J-E-L-L-O

Many times I've reported on the status of fisheries here in the Philippines, about the fact that illegal fishing is still rampant, with lots of cyanide fishing, trawling of coral reefs, even dynamite fishing is still a common illegal fishing technique. In some ways, the situation here is really improving, with large infrastructure projects going on and some promising stuff happening, but in terms of fishing laws, especially when it comes to enforcing those laws for rich commercial fishermen who are politically connected, this place is like the wild west, with very few serious laws, and a small percentage of those enforced to any degree.

While the fisheries continue to plummet here (with some progress being made), the population continues to skyrocket, especially in coastal areas where the main staple foods come from the ocean. This holds true for Babatngon, where the fishing catch, according to locals, has fallen dramatically in the past 40 or 50 years, and the 17,000 people in coastal areas, most of whom are families of fishermen, have an average of 6.4 kids, according to a socioeconomic survey I produced last year.

All of this means that the fisheries are in real trouble, and the people who depend on them are in really real trouble. In an effort to affect change on this issue, I have taken on a multifaceted approach that will hopefully simultaneously protect a set-aside marine sanctuary and increase livelihood for the local fisherfolks without hurting the stock of marine fishes in the area. Our plan in Babatngon to combat the growing problems associated with a diminishing fishery is to grow seaweeds for food and export as carrageenan, a livelihood project that has shown some success in recent years in the Philippines and Indonesia. Part of the project funds will go to building a guard shack that will overlook the seaweed farm and a nearby Marine Protected Area, and the members will be deputized as local law enforcement personnel to keep an eye on things. Additionally, as a challenge to myself as much as anything, I wanted to see if we could get some bottom-rung folks who have no political ties some assistance from the government for an additional project, so we have gone through the arduous year-long process of applying for and finally receiving project support for fish cages in the project area as well. We're keeping our fingers crossed that those funds come through some time in the next few weeks.

The group is composed of 36 men, all fisherfolks or people involved in subsistence farming. They're a rag-tag bunch of guys; some are smart; some are not; some are honest; some are not. They all come from the coastal area of Mombon, a stretch of the village that fronts the ocean, with a bunch of little huts out overlooking the water, basically a squatter area. When I first got here, I remember looking out at the cluster of shacks and shanties, wondering how anyone could live like that. Now, I know half of the people who live in this little corner of town, everyone calls my name as I walk through the little dirt pathway between the homes, going to fishermen's homes for impromptu meetings or to say hello. No one has glass windows, but rather hinged plywood slats that swing open, rusted in place, so I see everyone's faces, women brushing children's' hair, singing karaoke, or men drinking with a group of friends. A lot of the homes have a hog that lives in the area under their stilted shack, a few root crops or sweet potatoes planted in the sandy stinky soil in front, usually a slatted bamboo fence around the place. There is one little communal area in Mombon, probably 20 meters by ten, where the guys, most of them members of my association, have a pool table. When they're not fishing or drinking, they're usually at the pool table, placing 5-peso bets on a game of nine-ball or highs-lows.

Using funds we received from an environmental program through USAID, we bought buoys and nylon, bamboo for the guard shack, nails, nipa shingles for a roof, blue drums for the ballast to keep the guard shack afloat, and our seaweed seedlings from Guiuan, Samar, 4 hours away. The guys all underwent 2 days of training by the regional Bureau of Fisheries and Aquatic Resources, and since then, we have been meeting every day, from 7 am to 4 pm, tying lines, attaching the seaweed seedlings, filling sacks for mooring, and enjoying our time together. Every day, I get an $8 snack for all the guys, and for lunch, another $22 for everyone to fill up. We cook on the little island that faces the project area. In the shade of coconut trees and nipa fronds, we cook rice and squid over a wood fire and when cooked to perfection, dump everything out onto banana leaves and dig in. We haven't yet remembered plates and silverware, so we all eat traditional Filipino style, with our hands, communally, on the banana leaves. Somebody always brings me a glass to drink from, and I always appreciate the gesture. This is a real 'eating' culture, so right after eating snack, all the guys start talking about what we will get for lunch, how much grant money they will use. It really annoys me, but I realize that this is just the way it is, planning from meal to meal, making sure that you've got your bases covered so that you can think about other things.

Sustainability will always be hard to attain, but in hopes of making the project last, I've continued to put pressure on the government officials to come through with the additional fish cage project and after a lot of hassle, it looks like that will come through. The additional funding will mean additional training for the men, additional direct livelihood support now, and funding source that will outlast my service here, affecting the men into 2012. While they talk about women and coconut wine and Manny Paquiao, I'm trying to throw in some conversation about how to start a bank account for transparency with revenues in the future, why it's important to protect the fish santuary, and the overall purpose of generating income from things other than fish because we're trying to bring sustainable fishing back to Babatngon. Some of it is lost on them, partly due to my subpar language skills, but some of it gets the guys thinking, and slowly, some ideas are taking shape.

The project is coming along nicely. I know, having been here for some time, that things are bound to screw up, there's gonna be some politician who wants a cut, or somebody is going to get hurt feelings because of perceived inequities, but for now, it's a lot of fun just being one of the guys.