I Think I Can. I Think I Can

I clutched onto his shoulders. They were strong yet relaxed, unlike mine. The road ahead was steep and rough and he needed to keep his wits about him.

I think I can.

I think I can.

I know I can.

I know I can.

The words from a childhood book called The Little Red Caboose reverberated in my brain. Laughter bubbled up inside and I had to do everything I could to contain it. Partly because this was an hilarious and out-of-the-box way to spend the afternoon and partly because Sr Cathy had her eyes squeezed shut and looked like she was definitely not enjoying the experience. Laughing at another’s fear is not encouraged. I could totally understand her fear. This was not the safest thing to be doing. (Sorry Mum and Dad! Better to tell you after the fact than before!)

At breakfast this morning, Sr Cathy quite inoccently said, “I wonder what adventures today will bring?” I don’t think riding a skylove was something she had in mind after all; we were to spend the day sewing with the Badjao women. And we did, just not all day.

When I leave Surigao, the women will no longer have a sewing teacher. Prior to Odette, the typhoon from 2021, Sr Cathy had made contact with a lady who was eager to teach the women sewing. Odette happened, contact was lost and there were a few other priorities. I arrived and began asking if we could plan for the future. So Sr Cathy got to contacting the lady, Evelyn, only to have messages unopened and phone calls left asking her to check the number and try again. In the end, she contacted another lady, Emily, who knew her. She told her that she was willing to make contact with Evelyn as she also knew where she lived. Fast forward to 11 am today. The suggestion was that we would visit. We didn’t know if she’d be home, but sure, why not? That sounds like a great plan.

So, we closed the Centre early, telling the women that we were searching for their next sewing teacher. We caught one tricycle to the waterfront and then another heading in the direction of the town we needed to go to. Along the way, we picked up Emily from work. The tricycle ride had us going through the rice fields and a much less densely populated area. The wind whipping around us on the tricycle was like a salve from the intensity of the mid-afternoon sun. (Yes, we’ve had sun for the past two days!). We began to climb on the tricycle and we could certainly see the mountains to our right rising majestically to demand attention.

We pulled into the ‘terminal’. A simple lean to structure with mostly men, although there was one woman; resting on their skyloves. Conversations which I couldn’t follow due to my non-existent ability to learn another language were had, and we decided to go for it! A skylove is a motor bike (Called here a single motor), with wooden planks on either side on which passengers sit, with their legs outstretched before them. Seatbelts? I hear you ask. Um… no. Helmets? Um… no. Any safety equipment? Um… still no.

I climbed on behind the driver, hence my hands resting on his shoulders and after counting to three, Sr Cathy and Emily sat on at the same time. We were off. At first, it was smooth, at least on the main road. We turned off and the road deteriorated. It was rocky, but the driver was skilled. This was his occupation, after all. We bumped our way up for about half an hour. At times, it was very steep, the motorbike revved loudly and I felt the need to lean forward to ease its labouring.

Upon arrival at the town on top (of the world), we disembarked and asked the driver to wait. I felt every part of my body still feeling the vibrations of the motorbike. We asked a young women sitting outside her house, if she knew where Evelyn lived. She did. We walked the short distance by foot. When we arrived Evelyn was praying, so we waited. We were graciously greeted and she and Sr Cathy spent some time catching up and finding out how Evelyn fared after Odette and checking if her contact details had changed – they had. That would explain no response from her.

These were taken at the top before we began our descent. I was actually behind the driver, although I did ride like this from Emily’s house to the motorcab terminal.

The conversation got down to business and by the end of our short visit, next steps were put in place. The original plan of her coming to teach can not be implemented, but there is still a chance she can help us through the organisation she is now working with. So all is not lost and the ride was worth it. Mind you, we still had to come down that very steep mountain.

We bid Evelyn farewell, outside her small modest home where the air was much cooler and a beautiful breeze was blowing and returned to the skylove driver. Sr Cathy gave the driver strict instructions to go slow on the way down. Her eyes remained opened this time, and she was far more comfortable. The driver obliged and we slowly made our way down the mountain with the motorbike backfiring most of the way. This time, we all laughed.

This was not the adventure either of us had envisaged this morning at breakfast, but then again, this trip, I’ve been expecting the unexpected and today it delivered… again!