Once Upon a Time a Russian and an American went on a Surf Trip to the Philippines

Before I get into this post I want to share that I went on a podcast!! It was aired on the Raglan Community Radio. Bucket list item checked off. Annika, a friend of mine and the host of “How to Make it Work” interviewed me a couple of weeks ago. I think I blacked out the entire time, I’ve never done anything like this before, but if you want to give it a listen here is the link for Spotify and Apple Podcasts . Annika is an incredible interviewer and it was an honor to be her last guest for this season of the podcast.

It feels so good to be in the groove of traveling and writing again. I’m back in New Zealand after a three week trip to the Philippines with my friend Veronika. We’ll start there, with Veronika. I met Veronika during my second month in New Zealand, last year, when I was gardening and teaching yoga in exchange for accommodation at an eco retreat in Raglan. I actually met her son first, Luca. I was sitting outside drinking my coffee when this sweet little boy sat next to me and asked if he could teach me how to play chess. We played a game and Luca told me about his mom, that she surfs, she’s a photographer (I’ve included some of her incredible film photos in this post) and she’s just inside making some food. Veronika came out, we began chatting and the friendship was formed instantly. You know how sometimes you know in an instant that you’ve made a new bestie? I spent the remainder of Veronika and Luca’s stay in Raglan hanging with them. Veronika and Luca live in Auckland and they’d periodically come back to visit me and Raglan. I’d watch Luca while Veronika surfed, then V and I would stay up until 3am drinking wine, talking about life and  travel. Veronika grew up in Kazakhstan and immigrated to New Zealand with her mom when she was twelve. V has the best stories and we actually have so much in common, who would’ve guessed. When I came back to New Zealand this time around Veronika and Luca picked me up from the airport and brought me out to dinner. They’ve become my family here. When I first met Veronika she had just finished riding on the back of a beautiful South American man’s motorcycle for a few weeks through Central America. My kind of girl. We declared that we need to travel together at some point. This vision came true when V called me up in March to ask if I wanted to join her in the Philippines to celebrate her 35th. It didn’t take much convincing. 

V and I when we booked our trip

For some reason I thought the Philippines is a lot closer to New Zealand than it actually is?? I keep forgetting I’m living in the furthest country away from the rest of the world you could possibly go to. The flights weren’t expensive at all (this was pre-fuel shortage) but the travel time was close to 20 hours from Auckland to Siargao, 4 flights. I’m so used to doing these big hauls alone so it was such a treat to be traveling with a friend. V and I yapped for hours and I didn’t feel so weird doing my yoga stretches on the floor of the airport between our 6 and 13 hour long fights with someone else looking just as ridiculous with me. We only had to run through the airport once and I counted that as my exercise for the whole week. It was a bit chilly in Auckland when we left and I could feel the dense tropical humidity in the air as soon as our little island skipping jet landed in Siargao. 

Siargao is just one of 7,641 islands that make up the Philippines. If you managed to explore a new island every day without pausing it would take 21 years to see all of the Philippines. We figured we were better off to just stick to one. This travel pace was a bit different for me, I’m used to only having one way tickets with the amount of time I have in a country open ended and purely dependent on someone breaking my heart or running out of money. We had 3 solid weeks and were determined to make the best of them. I’ve realized how important it is to base a trip around something you're passionate about; whether it’s food, the culture, certain aspects of nature, or, in our case, surfing. Siargao is considered the surfing capital of the Philippines. 15 years ago the only tourists you would find on this island were surfers looking for a wave. Now it’s developed into a traveler’s destination, we met people that weren’t even there to surf. 

I can't put into words how refreshing it was to be back in South East Asia. Not that every SEA country is the same, but there are quite a few similarities: chickens roaming everywhere, food stalls off the side of the road, little tuktuks overtaking lumber trucks, kids playing soccer in the streets, smiles and friendliness. You can sense the hospitality by just a five minute stroll down the street. I’ve felt this sense in Thailand, Vietnam, Sri Lanka, Indonesia and now the Philippines. 

Veronika and I arrived just as the sun set. We started off our trip in General Luna, the main strip of Siargao. People say it’s the “new Bali” but I was pleasantly surprised it still felt a lot more humble than Bali did (you can read about my not-so-fun initial Bali experience here).  We checked into our hostel, waved down a Tuktuk that brought us to dinner, and we were already contacting a surf guide about surfing the next day. It makes such a difference to surf at first with a local in places where access to breaks can be difficult and require a boat. We contacted Kelvin, the “surf guru”. He told us to meet him at a pin dropped location at 6am the next day. I love this way of life. No waivers, no payment up front, just pure trust. We set our alarms for 5am, rented a scooter and met Kelvin at 6. He had three surf boards attached to his dirt bike and began waving his board back and forth toward the open sea. I asked him what he was doing and he said that’s how you call a boat to come pick you up. This little wooden boat suddenly appears, we hop on, and it takes us to a reef break about 10 minutes away. Kelvin tells us to jump off the boat and begin to paddle out. I followed him and Veronika like my life depended on it. I wondered, maybe a bit too late, how will we ever find that boat again? 

It’s funny how I turn into a total beginner when I’m at a new surf spot. I told Kelvin I’ve been surfing for a couple of years now but he probably thought that was a complete lie based on how hesitant I was about catching a wave. Thank god we hired him. Kelvin helped me surf a few small waves, then I told him I want to get on the biggest wave possible at that break. I needed to break the ice with this foreign surf spot and surf board. Kelvin brought me out to the back, I saw this monster set come in and began to paddle out to avoid it and Kelvin said “you wanted a big mama! Here it is!”. He’s right, so I turned around and caught one of the biggest waves of my life. I think my heart is STILL pounding from it. After that I wasn’t scared or hesitant anymore. 

Veronika and I spent the next few days leading up to her birthday surfing almost every morning, eating at local spots, zooming around on our scooter, exploring different sunset viewpoints, and finding places to dance at night. We met some lovely friends from Spain, Natalia, Milo and Jamie. Jamie lives in General Luna, he runs a surf camp here, and he showed us the best ceviche restaurant I’ll ever go to. 

There was a day that the wind wasn’t right for surfing and the swell was too small so we decided to go on a side mission. There are multiple tour companies that run the “three island tour”. You basically pay upfront to get on a boat, they fill it with as many people as possible, and take you to three different tropical islands. You stop at each island for less than an hour, they feed you fresh fish halfway through, and bring you back before the sun sets. It’s like an express tour, great if you’re just looking for photos but not enough time to really enjoy an island for a day or be on your own schedule. I knew there had to be a way to do this DIY style. Veronika took our scooter to the port and we began asking around if a fisherman would be willing to drop us off at Daku island, just 15 minutes away by boat. We found a fisherman that agreed to, but first we needed to secure our lunch. We went into the local market and bought a whole parrot fish and a big slab of tuna. Of course we needed a watermelon too. Veronika does this trick she learned in Kazakhstan where she holds a watermelon up to her ear and knocks on it to see if it’s good or not. I’m not exactly sure what she’s listening for, maybe a knock back? But I trust the process. 

So V and I got on the tiniest fishing boat in the harbor with our parrot fish, tuna and watermelon. Dun Dun, our fisherman chauffeur, took us to Daku island and we agreed we’d meet back in the afternoon. Dun Dun turned around and went back to Siargao, V and I walked around to the most beautiful section of the island. There was a woman with a frying pan selling cooked sea urchins. We asked her if she could help us with our fish. She brought us back to her family, who had a kitchen and a grill. We paid them 100 pesos to fillet our fish and help us cut up our watermelon. We found our own little beach cabana and spent the rest of the day living like mermaids. This was a million times better and a lot less expensive than the Three Island Tour. Plus, we got to directly support locals rather than a tourism company. Dun Dun picked us up at our meeting time and we went back to Siargao sunburnt and happy. 

It was an absolute honor to celebrate Veronica’s 35th with her. V is 35 going on 25. I couldn’t even keep up with her sometimes. This woman is going to live forever. She is so full of life and we had an absolute blast. The day started with one of the best surfs we’ve ever had. It’s so funny, Veronika turns into a little kid when it’s time to get out of the water “just one more wave!! Please!! Maybe 2 more!!” V would surf all day if the tides allowed it. Next we went to an aerial silk yoga class. I did this once in Thailand and was so pumped to try it again. It’s like yoga but in the air and mostly upside down. There is a lot of spinning. I love it. I decided that I need to have a silk hammock installed in my future home.

We got lunch and then put on our most obnoxious dresses to scoot around town. This Russian and American know how to have a good time. Veronika got two birthday cakes, one from me and another from Jamie, and we went to the Saturday night spot to dance (there is a different location every night). It was shoulder to shoulder with people, I haven’t been crammed on a dance floor like this since the hut parties we used to go to in Raglan last year. We didn’t hold back. This group of local girls took V and I in. We were literally on the ground at one point. They have a curfew in Siargao to respect the locals' early bedtimes. Everything closes at midnight. 20 minutes before closing I remembered that I bought V a tiny birthday cake earlier that day but it was in the fridge at our accommodation. I snuck away, ran down the street in my little palm tree dress as fast as I could, grabbed the cake, gathered as many strangers as I could and we serenaded Veronika at the club. We managed to get behind the DJ booth, and when the lights turned on at midnight we got ramen noodles from the food stall next door and we were in bed by 1am, laughing about the encounters we had that night like little girls. 

Okay, I was hesitant to include this in my blog because I know it may upset some readers, but I like to be totally transparent here about the realities of traveling and the experiences I end up in. Kelvin, our surf guide, invited Veronika and I to a rooster fight. Locally known as “sarong”, it’s an ancient tradition in the Philippines that predates Spanish colonization. It’s deeply embedded in Filipino culture and operates as a highly organized and legal billion dollar industry. I have this rule, if a local invites you to something that is deeply a part of their culture, you go. There is no better way to pop the tourist bubble than a cock fight. I think it’s healthy and so important to challenge our western minds, even though this one was tough to wrap my head around at first. I’ll set the scene. Kelvin has Veronika and I meet him outside of his family home, we follow him about 20 minutes out of town and approach this small stadium that has hundreds of scooters parked outside of it. We walk in and the first thing I notice is that Veronika and I are not only the only white people here, but also the only women. We follow Kelvin like lost ducklings (or chickens?) up the steps for a view of what’s happening below. It’s actually an incredible spectacle. The area is divided into two sections, with a small sand pit below. We ask Kelvin a million questions. I’m trying to understand what’s going on. Basically, the side you’re sitting on is the rooster you’re betting on, if you chose to do so. There is no official book keeping on the bets. There is a man in the middle of the arena that keeps track of who bet and how much they bet. This is the part that blew my mind. Dozens of men on either side are holding up either a “1” for 1,000 a peso bet or a “5” for a 500 peso bet. If the chicken on your side of the arena wins the fight, that man hands out your cash. If your chicken loses, you pay. I asked Kelvin “wouldn’t it be too easy for someone to just not pay?” He told me that would never happen, and if it does there would be big consequences. So for about 5 minutes before each fight there is this huge commotion of these men holding up numbers and shouting as the roosters are introduced. Roosters naturally want to fight each other. I won’t go into detail about what happens but each round usually ends with one rooster dying. The rooster with the most bites wins, and sometimes this is the rooster that dies first. They actually eat the losing rooster right away. The winner gets stitched up and returns to training (yes, they train the roosters). These roosters were worth a couple of hundred dollars, which is still quite a bit, but in Manila, where the big cock fights happen, some roosters are worth up to $500,000 USD. 

After talking with Kelvin and doing some of my own research I learned that this is one of the few activities in the Philippines, or even in the world, where every economic class level can participate. I can see both sides to this, yes, raising an animal just to have it fight and be killed feels like a form of animal cruelty. On the other hand, millions of animals are systematically bred just to be butchered for us to eat, and these roosters are treated much better than any chicken in the US that is raised for commercial consumption. A couple of years ago in Vietnam a pig was butchered underneath the room I was sleeping in (this is the blog post about that time in Vietnam if you wanna check it out). This brought up an interesting realization that in the west we are often completely separate from what takes place in order for us to eat meat. I know the rooster fighting isn’t for food, it’s for gambling, which is negotiably not very ethical, but I think the reason it can be so shocking for us westerners is that we have no connection to where our meat comes from other than buying it at the grocery store, ready to be cooked. Anyway, I might become vegetarian after this experience or at least learn how to raise my own chickens. 

It took me a couple of days to directly acknowledge it, because it felt so normal, but in the Philippines you’ll find the locals hanging out with the travelers. You’ll notice people who have lived here their whole lives sitting next to tourists in cafes, surfing with them, inviting them to dinner, and really living side by side. The locals are tidy and hard working. I didn’t see a single person begging for money but they know how to hustle. English is widely spoken but it hasn’t overtaken their native dialect which is so cool to see. They’re proud to be from the Philippines. They know how special this place is. It felt like an honor to visit their home and be welcomed. 

On the other side of this, I can see how tourism changes a place. I was chatting with a local guy, he’s around my age, and I asked him how he feels about Siargao becoming a bigger tourist destination every year. He told me that he remembers when he was a kid and there were only locals living in Siargao. They’d surf all day, fish, go to school, and play with their friends. Life was peaceful. He said he’s grateful for the opportunities tourism has brought to the island but misses when the pressure to keep up didn’t exist and life was more simple. 

Octopus fishing in the north

Veronika and I separated our Siargao trip into two sections: General Luna and The North. Everyone I talked to that has been to Siargao told me I’ll probably prefer the north, which I did. I think a big reason is because there is absolutely no cell service in the north part of Siargao. V and I sorted a Tuktuk that drove us about 2 hours north to the little village called Garcia. The north is clustered with these little villages, each one is a home to a couple hundred people, and they’re all connected via “the highway” (it’s just a paved road). We stayed at Sun & Surf hostel, right smack in the middle of Garcia. There are houses that surround the hostel and I have to admit this is the first hostel I’ve ever stayed in where I felt like we were really in the neighborhood. The neighbor kids would run into the shared space of the hostel in the morning to play, we’d hear people singing and laughing outside their homes at night, and we never missed when the bread Tuktuk would come through town with its loud speaker (think of an ice cream truck with only three wheels and replace the ice cream with buns). 

With the best stroke of luck we could have asked for, Veronika and I visited the north during their specific “fiesta season”. Fiesta is a yearly celebration, it’s a series of days to celebrate catholic saints. It’s like if Thanksgiving, Christmas and Halloween had a baby. Every home has an entire pig roasted “lechon”, along with various Filipino dishes. Each home is open to guests, anyone and everyone is welcome to come inside and have a plate. The little villages have different days they celebrate Fiesta, so one village will host the others, then the next, and so on. Veronika and I were welcomed into home after home. We played jump rope with the kids in the street. This was an all day celebration.

And to top it all off, at night we were invited to the “disco”. This was my favorite. At the town center a giant disco ball was hung up, along with the biggest and loudest stereo system I’ve ever seen. Hundreds of lights are strung across. There is a very elaborate net of extension cords leading to a generator. Actually, there are two generators. Music is played as loud as possible while the entire neighborhood dances below. All ages. There were grannies with canes dancing with the little boys that play basketball outside of our hostel every morning. Every so often the generator would die. The music would cut and the lights would turn off. Then, as swift as possible, a man would take the extension cords, run them across the dance floor, and plug them into the other generator. Party back on. 

Our group from the hostel were the only foreigners here. It’s always an odd experience because that tends to lead to a lot of eyes and attention but after we got down to a few songs it felt like we were accepted like the rest. We realized quickly that this disco was also a big fundraiser. Different groups, individuals or families could donate to the local hospital. The average donation was 1,000 pesos or $16. No one expected us to donate. A local friend told us how to donate if we’d like to. This seemed like a no-brainer to me. I was thinking that if each of us donated a couple of hundred pesos, even up to 1,000, we could give a significant amount. It wouldn’t be much to us because of the currency exchange but it would mean something for them. I began walking around to see if the other tourists from our hostel wanted to donate. I was shocked when some people straight up said no, and others gave the smallest amount of pesos they had in their wallet. I couldn’t believe it. We’ve been invited into their homes all day. They fed us. It’s their party tonight. We traveled long distances to visit their country. We were even drinking their alcohol tonight, for free! This felt like a good opportunity to give back a bit. I know we're trying to travel as cheap as possible, but there is a line between budget backpacking and entitlement. What I noticed that night made my stomach hurt, and I think it reflects a very ugly and greedy side to the backpacker community. I’ll never forget what I saw written inside a bathroom stall at a jungle rave in Thailand, where the local community was working SO hard to keep up with all of these travelers coming through, “is this modern colonialism?”. We donated a little over 1,000 pesos. There were still many thank yous. My ideas around how I want to move through the world changed a lot that night. This kind of mentality needs to change and frankly I don’t want to be around it. We talked with a local surf guide that met a tourist from Germany, fell in love with her, and eventually visited her in Europe. He told me the most surprising thing about the West wasn’t the infrastructure, the food, the cars or the businesses, it was that, “people had all of this money, it was obvious, but they kept it to themselves, they’re afraid to spend it. It just keeps piling up in their bank accounts and they don’t know what to do with it. They won’t even give it away”. He then went on to tell me that in the Philippines people spend whatever they have on their families, their neighbors and loved ones. “No money goes to waste”. 

Running into Bento on pay day

Bibi, the woman that cleans our hostel, invited Veronika and I to stay at her guest home. Of course we said yes. I mean look at her shirt. She hand drew us a map to get there. It actually worked.

Veronika and I weren’t the only people living in New Zealand that had the idea to go to the Philippines. One of my best friends from Raglan, Chris, and his lovely girlfriend Grace, along with my previous housemate Kacie, who is like a little sister to me, were all in Siargao as well. I knew they were in the north, but with the lack of cell service it was hard to locate them. I actually just bumped into each of them. We created this little group in the north. It was fun because it felt like we were living back in the early 2000s where we couldn’t communicate via phones. We’d have to go to each other’s accommodation. We’d make plans to meet for coffee, meals and surf and you need to stick to them. 

There was one afternoon V, Grace, Chris and I surfed for hours and hours and we were the only ones at the break. It felt like we were surfing in a post card. Karaoke became our favorite nighttime activity. One evening Chris, Kacie and I tried to go to our favorite Karaoke spot but it was closed for a private event. Everything in the north closes quite early, so we resorted to the local way: we bought three big bottles of red horse, gathered some plastic stools and drank the beer on the side of the road with the street dogs. We sat there chatting until we could hear roosters. 

I want to share with you a crazy small world story. There is this girl, that lives in the village we were staying in, local, a little bit younger than me that I knew I had met before. I’d see her around, she was at the disco, and she probably thought I was such a creep because I kept staring her down trying to figure out where I’d seen her before. Finally, I went up to her and told her that this is strange but I recognize her so much. She recognized me too! She asked if I met her somewhere in the Philippines maybe? Nope… I asked her if she had traveled much before and she said she did a trip to Thailand and Vietnam in 2023. We both dug back into our photos from that time and realized we DID meet, in the middle of no where in Vietnam the day before I started my motorcycle adventure in the north. We actually have a photo together! Every so often I’m reminded how tiny the world actually is and how connected we all actually are. So cool.

Here’s the pic of us in Vietnam in 2023 and again in Siargao in 2026!

The north of Siargao is one of those places where you can really get into a rhythm. We went to the same cafe almost every morning, surfed the same spots, hung out with the same locals, and completely slowed down. We ate fresh fruit and waited for the tide to come up. We’d actually take time to talk to the people we come across. This is a specific way of life that I’ve only found in certain pockets of the world. My theory is that if I spend enough time in these places, where life moves at a natural pace, it’ll become so ingrained that I can take this lifestyle anywhere. Maybe I could even implement it into a life in the U.S. 

Working on a travel plan for my current client!

There was one evening where the power went out completely on the entire island. I guess this happens from time to time. But this meant no air conditioning. Veronika and I wet towels, wrapped them around our heads, and attempted to sleep. It was impossible. So we laid in the dark and shared stories for hours. I love Veronica’s stories about her childhood in Kazakhstan. She told me about the pet parrot that lived with V and her mom in their apartment. Her grandma’s garden and instant noodles. These giant watermelons that are big enough to feed even the extended family members. How she loved roller skating, that she originally wanted a bicycle but her mom told her it would get stolen. She told me that in the Soviet Union, when her mom was young and going to school, the kids were taught how to load a gun blindfolded. She shared what it was like to live in Kazakhstan right after the Soviet Union collapsed. The positives and negatives of it all. All of the jobs that were lost and the fear that was instilled in the generation before her. She also told me about how when she was growing up the Russians, Kazakhs, Uzbeks, Ukrainians etc would all hang out together and there was very little discrimination between the groups. What it was like to immigrate to New Zealand, the sacrifices her mom made, how far they’ve both come and how they keep their traditions alive. It’s all so inspiring. It’s not my space to share more of Veronica’s life story, but V was dealt a tricky hand, like many of us, and she’s overcome what some people would see as impossible. She has big dreams, always coming up with new goals and ambitions, nothing is impossible or “too much”. She’s also an incredible mama. There’s that quote, I think it’s something like “the circle of people in your life is your ceiling”, with V, a ceiling doesn't even exist. It’s silly, I thought on this big trip around the world I’d meet my future husband. I’m still waiting on him, but what I’m finding instead (and might just be better) are these deep friendships with women that remind me that we’re not in control of what happens to us but we are in complete control of what we do with everything that happens to us. Life can be shit or it can be one big, painfully beautiful experience that holds a million lessons. Depends on how you look at it. I had the girls trip of a lifetime with Veronika in the Philippines. Another story for my grandchildren. 

Veronika and I had to laugh a little every time someone asked where we were from because it was always a complicated explanation. “I’m from the U.S and V is from Russia but we’re both living in New Zealand” is what we summed it up to. Those words, “I’m living in New Zealand” came out of my mouth for the first time, and then over and over again. Everytime I said it, it felt strange and exciting. I guess I am living in New Zealand. I even took a trip away from this country and returned to it. I returned back to my friends, the house I’m living in, my jobs, my van, the wardrobe of clothes I’ve collected from thrift stores and this little town I’ve been calling my home away from home. I did it, I moved across the world and life keeps pushing me in the direction to grow more roots here. Primary school teaching is on the short list for residency in New Zealand. There is a teacher shortage. This means that if I become a teacher in New Zealand, I could potentially hold a permanent residency visa for New Zealand. Permanent. This doesn’t mean that I have to live and work in New Zealand forever, or that I even will, but it gives me the freedom to stay in this beautiful country nestled away at the bottom of our world whenever I want to. I have this dream of owning a little home along the St Croix river in Minnesota and a surf shack in New Zealand, while having the entire world in-between to explore. I guess this is my first step in that direction. I began the process to register my Minnesota teaching license to New Zealand back in March. I was told it could take up to 8 months for this to be processed, I have a friend in town whose application took 4 YEARS to be approved. I was prepared to have this process test my patience but only two months later I got an email that I am now a registered teacher in New Zealand. Just a couple of days ago I got back into the classroom again as a substitute teacher for a class of 4th graders at the local school here in Raglan. I haven’t been in the classroom since June 2023. When I wrapped up that school year and began traveling the world, I knew in my bones that I wasn’t finished with my teaching career. It’s who I am. Teaching has been a passion of mine since I started university. My teaching career is what initially took me around the world. It helped get me through one of the darkest times of my life and I’ve found it to be the most rewarding thing I could ever do. After just one day in the classroom I felt parts of me come back that I thought I lost. 

Out to dinner in Raglan to celebrate my NZ teaching license (:

The plan is to secure a full time position for next school year, February 2027. I could write a novel about what it feels like to commit to something like this after gallivanting around the world for the past three years with no end in sight but instead I’ll just tell you that this is the direction I’m being pulled in and I’m taking it one step at a time. 

If you’ve read this far I’ll share another piece of my plan: I’m coming home at the end of July! The homesickness was hitting me too hard. When I couldn’t stop listening to John Denver and Wille Nelson so I knew it was time to go home. I realized this is a good chance for me to see my people before I commit to at least a school year in New Zealand, so I’m gonna book a flight (just waiting to see if the price will drop.. I know this game too well). I plan to be home for a month and I’m so excited to enjoy a hint of MN summer to break up this New Zealand winter. Then the job hunt begins! I may even try to squeeze in an adventure in some far away land while I’m at it. I can’t help it. Also, next Thursday is going to be my first birthday away from home in my life. Also my first birthday in the WINTER. I’ve always managed to make it home for June. I know I’m going to miss Minneota so much but I’m going to try to make the most of turning 28 far, far away.

Thank you, as always, for reading this little blog. I have a list of every person that’s been keeping up from the start and the new ones I’ve gained along the way. I’m flooded with support and encouragement from all over the world. I don’t mean it lightly when I say it’s everything to me. I wouldn’t be here without you.