Butanding!

No, butanding is not a curse word, that is the local name for my new buddies, the whale sharks of Donsol:)

My parents and Rianne and I joined up with my brother, Eric's, family for a weekend adventure in village in the middle of nowhere, off of whose coast the whale sharks gather every year to feed on the abundant, translucent globs of plankton.

Our group would don masks and fins and wait on the side of our slim, 

high-prowed banka until our Butanding Interaction Officer shouted "Rock and Roll!!!" 

I felt rather like a Navy SEAL... waiting in suspense for the start of our mission;)

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This was our spotter, posted at the highest point of the boat to search for whale sharks.

I dove down around 20 feet and swam alongside the whale shark for as far as I could before I had to return to the surface to breathe.  It was really an incredible experience.

After swimming with the whale sharks, we strolled down to the market-- I laughed at the "well-milled" rice; do you also offer poorly milled rice???

Is anyone hungry for stuffed chicken intestines?:P I tried to convince myself that it is really no different than sausage... but still!;)

Okay, this was a unique experience! We went shrimping the traditional way with these guys-- you push this large net through the water and mud and hopefully catch shrimp... think plowing... while snowshoeing at the same time! Our guide still used an antique kerosene headlamp, rather reminiscent of old time coal miners. Walking out to the shrimping grounds across these endless mud flats with only a flashlight or two for our whole group felt surreal-- from a movie--like at any time our procession would start chanting... or some creature would jump out of nowhere... we had a good laugh;)

 Our second day, Mom, Dad, Rianne and I crammed into a trike and set off to learn how to weave the palm fans that you see people making just a few kilometers from the village, yet no one actually knew where we should go to try-- evidently we are on the cutting edge of the tourism industry here in Donsol! Not that this is such a bad thing, of course!

An experienced weaver can make  100  of these intricate fans a day-- I am very impressed!

These women use their feet to hold down some fibers, while they weave others with their hands-- my toes were not so agile!:P



Our last night at Giddy's, where they grilled whatever fish they had caught fresh that day for our dinner, served with calamansi butter sauce-- yum:)