«» Travel Notes 006: Discovering the Beauty and Danger of Sulu
A first-hand account of Sulu's transformation from Abu Sayaff stronghold to tourist haven
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Sure ka ba talaga?? . . . Are you very sure? My uncle Allen asked me for the 99th time since I arrived in Zamboanga. I've heard endless variations of this line of questioning leading up to today, so I knew my answer. Sure ka? Yes. Yes, I'm sure. . . Baka gusto mo sumama? Maybe you want to come?
Of course, he says no. And of course, I know he would say no, but I invited to show him my confidence in the tourism officers I've been in touch with for the past month. Yet, as a 6-foot-tall Filipino-Chinese, I would be wrong to say I was coming in with no fears. I know I will immediately stand out among the Badjao and Tausug. My background will be the perfect victim for a hefty ransom. But I want to trust the countless hours spent reading every blog site I could find about Sulu and reaching out to every person I know who's set foot in the notorious province.
I want to believe that Sulu is now a safe place, working very hard to promote its tourism.
My heart is beating faster than usual as AJ (the only soul brave dumb enough to come with me), and I find our beds in the largest Ro-Ro (Roll-on/roll-off ships) I've ever been on.
The Ro-Ro is four levels high and the length of two football fields. We enter, and the first thing to hit us is the smell which I can only describe as a mixture of sweat, food, and crowd. The ceiling is low, so I need to walk with my head down to make our way through the Ro-Ro's maze of rooms and bunk beds in search of the numbers 403 and 402. Practice for Sulu?
It took us ten minutes to find our assigned beds in the Ro-Ro's airconditioned section and settle down.
We meet Jaja and Charlie—both solo travelers.
Jaja is from Makati and trying to visit 81 provinces too. Why else would you go to Sulu? She vlogs for fun. Jaja will be joining us for our land tour the following day.
Charlie is from Vigan; the only two provinces he has yet to visit are Tawi-Tawi and Batanes. He's a full-time blogger. Charlie chose to come without coordinating with Sulu's tourism office. We later discover that Sulu's police restrict him from leaving the port without an escort. He is reported to the tourism office.
Barya lang po. The Badjao plead. Sige na po, pang gutom lang po.
A passenger looks into his body bag and throws coins, which the Badjao dive after.
I remember learning about the Badjao in class a decade ago. They're superior divers who use their supremely long breath holds to reach deep depths and catch fish, is what I was told.
This seems a far cry from the tribe I learned about.
Instead of fish, the Bench-underwear-clad boys dive for coins.
This is my first sight of Sulu.
Our first stop is the municipality of Parang and its white sand beaches.
Sir Jan, our former police turned tourism driver, shares that the 18km paved road we just crossed would have been impassable before 2018. We would have been kidnapped and ransomed if we had been here 10 years ago.
But recent efforts from Sulu's government, especially during the pandemic, have succeeded. The Abu Sayaff are now few and scattered. There are Barangay Peacekeepers Auxiliary Team (BPAT) stations all over the province to ensure quick response to any aggression.
Nevertheless, when we arrive at Mang Sali beach, we are met with a 10-foot concrete wall, a handful of armed guards, and the whitest sand I've ever seen in my travels. In photos, we are relegated to shadows as the sand appears to glow with its brightness.
After lunch, we visit the municipality of Maimbung.
The 12-foot-long pattern you see above is made of traditional Yakan cloth and weaving patterns. We are told this is worth PHP 80,000. It took two Tausug women 6 months to get this far.
We pass by Bulingan Falls.
Again, Sir Jan shares that these falls used to be enjoyed exclusively by the Abu Sayaff. Only in the past five years have locals begun slowly visiting Sulu's natural wonders like this.
We end our day with a visit to Jolo's Capitol Building.
Sir Jan is on the left-most beside Jaja, while Ms. Cath, our tourism officer, is in the middle. AJ and I stand to the right.
Yung may ari ng restuarant kung saan kayo nag-lunch kanina? Ms Cath shares. Abu Sayaff leader po ang may-ari noon! The restaurant where we had lunch earlier this afternoon is owned by an ex-Abu Sayaff leader.
I would never have bothered mentioning where we ate earlier because the restaurant was unassuming. The servers were kind, and the food was good. Sir Jan even spoke to the owner for a brief second. He seemed nice. He seemed normal.
I would never have guessed that this man held a high position within the Abu Sayaff. He seems well enough integrated into local society despite being under constant supervision. He's serving tourists, after all!
At least may pamumuhay na sya diba. Ms. Cath adds. Marami sa kanilang Abu Sayaff ay sumali lang namin dahil takot din sila. At least he has a source of living now, right? Most Abu Sayaff members aren't bad people, to begin with; bad people influenced them when they were in a tough position in life.
Naka station po kayo rito? I ask.
Dalawang taon na po. Amil answers. Taga Jolo talaga ako pero mas gusto ko rin dito sa HPT. Ma traffic sa Jolo! Nakaka stress.
Amil is a police officer stationed in the municipality of Hadjma Panglima Tahil (HPT), where our group went island hopping on our second day in Sulu. We met him while waiting for our boat to pick us up from the municipality's stilt station. He's based in Jolo but prefers a station here because he enjoys its calm lifestyle compared to the busy streets of Jolo.
This conversation was not what I expected to have in Sulu.
I was expecting to be treated differently here.
They told me to dress down.
They told me to put my head down.
They told me to speak to locals only when with others.
Yet, I've only seen kindness throughout my stay in Sulu. On the streets, you will see Badjao and Tausug children playing together. Inside shops, you will have warm conversations with both women and men. I didn't feel unwanted stares nor rude gestures.
Of course, it's possible my experience here has been less a representation of Sulu and more a representation of the efforts of Sulu's tourism office.
I've only been here for two days, so I can't say for sure; I can only say what I felt while walking the little province's streets.
By the time you read this, I will likely have landed in Tawi-Tawi already. Guess who decided to join us last minute? See you, Uncle Allen!
Until next week,
Atom
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I’m so jealous 😭 Your narrative was such a nice read 🥺