Estrella Falls

I read Jeffrey Eugenides' Middlesex during our time in Palawan. I buried myself in the novel every chance I could, and when a moment called for social interaction, I coyly stole glances and feigned listening. Later, I would bring to book along with me snorkeling in El Nido. If I could have thought up a way to keep it dry underwater, I would have. About the only place I couldn't read was inside a moving van. We three couples rented one and an accompanying chauffeur our second day in Puerto Princesa. Instead of pressing my luck with an inevitable bout of car sickness, I put the book down and enjoyed the scenery of The Philippines' largest province as we ambled along toward Estrella Falls.

I am not certain who first heard of the falls, or how we came about making the decision to go there. We had planned on boat touring a river famous for its night firefly watching, and must have figured that the park at Estrella Falls would be a great place to wait out the day.

After a quick group picture in front of the welcome sign, we walked down a short path to the river. A stout and powerfully bursting waterfall was heard coming from our left. Its overflow sent the stream moving lazily down toward a series of natural swimming pools. A group of local kids swam in the shallowest and furthest from the falls. On the other side of the bank, a group of long tailed macaque, the only monkeys that live in The Philippines, watched attentively, having long ago learned that with swimmers comes tossed or forgotten food scraps. We waded in, intent on feeding and observing our furry cousins. I threw pieces of bread leftover from snorkeling and a local gave Tor a banana to try his luck with. The monkeys were apprehensive, and it soon became apparent that an alpha-male was set on recovering every thrown item. When a female or smaller monkey crept toward the treat, the fat, bearded alpha male would sprint toward it and unleash a violent grunt and subsequent swipe. The smaller, stricken primate would then squeal and bolt. We amused ourselves by throwing scraps directly at the meek creatures to the extreme left and right of the alpha male, and he dizzied himself running to and fro. Eventually everyone ate.

Ben and I set off to antagonize the monkeys

A group of locals occupied a covered picnic area above the pool where the monkeys loitered. They must have been impressed with the way we toyed with the alpha-male because they invited us up to join their party. Either that, or they were just wanting to chat up some foreigners.

The cast of characters included two brothers who handled all of the English for the group- one gray-haired, one immensely bellied, both browned, bare chested and drunk. They drank Red Horse beer, which I have since dubbed sleepyjuice from its high alcohol content.

Like all of the Filipinos we encountered on our trip, the brothers and their families were kind and welcoming. I struck up a conversation with the fat one, meaning I smiled, nodded profusely, and pretended that I could understand more than the 40 or so percent I did. Apparently he is a security worker and he wants his daughter to go to college in the US, where he could follow her, get work, and keep prospective boyfriends on their toes.

Our hosts invited us to partake in their feast, the showpiece being lechon, a suckling pig that had been roasted over an open fire. I wasn't too shy to flake of a piece of crunchy ear and accept a plateful of this most delicious pork from the oversized and overprotective security guard. As he hacked away, wet pieces of hot pig flew and landed on his chest where it stayed- he being too drunk or too proud to notice and I with no intention of calling him out.

Picking at the lechon.

Hacking away

Other served national delicacies included dinuguan, a kind of pork blood stew with tripe and other parts of the pig I could not define. It was black with lots of hot green peppers. It was spicy, savory and left a satisfying coat of fat on my teeth and upper palate that no amount of sleepyjuice could wash away. I feel I must have eaten more than I should have for I paid for it with the early morning arrival of skitters. For dessert we had a casserole of glutinous rice with sugar, and coconut milk topped with cheese and bacon. They gave me a big hunk of it wrapped in cellophane to take home.

Filipino dessert

 After peeling ourselves away from the overwhelming generosity of our new friends, we moved upstream and explored another of the cool wading pools. Clusters of shadows darted about the clear water, made jungle green by the reflection of the trees. Upon closer inspection, we learned that these were schools of tiny fish. We put on our goggles for a closer look and fed them bread crumbs from our hands. Later, we fed them from the bank, squatting down to get close to the surface, dropping the bread and quickly swiping the feeding fish onto the rocks. The technique worked surprisingly well. Convincing Sami to swallow one whole did not.

Fishing

Got one!

While we fished, the group of youngsters we came across earlier busied themselves on a rope swing. Naturally, I decided to give it a try. I climbed on top of an opposing boulder while one of the locals handed me the wet rope. I realized mid-swing that my size was going to cause some problems. Having attempted to hold on for maximum clearance, I failed to release at the apex, and soon came barreling backward toward wall of unforgiving stone. Luckily, I released at the last possible moment during the return swing and avoided injury.

This is the point I should have let go

Finally, we retreated toward a viewing spot overlooking the waterfall. The rush of water provided the perfect white noise to relax to, and our monkey friends stayed back a the opposite end allowing peace. We each picked out a spot to nap and read and I could finally get back to that book I was so into.