If You're Ever in El Nido (Philippines), Go To 5 S' Country Store (Part 1 of 2)

Rain, Wash, Repeat= ADM (Anger Disgust Monotony)

A mixture of anger, disgust, and monotony filled my heart.

This vile mixture became difficult to avoid after 9 days.

My right thumb pointed away from the South China Sea, towards the peak of Mount Darala.

My right middle finger curled up 6 inches above my right index finger. The veins beneath each finger jumped out of their skin.

My right Polock's middle finger (4th finger) mimicked my right index finger.  My right pinkie held air-borne above my palm.  The veins on the left side collapsed in defeat.

I skipped the drama on my left hand. I directly clenched my fist.

My teeth grinded hard enough to make my gums bleed. I noticed the grinding. I changed
 to a nervous over-bite on my left bottom lip.

I flexed both arms like I was holding a 200 pound curl bar. I pulled my clenched left fist (anger & disgust), and my right half-clenched fist (monotony)  towards the muddy and uneven ground beneath my 100 peso ($3USD) flip-flops.

I wanted to scream , "FUCK!!" I reminded myself not to complain about petty shit like the weather on my vacation on a tropical island. I fought off the urge to burst out with a "FUCK!!"  I noticed two bamboo huts within my direct vicinity. Each bamboo hut sold groceries. The bamboo hut on my left offered shelter.

The straw from the roof extended into my standing space. My hands rested tightly at my sides. My shoulders arched towards the sun (that I hadn't seen in 9 days). I cocked my head to the straw roof above me again. I wondered if the wind could take not only this bamboo hut to the top of Mt. Darala in a tumble towards the sky. I also wondered if the wind could take my new friend Sandra (the owner of the bamboo hut) and I with it towards the sky.

The warmth of not being wet (for the first time in 9 days) and the straw roof above my head held off the shivers. More importantly, the warmth of this woman Sandra's personality  lured me to stay and eat. Sandra only stood about  5 foot 1. Sandra had a great smile.

A clear plastic container rested on the table in front of my eyes. The plastic container held four rows of snacks. I couldn't have eaten these snacks after I ran a Half Iron Man race in 103 degree heat. My dog may have even turned down the snacks..

 While I was standing there, in the rain, I only saw two rows of snacks. The other two rows looked so disgusting that I thought they were empty.

I wanted to avoid my 9th straight day of getting pounded in the middle of a torrential downpour. I noticed an escape route. The instant noodles on top of her plastic container needed to be cooked.  I also noticed no pot inside the bamboo hut. This meant I could stand underneath the roof of her hut for at least 15 minutes to avoid one more beating from the rain. After I ordered the seafood instant noodles, Sandra invited me inside this shelter. At last, I was reprieved from the rain.

If It's Dry: Walk ON!!

I tip-toed to the back of Sandra's little country store. I took each step 5 seconds apart from the last step. I ensured I stayed underneath the remaining ceiling.  I did not want to cross wet ground again. I did not want another drop of rain water to touch my shoulders, my head, my  t-shirt, my bag, none of it. I did not want to even hear another drop of rain. My slow steps represented my left clenched fist (anger & disgust)

Before whacking my head off the 2.5 foot high back door to this bamboo hut, the morning started with hope and promise. I joked with Sandra that us Damn Americans are too big.  The morning did not start with the sky unleashing liquid fury upon me for the 9th day in a row.

The roosters cackled in front, in back, and in the side of  house 4 at Malapacao (Bamboo)  Cottage, This herd of roosters converged on my 7:00 a.m. sleeping time.  The early wake up did not anger me. I did not event want  to toss a midget (without a safe landing space) Today, I woke up in Coron, Coron, Palawan (Philippines) Nothing could be bad enough to make me go unsafe midget tossing.

With cackling roosters and hope for a dry minute today, I uncovered the top left corner of my mosquito net. I sleep like a train wreck. I usually wake up with all 4 corners of my bed cover uncovered and crumbled into a ball around my naked body. A sweat ring also sticks to my back.  It pleased me to know I could sleep that calmly inside this bamboo cottage.  It amazed me to see the mosquito net above my bed in tact. Outside, a dry moment occurred. It had been raining almost 24-7 for the past 8 days. I wanted to act fast on this break from the rain.

My un-shoed feet dropped from the bed, onto the bamboo floor. The inside temperature remained cool enough for a blanket, and warm enough for no shirt.

I dusted the sand  from the white border of my TOP English camp (blue) t-shirt. With my shirt on, I advanced 3 steps forward. I opened the door of house 4 at Malapacao Cottages.  The roosters stopped their cackling noises outside house 4. I couldn't hear any traffic coming . The porch hammock outside house 4 invited me  for a nap. The gray skies above further enticed a desire for nap 1 of the day.  My brain still fogged from the half of bottle of rum I shared last night with the Malapacao Cottage staff.

I fought off the urge to return to bed (in the hammock) The hill side beneath me held the pristine blue waters of the South China Sea.  I gazed at an abundance of bamboo huts, families outside of them, tricycles resting before a day's duty, litter, mud, and an ass load of trees that weren't blowing off warning signals of an incoming bombardment of rain.

The gray sky mixed well with a tint of blue. I didn't shower. I didn't wait for breakfast. I slipped into my flip flops. My toes made it into my flip flops without touching the muddy grass below them.  I couldn't wait any longer in this moment of dry. I decided to wander the roughly 10km into town (El Nido) My 8 day crash diet of french fries and rum & cokes needed an injection of exercise.

Too buzzed (still) for a hangover, my feet danced an akward stagger in an unknown direction.  I reached the front gate of Malapacacao Cottage. With Bao Bao the street dog there to greet me, I popped the gate and wandered without a plan. I only cared about this moment of dry,.

The mud often slimed and oozed my flip flops. The mud often kicked from the back of my flip flops to the back of my t-shirt. I felt the annoyance. I still could not pin point it.

Bao Bao the street dog stayed inside the gate. He wanted to use his paws to dance the awkward stagger with me (definitely).

A half a bottle of cheap Filipino rum circulated through my blood stream.  The walk from the cottage to the road could still make me question humanity.

A lady (mid 30's) rested her 2 year old child on top of a cardboard box. The lady used a kitchen pot to dump water on her 2 year old child's head as she washed his hair. I noticed a guy (mid 20's) sitting in the middle of a pile of cement blocks (on his right and left), with a tin shack that somehow formed a triangle. The guy ( mid 20's) called the tin shack the roof to his house.

Somehow, the makeshift community did not have a vibe of disease and sadness. I comprehended that they just existed with less.

I finally got down to the street. The street presented me with two options. Option #1 was to keep using my two paws to dance awkwardly towards the South China Sea, and spend the morning at the beach. Option #2 was to stumble right, and walk approximately 10 km into the town of El Nido. I love more than anything to wonder. I chose Option #2

Option #2 took me onto the road towards El Nido. The width of the road extends like any normal road in your country. The similarities in roads stopped there. The road towards El Nido compared more to random sections of sidewalk, with a lot of dirt, potholes, and occasionally a man walking with his water buffalo.

With Option #2, the wind blew from north to south. I walked from south to north. The wind did not hurt me. The wind did not threaten me. The wind only cooled me, and the toxins ,from the half bottle of rum trying to exit my blood stream. I did not sweat.

My feet floated along the top of the muddy street.  My left shoulder started to bob first, and my head slightly nodded yes. After 8 days of losing the battle with the rain, I could finally strut. I finally felt a bit of relief. My former coworker Bonnie, called this the "Josh Strut." The half bottle of cheap Filipino rum aided the "Josh Strut."

Suddenly, the clouds swallowed up the remaining blue in the sky. It reminded me 10 years ago of the Euro chomping up the power of my American dollars. The quiet sounds of the air transformed to chaos. I could see gray skies, rain clouds, and those damn trees starting to blow again.  I heard the trees cockback with insurmountable amounts of power. I had only walked about 500 meters in this moment of dry. The fucking rain started up again.

My feet stopped the awkward dancing. My feet no longer floated above the mud. My feet sprinted towards my new friend, Sandra.


To be continued....

Next time, learn about the birth of 5S' Country Store

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