December 11, 2014

Travel Essay: The Banal and the Sublime at Donsol

“We are all whitewashed,” Shane admitted. Godo dismembered the bihag we bought from the cockpit. He poured water into the basin, rinsed the meat, and poured the water into the sandy ground. The boys stared at the meat in all its grandeur. Or gruesomeness: bones, flesh, blood. While for them—Tupe, Freyal, Godo—it was just the usual bihag they had every Sunday. It was nothing short of ordinary.   Poultry, on the other side of the world, is boneless—the boring tenderness of meat, they said. Years ago, someone spitted out the tinolang manok upon feeling the hardness, the finiteness of a […]