With the best of intentions

Last week, I visited Cave Kan Apoy, a really pristine cave with interesting wildlife and challenging vertical dynamics. After caving, all of the visiting cavers and myself decided to swim in the local waterfall. I got water in my ear while swimming there and thought that it would just come right back out if I waited long enough, like it always does. Well, this time was different, I waited for 1, then 2, then 3 days until my ear started hurting like it's never hurt before. I've always prided myself on not having earaches like other people, but now I am one of them. Ever since last week, my ear has been throbbing, with sharp pangs of pain that come in intervals when air hits the insides of my ear canal. It's been really painful. Today, while at work waiting, trying to find out if any real work was going to come to fruition, I clasped my ear when one of the sharp pangs of pain hit me. Everyone around me stopped talking about who was pregnant and with who's boyfriend, and looked at me. First person to speak was my 'counterpart' who's been missing in action since she realized that I didn't want to get drunk on the job, "PET! Imo talinga!(your ear!) you need to see the witch doctor! There are many enchanted fairies at the Waterfall!" She was immediately followed by a policeman walking by, looking for someone to sell him load on his cellphone "Ah, your ear has problem. What you do, you get water, put it in your ear like this," he motioned as if dumping a bucket of water on his head while tilted, "and then, when water starts to trickle down, you flip, like this," and with that, he spasmatically tipped his head the other way, like he was forcing the water out of his head, and then proceeded to beat the upper side of his head with his fist. Next was Ate Madel, a middle aged woman, very nice, who works with farmers in the area, "What you will do, you get the wing feather of a chicken, and pull off the little hairs," she made a motion like she was pulling off the little fibers on a little feather, one at a time, "until there are just few at the tip, and then you put it in your ear like this," with that she smiled with shocked expression, "mmm! It feel good!"

This would have ended had I not consented to eat another post-fiesta party meal with my office mates earlier. We all went to the house of another office mate about 15 miles from the town center, and sat around a little table, fan in our faces, and lots of food on the table. I tried to not reach for my ear when I would feel a pang, because when I would, everyone would start talking again about who was the best witch doctor to go to, and folk remedies for infections, and how I got cursed because the fairies at the waterfall saw my earring and infected the ear that wears it. All sorts of stuff. Aside from the ear infection talk, lunch went well, with just the few of us, talking shop, what we were planning for my aquaculture project and so on. Then the husband of our host sat down at the corner of the table with a guitar and randomly began to sing and strum familiar songs. His voice was not the fluid clarity of a James Taylor but more of a raspy Filipino mix of Bob Dylan and Steve Earle. He sang a sweet rendition of starry starry night, then Homeward Bound and Leavin' on a Jet Plane. It was really nice to hear familiar music played on something other than a big bellowing karaokye machine. It was odd that he had just picked up and started playing without announcement, but I brushed that aside and just enjoyed the moment of all of us, sitting there at lunch, singing along to actual, good music, played by an actual, good musician. It was about that time that the man looked at me and said, "I dedicate this song to Peter," and began to sing Elton John's 'Danny.' Everytime he got to the word Danny, though, he instead inserted my name and everyone laughed while he looked lovingly into my eyes. It was really awkward but meant, I hope, with the best of intentions.