The Vens

Tarsiers & Voices

On the way to the tarsier sanctuary, Mang Howard kept looking at my reflection on the rearview mirror.

"Blurt it out, Mang Howard," I said.

"You remind me of my childhood best friend. He drowned at the beach when we were twelve years old."

I rubbed my forehead with my right knuckles. If I could punch this man in the mouth, I would.

"Do I look like a boy, Mang Howard?" I asked.

"No. No. Of course not. There's just a resemblance that I couldn't pinpoint exactly."

Unbelievably crazy would not suffice to describe what had happened to me that morning. That was the strangest morning of my life.

My headache worsened as the skies got gloomier. I felt like my temples were being squeezed to the bridge of my nose. The joints on my hands felt stiff and my fingertips were feeling numbed .

The pearls on my bracelet shook as I peeled the wristband and replaced it with a new one. I had been sweating profusely and my wristbands were truly absorbent. I rotated my left wrist.

Hans taught me the basic guitar chords last night. The thick strings hurt my left fingertips but Hans' hand on my hand soothed the pain.

I don't know why I torture myself being friends with Hans. The momentary happiness is brief compares to the anguish of fighting back the pain. Every day I torment myself thinking of Hans calling Avery. They only meet on weekends. Avery is an up and coming fashion model. I rejoice when she is busy on weekends. That means Hans will surely hang out with me. Hans and I still spend more time together but we are just friends. I miss kissing him. I miss hugging him. I miss his voice when he said I love you for fourteen consecutive days.

Mang Howard drove the van through the tree tunnel of Bilar Man-made Forest. I opened a window and stuck my head out to breathe in the soothing fragrance of mahogany trees and giant ferns that fenced the road.

It was amazing how the people of Bohol could make a man-made forest. I wondered when they planted all these trees. Did they uproot the trees or plant them as seedlings? I wish every province in the Philippines has its own man-made forest. I wish Hans was here with me.

Surprisingly my headache and the burning feeling on my fingertips vanished.

I looked at the thick barks of mahogany trees lined along the road and longed to hug them.

"Can we pull over?" I asked.

"Sorry Betinna, we have a schedule to follow. Maybe tomorrow, we can go back here ," Mama said.

I exhaled in disappointment. I wanted to hug the mahogany trees. I love trees. I am my most peaceful self when I am surrounded by trees. Whenever I'm having a bad day, I would walk around West Rainbow Park and talk to the trees. I am a tree hugger. I got loads of photos hugging trees. I go where there are trees and I always feel relief.

I am excited to see the tarsiers. They are the cutest and creepiest looking creatures in the world.

When we visited Australia last year, I cradled a koala in Taronga Zoo. It was a divine experience. I felt like a mother carrying her baby for the first time.

I collected photos of tarsiers when I was in grade school. I cut out pictures of them from magazines and travel brochures and stick them on my school books.

Uncle Will, Mama's younger brother is an artist. I asked him to draw a tree with tarsiers on my bedroom wall. And then I got crazy over X-Men movies especially Hugh Jackman. My tarsier wall was gradually covered by posters of Wolverine, Mystique, Storm and Jean Grey. When I got obsessed with Harry Potter, even the ceiling of my room were covered with posters.

Mang Howard parked the van between two big buses filled with tourists.

We climbed a slippery muddy hill to get closer to the smallest primates on the planet.

I saw tourists gathered around trees elongating their necks to see the tiny tarsiers.

I grabbed on the wooden rail as I carefully positioned my shoes on narrow stairs made of bamboo planks and gravel.

"Can I pet a tarsier? Do they bite?" I asked.

"No you can't pet the tarsier. And yes, they bite. Just whisper, Betinna. Tarsiers mostly sleep during the day," Mau whispered.

"Just like koalas," I whispered back.

When I said the word koalas, tarsiers from different directions leaped on my forearms. I was mildly surprised but mostly I was overwhelmed. I felt like a mother reunited with her long-lost children.

Mama started screaming and almost slipped down the stony staircase. Papa panicked as well but not as exaggerated and embarrassing like Mama.

The other tourists were all staring at Mama and then they looked at me. They started walking towards me when they figured out what the fuss was all about.

It was really strange that I was not startled at all. I was softly stunned but I was calm as if the tarsiers were magical golden butterflies. I slowly lifted my arms and stared closer at the tarsiers.

I was mesmerized by the experience and yet I was fully aware of the bony tiny fingers clasping on my bare arms.

I lifted my forearms higher and  closer to my eyes. I looked at the tarsiers' wide-eyed stares. I only wished to hold one tarsier but I got lucky. I counted them. There were five tarsiers on my right arm and another five on the left.

"Hello, my babies," I whispered.

Ten pairs of big brown eyes stared at me. And then I heard murmurs. They were murmuring joyfully. I could tell that they were communicating something happy to me. The murmurings were gradually becoming audible. I was hearing different words in Bol Anon. Their voices sounded like melodies rising and diving in intonations. The volume was gradually grtting louder. There was a buzzing itchiness inside my ears that felt ticklish and hot at the same time.

Papa walked closer to me and tried to touch one of the tarsiers. Before Papa's finger touch the head of the tarsier, they all leaped back to their trees.

"Oh no! Please come back!" I said.

Many tourists who were carrying cameras witnessed what just happened but none of them thought of taking photos or videos. They were all shocked to see the tarsiers on my arms.

"I haven't seen mawmags behave that way ever. I have been bringing tourists here for more than ten years but I haven't seen tarsiers jump. That was definitely a first for me ," Mau said.

Mau spoke so fast. It sounded like she was rapping.

"Mawmags?" Mama asked.

"Tarsiers are called mawmags here in Bohol," I said.

I approached a tree where two of the ten tarsiers that jumped on my arms were. Their hands and feet were wrapped on its branches. Their eyes were huge. I stared closer. Their eyes communicated to me in a way that made me feel I knew them. The affinity was strongly felt. They liked me and I liked them.

"I wish I had that moment captured on video," I said.

"Oh no!" Papa exclaimed.

Papa, who was holding his camera, just realized he just missed the chance to capture something that could have gone viral in Youtube. It was a daily ritual of his to watch Youtube videos. He got his own channel and it was embarrassing that most of his videos he uploaded were recordings of my early childhood. Many of the videos were clips of me singing and dancing to Disney soundtracks.

Papa was walking ahead of me as we headed down the hill. He was shaking his head regretting a missed opportunity.

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Thank you so much for reading. What do you think of this chapter?

I hope you guys can visit Bohol Island and see for yourself the mesmerizing eyes of mawmags. Please don't forget to vote if you have been entertained reading this chapter.