In what may be the southernmost market you can find in the Philippines, I met a friend who invited me to his house by the beach. We had some beer much later in the afternoon and that’s when he confided that he had been sizing me up all day wondering whether I was a covert agent sent by the government. I wanted to say that I had been doing the same thing, wondering whether he was somehow connected with the Abu Sayaff.
Instead, I said, “This ocean is strange. It’s so clear and still, it’s difficult to tell where it ended and where the sky began.”
Then we drank some more beer.
(More on this after my seventh and last Palawan installment, and as soon as I recover the rest of what a friend likes to call my “buwis-buhay photos”)