About Palawan
About Palawan
WHY PALAWAN?

The last fron­tier of the Philip­pines” is tru­ly the best pre­served is­land in the arch­i­pel­ago. More than 50% of ter­ri­to­ry is cov­ered by rain­forests, in­clud­ing vast ar­eas of in­tact pri­ma­ry old-growth. Woods are home to an ex­tra­or­di­nary wildlife and to some of the last gath­er­er-hunter tribes in Asia.

A breathtaking nature

Palawan is a long and nar­row is­land (500km long per bare­ly 50km at widest point) which lies right be­tween Bor­neo and the Philip­pines. While po­lit­i­cal­ly be­longs to the lat­er, the island’s na­ture has in­deed much more to do with Bor­neo than with the ocean­ic arch­i­pel­ago. The small strait sep­a­rat­ing both is­lands got emerged sev­er­al times dur­ing glac­i­er pe­ri­ods, thus be­ing Palawan con­nect­ed by a land bridge with the Sun­da Shelf and main­land Asia. As a re­sult, Palawan is nowa­days in­hab­it­ed by some typ­i­cal Male­sian fau­na, such as pan­golins (Ma­n­is culio­nen­sis),  por­cu­pines (Hys­trix  pumi­la),  ot­ters  (Am­blonyx  cinereus),  bearcats

Arc­ti­tis bin­tur­ong), leaf tur­tles (Cy­clemys den­ta­ta), and Dark-Eared Treefrogs (Polype­dates macro­tis). Like­wise, some birds found in Bor­neo and Palawan, but ab­sent in the rest of the Philip­pines, are the Fairy Blue­bird (Ire­na puel­la), Hill Myna (Grac­u­la re­li­giosa), Chest­nut-breast­ed Malko­ha (Phaeni­cophaeus curvi­rostris), and the large wood­peck­ers Mul­leripi­cus pul­veru­len­tus and Dri­o­co­pus javen­sis.

More­over, the pre­vail­ing cur­rents and winds end­ed up lit­ter­ing the is­land with cast­aways com­ing from the neigh­bour­ing Philip­pine arch­i­pel­ago. There are also many ex­am­ples of this among birds, be­ing cock­a­toos (Ca­cat­ua haematur­opy­gia), rac­que­tails (Pri­on­i­tu­rus plate­nae), Philip­pine Ducks (Anas lu­zon­i­ca), and Tabon Scrub­fowls (Megapodius cumingii) some of the most notable.

But aside from links with neigh­bour­ing ter­ri­to­ries Palawan is, and has been for a long time, an is­land. In­su­la­tion pe­ri­ods have thus yield­ed an out­stand­ing ar­ray of en­demics, rang­ing from bizarre pitch­er plants (Ne­penthes palawa­nen­sis, N. man­talin­ga­ja­nen­sis, N. at­ten­bor­oughii) to ma­jes­tic fly­ing fox­es (Acerodon leu­co­tis). Also unique to the is­land are the Palawan Stink Bad­ger (My­daus marchei), Palawan Horned Frog (Megophrys lig­ayae), Palawan Toadlet (Pelophryne al­b­o­tae­ni­a­ta), Philip­pine For­est Tur­tle (Sieben­rock­iel­la leyten­sis), and the pur­ple fresh­wa­ter crab In­su­la­m­on palawa­nense, as well as a num­ber of birds such as the Palawan Pea­cock-Pheas­ant (Poly­plec­tron em­phanum), Palawan Horn­bill (An­thra­co­ceros marchei), Yel­low-throat­ed Leaf­bird (Chlorop­sis palawa­nen­sis), Palawan Tit (Parus am­a­bilis), Palawan Fly­catch­er (Ficedu­la plate­nae), Blue Par­adise-fly­catch­er (Terp­si­phone cyanescens), and Palawan Flow­er­peck­er (Pri­onochilus plateni).

Palawan’s bi­o­log­i­cal rich­ness melts with the most scenic land­scape one may imag­ine. Dom­i­nat­ed by a moun­tain range rais­ing more 2,000 m (6,500 ft) from the sea lev­el, topog­ra­phy crum­bles dra­mat­i­cal­ly into the ocean. Rain feeds hun­dreds of rivers that flow hasty into end­less de­sert­ed beach­es sur­round­ed by jun­gle and some of the tallest man­grove forests of the planet.

The last gatherer-hunters

Lit­tle has changed since their an­ces­tors in­hab­it­ed the Tabon Caves, aside from the few odd vis­i­tors that from time to time now come to the vil­lage. Whether in the thick­ets around Cleopatra’s Nee­dle or in the re­mote Singna­pan Val­ley, the gath­er­er-hunters of Palawan still leave like thou­sand years ago, knowl­edge­able of but vol­un­tar­i­ly obliv­i­ous to the tech­no­log­ic rac­ing go­ing on out there, as they did in the past with the Chi­nese, Arab and Malay traders.

The na­tive peo­ples of Palawan, like wildlife, col­o­nized the is­land from neigh­bour­ing Bor­neo. Both eth­ni­cal and cul­tur­al­ly are re­lat­ed with the Dayak tribes and, like them, live ful­ly in­te­grat­ed in na­ture. The Batak, who share phys­i­cal ap­pear­ance with the negri­to group of cen­tral Lu­zon (the Aeta), live off itin­er­ant kain­gin (slash and burn), sub­sis­tence agri­cul­ture, and the trade of rat­tan, al­maci­ga, and hon­ey with the low­lan­ders. They are an­i­mists and their be­liefs are deeply root­ed on their re­la­tion­ship with the spir­its of na­ture. Nowa­days there are just about 500 Batak left in Palawan, with their num­bers grad­u­al­ly de­creas­ing as they are ab­sorbed by sur­round­ing com­mu­ni­ties (the Batak rarely mar­ry with­in their own group).

The case of the Tao’t Bato, lit­er­al­ly “the peo­ple of the rocks”, is even more dra­mat­ic. This small Palaw’an tribe is re­strict­ed to a tiny val­ley in south­ern Palawan which is se­ri­ous­ly threat­ened by min­ing con­ces­sions. The Tao’t Bato  have a  sim­i­lar  way  of  life  than  the  Batak,  bas­ing on

cul­ti­va­tion of cas­sa­va and sweet pota­to for liveli­hood, and trad­ing for­est prod­ucts such as rat­tan and al­maci­ga in ex­change of fish and rice. Their cul­ture, in­clud­ing arts and dress­ing, is pret­ty prim­i­tive and dur­ing cer­tain pe­ri­ods of the year live in shel­ters of the for­est rocky out­crops, which they se­cure with rat­tan and bam­boo structures.

The Tao’t Bato, the Batak and the oth­er sur­viv­ing gath­er­er-hunters are not just the her­itage of Palawan or the Philip­pines, but a lega­cy of all hu­mankind, as they are the last com­mu­ni­ties on Earth still liv­ing in har­mo­ny with nature.

Unreal seascapes

“The wa­ter­world”, the oth­er nick­name for Palawan, also makes jus­tice to the place. Its 2,000 km whim­si­cal seashore is com­prised by some of the most beau­ti­ful seascapes on Earth. The fa­mous lime­stone cliffs of El Nido brought Palawan to the cen­tre stage of in­ter­na­tion­al tourism few decades ago. But the is­land wa­ters have in­deed much more to of­fer, such as the breath­tak­ing scenery of Malam­paya Sound, the pris­tine beach­es of Apo­rawan, or the hun­dred desert is­lands of North­east­ern coast.

The island’s un­der­wa­ter is even more out­stand­ing. The best (and some­what last) coral reefs of the Philip­pines are those found in Palawan. They are home to an ex­tra­or­di­nary di­ver­si­ty of hard and soft corals, reef fish­es and in­ver­te­brates, in­clud­ing the en­dan­gered gi­ant clam Tri­dac­na gi­gas. Like­wise vast ar­eas of the con­ti­nen­tal shelf are cov­ered by sea­grass mead­ows, which are ma­jor feed­ing grounds for Dugongs (Dugong dugon) and Green Sea Tur­tles (Ch­e­lo­nia my­das). Far be­yond, in the deep wa­ters sur­round­ing the is­land, dwell the gen­tle gi­ants of the sea, the man­ta rays (Man­ta birostris), whale sharks (Rhin­codon ty­pus), and Minke Whales (Bal­aenoptera acu­toros­tra­ta).

Little details that make the difference

Palawan has pret­ty good in­fra­struc­tures for the re­gion stan­dards. It is tra­versed from tip to tip by care­ful­ly main­tained high­way and counts with an in­ter­na­tion­al air­port that is stopover for more than one mil­lion trav­ellers a year. Its nar­row shape it­self favours tourism very much, as it makes all ar­eas ac­ces­si­ble from the coast. Yet, with El Nido and the Un­der­ground Riv­er at­tract­ing most of vis­i­tors, one can still feel quiet­ness and all over the is­land. Good safe­ty, which is quite rare with­in the Philip­pines, and es­pe­cial­ly the ex­tra­or­di­nary charm of lo­cal peo­ple end up mak­ing the difference.

It is worth end­ing with a men­tion to the fact that na­tion­al gov­ern­ment, through the PCSD (Palawan Coun­cil for Sus­tain­able De­vel­op­ment) and DENR (De­part­ment of En­vi­ron­ment and Nat­ur­al Re­sources), and also the re­gion­al and lo­cal au­thor­i­ties, are in Palawan ful­ly en­gaged in im­ple­ment­ing sus­tain­able de­vel­op­ment poli­cies. Their in­no­v­a­tive ap­proach has led a num­ber of en­vi­ron­men­tal NGOs and eco-friend­ly cor­po­ra­tions, such as Malam­paya Eco­tours, to come and set­tle in the is­land. This is all to­geth­er con­tribut­ing to lay the foun­da­tion for a promis­ing fu­ture for Palawan.

WHY PALAWAN?

The last fron­tier of the Philip­pines” is tru­ly the best pre­served is­land in the arch­i­pel­ago. More than 50% of ter­ri­to­ry is cov­ered by rain­forests, in­clud­ing vast ar­eas of in­tact pri­ma­ry old-growth. Woods are home to an ex­tra­or­di­nary wildlife and to some of the last gath­er­er-hunter tribes in Asia.

A breathtaking nature

Palawan is a long and nar­row is­land (500km long per bare­ly 50km at widest point) which lies right be­tween Bor­neo and the Philip­pines. While po­lit­i­cal­ly be­longs to the lat­er, the island’s na­ture has in­deed much more to do with Bor­neo than with the ocean­ic arch­i­pel­ago. The small strait sep­a­rat­ing both is­lands got emerged sev­er­al times dur­ing glac­i­er pe­ri­ods, thus be­ing Palawan con­nect­ed by a land bridge with the Sun­da Shelf and main­land Asia. As a re­sult, Palawan is nowa­days in­hab­it­ed by some typ­i­cal Malesian fau­na, such as pan­golins (Ma­n­is culio­nen­sis), por­cu­pines (Hystrix  pumi­la),  ot­ters  (Am­blonyx  cinereus),  bearcats (Arc­ti­tis bin­tur­ong), leaf tur­tles (Cy­clemys den­ta­ta), and Dark-Eared Treefrogs (Polype­dates macro­tis). Like­wise, some birds found in Bor­neo and Palawan, but ab­sent in the rest of the Philip­pines, are the Fairy Blue­bird (Ire­na puel­la), Hill Myna (Grac­u­la re­li­giosa), Chest­nut-breast­ed Malko­ha (Phaeni­cophaeus curvi­rostris), and the large wood­peck­ers Mul­leripi­cus pul­veru­len­tus and Dri­o­co­pus javen­sis.

More­over, the pre­vail­ing cur­rents and winds end­ed up lit­ter­ing the is­land with cast­aways com­ing from the neigh­bour­ing Philip­pine arch­i­pel­ago. There are also many ex­am­ples of this among birds, be­ing cock­a­toos (Ca­cat­ua haematur­opy­gia), rac­que­tails (Pri­on­i­tu­rus plate­nae), Philip­pine Ducks (Anas lu­zon­i­ca), and Tabon Scrub­fowls (Megapodius cumingii) some of the most no­table. But aside from links with neigh­bour­ing ter­ri­to­ries Palawan is, and has been for a long time, an is­land. Insu­la­tion pe­ri­ods have thus yield­ed an out­stand­ing ar­ray of en­demics, rang­ing from bizarre pitch­er plants (Ne­penthes palawa­nen­sis, N. man­talin­ga­ja­nen­sis, N. at­ten­bor­oughii) to ma­jes­tic fly­ing fox­es (Acerodon leu­co­tis). Also unique to the is­land are the Palawan Stink Bad­ger (My­daus marchei), Palawan Horned Frog (Megophrys lig­ayae), Palawan Toadlet (Pelophryne al­b­o­tae­ni­a­ta), Philip­pine For­est Tur­tle (Sieben­rock­iel­la leyten­sis), and the pur­ple fresh­wa­ter crab In­su­lamon palawa­nense, as well as a num­ber of birds such as the Palawan Pea­cock-Pheas­ant (Polyplectron em­phanum), Palawan Horn­bill (An­thra­co­ceros marchei), Yel­low-throat­ed Leaf­bird (Chlorop­sis palawa­nen­sis), Palawan Tit (Parus am­a­bilis), Palawan Fly­catch­er (Ficedu­la plate­nae), Blue Par­adise-fly­catch­er (Terp­si­phone cyanescens), and Palawan Flow­er­peck­er (Pri­onochilus plateni).

Palawan’s bi­o­log­i­cal rich­ness melts with the most scenic land­scape one may imag­ine. Dom­i­nat­ed by a moun­tain range rais­ing more 2,000 m (6,500 ft) from the sea lev­el, topog­ra­phy crum­bles dra­mat­i­cal­ly into the ocean. Rain feeds hun­dreds of rivers that flow hasty into end­less de­sert­ed beach­es sur­round­ed by jun­gle and some of the tallest man­grove forests of the planet.

The last gatherer-hunters

Lit­tle has changed since their an­ces­tors in­hab­it­ed the Tabon Caves, aside from the few odd vis­i­tors that from time to time now come to the vil­lage. Whether in the thick­ets around Cleopatra’s Nee­dle or in the re­mote Singna­pan Val­ley, the gath­er­er-hunters of Palawan still leave like thou­sand years ago, knowl­edge­able of but vol­un­tar­i­ly obliv­i­ous to the tech­no­log­ic rac­ing go­ing on out there, as they did in the past with the Chi­nese, Arab and Malay traders.

The na­tive peo­ples of Palawan, like wildlife, col­o­nized the is­land from neigh­bour­ing Bor­neo. Both eth­ni­cal and cul­tur­al­ly are re­lat­ed with the Dayak tribes and, like them, live ful­ly in­te­grat­ed in na­ture. The Batak, who share phys­i­cal ap­pear­ance with the negri­to group of cen­tral Lu­zon (the Aeta), live off itin­er­ant kain­gin (slash and burn), sub­sis­tence agri­cul­ture, and the trade of rat­tan, al­maci­ga, and hon­ey with the low­lan­ders. They are an­i­mists and their be­liefs are deeply root­ed on their re­la­tion­ship with the spir­its of na­ture. Nowa­days there are just about 500 Batak left in Palawan, with their num­bers grad­u­al­ly de­creas­ing as they are ab­sorbed by sur­round­ing com­mu­ni­ties (the Batak rarely mar­ry with­in their own group).

The case of the Tao’t Bato, lit­er­al­ly “the peo­ple of the rocks”, is even more dra­mat­ic. This small Palaw’an tribe is re­strict­ed to a tiny val­ley in south­ern Palawan which is se­ri­ous­ly threat­ened by min­ing con­ces­sions. The Tao’t Bato  have a  sim­i­lar  way  of  life  than  the  Batak,  bas­ing  on cul­ti­va­tion of cas­sa­va and sweet pota­to for liveli­hood, and trad­ing for­est prod­ucts such as rat­tan and al­maci­ga in ex­change of fish and rice. Their cul­ture, in­clud­ing arts and dress­ing, is pret­ty prim­i­tive and dur­ing cer­tain pe­ri­ods of the year live in shel­ters of the for­est rocky out­crops, which they se­cure with rat­tan and bam­boo structures.

The Tao’t Bato, the Batak and the oth­er sur­viv­ing gath­er­er-hunters are not just the her­itage of Palawan or the Philip­pines, but a lega­cy of all hu­mankind, as they are the last com­mu­ni­ties on Earth still liv­ing in har­mo­ny with nature.

Unreal seascapes

“The wa­ter­world”, the oth­er nick­name for Palawan, also makes jus­tice to the place. Its 2,000 km whim­si­cal seashore is com­prised by some of the most beau­ti­ful seascapes on Earth. The fa­mous lime­stone cliffs of El Nido brought Palawan to the cen­tre stage of in­ter­na­tion­al tourism few decades ago. But the is­land wa­ters have in­deed much more to of­fer, such as the breath­tak­ing scenery of Malam­paya Sound, the pris­tine beach­es of Apo­rawan, or the hun­dred desert is­lands of North­east­ern coast.

The island’s un­der­wa­ter is even more out­stand­ing. The best (and some­what last) coral reefs of the Philip­pines are those found in Palawan. They are home to an ex­tra­or­di­nary di­ver­si­ty of hard and soft corals, reef fish­es and in­ver­te­brates, in­clud­ing the en­dan­gered gi­ant clam Tri­dac­na gi­gas. Like­wise vast ar­eas of the con­ti­nen­tal shelf are cov­ered by sea­grass mead­ows, which are ma­jor feed­ing grounds for Dugongs (Dugong dugon) and Green Sea Tur­tles (Ch­e­lo­nia my­das). Far be­yond, in the deep wa­ters sur­round­ing the is­land, dwell the gen­tle gi­ants of the sea, the man­ta rays (Man­ta birostris), whale sharks (Rhin­codon ty­pus), and Minke Whales (Bal­aenoptera acu­toros­tra­ta).

Little details that make the difference

Palawan has pret­ty good in­fra­struc­tures for the re­gion stan­dards. It is tra­versed from tip to tip by care­ful­ly main­tained high­way and counts with an in­ter­na­tion­al air­port that is stopover for more than one mil­lion trav­ellers a year. Its nar­row shape it­self favours tourism very much, as it makes all ar­eas ac­ces­si­ble from the coast. Yet, with El Nido and the Un­der­ground Riv­er at­tract­ing most of vis­i­tors, one can still feel quiet­ness and all over the is­land. Good safe­ty, which is quite rare with­in the Philip­pines, and es­pe­cial­ly the ex­tra­or­di­nary charm of lo­cal peo­ple end up mak­ing the difference.

It is worth end­ing with a men­tion to the fact that na­tion­al gov­ern­ment, through the PCSD (Palawan Coun­cil for Sus­tain­able De­vel­op­ment) and DENR (De­part­ment of En­vi­ron­ment and Nat­ur­al Re­sources), and also the re­gion­al and lo­cal au­thor­i­ties, are in Palawan ful­ly en­gaged in im­ple­ment­ing sus­tain­able de­vel­op­ment poli­cies. Their in­no­v­a­tive ap­proach has led a num­ber of en­vi­ron­men­tal NGOs and eco-friend­ly cor­po­ra­tions, such as Malam­paya Eco­tours, to come and set­tle in the is­land. This is all to­geth­er con­tribut­ing to lay the foun­da­tion for a promis­ing fu­ture for Palawan.

WHY PALAWAN?

The last fron­tier of the Philip­pines” is tru­ly the best pre­served is­land in the arch­i­pel­ago. More than 50% of ter­ri­to­ry is cov­ered by rain­forests, in­clud­ing vast ar­eas of in­tact pri­ma­ry old-growth. Woods are home to an ex­tra­or­di­nary wildlife and to some of the last gath­er­er-hunter tribes in Asia.

A breathtaking nature

Palawan is a long and nar­row is­land (500km long per bare­ly 50km at widest point) which lies right be­tween Bor­neo and the Philip­pines. While po­lit­i­cal­ly be­longs to the lat­er, the island’s na­ture has in­deed much more to do with Bor­neo than with the ocean­ic arch­i­pel­ago. The small strait sep­a­rat­ing both is­lands got emerged sev­er­al times dur­ing glac­i­er pe­ri­ods, thus be­ing Palawan con­nect­ed by a land bridge with the Sun­da Shelf and main­land Asia. As a re­sult, Palawan is nowa­days in­hab­it­ed by some typ­i­cal Male­sian fau­na, such as pan­golins (Ma­n­is culio­nen­sis), por­cu­pines (Hys­trix pumi­la), ot­ters (Am­blonyx cinereus), bearcats (Arc­ti­tis bin­tur­ong), leaf tur­tles (Cy­clemys den­ta­ta), and Dark-Eared Treefrogs (Polype­dates macro­tis). Like­wise, some birds found in Bor­neo and Palawan, but ab­sent in the rest of the Philip­pines, are the Fairy Blue­bird (Ire­na puel­la), Hill Myna (Grac­u­la re­li­giosa), Chest­nut-breast­ed Malko­ha (Phaeni­cophaeus curvi­rostris), and the large wood­peck­ers Mul­leripi­cus pul­veru­len­tus and Dri­o­co­pus javen­sis.

More­over, the pre­vail­ing cur­rents and winds end­ed up lit­ter­ing the is­land with cast­aways com­ing from the neigh­bour­ing Philip­pine arch­i­pel­ago. There are also many ex­am­ples of this among birds, be­ing cock­a­toos (Ca­cat­ua haematur­opy­gia), rac­que­tails (Pri­on­i­tu­rus plate­nae), Philip­pine Ducks (Anas lu­zon­i­ca), and Tabon Scrub­fowls (Megapodius cumingii) some of the most notable.

But aside from links with neigh­bour­ing ter­ri­to­ries Palawan is, and has been for a long time, an is­land. In­su­la­tion pe­ri­ods have thus yield­ed an out­stand­ing ar­ray of en­demics, rang­ing from bizarre pitch­er plants (Ne­penthes palawa­nen­sis, N. man­talin­ga­ja­nen­sis, N. at­ten­bor­oughii) to ma­jes­tic fly­ing fox­es (Acerodon leu­co­tis). Also unique to the is­land are the Palawan Stink Bad­ger (My­daus marchei), Palawan Horned Frog (Megophrys lig­ayae), Palawan Toadlet (Pelophryne al­b­o­tae­ni­a­ta), Philip­pine For­est Tur­tle (Sieben­rock­iel­la leyten­sis), and the pur­ple fresh­wa­ter crab In­su­la­m­on palawa­nense, as well as a num­ber of birds such as the Palawan Pea­cock-Pheas­ant (Poly­plec­tron em­phanum), Palawan Horn­bill (An­thra­co­ceros marchei), Yel­low-throat­ed Leaf­bird (Chlorop­sis palawa­nen­sis), Palawan Tit (Parus am­a­bilis), Palawan Fly­catch­er (Ficedu­la plate­nae), Blue Par­adise-fly­catch­er (Terp­si­phone cyanescens), and Palawan Flow­er­peck­er (Pri­onochilus plateni).

Palawan’s bi­o­log­i­cal rich­ness melts with the most scenic land­scape one may imag­ine. Dom­i­nat­ed by a moun­tain range rais­ing more 2,000 m (6,500 ft) from the sea lev­el, topog­ra­phy crum­bles dra­mat­i­cal­ly into the ocean. Rain feeds hun­dreds of rivers that flow hasty into end­less de­sert­ed beach­es sur­round­ed by jun­gle and some of the tallest man­grove forests of the planet.

The last gatherer-hunters

Lit­tle has changed since their an­ces­tors in­hab­it­ed the Tabon Caves, aside from the few odd vis­i­tors that from time to time now come to the vil­lage. Whether in the thick­ets around Cleopatra’s Nee­dle or in the re­mote Singna­pan Val­ley, the gath­er­er-hunters of Palawan still leave like thou­sand years ago, knowl­edge­able of but vol­un­tar­i­ly obliv­i­ous to the tech­no­log­ic rac­ing go­ing on out there, as they did in the past with the Chi­nese, Arab and Malay traders.

The na­tive peo­ples of Palawan, like wildlife, col­o­nized the is­land from neigh­bour­ing Bor­neo. Both eth­ni­cal and cul­tur­al­ly are re­lat­ed with the Dayak tribes and, like them, live ful­ly in­te­grat­ed in na­ture. The Batak, who share phys­i­cal ap­pear­ance with the negri­to group of cen­tral Lu­zon (the Aeta), live off itin­er­ant kain­gin (slash and burn), sub­sis­tence agri­cul­ture, and the trade of rat­tan, al­maci­ga, and hon­ey with the low­lan­ders. They are an­i­mists and their be­liefs are deeply root­ed on their re­la­tion­ship with the spir­its of na­ture. Nowa­days there are just about 500 Batak left in Palawan, with their num­bers grad­u­al­ly de­creas­ing as they are ab­sorbed by sur­round­ing com­mu­ni­ties (the Batak rarely mar­ry with­in their own group).

The case of the Tao’t Bato, lit­er­al­ly “the peo­ple of the rocks”, is even more dra­mat­ic. This small Palaw’an tribe is re­strict­ed to a tiny val­ley in south­ern Palawan which is se­ri­ous­ly threat­ened by min­ing con­ces­sions. The Tao’t Bato have a sim­i­lar way of life than the Batak, bas­ing on cul­ti­va­tion of cas­sa­va and sweet pota­to for liveli­hood, and trad­ing for­est prod­ucts such as rat­tan and al­maci­ga in ex­change of fish and rice. Their cul­ture, in­clud­ing arts and dress­ing, is pret­ty prim­i­tive and dur­ing cer­tain pe­ri­ods of the year live in shel­ters of the for­est rocky out­crops, which they se­cure with rat­tan and bam­boo structures.

The Tao’t Bato, the Batak and the oth­er sur­viv­ing gath­er­er-hunters are not just the her­itage of Palawan or the Philip­pines, but a lega­cy of all hu­mankind, as they are the last com­mu­ni­ties on Earth still liv­ing in har­mo­ny with nature.

Unreal seascapes

“The wa­ter­world”, the oth­er nick­name for Palawan, also makes jus­tice to the place. Its 2,000 km whim­si­cal seashore is com­prised by some of the most beau­ti­ful seascapes on Earth. The fa­mous lime­stone cliffs of El Nido brought Palawan to the cen­tre stage of in­ter­na­tion­al tourism few decades ago. But the is­land wa­ters have in­deed much more to of­fer, such as the breath­tak­ing scenery of Malam­paya Sound, the pris­tine beach­es of Apo­rawan, or the hun­dred desert is­lands of North­east­ern coast.

The island’s un­der­wa­ter is even more out­stand­ing. The best (and some­what last) coral reefs of the Philip­pines are those found in Palawan. They are home to an ex­tra­or­di­nary di­ver­si­ty of hard and soft corals, reef fish­es and in­ver­te­brates, in­clud­ing the en­dan­gered gi­ant clam Tri­dac­na gi­gas. Like­wise vast ar­eas of the con­ti­nen­tal shelf are cov­ered by sea­grass mead­ows, which are ma­jor feed­ing grounds for Dugongs (Dugong dugon) and Green Sea Tur­tles (Ch­e­lo­nia my­das). Far be­yond, in the deep wa­ters sur­round­ing the is­land, dwell the gen­tle gi­ants of the sea, the man­ta rays (Man­ta birostris), whale sharks (Rhin­codon ty­pus), and Minke Whales (Bal­aenoptera acu­toros­tra­ta).

Little details that make the difference

Palawan has pret­ty good in­fra­struc­tures for the re­gion stan­dards. It is tra­versed from tip to tip by care­ful­ly main­tained high­way and counts with an in­ter­na­tion­al air­port that is stopover for more than one mil­lion trav­ellers a year. Its nar­row shape it­self favours tourism very much, as it makes all ar­eas ac­ces­si­ble from the coast. Yet, with El Nido and the Un­der­ground Riv­er at­tract­ing most of vis­i­tors, one can still feel quiet­ness and all over the is­land. Good safe­ty, which is quite rare with­in the Philip­pines, and es­pe­cial­ly the ex­tra­or­di­nary charm of lo­cal peo­ple end up mak­ing the difference.

It is worth end­ing with a men­tion to the fact that na­tion­al gov­ern­ment, through the PCSD (Palawan Coun­cil for Sus­tain­able De­vel­op­ment) and DENR (De­part­ment of En­vi­ron­ment and Nat­ur­al Re­sources), and also the re­gion­al and lo­cal au­thor­i­ties, are in Palawan ful­ly en­gaged in im­ple­ment­ing sus­tain­able de­vel­op­ment poli­cies. Their in­no­v­a­tive ap­proach has led a num­ber of en­vi­ron­men­tal NGOs and eco-friend­ly cor­po­ra­tions, such as Malam­paya Eco­tours, to come and set­tle in the is­land. This is all to­geth­er con­tribut­ing to lay the foun­da­tion for a promis­ing fu­ture for Palawan.