Travels in the Philippines - Part 4 - The Barrio Boys

 All credit goes to Scott Ruffenr for this Classic handcrafted piece of writing

Jazzy hasn’t got an ounce of fat on him. There he sits on that injection molded plastic chair, next to a gray plastic stack table; a picture of true Malay genetics. Even an untraveled westerner would never mistake him for Chinese or Japanese. High cheekbones and a longish jaw form a triangular face on a sort of flat plane. It’s as if his facial bones and skull are trying to force their way to the surface from under his exceedingly lean skin. The only hair on his face is a dozen or so whiskers protruding from his chin about 3 inches down towards his chest. Small brown almond shaped eyes angle upwards toward his temples. Long tombstone shaped teeth dangle at odd angles from his bluish- black receding gums. He is wearing a knitted beanie cap with Jamaican national colors, although his somewhat curly, shoulder length hair is too thin for proper dreadlocks.

His brother Josh sits at the same table sporting a “stingy brim” straw hat reminiscent of the type of hat an old black blues man like Lightnin’ Hopkins might have worn. Angular shoulders support an oversized t- shirt that hangs halfway down his pirated “Billabong” board shorts. Skinny, hairless brown legs and veined feet scarred by numerous coral cuts, are decorated with his brand new white rubber slippers. He has the same facial features as his sibling, but he has bleached his hair to achieve a real surfer look.

I guess he figures blondes do have more fun! The brothers are looking very cool tonight. There will be a beach party tonight, and the barrio surfers are getting tuned up at Angel and Marie’s across the road from the beach.

Bashong and Dudes, two of the local hot shot surfers also sit at the table. Like so many other surfers all over the world, they look completely stoned from smoking the weed. Neither of them speaks much English; they just smile in unison with the two brothers. The smiles are for my benefit, as they are all expecting me to buy a round of beers. I suppose in their minds, I am the rich white surfer with unlimited amounts of pesos, so I pony up and keep the booze flowing.

It is a new surfing season here in La Union, and changes are many. Surfing is all the rage with Filipinos, and the local municipal government, as well as the President of the country are interested in maximizing the tourist potential. Earlier this year President Gloria Macapagal Arroyo herself actually took to the small sandbar shorebreak and caught a few waves with the help of some instructors. It happens that her daughter is an avid fan of the sport, and can be seen out in the lineup on weekends. She also keeps a small apartment near the break, where security personnel are clearly in evidence when she is visiting.

So what does all this mean for this small backwater surfing community?

Money is starting to flow, and the barrio boys want a piece of the action.

There must have been some sort of baby boom about 20 to 25 years ago in this area, as there are about 30 to 40 surfers of about the same age range with one thing in common:

Unemployment

On weekends when the rich kids from Manila drive there Ford Expeditions up for a surfing holiday; many of these local surfers will “teach” surfing to them. However, it seems to me there are just too many teachers and too few students for anybody to make a living out of it. I suppose there are a few entrepreneurs amongst them that sell a bag of weed here and there, but again the market is not there for volume business. So what is the answer to this problem? Find a job in town? Drive a trike or a Jeepney? No, I think it is in their minds that it is their birthright to:

Get a sponsor, become a surf star!

The dog-eared surfing magazines lay on the service counter of Angel and Marie’s tavern. Every one of them has had the fold-out photo removed and is doubtless hanging on the bare cinder block walls of the barrio hovels. All the local boys know what logo to wear on their t-shirts and shorts, what style of hat to wear, and the branded, albeit pirated, wrap around sunglasses adorn their cheeks. It’s in the magazines isn’t it? Kelly Slater wears that stuff doesn’t he? They see the commercialism of surfing around the world and expect pesos from surfing heaven to rain down on their mushy little point break.

Some of the long time expat resident surfers have given me a bit of the history of how surfing got started here as far back as the 1970’s. It all starts with an itinerant Aussie looking for a cheap place to stay and surf uncrowded waves. History will no doubt forget his name, but he was followed by some friends and fellow surf travelers, some staying for short periods, others taking up residency. Young Filipino boys would line the beach watching the foreigners riding the waves. At some point the surfers would let the kids try to catch a beach break wave, and soon enough a traveler would leave broken or dinged up board as a gift with one of the beach kids.

Thus local surfing was born of a handout, and that tradition is cherished by the local surfers to this day.

I buy another round of Red Horse beers for my new buddies. I’ve got a buzz going now and feel pretty good about hanging out with the future legends of La Union surfing.