Hot Chilis and Durian

"No yesterdays on the road.”

– William Least Heat-Moon

The next day we drive to Tagum City. Davao is spread out and it takes us an hour to get out of the city. “The largest city in the world,” says Manny. “More spread out than any city.” Actually, Davao barely hits the top 20 – New York has three times the land area – but at almost 2,500 square miles, Davao does have the largest land area in the Philippines; it's the third most populous metropolitan area, but only a fifth the population of the Manila megalopolis.

Traffic is almost as bad as the previous night. We pass the malls and, for several miles, the road winds along one continuous line of small store fronts open to the street – most with galvanized metal roofs and galvanized roll-up garage style doors. People walk by with roosters under their arms and carrying 50 kilo sacks of rice on their heads. From the road, we have a clear view of the Davao Gulf with Samal Island and a string of mountains in the distance.

Mare Vising, Rich, Elsa, and Pare Odong Sanat

We leave the city, and the road begins to fill with tricycles, motorized rickshaws with metal cabs attached to motorcycles. They're not allowed on the main streets in Davao, but remain the principal means of public transportation outside the city. The tricycles look like they can hold three or four people comfortably, but I see as many as seven or eight riding in them. Single cycles (motorcycles) whiz by with families of five perched behind the driver and on his lap. One single cycle passes by with a passenger facing backwards while holding a television in his lap. On another, a passenger clings to the cycle with his feet while carrying a five gallon water carboy in each hand. A jeepney rushes by loaded with passengers, including a dozen or so people sitting on the roof while another half dozen stand on the bumper and hang on where ever they can grab a hand hold.

Stands of banana and coconut trees rise up into the surrounding hills, growing thicker as we drive on. We pass Panabo City, the banana capital of the Philippines, and then adjacent Carmen and soon, we're driving past rice fields with a few scattered homes here and there. We take a bridge over a river and then palm trees line the highway – the outskirts of Tagum, the City of Palms. Risa says the former mayor's wife owns the business that planted the palm trees.

“Isn't that against the law?” I ask.

“They were the law,” she says.

We're less than 35 miles from Davao, but it has taken an hour and half to get here. We pass a couple of hospitals, and larger stores, and finally a major shopping mall where we take a left turn up a side street. We drive past more open storefronts with galvanized metal roofs and roll-up garage door fronts. There's a strong smell up ahead, something like a dead rat, but Elsa tells me it's only dried fish, a popular food here and throughout Asia. Definitely an acquired taste (and smell). We've come to the public market, a huge collection of storefronts under a dozen or so metal roof canopies held up by cement or metal posts. Some have curvilinear roofs that look like airplane hangars. The place is enormous, maybe four times bigger than the public market in Seattle. No tourist attractions here though – just food vendors selling rice, vegetables, fruits and fish. Outside, on the streets surrounding the market stand strings of storefronts. Beside the market sits the bus terminal.

We drive on for another ten minutes up to the capital area, turning left in front of a long stretch of white buildings with well-kept lawn and grounds – the provincial government buildings (Tagum is the capital city of the Davao Del Norte province). On the other side of the street stands a new sports stadium with a swimming pool, track, and basketball facility. No weight room for me to work out unfortunately. We continue up the street another block, take two lefts and arrive at the front of a gated, European style home with a brick facade, the home of Mare Vising and Pare Odong Sanat, wealthy friends of Elsa who own three funeral parlours and a gas station in Montevista. The gate is open. We drive in and park on a large, covered, cement courtyard. The property actually consihts of three homes all owned by the Bisings. We find Mare in a small conference room between the center and third house. She is talking business with a couple. She looks up and finishes her conversation and comes over. Elsa dwarfs her. Marie is stout, in her 50s, and only about 4'8,” but she has big, powerful voice.

“Elsa is my friend,” she tells me. “You be good to her. I will spank you if you misbehave.” She laughs. She's always laughing.

“She is a joker,” says Elsa.

Just then Pare Odong pulls up in his new Kia Sportage SUV. He is about Manny's height, thickset and muscular. He doesn't say much; he doesn't appear to speak English at all. When he does speak in his native Bisaya, he appears to have a strong, confident voice, but not as strong as Mare's. She speaks little English, but makes an ongoing effort to communicate with me in English. The Sanats show us the houses. There's a balcony just above the second floor on the roof between the center house and the first house with a view of a nearby stand of coconut and fruit trees and the sports stadium in the distance.

The Sanats stay in the first house when they come to Tagum (they actually live in Montevista and have a home in Davao as well). They tell us they will rent the center home to us for 5,000 pesos a month – about $110. For this first night, Elsa and I will sleep in the first house where the Sanats live. It's small, only a sala and one bedroom with an adjoining comfort room, but well kept and well appointed with carpets, carved wooden furniture, and a bathroom with a shower and flush toilet. There's an air conditioner in the bedroom. The Sanats show us the second house where we would be staying. It's a two story, with sala, a wet kitchen and comfort room with a cold water shower and flush toilet on the first floor and two bedrooms and smaller comfort room on the second floor. I have to bend over to step into the second floor comfort room. There's no furniture other than a wooden bench in the sala, so we will need to buy some. Still, the place is relatively comfortable and it seems like a good arrangement to me. However, Elsa wants to show me her home in Montevista before we make the decision to rent. Manny returns home to Davao, but plans to return in a couple of days to drive with us to his parents' home in Mawab where the annual city fiesta is in full swing.

The next day, we visit a department store at the Gaisano mall. Elsa wants to buy gifts for her family and other relatives. She fills a shopping cart with popular Filipino brand chocolates – Goya milk chocolate bars, Choc-Nut bars, Theo-Philos, chocolate-coated marshmallow biscuits, coconut milk candy bars – and tops it off with Toblerone Swiss chocolates. I'm a little worried about the expense; I'm sure that in the USA, these chocolates would cost over $500. Fortunately here, they come to less than $50. I breathe a sigh of relief.

In the evening, the Sanats return and invite us to dinner. We climb into Udong's Sportage and head back into the city. Downtown, we circle around for a few minutes before settling on a large open air restaurant with bamboo poles holding up a grass roof – the Royal. Udong orders us a bowl brimming with grilled fish, shrimp, pork and chicken and noodles. The sizzling scent of grilled meat hits my nostrils and my mouth waters. Before serving the meal, the waiter brings dishes of lemons with peppers and a seasoning sauce. I grab a small pepper about the size of my thumbnail and pop it into my mouth, expecting something like the pleasant sting of a jalapeno. Instead sudden, intense heat hits my mouth, and sears my tongue like I'd stuck it on hot burning embers. I start waving at my mouth, and gasping. I let out a howl and grab my beer and gulp. Udong almost doubles over and Elsa and Marie join in laughing hysterically. Elsa tells me I've just eaten the siling lalbuyo pepper, once rated by the Guinness Book of Records as the hottest chili in the world.

On the way back to the Sanat's house, we pass a fruit stall filled with what look like foot-long spiked pineapples – durian. Udong pulls over and we walk up to the stall. The pungent mercaptan odor is almost overwhelming. Udong grabs a durian and holds it to his nose and smells, then shakes it and listens to the sound. He does this a few times before he finally buys one and we head home. Along the way, we stop at a drugstore and he buys a bottle of Maria Clara wine.

Arriving home, Elsa opens the gate and Udong parks in the courtyard. We climb up to the roof balcony and Elsa cuts open the durian, exposing rich slabs of fruit meat that look a little like a yellow custard cream cheese. “Eat,” says Udong and waves toward the durian. I'm reticent, but Elsa takes a spoon and scoops out a bit of the fruit and hands it to me. I chew and swallow. The durian has a rich, sweet, taste, too sweet, in fact, cloying. I can stomach it, but politely refuse another bite. Udong pours me a glass of the Maria Clara wine. It is, in fact, a sangria, a desert wine, and much too sweet for my liking. I prefer dry wines, but they're not popular in the Philippines. I take a couple of more sips and set the glass aside.

We retire early. We need our beauty sleep; the next day leave for Compostela Valley to attend the Mawab fiesta, and visit Elsa's home.