THE BADJAO BUNCH. They come in groups. Nobody is (and should be) left at home and so the young one had to take her morning nap directly under the scorching heat of the sun.
Each time I disembark from the vessel, I hear the ooh's and aah's of my fellow passengers, both foreign and local tourists, as they see these Badjaos flock at the pier and ask them in their dialect to throw their coins to the water. From their expressions it is hard to tell whether they express repugnance or delight.
INVISIBLE KID. As members of her family dive for their next meal, this little girl's presence is suddenly dropped to the bottom of the priority list and she is left forgotten and alone in her little boat.
Some of the foreigners, and even the locals who have only seen the Badjaos for the first time, would throw some coins to see how these natives dive for it. They throw some coins to see how these natives dive for their meals.
I walk away asking myself, how long will it be before these Badjaos rise from the pits to end this throw-your-coins-and-we'll dive-for-it game? I walk away, asking myself, will this crazy game ever end?