Changes

What a week.

It began with travelling to Negros for the first time since training for language camp, encompassed a heavy does of emotional chaos, and ended with a spontaneous trip to Bindoy and two of my best friends' return to America.

One thing about this lifestyle is that even though my fellow PCVs and I spend a good deal of time remarking about the often plodding nature of our days here, when things do change those changes are abrupt and complete.

It was hard to focus on Cebuano with all the other turmoil, and I was glad for the week to be over when it was. Still, the thought of returning to an empty Bohol wasn't entirely appealing either, so Todd, Kate and I headed up to Bindoy with Andrea for the opening events of their town fiesta. I had left my camera on Bohol, but managed to snap a few pictures of carabao (water buffalo) racing, a very bloody cock fight, and other events with Andrea's camera.

It took the better part of a day to get myself back to Lila last Sunday, and on the cramped, after-dark final leg of my journey home I experienced something completely new: the desire to get back to Lila, shake off the week, and resume the plod.

Run buffalo, run!

Climbing a very tall, very greased bamboo pole

The bloody aftermath of a cockfight.

Todd and I climbing a few of the old remaining mangroves on the Bindoy coast. Easier said than done - under the trees their exposed root systems make for hazardous scrambling, especially with waves rolling in.

Thanks for the photos Andrea!