Houses on Stilts

These are the houses in Sitangkai, Tawi-Tawi. Many of its people are living in the middle of the sea. Houses are clustered. These clustered houses are called Pondohans. The settlers of the Pondohan are mostly relatives, having come from the same place of origin.

During my actual conduct of the sessions, my companions and I live in one of these houses. Pondohans are well-lit at night since most of the households own generator sets, one of their prized possessions next to their usual M16 and M14 rifles, and the gold jewelries worn by women. People call me Kuya, even to those parents obviously older than me. I thank God for I have earned their trust and respect. This is very important in working with other cultures. Never mind the rifles. We have been used to "sleeping" beside them at night. They are our security at work. Hehehe.

Oh yes, there were stormy days and nights. Once, we were caught by a storm while sleeping past 12 midnight. As a non-swimmer (yes, I don't know how to swim and I worked in Tawi-Tawi.), I would immediately hold on to my life jacket. They were bought for us who travel using our Tempel (a wooden speedboat).

Most of the time, the presence of a lovely moon and the friendly stars assured us of a sound sleep in the middle of the sea. Honestly, I cried many times thinking about my kids and their mom back home. Cell phone signal was very bad. Sometimes, it took me 4 days before I could make my much- needed Pangumusta in Davao. Ironically, if we buy a Malaysian SIM ,we can tap signal from the nearby Sabah.

Only Radyo ng Bayan can be heard in that place, although with a very poor transmission. Surprisingly, FM stations from Sabah and Kuala Lumpur can be listened to clearly, with DJs speaking in British English accent (aw). We were miles apart. I was far away from Davao and yet so near Sabah, Malaysia. I could see Malaysia on a clear day. Before sunset, the youth would gather around as they sing their favorite Malaysian and some Tagalog love songs for us. They would entertain us with their Pangalay, their very graceful native dance.

When I was there, I would count the days and weeks that I would spend before I could go home and be with my family. In the same way, my Kuya AJ would cross each calendar day that had passed, making sure that I would arrive on the day I promised to come HOME.