Philippine fried banana

Last night it rained. Lying on the bed of 2x2 meters of my bungalow I was enchanted to see the rain falling in the semi-darkness, and through the window came the familiar voice of the sea, perhaps three metres from me. Here, Kaputian, Samal Island, Davao del Norte, Mindanao, Philippines, the weather is good. Sun by day and rain by night, to refresh.

I'm starting to use the guide to the contrary. I go to places that are not mentioned, but some traces of which can be found on the Internet, perhaps because there is some legend of civil war. Indeed, there is police and soldiers everywhere, they search you when you enter the shops or in the bus station but my sense of security is very high, night and day. Even talking to people you know you can find trouble only if you go to the search. And not here.

Here I could count the tourists on the fingers of one hand. And this is wonderful, because you can have an authentic experience of life of local people. The other side of the coin is that, as a tourist, you yourself are an attraction, many people staring at you interrogative, or surprises, in proportion to age. Some try an approach, especially the young people who are greedy for novelty, but often with the intent to sell you something. Those who can not speak English are often intimidated, he says you no even before you've asked a question, even if you just want to ask for directions to a location. It's hard to find maps, information, services, understand what is a fair price. In the long run, it become troublesome, you must change your mind travel, take it very calmly.

The south-east Asia, for what I could see, is full of people. Even in the most remote there is a village, a hut, there's no way to stay on their own. Also my Asian experience is making me appreciate the greatest invention of the Western world: the toilet paper. In the popular houses there is no sink, shower, toilet paper. Everything is done with a bucket on top (or beside) the toilet bowl. And I still find it hard in public bathrooms. I tried to ask some local grooming as they do only with the bucket, if there is any technical cunning ... but I think in the end might not want to know. I bought a roll and I always keep in your backpack, I do so first.

In Cagayan de Oro I paid 3 euros for one hour full body massage. In Butuan 41 euros for 2 antibiotics and 2 painkillers, 5 euros for a specialist in hospital, 1 euro for a plate of rice with meat and vegetables, 11 euros for a double room in a cheap hotel, 6 euros for a trip of 286 km and 8 hours in a bus without air conditioning, a few cents a day move by jeepney or motorella for a glass of coconut juice or a fried banana.

I find it hard sometimes not to feel superior. My culture, my money, my skills, the image that carries with it an Italian, puts me in a superior position, from the social point of view, than most of the people here. So it makes me more attractive, more important, more powerful. I catch myself sometimes to please me for this difference, I find myself looking for it in the eyes of people and I feel so weak in those moments, so slave. I don't want to use my power to take something from others, I want to use it to enter into connection, as this is possible.

We are all one, in each of us is a divine spark, just that most don't know, or doesn't believe it. But, when I'm alone, I can see it, I can see, in a particular, the true beauty illuminate the face of every person.