The Philippines Revisited

One Country Down...


We survived the first country of our trip and had an absolute blast. For me this was the perfect way to ease our way into the trip of a lifetime. We were able to meet a lot of amazing people and we were able to be there as one of my best friends was married to a beautiful and amazing woman. There are many great stories and memories from this part of the trip. Some that were shared for everyone to read and others that will just hide inside my head and keep me laughing and smiling every single day.

As far as the Philippines, I highly recommend that anyone goes there to see the country. I personally was not too keen on Manila itself but once outside the city everyone was amazing the places were beautiful and the memories lasting. Keep in mind that the Philippines is not like Thailand and the infrastructure for travel for tourists is not nearly as good but if you know that going in you will be fine.

I definitely will go back to the Philippines to swim with the whale sharks, do some diving, check out the Chocolate Hills of Bohol, check out the surf spot of Cloud 9 and whatever else I can find. Again I want to thank everyone that we met in the Philippines as all of you made it special and exciting and I would do it all again tomorrow.

Next up is Bangkok!

Brian
________________________________________________________

Philippines in a Nutshell

Song for this post:

In the Middle by Jimmy Eat World

            When you arrive in Southeast Asia – at least for myself – one of the first things that strikes you is the glaring distinction between the “haves” and the “have nots”.  It occurred to me at some point – possibly right at the beginning of our trip in Banaue when I was showering with freezing cold water from a bucket – that my experience with Southeast Asia prior to this has been – for the most part – first class.  When I lived in Indonesia as a teenager and would travel back to Jakarta from the states or wherever we might have had occasion to go, it usually involved a stop over in Singapore where my family and I would spend a number of hours in the first class lounge and I would get wasted on the free booze.  We’d make the short flight home back to Indo where we’d zip through the diplomat line at the customs counter and our driver would be waiting for us with our big air conditioned car.  Every night before bed I would brush my teeth with the fresh bottled water that my maid would always make sure I had and every day when the driver would bring me home from school, we’d pull into the garage where our servants congregated throughout the day to find our maid, Rani, smiling and waving at me with a pair of my underwear in her hand which she was in the process of ironing.

            I’ve only been back to Southeast Asia a handful of times since moving back to the States about 17 years ago (shit!  Am I really THAT old!?!) and those times it was only to Indonesia, the most recent trip being last year when B and I went to Bali – actually, we arrived a year ago today – and each of those times it was in the usual fashion I was accustomed to, the only difference being that since I no longer drink and last year at this time I was 2 and ½ months pregnant, I was partaking of as much free food as I could in the 1^st class lounge in lieu of liquor.  Oh how times have changed yet again!!!  Aside from our little respite at The Ascott in Manila, this trip has been way more along the lines of the have-nots than I’ve ever known before.  Between the harrowing night buses and vomit-inducing van rides, the pooping in the woods, and having to make sure that Brian remembers to get water for us to brush our teeth at night, I’ve started to see a side of Southeast Asia that I have never quite known before.

            Dear reader, I don’t mention any of this in hopes of garnering any pity from you or to parlay this into some sort of soapbox rant about the atrocities of 3^rd world living, quite the contrary.  It is rather my hope to express what a deep-seeded admiration and affection I have for this part of the world, its people, and its often-misconceived charm.  So, back to the “haves” and “have-nots”…

            Dear reader, it is my recommendation that should you ever choose to travel to this nape of the neck, you will so plan your trip as to arrive here at night.  If you’re coming from the States and traveling for at least 20 hours – if not more – it is too much to take when you first step off that plane or out of that airport and the sun and smell and chaos just bitch slap you in the face.  Should you arrive during the daylight hours I guarantee that you’ll most likely step off the plane and the first words out of your mouth or your internal monologue will be, “What the fuck have I done!?!” and your first inclination will be to run back onto the plane and curl up in the fetal position at your seat, start sucking your thumb, and pull the blanket over your head until the crappy in-flight movie (that is probably some monumental piece of shit blockbuster starring Nicholas Cage but at this point you don’t care, you’re glad for it even) starts playing and you’re on your way back to terra firma.  Save yourself the agony (of the Nicholas Cage movie more so than the long flight back) and plan your arrival for sometime after dusk.  (Round here down by the equator that’s pretty much 6p.m. across the board).

            I’m not saying any of this to freak you out and it may seem contrary to any inclination of affection that I mentioned, but really it’s to do you and Southeast Asia a big favor, lest the two of you should get off on the wrong foot.  Arriving during the day is like a slap, a tickle, a reach around and then before you know it, you’re all squealy on the Sealy before you’ve even exchanged names.  Arrive at night, have a nice long shower, get all did up, let her buy you dinner, get to know each other a bit, get in bed and talk gently and sweetly to each other, start to reveal your secrets to each other, start to build some trust, and then maybe after a little heavy petting – possibly some dry humping if you’re comfortable with that - just spoon each other and drift to sleep with satisfaction in your smile and possibility bursting your heart.  In the morning, wake up refreshed and new, fill your belly with the magnificent fruits of your new love (I meant papaya you perves!), and get to wooing your girl!!!                      

     

            Wow – that was a freakin tangent!!!  I don’t even know how to BEGIN to segue that back into what I really wanted to talk about… I guess I’ll just keep bobbing and weaving and keep you guessing…

            I guess my point is that there are two types of people who travel this way – those who look at Southeast Asia like a phone sex operator – you have no idea who or what is on the other end of the line but you hope to God it’s everything you imagine, dream of, hope for (those are usually the people who are hugely disappointed by this part of the world) and then there are those people who are like teenagers full of longing and loving angst whose hope and fantasies are still possible realities instead of improbable dreams whose potential fruition have come and gone and are now bitter, silly squanderings of the mind.   And somewhere in the middle, is me.

            There are – in this world – the “haves” and the “have-nots” and nowhere is this more palpable than in Southeast Asia.  It is not exclusive just to the Philippines, it’s everywhere, I just use this place as a jumping off point because it is where we started and where I was reminded so vividly of this distinction between what my life is now as compared to what it was a few weeks, months, years ago back home.  For – I imagine – most westerners, it would be horrifying to come here and see the conditions in which most of the people live here.  If we saw anything akin to what appears to be the most abject poverty as the majority of people live in here in the States or whatever western country we might hail from, there would be riots.  There would be protesters and angry letters to editors and congressman and bumper stickers and Bono and Jay-Z would throw a benefit concert for it in a heartbeat.  At first glance, we would be irate and unsettled and disgusted as our senses are assaulted by the sights and smells and sounds that are so uniquely Southeast Asia.

            But look closer dear reader.  This is not fantastical, lustful phone sex, nor is it impulsive, consuming love at first sight.  This is a blind date with a person you’d never in a million years think you would have anything to do with but it was just easier to go on the date and shut your friend up than keep politely insisting you’re not interested.  Be patient, let these places, tucked so far away in the world from us unfold and reveal their true beauty.

            When I was an angry, ungrateful teenager living in Indonesia who knew nothing about myself or life or where it might take me and there was nothing I loved more than indulging in my own melancholy, I remember sitting in my big, air conditioned car, being chauffeured by my driver to my fancy private school or the American Club, or The Hilton Pool, or some such place, I remember sitting at a stoplight.  I remember soak and sulking in my own teenage misery.  I remember being by a kampung (the clusters of shabby shacks that the middle class Indonesians lived in) which was located by one of the many canals that ran throughout the city.  At one point there were women washing clothes in the canal, a few yards down kids were playing it and a few yards beyond that, someone was pissing in it.  At the kampung there was a group of people – mothers, fathers, kids, grandparents, neighbors – all congregated outside someone’s shack, all talking, all laughing, all smiling the biggest, most genuine smiles.  I sat there in my big car and watched them and thought, “They look like what I’m supposed to feel like.”  My insides matched their surroundings and vice versa.  That’s what being in the Philippines was like.

            I mean that it was like that in the sense that I was reminded so strongly of that feeling, that what is the norm for them would seem dismal and unbearable to us.  But being a more mature woman I was able to see a step beyond what I recognized as a teenager and couldn’t make sense of really so it just made me more frustrated and turned off by the world around me.  What I saw was this, that these people who live in conditions and circumstances that we westerners would and do balk at and admonish, have their basic needs met.  They have clothes on their back, a roof over their head, and food in their stomachs.  Sometimes it’s a little less than that and rarely is it much more, but when all is said and done, their basic needs are met and for the rest, they make do.  No frills, not many luxuries, but they are grateful for what they have and the one thing that there seems to have always been present in abundance throughout our travels in the Philippines was pure, genuine, heartfelt joy.  They’re just fucking happy!

            So it was fitting that all of this came right up in my face, considering my mental state at the beginning of our trip.  The entire time we were in the Philippines I was questioning my happiness and what that meant and wondering what the hell we’re doing and what do I want and what do I need to fulfill that want.  The entire time I’ve been hemming and hawing over what I have and what I don’t have when all around me, right in front of my face were all these people…aaaaahhhhh fuck!  I totally lost my train of thought – oh well.

            Anyhoo – on the exciting van ride from El Nido to Puerta Princessa we started talking to the two Filipina girls that we were sharing a shoe box’s worth of space with in the trunk of the van.  One (Rawna) was a news reporter for a Filipino TV station and the other (Kath) was attending university in Australia and was just back for a visit.  We started talking about all sorts of things including our travels and Kath told us how all of her Australian mates were always asking her about the Philippines and that she really enjoyed being able to tell them about her home.  I asked her what one thing she’d like people to know about her country.  She just said that she’d like people to know that Filipinos are very happy people.  And I told her that I’d noticed that pretty much everywhere I went there was usually a Filipino walking down the road or working in a market or standing at a security check point in their guard uniform, observing people as they passed through the metal detectors and they’d be singing.  Just out of the blue, no music around anywhere and they’d be smiling and singing.  I asked the girls why Filipinos were always singing and they just smiled and laughed and said they thought it was just because they’re happy people and that back in the day – and still in some of the tinier villages – that there wasn’t a whole lot of forms of entertainment so, they sang.

            

          This part of our conversation – I would like to emphasize – preceded a discussion we’d had about the recent massacre in the southern part of the country right around Christmas.  It happened to be where the girls had grown up and Kath’s cousin was an innocent victim killed on his way to work.  Brian and I had also been kind of griping that we thought it completely unfair that Americans are very rarely afforded the opportunity to work in other countries in any sort of middle of the road capacity – you pretty much either have to be sponsored by a huge corporation, start your own business, be a teacher, or do some sort of volunteer work.  (I know, self-entitled, whiny Americans.)  Kath – in a very sweet and optimistic, look on the bright side kind of way quickly pointed out that though that may be the case, at least as Americans, we are free to go pretty much anywhere in the world we want without having to jump through lots of hoops like people of many other nationalities in the world.  I wanted to illustrate this point for you because it was all spoken so casually and lightheartedly and the girls then continued – without a single shred of malice – to talk about what happy people they and their fellow countrymen and women are.  That despite political massacres occurring in their backyard and not being easily accepted in many parts of the world, life is good and there’s always a silver lining.  Their basic needs are met, so why despair?

          

         Point is, dear reader, that – all things considered – between my experience in Indonesia and our stay in the Philippines, my ideas of “haves” and “have-nots” is being turned on it’s ass.  Up is down, black is white, have is have-not – which is really what the point of this trip has been for Brian and I anyway.  But it’s a long, painful road from here to there.  They say when one door closes, another one opens but the hallway is a bitch.  If I can explain at all what I’ve been going trough thus far on the trip, it’s that I’m in the hallway.  I don’t know if it’s because of what I’ve been through the past year or if this is indeed the road I’ve always been heading down but I’ve begun to question why it is exactly I want the things that I want.  Is it because I truly want them, or is it because I’ve been taught to want them?  And how do you know which is true?  And how do you let go of the beliefs that have been so strongly bred in you, defined you, been a part of you, when they no longer serve you and start to go against what is in you at the core?

            

           The Philippines has shown me, has reminded me that we are taught to want and with want, with desire, comes expectation and inevitable, with expectation comes disappointment and almost always ensures failure.  These people want nothing; expect nothing, and for that, they seem to have everything – everything that matters anyway.  Southeast Asia is very much like falling love – you’re either running from it or running to it.  You’re either trying to hide or be found.  You’re either trying to escape the most loathsome parts of yourself or bring forth the very best in you.  You are either consumed by ego or revel in abundant selflessness.  You are either holding on for dear life or letting go with joyful surrender.  Somewhere in the middle of all that, standing in the hallway, being pulled by each side, I’m waiting…

xoxoM

Song for going to Bagkok:

Jump Rope by Blue October