my chair chanting, praying,and generally ranting in the same dialect I’d heard before.  Every now and then I could understand a word like spirit, demon, and Amen.  That’s about it though.  When she was satisfied with her work she let me know I’d been cleansed of all evil spirits and handed me a cup of wicked tasting tea she had brewing in a massive pot in the kitchen.  Apparently it’s made from various jungle woods and plants collected from her yard.  It wasn’t half bad actually, assuming you avoided the unidentifiable chunks you’d see floating around every so often.

I was declared to be healed and told the tea would circulate through my body revitalizing my immune system and continuing to protect me in the future.  I was then led to what I can only imagine was a bed belonging to her child and given my after healing massage session with more smelly oils, the Preying Mantis helper, and the ridiculously hot Tiger Balm leaves.   Total cost for removing any resident spirits, demons, and a massage to boot- about 60 pesos, or $1.30.

Siquijor is not all about black magic and healers though.  It’s truly a beautiful tropical island ringed with white sand beaches and chock full of beautiful waterfalls.  The island doesn’t have an airport (arrival by boat only) so is very laid back and not very touristy at all.  The locals are typically Filipino- with ear to ear smiles and willing to give you the shirt off their back should the need arise.

 

If you want to get really NON-Touristy go to a cockfight.  It’s easy, just ask any guy lounging around where the local cockpit is.  I’d heard lot’s of gory details about these fights to the death but tried not to judge until experiencing it for myself.  Basically the cocks are trained from birth to be big, strong, and generally distempered.  They are treated like royalty getting massages, training, and special meals.  They even get prominent roosts in the yard of their owner.  But, on game day a massive razor sharp blade is strapped to the back of their claw and it’s kill or be killed.  The cocks normally fight by tearing each other up with their back claw, and pecking each other’s eyes out.  With the massive razor blade strapped as an extension of their claw it becomes a truly deadly weapon.  It’s like that Van Dam movie Bloodsport, except with animals.  Death is swift and quick for the loser.

The really disturbing thing is the loser is then fed to the winner.  Not sure if this happens in all venues, but that’s what I was told at this one.  The crowd goes nuts placing bets and lot’s of money is constantly changing hands.  There has been cockfighting in every city and village we’ve visited in the Philippines.  I try not to judge customs and practices that I may not fully understand, but seeing two animals fight to the death is a very intense experience and can definitely turn your stomach.

 

Delos Anchored at Siquijor Island, Visayas, Philippines