When an opportunity to mix travel and work arose I jumped at it. I shrugged off comments about trying to find work closer to home. I let complaints about my not getting a permanent job fall on deaf ears. After five years of barely getting out of Quezon City I wanted some R&R and a chance to explore more of my country.
Day 1: It was a little after five in the morning when I took the10-minute drive to the pier. I had barely slept. My sleep-wake pattern was still a mess and I was unable to adjust it days before I was set to leave. I was planning to sleep through the 2 1/2-hour boat ride to Occidental Mindoro but the cold and windy morning woke me up. I was expecting some high waves as we hit the open sea but the ride was calm enough. I did not have a minute's worry.
The van ride to Mamburao took 40 minutes. The concrete road cut along the verdant greens of farms and rice paddies. There were stretches where only one lane was usable, the other lane was used for drying grains and corn. A good five minutes sometimes passed before the van came across another vehicle. The drive was both calming and revitalizing. It was truly a breath of fresh air compared to Manila.
The hospital is squat and white. At first glance it was almost intimidating. I had expected a rundown graying hospital. Instead I was greeted by a wedding-cake white building roughly a year old.
We got a tour when we arrived, meeting with other residents, getting introduced to the attendings. After a quick lunch we were taken to the Capitolio for a courtesy call with the governor. I sat down, smiled and tried to look professional as I introduced myself to the governor, vice governor and a mayor. As it turned out, someone I was going to work with happened to be the governor's nephew.
It's true what the Lonely Planet guide said. Mamburao is a dusty little town with a bad case of tricycle-itis. Tricycles are the primary mode of transport. There are few jeepneys. Like the vans, the jeepneys only seemed to operate to transport produce or to carry passengers over long distances. After the first ride through the town I was looking forward to exploring it on foot. Later in the day a group of doctors was going for a swim at a beach resort only 2 kilometers away from the hospital. Too tired to do anything but sleep, I declined the invitation to join them and just made a mental note to check it on a later date.
I slept soundly that night. I knew I needed all the energy a good eight hours of sleep would give me. The next day was going to be an entirely different day.
Day 1: It was a little after five in the morning when I took the10-minute drive to the pier. I had barely slept. My sleep-wake pattern was still a mess and I was unable to adjust it days before I was set to leave. I was planning to sleep through the 2 1/2-hour boat ride to Occidental Mindoro but the cold and windy morning woke me up. I was expecting some high waves as we hit the open sea but the ride was calm enough. I did not have a minute's worry.
The van ride to Mamburao took 40 minutes. The concrete road cut along the verdant greens of farms and rice paddies. There were stretches where only one lane was usable, the other lane was used for drying grains and corn. A good five minutes sometimes passed before the van came across another vehicle. The drive was both calming and revitalizing. It was truly a breath of fresh air compared to Manila.
The hospital is squat and white. At first glance it was almost intimidating. I had expected a rundown graying hospital. Instead I was greeted by a wedding-cake white building roughly a year old.
We got a tour when we arrived, meeting with other residents, getting introduced to the attendings. After a quick lunch we were taken to the Capitolio for a courtesy call with the governor. I sat down, smiled and tried to look professional as I introduced myself to the governor, vice governor and a mayor. As it turned out, someone I was going to work with happened to be the governor's nephew.
It's true what the Lonely Planet guide said. Mamburao is a dusty little town with a bad case of tricycle-itis. Tricycles are the primary mode of transport. There are few jeepneys. Like the vans, the jeepneys only seemed to operate to transport produce or to carry passengers over long distances. After the first ride through the town I was looking forward to exploring it on foot. Later in the day a group of doctors was going for a swim at a beach resort only 2 kilometers away from the hospital. Too tired to do anything but sleep, I declined the invitation to join them and just made a mental note to check it on a later date.
I slept soundly that night. I knew I needed all the energy a good eight hours of sleep would give me. The next day was going to be an entirely different day.
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