The cat at the beach (and it ain't cute, either)


Written on 10:30 PM by isko b. doo

Speaking of Tawi-tawi… I think the beaches there are comparable to the best in the world. With powdery white sand that stretches on end, clear turquoise water, and the wind swinging freely. There are no resorts there, maybe because of its image as the preferred vacation spot for the Abu Sayyaf group or its proximity to Sulu, another hotbed for skirmishes, which isn't true of course, but that's another story.

The one good thing about that is you have the beach to yourself. And so, Susan (my companion for the project) and I vowed to wake up early for a swim.

Daybreak came.

The sun started to rise behind the open sea, tinting the coastline with a carroty blush. I started to strip while Susan was busy capturing the moment with her digital camera.

Off to my peripheral vision, I saw an old woman draped in malong emerge from one of the many houses lining the shore. We watched her languidly walked towards the shore, each step purposeful, catlike almost. She stopped at the wet mark where the waves left an imprint in the sand. She burrowed the sand with her bare hands. We continued watching her, mesmerized.

Then, she unloosened the malong draped on her waist, faced the ocean, and sat on the tunnel she just made. That’s when we realized that she was relieving herself using the malong as cover. The term catlike suddenly took a whole different meaning.

We never got to swim, that just killed it off for us right there.

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