No WWW In Looc

My customers are going through a lot right now. Even on the last islands of Fiji, the connection was much better four years ago: there was a connection. I prepared myself well for this trip. The Philippines is one of the most advanced countries in Asia in terms of mobile phone technology. I know which provider is better on which island and I have a mobile phone and SIM card.

But what use is all that? Nothing, nothing, and nothing again! Internet in the Philippines is a disaster. Now I’m in Looc, the capital of the big island of Tablas. No internet shop has a connection. The mobile phone network kicks me out every 30 seconds. Wouldn’t be so bad. But even the Google homepage takes over a minute to load.

There’s a sign at the entrance to the next internet café: “Students are not allowed to play during classes”. It’s eleven o’clock in the morning. There are easily 40 primary school students playing on computers in the dark little room. Fantasy role-playing games are very popular. But the undisputed number one are bloody violent games. A little pupil kills an opponent with a shot to the head. He has obviously noticed me, because he calls out in a Mogwai-like voice, “Eat this, teacher!”. Then he looks over his shoulder at me, smiling sweetly. No, I’m not going to pour water on your head now!

In the afternoon, the www is on for two hours before everything collapses again. I work through as much as I can, but 3 kB/s isn’t really effective. I go out. I’m the only long-nosed person in the whole town again. Little schoolgirls look at me like I’m from another planet. Basketball players envy my height and challenge me.

In the morning, I take the Bangka to Caticlan. As Looc is the next largest harbour in the north of Boracay, you can already feel the Boracay surcharge here: the two-hour crossing costs more than twice as much as comparable trips to other destinations. The sea between Carabao and Boracay is always rough, and today is particularly so. The heaviest waves are over two metres. Three sea dogs stand on the windward boom, constantly checking the guy ropes. When one breaks, even they get nervous.

The Bangka sails past Boracay to Caticlan. A stupidly grinning red-skinned dabber on a banana boat waves over. I wave back with my middle finger. At the check-in for the crossing back to Boracay, I’m almost killed by a Chinese fighter squad vying for the best place to scan my luggage. The ten-minute journey costs almost as much as the two hours from Tablas. A squashed cat lies on the road. I slip on the Borawhy T-shirt I made yesterday.

I have at least three days of 12-hour shifts of web design ahead of me, followed by a few days in the doldrums.