“They’re usually this big,” Dadong says in Tagalog, tapping the boat he’s perched on. ”When we’re hungry, we would just go out to sea and catch some dolphins. It was just like catching chickens,” he adds so matter-of-factly that I could only stare at him and nod, half-fascinated, half-disturbed.By the time he compared the texture of whales and dolphins when cooked, I was speechless. He had me at adobo. It was a sunny Saturday when my husband and I landed on Pamilacan, whose waters are renowned in the Visayas as the “playground of dolphins.” The Boholanos weren’t kidding. During the 45-minute boat trip from Baclayon to Pamilacan, we were escorted by at least 20 spinner dolphins at any one time. They were so cute and friendly and… alive, it didn’t occur to me what they’d look like in a frying pan. Then again, we were merely visitors to the island, strangers to a culture whose children, at age 10, were taught that cetaceans are food. Now in their 40s, they are learning differently and struggling to survive the consequences of doing …