"AND WE'RE BACK!!!!"
Sorry about that - that post about the Philippines was certainly cut off a tad bit sooner than I would have liked and finished a tad later as well. When I began writing this post, we were actually already in Hong Kong, so I better finish this behemoth of a blog post (bloghemoth?) so that we can move onwards! Otherwise I may have to delay our flights so I can catch up with my writing. I know, I know, Lucy already wrote about most of this - I'll probably be providing precious few surprises for many of you, but I'm determined to turn these five tiny scrawled pages of notes into a proper story! If you don't want to read ahead of my story, don't read Lucy's email yet!!!
"Lost in Manila"
So, yeah, three days in Manila, before we headed onwards to see a bit more than a humid hot city with relatively nothing to do. Quick note, here: there were about two different reactions when people were told I/we would be going on this trip - 1) "That's great!" 2) "How are you paying for this trip? Are you secretly a drug lord, or did you invest in Euros, or perhaps are you an undercover sultan?" The answer to the latter response is layered, but involved factors such as this: One night at Friendly's Guest House in Manila? 900 pesos - not quite 22 American dollars. The showers are cold, but I mean 22 dollars?? Come on! More on this later. At Friendly's, we watched Lost. A lot of Lost? Sort of. But not as much as other people. The sleepy-eyed masses would be up there watching Lost dvds at every point over these few days. We would come back at 2 in the afternoon - people would be watching Lost. We would come back and head up to the common room to see what people were doing at midnight before we went to sleep - Lost. We would wake up the next morning and run up the common room to see if Benjie was there - The same people would be watching Lost. Everyone speaks English, so I'm not sure exactly why the subtitles are on, but they are darn entertaining. It makes me realize that they probably bough lost for 40 pesos onthe side of the street or something. "Jack, I have not with." "Do not for my to be hold fast. Has to Kate if by and to. and." Very poignant dialogue.
I remember meeting a patient from my work who spends the majority of every year in The Philippines. He's not Filipino, just stays there. When I engaged him in conversation one day, I asked where in the country he lives? Manila, perhaps? And he responded that he never goes to Manila. Ever. And quite frankly, I can see why. A couple highlights from Manila, even so. Benjie, owner of Friendly's, and good helpful guide, for anyone who ends up there, took us to a German restaurant in Makati, Manila. As in, big ole German chef walks around (towering at roughly twice the height of even the tallest of the Filipino patrons), almost just to prove that he's actually there, asks how your meal was, and hands out Haribo gummies to the children in the restaurant. He's easily a foot taller than anyone else there. The restaurant was way good. I ate pork knuckles and I'm not ashamed. Take THAT, arteries!!! Although now I can't tell if pork knuckles are more German or more Filipino.
Another definite highlight from Manila - the Philippine National Museum right near Rizal park.
The museum on the whole seems almost abandoned. It's the middle of the day, so of course, no one's really even out, let alone in the mood to walk through a huge park to a museum. Walking in, you see a series of large wooden doors down hallways. They are all closed. It seems almost more like a quiet office park, and in order to see if a gallery is open, you pretty much have to try the door. There are about 4 galleries on each floor, and each floor has at least one or two galleries whose doors don't open. The majority of the exhibits in the museum are artifacts recovered from shipwrecks - from chinese bowls to spanish utensils, and so on - essentially it seems as though the entire museum is dedicated to reconstructing the country's history from what didn't make it to its destination. Very interesting, but it was sort of the kind of situation where, after the 57th variation on a ceramic pot, your mind is understandably prone to wander. We were considering leaving before reaching the building's top floor, but were quite happy we didn't. On the top floor was a gallery featuring art (finally!), all new art from the current generation of Filipino artists, all of which had been honored with a special exhibition. The variety of media andtechniques was staggering and impressive - a vast exhibit, very encouraging to know that the younger generation has such a vivid sense of art and creativity. And though there was such a variety of subjects presented in a myriad of ways, each piece spoke to the troubling sociopolitical atmosphere of The Philippines. In so many ways, it seems a country poised on the brink of extinction. The government is undeniably and transparently corrupt, the people poor, the land suffering. But a country can't just disappear, and so it is trapped in a spiral of problems, all of which compound upon each other. A very disconcerting thing, especially for what I would soon find to be the most beautiful place I've ever seen.
Side Context: When Lucy lived here, she would take trips for her studies into the country, away from Manila. The state of the streets would shift constantly - two paved roads, only one paved road, no paved roads. Local officials, in order to receive funding for projects, must supply before and after photographs of roads. Often, they will take a picture of a section before, have only that section paved, take a picture of it after, collect their money, and neglect the rest of the road. Or, some will check to see who voted for them in the last election. If you didn't, the mark would show as a road unpaved right in your neighborhood, in front of your house.
This turmoil was absolutely reflected in the museum's top floor artwork. One of the most stunning pieces was a canvas, sectioned off into a sea of small geometric shapes by metal walls lying on top of it. Inside each metal compartment, on the canvas, was painted a mummified figure, bent to adjust to the shape of its container. I know, sort of difficult to explain, but the piece was absolutely stunning, regardless. I suppose the grander idea here is that these artists know what the many things are that are wrong with the country, the people who awarded them prizes and chose to display their work also know, pretty much everyone knows, but there's really no clear way to fix it.
"Onwards"
So, the very first place we decided to go was up north to see the rice terraces in Batad and Banaue. There is an overnight bus which leaves from Manila - you get on it, fall asleep, and BAM: 7 o'clock in the morning, you wake up, and you're in Banaue! Easy, right? Sort of. Essentially, the moment we decide to head up to the bus station, there is a torrential downpour, and we are greeted by a series of taxis who decide that they are not going to turn on the meter - instead, they ask "How much will you pay me?" Of course, when we send these taxis away (we always do - it's a matter of sense not to encourage them by paying the "I'm an American" tax), we find one old man who doesn't want to take us to that area because it floods. After calling the number listed on the ticket, to find another way (the number actually does not connect you to the bus company - rather, puts you on the phone with a confused man who does not speak English, except for the phrase "I am not a taxi." Thanks a lot.) Aaaanyway, we sort of "OhGodwhatdowedo" our way into making the driver take us anyways. It was not flooded and I think we tipped him about 100 percent.
Getting on the bus, it is cold. End of story. Freezing freezing icicles-growing-down-your-earlobes-like-Jack-Frost cold. We manage to kind of sleep our way through it. Very nicely, before I drift off to a state which may have been sleep, may have been a state in which my body is cooled to a point at which it just slows down, not unlike cryogenics, I watch the beginning of the in-bus movie, Casino Royale, which I'm quite partial to. I watch Daniel Craig chase a guy along a crane, I watch a building blow up, and I drift off. Not long after, I shift and wake up. Craning my neck to see the screen, I see Judi Dench discussing in her apartment with Daniel Craig. Except, I seem to have missed the point at which the film switched over to voiceovers in Russian. The rest of the movie is in Russian. I don't know why. Probably the same geniuses who operated on those subtitles for Lost. So, the sun comes up, 7 o'clock rolls around, and just like I said it: BAM. We're in Banaue.
Banaue is well known for its rice terraces. If you go into a travel agency in Manila, all the posters depicting rice terraces will say "BANAUE." This is where everyone goes, where tourists would outnumber the Filipinos, if there weren't so darn many Filipinos. Thus, it is also well known that all of the people getting off the bus are tourists, and very likely have no idea where they are or where to go. (If you hear sirens go off in your head, and a disembodied voice yelling, "Danger, Will Robinson, Danger!!!" you are right to hear that). I'm still wiping the sleep drool off my cheek, when people have already gotten off, but a small bunch of people from Banaue have gotten on. "Are you looking for a place to stay?" "Hotel?" "Breakfast?" etc. etc. Now, we knew that this place was not where we wanted to stay. Down the road from Banaue is the quieter less-travelled town of Batad, and we knew that, in order to avoid this hubbub (sp?), we would make a beeline for Batad, and maybe walk through Banaue the last day, on our way out of the rice terrace area. So, we already had this in mind. A teenage kid comes up to us, as we gather our things, still on the bus. "Are you looking for a hotel?" We say no, we already have a place in mind. "Where in Banaue is your hotel?" We're not staying in Banaue. He seems shocked "You are not staying in Banaue?" "No," I replied, "we are staying in Batad. "
I see a beat pass very quickly in his mind. Very quickly - if you weren't watching him closely, you might not even notice his decision to go for it. He stares back at me blankly, and speaks mock-dumb, "...that exists...?" I laugh and walk off the bus. It's hard not to. God bless this kid, for really going for it. He could be a crooked politician when he grows up, if he works hard enough.
If I didn't know better, I would have likely believed him. This is why it seems challenging at times to travel in the Philippines. It seems "easy" to get taken advantage of, and that seems to scare people. But, in all reality, you could potentially go to a series of all-inclusive resorts. And if you want a little adventure, all you have to do is have your wits about you - just as if you were back home in America. If a teenager comes on your bus, as you get off of it in the middle of New York or something, and starts asking you if you need a place to stay, I assume you wouldn't smile, grab his hand, and yell "Okay, buddy, whatever you say! I trust you completely!" Same here. People like this kid have it down to an art. He knows we're not staying there. He knows Batad exists, it's the only other town there. But either we know what we're talking about or we don't. If we know what we're talking about, he doesn't have us anyways, but if we don't, then he might as well go for broke. Which he did. Anyway, that wasn't really completely the end of the troubles. Getting off the bus, you can see the people who knew absolutely what they were doing had already gone on their way, and a few unfortunate people were being hassled by people like the kid on the bus. All we had to do, was to find a way to get down the road to Batad.
Dun dun dunnnnnn....
More to come sooner than later, friends and neighbors!!!
Another definite highlight from Manila - the Philippine National Museum right near Rizal park.
The museum on the whole seems almost abandoned. It's the middle of the day, so of course, no one's really even out, let alone in the mood to walk through a huge park to a museum. Walking in, you see a series of large wooden doors down hallways. They are all closed. It seems almost more like a quiet office park, and in order to see if a gallery is open, you pretty much have to try the door. There are about 4 galleries on each floor, and each floor has at least one or two galleries whose doors don't open. The majority of the exhibits in the museum are artifacts recovered from shipwrecks - from chinese bowls to spanish utensils, and so on - essentially it seems as though the entire museum is dedicated to reconstructing the country's history from what didn't make it to its destination. Very interesting, but it was sort of the kind of situation where, after the 57th variation on a ceramic pot, your mind is understandably prone to wander. We were considering leaving before reaching the building's top floor, but were quite happy we didn't. On the top floor was a gallery featuring art (finally!), all new art from the current generation of Filipino artists, all of which had been honored with a special exhibition. The variety of media andtechniques was staggering and impressive - a vast exhibit, very encouraging to know that the younger generation has such a vivid sense of art and creativity. And though there was such a variety of subjects presented in a myriad of ways, each piece spoke to the troubling sociopolitical atmosphere of The Philippines. In so many ways, it seems a country poised on the brink of extinction. The government is undeniably and transparently corrupt, the people poor, the land suffering. But a country can't just disappear, and so it is trapped in a spiral of problems, all of which compound upon each other. A very disconcerting thing, especially for what I would soon find to be the most beautiful place I've ever seen.
Side Context: When Lucy lived here, she would take trips for her studies into the country, away from Manila. The state of the streets would shift constantly - two paved roads, only one paved road, no paved roads. Local officials, in order to receive funding for projects, must supply before and after photographs of roads. Often, they will take a picture of a section before, have only that section paved, take a picture of it after, collect their money, and neglect the rest of the road. Or, some will check to see who voted for them in the last election. If you didn't, the mark would show as a road unpaved right in your neighborhood, in front of your house.
This turmoil was absolutely reflected in the museum's top floor artwork. One of the most stunning pieces was a canvas, sectioned off into a sea of small geometric shapes by metal walls lying on top of it. Inside each metal compartment, on the canvas, was painted a mummified figure, bent to adjust to the shape of its container. I know, sort of difficult to explain, but the piece was absolutely stunning, regardless. I suppose the grander idea here is that these artists know what the many things are that are wrong with the country, the people who awarded them prizes and chose to display their work also know, pretty much everyone knows, but there's really no clear way to fix it.
"Onwards"
So, the very first place we decided to go was up north to see the rice terraces in Batad and Banaue. There is an overnight bus which leaves from Manila - you get on it, fall asleep, and BAM: 7 o'clock in the morning, you wake up, and you're in Banaue! Easy, right? Sort of. Essentially, the moment we decide to head up to the bus station, there is a torrential downpour, and we are greeted by a series of taxis who decide that they are not going to turn on the meter - instead, they ask "How much will you pay me?" Of course, when we send these taxis away (we always do - it's a matter of sense not to encourage them by paying the "I'm an American" tax), we find one old man who doesn't want to take us to that area because it floods. After calling the number listed on the ticket, to find another way (the number actually does not connect you to the bus company - rather, puts you on the phone with a confused man who does not speak English, except for the phrase "I am not a taxi." Thanks a lot.) Aaaanyway, we sort of "OhGodwhatdowedo" our way into making the driver take us anyways. It was not flooded and I think we tipped him about 100 percent.
Getting on the bus, it is cold. End of story. Freezing freezing icicles-growing-down-your-earlobes-like-Jack-Frost cold. We manage to kind of sleep our way through it. Very nicely, before I drift off to a state which may have been sleep, may have been a state in which my body is cooled to a point at which it just slows down, not unlike cryogenics, I watch the beginning of the in-bus movie, Casino Royale, which I'm quite partial to. I watch Daniel Craig chase a guy along a crane, I watch a building blow up, and I drift off. Not long after, I shift and wake up. Craning my neck to see the screen, I see Judi Dench discussing in her apartment with Daniel Craig. Except, I seem to have missed the point at which the film switched over to voiceovers in Russian. The rest of the movie is in Russian. I don't know why. Probably the same geniuses who operated on those subtitles for Lost. So, the sun comes up, 7 o'clock rolls around, and just like I said it: BAM. We're in Banaue.
Banaue is well known for its rice terraces. If you go into a travel agency in Manila, all the posters depicting rice terraces will say "BANAUE." This is where everyone goes, where tourists would outnumber the Filipinos, if there weren't so darn many Filipinos. Thus, it is also well known that all of the people getting off the bus are tourists, and very likely have no idea where they are or where to go. (If you hear sirens go off in your head, and a disembodied voice yelling, "Danger, Will Robinson, Danger!!!" you are right to hear that). I'm still wiping the sleep drool off my cheek, when people have already gotten off, but a small bunch of people from Banaue have gotten on. "Are you looking for a place to stay?" "Hotel?" "Breakfast?" etc. etc. Now, we knew that this place was not where we wanted to stay. Down the road from Banaue is the quieter less-travelled town of Batad, and we knew that, in order to avoid this hubbub (sp?), we would make a beeline for Batad, and maybe walk through Banaue the last day, on our way out of the rice terrace area. So, we already had this in mind. A teenage kid comes up to us, as we gather our things, still on the bus. "Are you looking for a hotel?" We say no, we already have a place in mind. "Where in Banaue is your hotel?" We're not staying in Banaue. He seems shocked "You are not staying in Banaue?" "No," I replied, "we are staying in Batad. "
I see a beat pass very quickly in his mind. Very quickly - if you weren't watching him closely, you might not even notice his decision to go for it. He stares back at me blankly, and speaks mock-dumb, "...that exists...?" I laugh and walk off the bus. It's hard not to. God bless this kid, for really going for it. He could be a crooked politician when he grows up, if he works hard enough.
If I didn't know better, I would have likely believed him. This is why it seems challenging at times to travel in the Philippines. It seems "easy" to get taken advantage of, and that seems to scare people. But, in all reality, you could potentially go to a series of all-inclusive resorts. And if you want a little adventure, all you have to do is have your wits about you - just as if you were back home in America. If a teenager comes on your bus, as you get off of it in the middle of New York or something, and starts asking you if you need a place to stay, I assume you wouldn't smile, grab his hand, and yell "Okay, buddy, whatever you say! I trust you completely!" Same here. People like this kid have it down to an art. He knows we're not staying there. He knows Batad exists, it's the only other town there. But either we know what we're talking about or we don't. If we know what we're talking about, he doesn't have us anyways, but if we don't, then he might as well go for broke. Which he did. Anyway, that wasn't really completely the end of the troubles. Getting off the bus, you can see the people who knew absolutely what they were doing had already gone on their way, and a few unfortunate people were being hassled by people like the kid on the bus. All we had to do, was to find a way to get down the road to Batad.
Dun dun dunnnnnn....
More to come sooner than later, friends and neighbors!!!
