Yet another unexpected in a life of unexpecteds, I find myself now writing tonight from those wonderful islands to the West of Vietnam and to the North of Malaysia ...
Indeed, with two weeks notice I found myself packing a bag with 25 kilos (about 50 pounds??) of books, jumping on a plane to find a flight crew wearing traditional Thai silk formal dresses serving nose-drip-inducing spicy curry airplane food (who knew airplane food could be anything other than bland!) observing the viscerally sickening mix of male passengers that left more than a lingering doubt as to whether they were headed to Southeast Asia for the beaches or the women (or, worse, the children), putsing around Bangkok just long enough to befriend a group of extraordinarily outgoing Bangladeshi's and entertain their questions as to A) who is going to win the US elections and B) whether I am Phillipina (?!), fly threw Philippino customs with only just enough time to gaze curiously as the Overseas Filipino Worker Express Lanes (I suppose one would have to hope that more than a few of the 120 Philippinos per hour who depart for jobs abroad would return at some time or another), smile bemusedly as the somewhat entertaining and quintessentially Philippino creatures that are jeepneys, and lug my obscenely heavy suitcase up the stairs of the "deluxe, five star luxury" - are we really NGOs? - hotel in Manila ... the heat and terrible humidity being the indiscriminate cause of the gallons of sweat pouring down my back. Welcome to the Philippines.
This, of course, is not the final description, but rather the beginning. But then, to be a truly accurate description of "the beginning" you would most certainly have to add the anecdote of my somewhat desperate search for a cash machine nearby the hotel, seeing as they whisked us away from the airport with such haste that that even Speedy Gonzalez would not have had time to withdraw. Thus, upon explaining to the concierge for the twentieth time that no, the ATM machines at the mall were not an option unless he cared to sponsor my transportation to GET there in the first place, he finally conceded that there was an ATM just around the corner. Happily heading for the door with my directions in hand, he adds - with what I have learned to be the Philippine epitome of politeness - "But ma'am, I would suggest you remove all of your jewelry and leave your purse in your room before you go". Mmmhhmm. Wearing no jewelry anyhow and having only my trusty Timbuktoo-nearly-impossible-to-rob bag, I thanked him for the warning and headed out.
I don't think I had walked even 10 meters when I suddenly was surrounded by six pairs of small, groping, clasp-like hands, had two small children clinging on to each of my legs in the same way we used to do to my Dad when we wanted to walk on his feet, and saw a seventh (or was is eighth?) little boy come tearing around the corner carrying an infant in his arms and running so quickly I thought the baby's head was going to be broken off. Naively, I thought something terrible had happened to the baby and he was in search of mom ... though it quickly became apparent that he was hoping his tactic would be more fruitful in producing coins from the "white lady" than that of the monkey kids. Soo, we awkwardly hobbled to the chants of "No, no money - money? money? - No, no money - money? money?" for about two blocks as I tried to figure out just how I was going to get cash from the machine in such a state, when suddenly a waiting jeepney driver simply went "tschhhh" and they all disappeared before I could even see which direction they had gone. Poverty in the Philippines ... you have to wonder, where was mom? Considering the stats here, chances are good she's off working in the Middle East or the US.
In fact, I had imagined blogging about much more than these first moments tonight, about the conference, about the protests, about the police, about the absolutely unrivaled friendliness of the Philippine people, but seeing as this has already seemed to convert itself into a mini novel I suppose we best leave it here, certainly with several a sequel to come ...
In the meantime, I leave you with this image of the day (above), anyone want to take a stab at what my later commentary to go with it will say?
Indeed, with two weeks notice I found myself packing a bag with 25 kilos (about 50 pounds??) of books, jumping on a plane to find a flight crew wearing traditional Thai silk formal dresses serving nose-drip-inducing spicy curry airplane food (who knew airplane food could be anything other than bland!) observing the viscerally sickening mix of male passengers that left more than a lingering doubt as to whether they were headed to Southeast Asia for the beaches or the women (or, worse, the children), putsing around Bangkok just long enough to befriend a group of extraordinarily outgoing Bangladeshi's and entertain their questions as to A) who is going to win the US elections and B) whether I am Phillipina (?!), fly threw Philippino customs with only just enough time to gaze curiously as the Overseas Filipino Worker Express Lanes (I suppose one would have to hope that more than a few of the 120 Philippinos per hour who depart for jobs abroad would return at some time or another), smile bemusedly as the somewhat entertaining and quintessentially Philippino creatures that are jeepneys, and lug my obscenely heavy suitcase up the stairs of the "deluxe, five star luxury" - are we really NGOs? - hotel in Manila ... the heat and terrible humidity being the indiscriminate cause of the gallons of sweat pouring down my back. Welcome to the Philippines.
This, of course, is not the final description, but rather the beginning. But then, to be a truly accurate description of "the beginning" you would most certainly have to add the anecdote of my somewhat desperate search for a cash machine nearby the hotel, seeing as they whisked us away from the airport with such haste that that even Speedy Gonzalez would not have had time to withdraw. Thus, upon explaining to the concierge for the twentieth time that no, the ATM machines at the mall were not an option unless he cared to sponsor my transportation to GET there in the first place, he finally conceded that there was an ATM just around the corner. Happily heading for the door with my directions in hand, he adds - with what I have learned to be the Philippine epitome of politeness - "But ma'am, I would suggest you remove all of your jewelry and leave your purse in your room before you go". Mmmhhmm. Wearing no jewelry anyhow and having only my trusty Timbuktoo-nearly-impossible-to-rob bag, I thanked him for the warning and headed out.
I don't think I had walked even 10 meters when I suddenly was surrounded by six pairs of small, groping, clasp-like hands, had two small children clinging on to each of my legs in the same way we used to do to my Dad when we wanted to walk on his feet, and saw a seventh (or was is eighth?) little boy come tearing around the corner carrying an infant in his arms and running so quickly I thought the baby's head was going to be broken off. Naively, I thought something terrible had happened to the baby and he was in search of mom ... though it quickly became apparent that he was hoping his tactic would be more fruitful in producing coins from the "white lady" than that of the monkey kids. Soo, we awkwardly hobbled to the chants of "No, no money - money? money? - No, no money - money? money?" for about two blocks as I tried to figure out just how I was going to get cash from the machine in such a state, when suddenly a waiting jeepney driver simply went "tschhhh" and they all disappeared before I could even see which direction they had gone. Poverty in the Philippines ... you have to wonder, where was mom? Considering the stats here, chances are good she's off working in the Middle East or the US.
In fact, I had imagined blogging about much more than these first moments tonight, about the conference, about the protests, about the police, about the absolutely unrivaled friendliness of the Philippine people, but seeing as this has already seemed to convert itself into a mini novel I suppose we best leave it here, certainly with several a sequel to come ...
In the meantime, I leave you with this image of the day (above), anyone want to take a stab at what my later commentary to go with it will say?
1 comments:
You live an incredible life, my friend! Can't wait for the sequels. :)
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