Bohol Files 3: The Tarsier

photo by DALE DIAZ

This part of our trip was a little sad.  We saw this little guy right on the Loboc riverbank. I've seen photos of tarsiers perched on shoulders and arms before and I'm glad that human beings are no longer allowed to touch them. They feel totally traumatized, actually, and there are stories about them banging their heads to induce death because of all the stress tourism brings. That's just heartbreaking.

There was a baby tarsier where we were and the poor thing was just curled up and huddled, all alone on a branch.  I could feel his fear so I told the kids to go quietly into the next hub where the adults were. On the upside, the tarsiers are free to roam. Their caretakers say they always come back, but I'm not sure that is a measure of their health or happiness.

Our guide said that they are not endangered. He claims the reports are false and the tarsiers are still everywhere.  His tone suggested that all the new guidelines about the care of tarsiers are a bit over the top. My experience with them tells me the opposite. Wouldn't it be kinder to just let them be so that future generations can flourish in the wild again?

Bohol Files 2: The ATV Experience

photo by DALE DIAZ

Anything that requires helmets has never been my thing. I thought about that as I painstakingly navigated my very first ATV (all-terrain vehicle) through the Bohol countryside.  It occurred to me, out in the middle of nowhere, that my automatic shunning of any activity that needs head gear might be traced to the death of a much loved uncle, one of my mother’s favorite cousins. 

Tito Benny was young, warm, funny, and father to gorgeous twins.  As a child, I remember the bottomless grief that surrounded us during his funeral and the strange siren sound that filled the chapel on the last day. It was his widow’s wail--an ethereal sound I will forever associate with pure pain. That was my first lesson on loss and it was a hard one.

But our children lead us to untold destinations and on this particular trip, my boys brought me to this place of reckoning:  a vehicle that required a helmet.  I suppose it can be described as a motorcycle with four wheels and that gives some kind of consolation when that’s all you have on your side. I tried to scan the place for any other kind of vehicle that didn’t require me to learn a new skill or don the dreaded metal head wrap, but the only tandem ride they had was under repair.  I wasn’t about to lose sight of my boys or hand them over blindly to the locals just because I didn’t like the idea of helmets and rides.  So, at the ripe middle age of 44, I donned a smelly helmet and got on the thing with wheels.

The first thing they make you do is drive the ATV on a little practice trail. Of course I drove straight into the grass and knocked down a wooden pole;  I forgot that brakes are useful things.  You press them and then you stop, hopefully before you destroy property or body parts. I use my feet for brakes, but for this particular vehicle, that doesn’t work. Once I got my hard-wired brain around that detail, I was okay. D thinks I held everyone up with my lack of speed and skill, but I don’t think it matters. Our boys had a grand time. No one else complained.  All they care about is that they got to drive their own ATVs. I saw a lot of butterflies on the way, too, and I don’t think anyone who zips through life for the sake of speed sees all the lovely details. I did.

So I finally did the helmet-and-wheels combo, but I did not forget to take in the sights, the lush and lovely Bohol countryside, its mud and manure, but also the birds, butterflies and dragonflies, the children who waved at us, unaware of the threshold I was crossing, and the grandmother who flashed me a smile of solidarity.


I'm thankful that the helmet, ATV and I had a life-giving experience.  It made me remember Tito Benny and his wonderful laugh.

Bohol Files 1: The Ananyana

D and I took our four boys on our first ever summer trip together.  At first I explored bringing them to Misibis Bay but the cost was so prohibitive and went against my goal of showing them how to travel simply. We checked out several resorts, but in the end we went for this little 12-room resort on Panglao Island, The Ananyana. We loved it.

I love that it isn't a concrete structure, but a series of huts that blend with nature. It's simple and nicely done.  The resort is over a decade old and could do with some sprucing up, but the rooms are still clean and comfortable.

D and I took a regular room. We put our boys in a family room.  The upstairs area of their room could use renovating. Though I appreciate the capiz doors and windows, there were holes in them that were taped over. They ought to repair that or change the finishing.  Our room had plain white walls which gave the room a welcome brightness.  Our boys, who like to read, could have used some of that.  We asked for better reading lamps for them instead, which the staff readily provided.

I don't know about you but I like to be able to fully close the bathroom door.  Our bathroom had swing type little doors that belong more to a bar in a Western; it didn't give much privacy.  The kids had a large floor to ceiling curtain as their bathroom door, which gave some coverage but still not enough privacy.  That would probably be the one thing I would change.  It would also be nice if all resorts started using earth-friendly soaps, shampoos, cleaners, etc.  This one uses Safeguard.  On the upside, I discovered that Safeguard removes mud stains! Whoa! Still, I doubt it's good for earth, foliage or sea. Other than that, we were all more than comfortable and enjoyed the simplicity and charm of the place.

I loved the hammocks.  The minute I saw them I knew I came to the right place. There are 5 of them in all.  Even the kids enjoyed them.  They spent a lot of time reading and swaying in the breeze. Sarap!! No beach trip is complete without the requisite "duyan" and I love Ananyana for making sure they had it.

The service is good. We got to know our waiters Coro and Danny and one of the boat men, Eric, and the very helpful manager, Ruela. We joked that they might have thrown a party after we left because we had so many requests. They made every effort to grant them. I asked for my meals without rice, but with a salad instead. We asked for fresh juices without sugar. The menu could use more good salads with lots more greens,  because you start to look for variety if you're staying in a lot and for more than 3 days (we stayed 5 nights). We love the place anyway! And we loved it even more when we discovered there were no TV sets in the rooms. YES!! They have a small one near the dive shop with dvds to rent and the kids enjoyed Yogi Bear one afternoon. But that was it. 

One of the reasons we chose the resort is its proximity to the beach.  Though the water is very, very shallow for a long stretch,  you can rent the resort boat to bring you to deeper waters for better swimming and great snorkeling. We booked tours through the resort and they were well organized and priced very well. 

The kids want to go back and D. and I wouldn't mind it either. It's harder and harder to find little places that are simple, clean, comfortable, nice and well run. The Ananyana is one such place.  If you're thinking of visiting Bohol, make sure you check it out.

Oh, Maria!

What words are there? I was very sad to hear about the end of Maria Shriver's marriage because I thought theirs was the kind that endured. Days after, girlfriends and I shuddered at what was yet to come. True enough, the cat is out of its sordid bag.

The level of untruth and betrayal is astounding. That the woman with whom Arnold Schwarzenegger had a child was a trusted housekeeper for 20 years makes it all the more cruel. Half that time, she must have interacted with Maria Shriver and her children on a daily basis. Lord, she must have been carrying that baby in her belly in plain view of the family day in and day out. That is just so twisted.

On the surface it seems valiant of Schwarzenegger to say he deserves to be mistreated, but please, not his family. Well, he should have thought of all that before. The truth is the minute he crossed THAT threshold, he tore his family apart and made them vulnerable to the world. That was all his doing. And what of the little son?

Deception leaves too many casualties in its wake.

I wrote before that truth, no matter how painful, gives you choice. If he had come clean when it happened, might there have been a chance? Maybe not for the marriage, but for Maria to have created her own path simply because she could see the terrain clearly. But her husband kept it from her, obviously as an act of self-preservation. He came clean only after he stepped down from office. What a coward and a loser. He selfishly took years from her life. That is unforgivable.

I keep wondering why it's so difficult for men to keep their pants on. Is it not enough to think of their children? Clearly, it's never enough to think of their wives. But the kids. The kids and their inevitable heartbreak ought to be enough to pause and zip up. Really. And if not, then do the next best thing and man up!!! Tell the truth. It just makes life that much more bearable for all. Truth gives everyone dignity, and that is the first thing you take away from people you lie to. You make a mistake, fine, but offer the next best thing and come clean. Give the people you love and who have loved you selflessly, the right to choose the next step. They can only do that if they can see the full picture.

On the upside, I believe Maria will soar. Now that there is only truth around her, this courageous woman will sprout wings and be able to achieve so much more than she already has. My heart goes out to her, but I am so excited for the mark she will yet leave on the world.

YOU GO GIRL.

Another Great Virtual Event

The power of Sophia! Great women doing wonderful work towards transformation and it's all free. YAY!!! Make sure you register!

A New World

I have been spending a lot of time doing online courses and taking advantage of free webcasts that have to do with the planetary shift that we are clearly going through.  The frequency of earthquakes and natural disasters that wipe out entire towns, ending lives, foisting crisis upon crisis on humanity as we know it today, tells me that the shift is real and it is now. Others call it the Apocalypse, but I prefer The Shift. Anyone who lives consciously will know it's real.

Apart from world events, there seem to be pockets of violence and unrest alarmingly near us. I read about them in the papers, like our kababayans who are in death row as I write this, the recent wave of uproar over the treatment of a little boy on local television, the Senate hearings and our actions and reactions to it, murders, breaches of trust and security in our own neighborhoods--these are all part of this planetary movement that is bringing us to a place of greater human evolution.

There is a very involved online course coming up for those of you who are interested in being active participants in this shift.  I share it now if you are able and interested:





You can also listen to Barbara Marx Hubbard's teleseminar, Birth 2012: Co-creating a Planetary Shift,which is a great introduction to the course and gives a fantastic picture of the shift and how you can participate in it.

Times are changing and though there is much death, destruction and fear, there is a way through that is coherent, positive, life-changing and life-giving, where we can be agents of this change rather than passive victims of seemingly random events.

Isn't it wonderful that we have a choice?

Anybody Home?

I wrote this in May, 2002, but my good friend, Jeannie, recently asked for a copy.  It's still relevant. I hope you enjoy it. Thanks for asking, Jeannie!

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I spend a lot of time emailing and texting.  At first glance, these electronic devices seem to be the best inventions of our time, but zoom in and they start to look like frighteningly inhuman substitutes for communication.  Email and text hasten the pace of life in a way that seems unnatural, even unnecessary.  Worse, I feel this type of communication is creating a new dimension in human relationships that is built on virtual space; where, in places of isolation, feelings of warmth and conviviality are cleverly mimicked and carelessly traded.

I often sit in front of my laptop and gape at the nature and content of letters I get from total strangers. The Internet seems to unleash a side of us that is completely unafraid to swap intimacies because, without a human witness, we feel protected--uncharacteristically bold—free to say things we normally wouldn’t; as if the things we say online and via text are not things we are completely responsible for but words we can let loose and then hide behind.

I know I am guilty of the same crime; that I have crossed boundaries I should not have.  I know that I have also fallen for the false illusion of intimacy and privacy from this one-dimensional screen that seems to have enticed an entire population to engage in virtual familiarity.  It has become too easy to start a correspondence with people you don’t know and then think you have genuine friendships going.  Pretty soon you expect certain names to appear in your mailbox and start to feel anxious when a day (horrors, a full day!) passes without so much as a forwarded joke from your newfound buddies.

Email and text operate on a whole new dimension of time, not unlike the tenuous world of credit where transactions are made upon the idea of money.  We can be with so many people simultaneously: discussing our children with their teachers, exchanging silly jokes with a friend, flirting with our boyfriends, commiserating with a sister—most likely when we are stuck in traffic en route to a real time, face-to-face appointment.  I wonder where this is taking human relationships. I worry about what it does to the natural rhythm of the human soul.

The only person, as far as I know, who has written anything about it is Robert Sardello in his book, “Freeing the Soul From Fear”:  The Internet, for example, seems to be a revolutionary technical achievement. No one thus far, however, has developed the imagination to look at it in terms of its impact on soul life.  While the Internet is touted as the greatest tool of communication since printing, it may well be a kind of double of communication.  Look at how much is erased by relating in cyberspace.  The body is excluded, the nuances of speaking eliminated, the importance of what is left unsaid, gone.  E-mail, for example, is not at all like writing a letter.  E-mailing is typically done in haste.  We expect an immediate answer. Communication has more or less been reduced to the transfer of information.

I think Sardello’s thoughts are worthy of an in-depth study on how email and text are transforming the ways in which we communicate and how that affects our relationships.  Electronic communication (the way people have come to depend on it) definitely has an impact on soul life—one that I perceive to be limiting, debilitating, life-extracting.  This one-dimensional communication allows us to enjoy a false sense of union with another yet frees us from the usual involvement and responsibility that real, life-nourishing relationships require.  Has anyone stopped to measure its price?

So much is lost in virtual communication; so much given away.  I know people who have shared intimacies online that cannot be duplicated in person, precisely because it is so glaringly one-dimensional. Most of the time it’s about projecting your feelings, mood, desires, emotions on another because you are the only living being in that space at that particular point in time.  The exchange, if it can be called that, is half-imagined.  All you have are words. Because you are accustomed to so much more, the tendency to let your own interpretation supply the rest is overpowering.

A friend was talking about a bad fight he had with his ex-wife.  He described her text.  Then his. Then the total misinterpretation party they had that inevitably ended in a shouting match.  They had completely misread each other’s one-dimensional responses, assigning malice where there might have been none; inviting the full force of years of resentment to ride on imagined venom. There’s the danger.  If you are of a certain mindset or emotional state, that flat screen can be a portal into communication hell.

It shouldn’t be a surprise then, that when you see someone you know mainly onscreen, you feel you are in front of a stranger, no matter how long and involved the emails you’ve exchanged. The gap between the person you imagined and the one before you is overwhelmingly vast. How many words would you have chosen not to say if you had that person before you as you typed your texts or emailed messages?  Quite a few I bet. You would have listened, watched and added the gestures, pauses, shifts and sighs into a comprehensive whole, before choosing to say something or nothing at all. 

Never mind those of us who have experienced a world before email and text. I worry more for the children and teenagers who are growing up with these electronic substitutes almost surgically attached to their fingertips.  I wonder what it is doing to their relationships, their ability to deal with people; to read, discern and judge their own feelings and those of the people in their lives.  I wonder about the long-term effects on their social development. I fear it is fragmenting their already fragile souls at a most confusing time in their lives; in this crucial time in humanity when we are being called, more than ever, to strive towards wholeness.

I’d like to think this is yet another challenge for us to be present; to make sure we are aware and alert behind the wheel. I suppose the trick is to cultivate a keen sense of who and where we are and what our purpose is, especially when we begin to lose ourselves in the rhythm of our keypads.  It is important that we take the lead; that we are not sucked into the dark by the electronic undertow; that we do not rely on these machines for the cultivation of friendship and love.  It might be helpful to remind ourselves that email and text are mere devices; conveniences not to be abused. 

The only human relationships that stand a chance in this world are those born and nurtured in human spaces, where expressions can be read and met with real-time responses.  Nothing can take the place of tenderness mirrored in the eyes of a beloved, a hint of imperfect smile, a reassuring touch on a tear-muddied cheek.

Next time you lose your phone or can’t retrieve your mail, relax. Flex your fingers, hold hands, look into someone’s eyes.  Take your soul out for a walk. It might be a great day yet.