International Living Postcards– your daily escape

Friday, Feb. 16, 2007
Coron Town, Philippines

“I think the engine is shy of the foreigner,” Renejal muttered as he fiddled with the outrigger’s engine. We were in the middle of the gulf, halfway between Coron Town and Coron Island, in a flimsy wooden boat being tossed by the waves. It was the second time the engine had died, and the waves were pushing us toward the open sea. It was also the second time in less than 20 minutes, in the company of the Tagbanua, that my presence had caused shyness and breakdown. The first time–at the pier–Rogelio Aguilar, the chief of Cabugao village and Renejal’s father, had acted in a tetchy and furtive manner when he met us. Averting his gaze, he sheepishly explained to Rose, my girlfriend, in Tagalog: “I am shy of this foreigner, and I have prepared the best bed for you.”

The engine failure was the latest in a long series of delays that had been frustrating our visit to Coron Island for 10 days now. And I was losing patience. The sight of the island–a hulk of cliffs and an interior crowded with mountain domes, all shrouded in dark-green primeval jungle, with moody clouds and trails of mist clinging to the peaks–tantalized me every morning from the window of our guesthouse in Coron Town. I had never seen an island that looked so enigmatic, and the fact that Filipinos thought it was haunted by powerful spirits made it all the more mysterious and compelling. Other tourists visited the two lakes and some beaches on the island in a whirlwind boat tour, but we wanted to visit the inhabitants–the Tagbanua People–on their territory, something no other tourist had done before.

The Tagbanua have full control over Coron Island, which includes receiving visitors at their discretion. You need permission–or someone to invite you–to visit the island. As the Tagbanua are instinctively suspicious of outsiders, this isn’t easy. But I found a way…

Victor Paul Borg
For International Living