We made a pilgrimage to the Pearl of the Orient Sea. The home of Diane’s parents and ancestors. The land of Lumpia. Country of Caldereta. Province of Pancit. Islands of Inihaw na baboy. The archipelago of Adobo. The commonwealth of calamansi. The kingdom of Kare Kare. The state of sinigang. The house of halo halo. A bastion of bungus. The territory of tuyo. Yes, all known as ” The Philippines “
Videos of the Month
Two Tails of One City: Manila
Maybe the word corruption describes it best. Indifference may play its secondary role but, in the end, I am left confused. We arrived at the international terminal in Manila. At the kiosk labeled B1 (there are 16) in plain sight theft is accepted by those in power with the police certainly libel. Exhausted from our journey, we unsuspecting travelers dove headfirst into a beehive-like scene: a pedestrian slalom course of police whistles and whizzing cars the moment we exited the airport’s sliding doors. All this, not to mention the surprising level of heat and humidity. The confusion was total, and our vulnerability was immediately apparent to all who were preying on us.
“Where do I find a Grab? “I asked a uniformed airport employee.
“Hello sir, just cross this road and on the other side of that wall, made of plywood, you will find it.” He was honest, we just didn’t see the Grab booth.
Beach cat. (I always have spare cat treats in my ‘murse’.)
With one step into the street, I now call Mayhem Blvd, a uniformed police office glared at me, blew his whistle and made a hand signal for me to stop. He was in the middle of helping a car to park. We needed to cross Mayhem, other people were risking their own lives, why shouldn’t we. So, the moment the cop looked the other way, and with courage, fueled by necessity, we started weaving between moving cars.
We had eventual success with no injuries but were soon to make our fatal mistake. We inadvertently looked like travelers who were lost. Boom! That’s all it took. Like an African lion taking down the aged gazelle, it was over for us that fast. The meat on our bones, much like the money in our pockets became sustenance for the pride, or in this case, the thieves were fed for a week because of how much I was over charged.
“You need a taxi, I can help.” It was a statement and not presented in a question form. I resisted but it was futile against a professionally dressed woman with an official looking ID badge on a lanyard. This together with a warm, friendly smile that would gentle a werewolf, the lioness had her mouth around the gazelle’s neck, and it was over before it began. She did not operate alone. The was 4 or 5 driver-looking men gathered at the kiosk. A clipboard was used, signatures signed, a friendly banter was mixed in. A walkie-talkie was even used because this is not something that is hidden.
Let us begin with excuses. I had yet to memorize the PHP to the USD like I easily can in Thailand. So, when she showed me the laminated price sheet to local destinations, including the Belmont hotel and it said 1800 PHP (Philippine peso) I merely gave in and said “sure”. That is $30! When I asked our Grab driver the next day, how much should it have cost he said “300” or $5. Yes, six times the price. It took 6 minutes to drive to the hotel by the hoodlum taxi mafia. By comparison, the next day we got a Grab and were driven to another city which took almost an hour, and it was also $30.
Oh, and you ‘man-splainers’ out there just itchin’ to ‘share’ your opinion… Yes, I’ve turned in my ‘man-card’ and will have to say 3 Hail Marys and watch football the entire weekend; both NFL and NCAA. I freely admit falling for a scam. There.
The Other Tale:
I have officially have come to the point of I’m ok with a two-tiered pricing system. This first entered my orbit when there was discussion on fees for entering nation parks in Thailand. They post two amounts: one for locals and one for tourists. Some get their nickers in a bundle, but not me. I’ve pretty much always had been on board, but now it is solidified by visiting the Philippines. It happened at 9:42 am on Thanksgiving Day. (yes, the timing is merely a coincidence, not “a learning moment” from an after-school special). First, let’s do the math, a motorcycle taxi driver requires a minimal income to support his family, pay rent and afford simple pleasures. If you take that number and divided by how many customers he has, you come up with a price to charge all his customers, but that price is unaffordable for locals and a clear bargain for foreigners. You see where I’m going here? So, in simplest terms, charge foreigners a tad more, due to their wealth, such that it benefits those of a lessor income. I try to remember that the gains on my IRA just for today are likely higher than the monthly income of the person I’m getting a ride from.
But Bill, does that not directly contradict the airport taxi story you just told? My answer is “not at all”. One story has coercion, deceit, corruption, and opportunistic exploitation. It is a carefully orchestrated scam involving many people including the police and local officials. The other story advocates a transparent and formalized system designed of a fair outcome as the Nation Park system goes. And… when standing outside my hotel waving down a taxi, I have plenty of time to deny his price or even suggest something smaller. Though it is rare that I do. Is all this a little too nuanced? Not for me.
Citizens of the World
We’ve become untethered citizens of the world and I just noticed and acknowledged that at 6:38 am while on my morning walk today. We most likely won’t be returning to Seattle. I had to mentally say goodbye to the city I lived in most of my life, 38 years to be exact. It is not the brick and mortar, but rather the ritual and people I will miss. Other than visiting, I won’t eat at a Taco Time or shop at Costco, and most likely never see the first pitch at a Mariners game. We are a sailing ship with the ability to dock anywhere on the planet.
Why? We’ve discovered we can live and thrive anywhere in the world. If we return to the US, we can choose where we live. So, is living in the 11th most expensive city in the world worth it? Where you no longer read the articles, weekly printed in the paper about someone who was shot and killed, because it has become the norm. Where it costs $42 for us to have breakfast at a local breakfast house? Where Mr. Sun is too shy and hides behind clouds 295 days a year. Don’t get me going on ‘The Big Dark.’
Seattle, our beloved Emerald City, you are perhaps the best, but you are no longer for us. We are no longer willing to give up the gold needed to continue the past, since future adventures are on the docket.
If we had to move somewhere else, we’d experiment first, but I did get a ‘warm and fuzzy’ from Taiwan. George Town in Malaysia is still a contender, for me at least. Then there are the places we haven’t been yet. But I know us, we are like water and like to find the easiest path. So, we’ll be here until something happens, or even something I’m not thinking about. Returning to the US would be easiest. Maybe even Raleigh NC, But we might visit Europe for a few weeks next year and who knows what we will see.
For now, at least, we stay here in the Land of Smiles until a new current catches us, or until the unseen happens. We’ve gathered a community here in Thailand. We are invited to functions and see some people weekly. We are recognized in restaurants and on morning walks. Not to mention the local feline legion who salute “Cat-Man-Doo,” the giver of pats and breakfast treats.
Photos of the Month
Sarawati, Goddess of Music and Knowledge
Friends, frozen in time.