Ati Tribe

Back in Bohol, Philippines ... yeah, I know I promised you upcoming blogs about Thailand and Singapore but for now we're still talking about Bohol.

When we arrived in Bohol by ferry we were immediately approached by several drivers/tour guides trying to sell us their services. We needed a driver so we spoke to one, negotiated a price and then hopped into his van. In the morning he took us to see the tarsiers and the Chocolate Hills (previous blogs) but once lunch was getting closer we asked him if he knew of a good place to eat. He replied simply with, 'floating restaurant'. Okay, sounds interesting; off to the floating restaurant we go! Once we arrived at the floating restaurant we noticed all the staff there seemed to know our driver. I figured this was one of those circumstances where the tour guide brings tourists to certain places and then gets a cut of the business. Normally I don't care about this as long as I feel I'm not getting ripped off. In this case, the buffet lunch was reasonably priced and after looking at the food we felt it was good enough to fill our bellies after a busy morning of monkey watching. We paid the lunch fee and walked towards the floating restaurant.

Wow, it really is a 'floating restaurant'

As you can tell by this photo it was jam packed with people; mostly around the buffet table. This floating restaurant consisted of a bar, a buffet table for the food, and tables and chairs for the guests. Do you notice there's something missing here? A kitchen! I had no idea where all this food was coming from. It was certainly wasn't cooked on the boat. It must have been coming from somewhere close though: the hot food was still hot, and the cold food was kept cold. Maybe there was a hidden kitchen in the forest?

While eating I heard the coughing sounds of a small gas guzzling boat motor. I turned my head in the direction of the sound.

Okay, what is this guy doing? He attached his boat to our floating restaurant. Before I knew it, the whole restaurant was floating down the river (incidentally, it's called the Loboc River).

As if on cue to the boatman stealing the floating restaurant with all of us on it this man pulled out his guitar and started singing overly happy American songs from the 1960s. Was he trying to distract us while the boatman kidnapped us? The songs were so happy and the singer was so overly animated I found myself wooed into his playful sing song. I wasn't alone, one old lady after dancing at her table for 10 minutes started dancing around the floating restaurant trying to get everyone into a congo line.


The boatman drove us up the river for about 15 minutes.

Along the way I noticed some interesting vegetation growing alongside the river banks. I saw no land, just giant palms that seemed to be growing directly out of the water. The water colour here was unnaturally blue. This photo is a pretty good representation of that colour.

Suddenly I heard drums in the distance.

I ran to the front of the boat/restaurant and saw this in front of us. Were my eyes deceiving me? Could that possibly be a tribe in grass skirts? The boatman parked our floating food festival at a small pier. Most people looked pretty confused; I was one of them. After several minutes of confusion the congo line lady grabbed her camera and got off the boat. Everyone, including me, followed.

The pier brought us to a small path. The path brought us to this sign. 'Welcome to ATi TRIBE". Wow, it really is a tribe. Perhaps a long lost tribe of Filipinos lost in time and forever waiting to be rescued by the floating god known as 'Restaurant'. Our short walk down the path was complimented with the loud banging of tribal drums. How authentic. How primitive. My first lost tribe. A new experience in pinoy-ness.

The path ended and I was standing in their village.

The drumming was coming from these guys banging on this bamboo log. There were girls in the background doing an odd dance that involved them wiggling their hips and looking bored. The whole thing was pretty amazing. It really did feel like a lost civilization. I see the village even comes complete with a traditional tribal tip box.



Here's a video of our bamboo drumming tribal friends.



Some of the tribesmen were impressing us tourists with displays of their brute strength. Imagine breaking open a coconut with your bare hands? Impressive, even if it does take you at least ... four tries.

After watching this I walked around the little village a bit. It consisted of two huts, a broken cage that read, 'Beware the Tarsiers,' and around 25 tribes-people. I took some pictures, tossed some peso into the tip box and walked back to the boat. I thought to myself, what a truly amazing and authentic presentation. Maybe they really do live like this still? No phones, no lights, no motor cars, not a single luxury!

I got back to the boat and noticed congo line lady was behind me. I saw everyone else was walking back to the boat as well. I don't know if they were following me or congo line lady. I think it was probably the congo line lady because - wait, she deserves capitalization - Congo Line Lady is a natural born leader!

The boat coughed on its motor and after a huge disgusting cloud of black smoke engulfed the restaurant we were on our way. I took one last look at the ATi TRIBE. The men (and boys) were still drumming on the bamboo log and the girls were still dancing their bored dance. I was about to look away when I saw something at the back of the village. It was hard to see because it was hidden behind the trees. Can this be? Are my eyes deceiving me again? Can this possible be a little house with people sitting on a couch watching TV? What? TV? If it wasn't the TV that opened my eyes about this less-than-authentic tribal village it was the Radiohead t-shirt hanging on the clothes line beside a drying grass skirt. Bah, the tribesmen tricked me! I debated on swimming back and taking my pesos out of the tip box but figured, fake or not, the villagers put a lot of effort into this tribal experience so they deserve it!

We floated back to where we first started. Along the way our overjoyed singer once again grabbed his guitar and began his onslaught of pleasing American classics from the 1960s. I leave you now with a little entertainment...



Sing it for me my Pinoy Brother!