Chapter 359: First Journey: To Bohol Island, Philippines
Departure date: September 25, the second year of Joshu.
This time was chosen to avoid travel congestion during the National Day holiday.
Destination: Cebu City, Bohol Island, Philippines.
Bohol is a tourist destination, but the Cruz family has a private villa on this small island by the sea.
I took Cathay Pacific, departing early in the morning to Manila and then transferring to Cebu. Fortunately, I bought a combined ticket, so the journey was smooth.
Arriving in Cebu, Mr. Zheng met me at the airport lobby. There were two young men beside me.
Mr. Zheng introduced me to his driver, Ah Zai, and his secretary, Phil. After we boarded the bus, Mr. Zheng explained that Bohol is the tenth largest island in the Philippines, comparable to the Maldives.
The clear waters there make it a paradise for divers. There are also the unique Chocolate Hills and the world's smallest miniature tarsier.
I may have read thousands of books, but I feel guilty about traveling thousands of miles. Apart from a trip to Vietnam with Mr. Chen, I only spent a few months in Boten, Laos. Strictly speaking, the only people I interacted with in Boten were Chinese.
I couldn't be petty and show my inexperienced timidity, nor could I ignore the exotic scenery. So, I just listened, rarely asking questions, and nodding from time to time.
As a master, you should have a masterly air. You talk about your exotic landscapes, things I've never seen, and when you meet ordinary people, you act with genuine interest. They're either envious or peppered with questions.
I, Wan Shanhong, not only do not ask, but also do not envy. I elevate these things to a philosophical level.
I said, "The world is made up of gold, wood, water, fire, and earth. Different scenery is just a combination of these elements. Oranges grown south of the Huai River are oranges, while those grown north of the Huai River are tangerines."
After all, I had looked up information before coming here, and what Mr. Zheng said is all on Baidu. So I added a sentence I found on Baidu:
"The so-called Chocolate Mountain is what foreigners call it, but it's actually like the Chinese steamed buns. In China, it's called Mantou Mountain."
Anything, once it is elevated to the level of philosophy, is like glass, which will be shattered by a hammer.
Mr. Zheng nodded repeatedly after hearing what I said: "Yes, yes, the so-called beautiful scenery is where the locals eat, drink, defecate and urinate, and it is the scenery in the eyes of others.
Traveling is a group of strangers enthusiastically going to places that the locals have overlooked.
Chatting like this, I managed to maintain the demeanor of a master. In a foreign country, I still have to hold my head high.
After more than four hours of travel, we arrived at a pier.
There was a small cruise ship docked at the pier, but Ah Zi didn't get on board. Mr. Zheng, Phil, and I got on board.
Mr. Zheng explained that this small boat is the Cruz family's fishing boat. They use it to fish on the sea whenever they have time. Phil is a senior servant in the Cruz family. He doesn't speak Chinese.
Transportation is so convenient nowadays. I could be upstate in the morning and in a completely unfamiliar foreign country by the evening.
The white sand stretched for miles, boats of all sizes moored on the shore, tourists waiting to cross the pier, and a touch of golden sunset. Suddenly, I felt unfamiliar.
The yacht started, plowed through the water, and rushed towards the small island opposite at high speed - Mr. Zheng said that was Bohol Island.
He handed me a brochure about Bohol. That hit home—my English is terrible. Looking at the leaflet filled with English text and pictures, I could only understand the one aerial view from an airplane.
Above the sea, Bohol Island is like a piece of emerald from the sky falling onto the sea.
I said to myself, it’s so beautiful.
An oval piece of jade floats on the vast ocean.
Amidst the verdant landscape, a few red and blue rooftops peek out. It's a paradise for the rich and a tourist attraction for the poor.
We arrived at a dedicated pier, where the yacht anchored securely. We boarded the island and were met by a dedicated convertible sports car.
Mr. Zheng said, "You can stay at our 'Sixia Pavilion'. This is a resort of our association, and it can be considered as our association's property.
It's a small hotel, but it has all the necessary facilities. It wasn't called 'Sixia Pavilion' before. I changed the name after I became president. It's called 'Wenjie' in English. It's not far from Cruz's house."
After about ten minutes, the car stopped in a coconut grove. I looked up and saw that it was indeed different from the one in China. There was a large pond with a zigzag bridge across it.
After crossing the bridge, there is a building. It is not tall, only three stories high, but there are wind and rain corridors connecting the houses.
I checked into Room 102, Building 2, on the first floor. It was a very comfortable little suite. Phil went out, and a few moments later, the waiter brought us dinner.
There is a small kitchen next to the living room, which should be a treatment that talents like President Zheng can enjoy.
Because I saw that the waitress was not only beautiful, but also very polite. She bowed when she entered the door and only pushed the food cart in after getting Phil's approval.
After a while, Phil walked over and gestured for him to have a meal.
Chairman Zheng took me into the small restaurant next door.
On the table were fried chicken, roast pork, and sweet noodle sauce. There was also a stew pot. Next to the pot were potatoes, eggplant, beans, and peppers.
I was very surprised to learn that rice is the staple food in the Philippines.
Mr. Zheng said, "The food here is relatively simple, with rice being the staple. I have to tell you, potatoes are something most people can't afford."
I smiled and said, "I don't have any dietary requirements. I can eat anything."
Suddenly, I asked Mr. Zheng, "Where's Phil?"
"When eating alone, they are not used to using knives and forks, let alone chopsticks. They just eat with their hands. I am not used to using chopsticks either, so we use knives and forks."
I took a bite of rice and followed Mr. Zheng's example, tearing off a piece of fried chicken and dipping it in sweet bean sauce. Oh my god, the rice didn't taste like rice at all, it was like half-cooked rice, with only crumbs.
Mr. Zheng enjoyed his meal very much, and I pretended to enjoy it too.
After eating, Mr. Zheng asked about my treatment plan.
At this time, Phil appeared again, brought us two cups of coffee, and sat aside again.
I asked, "She doesn't understand, she sits here..."
Mr. Zheng said, "I will translate it for her later. After listening, she will go back and do some preparations."
I nodded and said, "I told you last time that this is a special form of poisoning. From the perspective of Western medicine, it cannot be diagnosed or explained. It is usually called 'myasthenia gravis'.
My treatment method is to bring a few Chinese herbs and, after examining the patient's condition, determine the correct dosage. During treatment, the patient may experience vomiting and diarrhea, so I'll pay close attention to this. If the amount is excessive, I'll reduce it. If it's insufficient, I'll increase the dosage.
This observation period lasts about half a month. The patient can leave only after all the toxins have been excreted. Of course, a follow-up visit will be required after one month.
Specifically, there's no need for any other preparations. You're Chinese, so you know that Traditional Chinese Medicine doesn't use any instruments or auxiliary tools to diagnose illnesses. Actually, considering that there might not be tools for decocting herbs here, I brought a decoction pot with me, which can be boiled with electricity."
Mr. Zheng gave a thumbs up: "You are very thoughtful." Then he began to translate for Phil.
Phil kept nodding and occasionally asked a question.
I felt a little frustrated when they were communicating in English because I couldn't understand a word they said.
After a while, Phil stood up, put his hands together in front of me, took three steps back, and then turned and left.
Mr. Zheng made a phone call and a man in his forties came in.
We all stood up. Mr. Zheng introduced me to He Yun, saying, "He Yun is from mainland China, a genuine Chinese. He'll be responsible for your daily life. He's also our association's permanent representative here."
I held He Yun's hand and said, "That's great. With you, I can do it more easily. Otherwise, I would be deaf and dumb."
I pointed to my ears and mouth.
Mr. Zheng had already introduced me to him before I came, so He Yun laughed out loud: "Mr. Wan, if you stay here for a year, I guarantee you will speak fluently and understand. I only graduated from junior high school."
Chairman Zheng explained to me, "He Yun came here to live with his cousin. He was deaf and dumb when he arrived, but now he can even speak the local dialect."
At this time, Mr. Zheng received a phone call. After a long chatter, he said to me:
"Cruz's brother, Crook, is here to visit you. Let's go outside and greet him."
Continue read on readnovelmtl.com