I’ve been to Davao twice before to organize events for clients, and in both instances, it was a case of arriving at the airport, going straight to the hotel, organizing the event, then leaving for the airport. I remember one time, it was my son Niccolo’s 5^th birthday, so Mike and I decided to bring him with us.  While I was working at the hotel, father and son had a great bonding experience visiting all the interesting sites, including the Philippine eagle sanctuary and the crocodile farm.  They told me they had a grand time, and so this time around, I made sure I had an extra day in Davao after the Tourism Industry Board Foundation, Inc. (TIBFI)’s 3^rd Tourism HR Summit.  Problem was I was too busy in the months leading to the event that I never had a chance to research where to go.

After the summit, the congress organizers and speakers hied over to Mary Ann (Baby) Montemayor’s Habi at Kape for dinner and relaxation.  True to its name, the cafe was surrounded by displays of the best handicraft and local products that Davao had to offer.  I wish we had more time to browse around and shop, but we were all terribly tired from all the conference preparations the day before and from managing the conference all day, not to mention lack of sleep.  And since I skipped lunch to work on my afternoon talk, I was ravenous as well.

The dinner Baby served was outstandingly delicious, as usual.  I chatted with Baby about her various initiatives to help women-led SMEs in Davao gain access to the market. What a noble endeavor!  She really is an admirable woman.

I sat with Pa Putu Laksaguna from Indonesia and Gina Jiraporn of Thailand.  That night, I learned that Pa Putu had a beautiful singing voice as he gamely serenaded us.  This after he told me that he only sang in the shower.  I also met the lovely and gracious Joji Ilagan Bian, founder and chairman of the Joji Ilagan Career Center Foundation, Inc., who had allowed her students to take part at the Summit.

As we were driving back to the hotel, we got around to discussing what to do the next day.  Most of my companions were interested in going shopping at Aldevinco, buying pomelos, and doing a quick city tour.  The others wanted to stay in the hotel and work.  There was talk of going to the crocodile farm, the eagles’ reserve, and  to the Malagos farm that made its own chocolates and cheeses.  I’ve sampled the latter before and they rival the best.  These options beckoned, but no one seemed interested to go as the drive was quite long given the distance.

Before I slept, I asked my Facebook friends for recommendations on what to do and where to go.  My vibrant Facebook community was extremely helpful, and I had a number of great suggestions, mostly revolving around food.  My daughters, meanwhile, advised me to skip the shopping and go on an adventure instead.  Besides, I already had a box of pomelos, a gift from Myrna Padilla, CEO and president of Mynd Computing / Outsourcing Services Philippines.

To this day, Myrna is one person who I greatly admire and am honored to count as a friend.  Three years ago, she spoke at the International Outsourcing Summit, an annual conference that we organize for the Information and Technology Business Process Association of the Philippines (IBPAP).  An unassuming lady, she went up to the stage to share her story as an OFW in Singapore and HongKong, learning how to use the computer from her young charge, then coming back home to Davao to set up a BPO.

Myrna touched the hearts of the 500-strong international audience composed of CEOs and senior level executives from the industry, so much so that they got on their feet to give her a standing ovation, with a few shedding tears.  Myrna’s story reminded everyone that behind the numbers signifying the rapid success of the IT and BPO industry in the country, there are real people struggling with seemingly insurmountable challenges and dreaming of a better life for themselves and their families, people whose lives are improving because of the industry.

The suggestion to have civet coffee at the crocodile farm seemed the most adventurous so after a quick swim I went down to breakfast to make arrangements for transportation.  Luckily, I met a few of my friends and they decided to go with me.  So, off we went to the Crocodile Farm.

The crocodile farm had its many charms: from its ménage of feathery and leathery friends from the animal kingdom, its various cement figures that invite guests to have their photos taken, its locally made ice-cream and civet coffee (which I yet have to try), to its various outlets selling traditional handicraft.  They were even selling oil that came from the crocodile, which ostensibly cures all sorts of skin problems, since it contains Crocodillin, an antibacterial substance found in crocodile blood.

I spied a large plastic container on a table near the entrance, and was surprised, when the cover was lifted to see a baby crocodile with its snout bound tight with rubber.  I asked if I could touch it and have my picture taken. Its caretaker agreed, and I gingerly extended my hand.  When the baby croc gamely stayed put, I became more courageous, and came nearer, wondering if it would turn into a prince, just as the frog in the fairytale did.  Inspired by my action, Leni Ogarte of the National Union of Workers in Hotel Restaurant and Allied Industries (Nuwhrain) wanted to have her photo taken with the baby croc too, but when she came close for the photo, the baby croc jumped at her.  It was so fast I was not able to take a picture.

The bigger crocs of which there were so many lying  in various pens looked sleepy and lethargic.  It felt safe viewing them from the other side of the fence, but knowing how swift that baby croc was, I would not want to be near any of the larger ones.  What looked like green lumps on the water turned out to be the back of the crocodiles, as once in a while, one of the lumps would move.

I don’t much like feathered creatures, but the colorful parrots were pretty, the peacock majestic, and a myna called out “Panget” when I passed, so I am assuming the poor thing has lost its eyesight.  Whenever I see a peacock, I wonder why God had granted them such beauty while the peahen looked nondescript, brown and dowdy.  I guess because the male birds need the trimmings to attract the females, while the females were confident enough to know their real beauty was inside.

There were other birds but how could I not write about those huge ostriches that lackadaisically sashayed around the field?  One of them walked right up to the fence where I was, looked me in the eye, then dismissing me, turned aside and walked over to some sheep that had gathered in the field.  I was trembling with fear, being deathly afraid of chickens, much less monstrous ostriches.

And there was that yellow boa lying on the ledge.  Four of us summoned the gumption to have a photo taken, with the boa draped across our laps.  It was heavy, but it didn’t seem to be big enough to swallow us, so I felt quite safe.  The tiger, in the meantime, was having a morning snooze, and didn’t budge at all.  It looked quite content in its cage.

We all had a field day having our photos taken with the various cement figures in the park.  Some of us sampled the crocodile pandan ice-cream (not a fan myself).  I was thinking of sitting down at the café to have a cup of civet coffee, when I saw a line of shops selling traditional clothing.  I loved the explosion of colors of the woven fabric made by the Matigsalog and T-boli tribes, and so decided to treat myself to a complete outfit, including the heavy belt with tinkling bells.  The kind lady at the store even taught me the proper way of wearing a malong, which included biting the edge of the cloth before tying the ends in a knot.  Next time I am asked to attend a function wearing Filipiniana, I intend to wear it.

Soon we had to meet up with our other companions who had stayed behind to work. Lunch turned out to be at the Blue Post Boiling Crabs and Shrimps.  The restaurant’s name was quite descriptive as it was a boodle meal with a refreshing pomelo salad, boiled crabs and shrimps cooked in garlic.  Oh, was it good!  Nay, it was great!  And we even go to write our names on the walls.  I took the opportunity to quickly draw a woman’s face inside the lifesaver in the foyer.  I was having so much fun.  So this is the high that graffiti gives to its creators!

Reminiscing on the day gone by, I am so glad I took the day off work and went on an adventure instead.  There is still so much to explore in Davao, and I hope to visit once again and perhaps next time, have that civet coffee, Malagos chocolates and cheese.  C’est la vie!