Wanderlust Heaven!

Last couple days in Manila were anti-climactic. Recuperated from the surprisingly debilitating round of golf – my hands were raw and blistered for days afterward. Had a couple massages to ease the back and brain…took care of onward travels arrangements, including figuring out how to get cash to a hotel owner named Horst in Boracay – solution: go to a branch of his bank and deposit cash into his account. Took a couple hours to take care of that, but hey – I do have time these days…

Heard from my friend Bob, my Burma travel pal who resides in Bangkok. He left Thailand late last year to go to Vietnam for a while, but then figured out how to get around new Thai visa obstacles and is now back in Bangkok for the time being. He went to his friend Jan’s wedding to a Thai woman, up in the rural provinces of Isan. Sent me the pics – looks like it was a real down-home Thai event.

Had dinner with my ex-colleague David, his wife Cai, and their friend Bettina – who’s a great person to talk with, she’s a serious diver and told me all about the best spots in the RP. She also works for a pharma company and had some helpful insights for me there. Enjoyed catching up with David & Cai, they’re doing well and are the proud parents of a baby girl.

Has been getting warmer in Manila – summer’s coming on. I dislike being in the city during summer – you need to dress reasonably well and also shave, two things I don’t do well these days. Still, for the 6 weeks I was in Manila, I didn’t even get through a tiny bottle of shaving cream. But was looking forward to taking off for the beaches…where shaving is all but unknown and dressing up means wearing a shirt with some sort of collar. I can do that. The Japanese really know how to do summer, regardless of their environs. Sliding ricepaper doors to absorb the heat and let the breeze in…tatami mats to let the room breathe…kimono and yukata, daytime or night, to keep the bod cool. It’s fantastic to walk around in Japan during a summer night and see a few people (esp. young ladies) in kimono/yukata…you feel that the old days haven’t truly gone for good. Other cultures don’t seem to adapt that well, or should I say so stylishly, to the onset of summer. You can walk around Shanghai in the heat – and from what I’ve seen, the principal form of adaption for males is to go shirtless. Lovely. Too bad women don’t go that route.

Final night in Manila was fairly random. Meant to have dinner with a friend at Café Havana in Remedios Circle. While walking there, noticed that my fave bar Ciboney was open – on a Sunday evening. Unusual. Made it to Café Havana – closed for the night. Huh. Sent a text to my friend Maya and told her to meet me instead at Ciboney. No prob. Had a drink there, and that launched a long evening. Next: huge Japanese meal of shabu-shabu and the usual starters/accompaniments. Then: Nirvana Disco for some live music and dancing. Finally: Music21 for karaoke and further drinking. Ugh…had to get up at 7 the next morning to travel to Puerto Galera, barely made it. Head was pounding till lunchtime.

There are two easy ways to get from Manila to Puerto Galera. Each is a bus-boat combination, taking approx. 4 hours. Characteristically, they are offered by two hotels that are one block apart in Malate. Chose one randomly and got the tix. It’s amazingly easy to get to PG – can’t believe I never made it there before. The road to the port of Batangas – where you catch the boat – is laughingly called the South Luzon Superhighway – it’s hardly that – but still, it seemed the road trip was over before it started. Not something you can say about many journeys hereabouts.

The boat from Batangas to Puerto Galera takes an hour. Very relaxed. Beers were being sold (it was 11 a.m.) and consumed with alacrity. Lots of old geezers and young Filipinas heading down together – seems that’s a regular thing to do. Remind me to try that when I’m 60 or so. The entry into the harbor of Sabang town (Puerto Galera is an actual town, a bit around the cove, but ‘Puerto Galera’ applies to a long stretch of beach and Sabang and other places have stolen PG town’s thunder over the years) is an eyeful – one of the more captivating harbors I’ve ever seen, low-key, but outstanding – see for yourself:

Perhaps not as stunning as some of the Greek island harbor towns, but quite nice for a tropical setting. Took a small pumpboat over to my hotel, the Deep Blue Sea Inn in Small Laguna Beach. Could’ve walked, the towns are very close together and you can get nearly anywhere in 10 minutes. Very cool. Checked into my room – which has a stunning view, when I wake up and walk outside it feels like I’ve stepped into the heavenly third of a Bosch triptych – here’s what I mean:

Puerto Galera is one of the big diving areas in Asia-Pacific. If you don’t like to dive, you don’t belong here. The beaches are modest – Big Laguna Beach used to have a fine beach, supposedly, but a typhoon last year washed away half of it. The beaches are basically a place to moor boats and walk from place to place (i.e., bar to bar). And of course, the hotels/resorts all built as close to the surf as possible, so you can hardly stretch out. But for diving, dining, drinking, etc. this is a classic place. And I’m kicking myself for not coming before…my only issue thus far is that the place is by no means a secret – every diver in Asia knows it well. Anyway…

My friend Rita in Manila told me to try Asia Divers, she’s been diving with them for years and came to PG just the other week. Sounded like a solid outfit, and given that there are dozens of operators here, I needed a tip. Booked a series of 10 dives with Asia Divers, and have been working through those the past 3+ days. As I sit here banging away on the laptop, I’m between my 3rd and 4th dive of the day. In the past that would have worried me – precisely how much nitrogen is working its way through my tissues? – but now, no problem. That’s because I have a new dive watch, a Suunto Mosquito, which I mentioned a few entries back. The thing is brilliant – tracks all the key parameters, and tells me when I need to ascend to avoid decompression sickness risk – a rather critical threshold to avoid tripping. It’s given me a new lease on diving and a better understanding of how the biology works too.

Have seen some random sights during my 9 dives thus far, including:

-The largest turtle – maritime or terrestrial – I’ve ever seen. The monster was considerably larger than my nephew, swimming about freely, consuming a sea cucumber, and giving a ride to two remora on its back.

-Something tissue-like, ripping in the current – bright red, much like a tablecloth. I really must get up to speed on my marine biology…

-A massive sea snake – looked like an industrial hose, with a strange mottled skin pattern. -On a night dive, when the mix of creatures can be very different, a small octopus. Hadn’t come across one of those before. That night, had a nice plate of grilled calamares…

-Lots of little shrimps and seahorses.

We also did a few wreck dives. The wrecks were deliberately sunk for diving, so no cool WW2 Japanese wrecks, but still good fun. Swam through a couple, all the while recalling the book Shadowdivers, in which a father/son team winds up perishing from decompression sickness after the son gets entangled inside a Nazi U-boat that their friends had discovered some time before. Get the book – fascinating stuff, and I don’t say that merely because old friend Ray’s wife is the editor at Random House. Made me extremely cognizant as I swam through not to get tangled up in wiring, etc.

Sabang has many good restaurants, the semblance of a real small town (although anyone can see it’s all there because of the diving), and a rocking nightlife. I don’t quite know how alcohol affects the physiology as it relates to diving – but no one here seems to care, the bars are packed until early morning, then everyone gets a bit of sleep before plunging to the depths. Incredible. I’ve been a good boy – having dinner with people I meet here, not staying out too late. Asia Divers had a nice dinner the other night – about 40 people there, instructors, students, and divers like me. Met a random gang of English divers – 7-8 of them – who came over with their London dive club. Sat next to them during dinner, plowed through a couple bottles of Chilean red, and then bounced around a few bars till 2 a.m. or so. I recall trying my gypsy dancing moves with the one Spaniard in the gang – everyone was crowded round and she gave me passing marks. Mostly for sympathy, I suspect.

One of the British divers is a gay fellow who apparently made millions in real estate in the UK, and now seems to split his time across 3-4 countries, largely to avoid paying taxes. Couldn’t remember if he’s now in Switzerland or Italy – but anyway, next week he’ll move on. He’s a switched-on fellow – has a point of view on nearly everything, including the Israeli-Palestinian struggle. He was going on about how no one in the press or politics ever talks about the underlying demographic issue at play, namely how the ‘white European Jews’ are taking land from the ‘brown Asian Arabs.’ Supposedly our two people sprang from the same root, i.e. Big Daddy Abe, but years of wandering through the Russian/Euro backwaters led to a fair bit of gene extension and whitening of the epidermis. And so, in this fellow’s mind, the Arabs are most pissed-off about having their land stolen by white people – and that there was little or no tension before 1947 or so. I have my issues with this one – first, there were incidents and massacres well before WW2 and Israel’s founding. Our two people have a long and sad history together. Second, Israel has been heavy-handed in many ways, for many reasons, and if I were on the other side I think that would be top of mind. But it’s good to hear a fresh perspective and I think he’s not entirely off-base here…

Why are gay males generally so switched-on? When I was in Goa, a gay Brit named Matt was down the hall, and he had something to say about everything. He was a photographer and seemed to have attended every major event in London in 2006. Very interesting conversation partner - although my ear started turning to cauliflower after a few hours of banter (mostly coming from him).  Perhaps it’s simply the ‘minority affliction’ - when you’re in the minority (religion, race, sexual orientation) you often feel the need to try harder.  My father certainly beat that into our heads.  But another lesson comes to mind, particularly given our Jewish creed - and that’s to mind your tongue and don’t stand out too much.  Not an uplifting message, for sure - but with a bit of subtlety you can make it all work just fine.

I mentioned that I went for a night dive – that was last evening. I was joined by another member of the UK contingent, a cool female painter from London. She did 4 dives/day almost every day, and I assigned her the sobriquet ‘Nitrogen Laura,’ as her body tissues were probably bubbling forth with N2 by the end of her time in PG.  Very good diver - super-prepared and organized. The mark of the city is upon her - whereas I probably appear to have just emerged from a Moroccan hash den and thrown on my BCD (buoyance control device) and tank. 

This was just my second night dive, and it was good fun.  Saw a funny little octopus scurrying around the bottom.  And Laura pointed out some tiny fluorescent creatures that you can see if you wave your arms around.  Again, must bone up on my marine biology…

What else? Had lunch at Capt’n’ Gregg’s today. Had a San Miguel Light in advance of dive #2 for the day. The beer came in a ‘huggie’ or whatever the hell they’re called – they’re a ‘beer glove’ that keeps ‘em cold. It felt lumpy and perhaps damaged – until I lifted my eyes from my book and noticed that the lumps were in fact breasts. Nice. The book I’m now reading is The Scar by China Mieville. Discerning Slog readers will recall that I completed Mieville’s previous book (and first in the trilogy) Perdido Street Station en route to Manila. Finally got round to book #2 – before doing so I wanted to plow through some fatter/heavier books I had with me, to avoid lugging them around the RP. Those books were: The Japan Journals by Donald Richie; Cloud Atlas by David Mitchell; The 48 Rules of Power by Robert Greene; and I Am Legend by Richard Matheson. All quite good, all worth reading. Am still early days on The Scar, but it’s already shaping up nicely and I continue to be impressed by Mieville’s creativity and energetic writing.

Have woken up with some bad mosquito bites past few days. Finally went hunting yesterday – the good thing was that the mossies had nailed me and were fat and slow. Smacked the first one against the wall – you should have seen the blood (presumably mine) that stained the wall. Got two more that night, and one more today. All heavy and slow. Given what it seems they’ve sucked out of me, I might need a blood transfusion soon. But am not sure what blood type I have – need to find that out and put it on my ‘SOS Card’ in my wallet. Do you know your blood type? Probably not, huh? Well, the Japanese and other Asians are crazy about this stuff and they have an entire horoscope-type system based on it. I know, very odd.

The cook here at the hotel has promised us some ceviche-style local raw fish for dinner tonight. I’m generally not that keen on raw fish in the RP…but might humor him and try it out. A German regular here, Michael, has had it several times and swears by it. I guess I’ll trust this German…oh my!

Over and out – behave yourselves, dear readers. Enticement to come out and join me - a sunset shot from my hotel – taken 10 minutes ago.

‘When the great lord passes, the wise peasant bows deeply and silently farts.’

-Ethiopian proverb

Just got out of an hourlong session with the travel agent. Had to extend my visa here – yet another extortionary lever designed to grease bureaucratic pockets – and also hoped to ease the torture of making bookings during Holy Week (week preceding Easter Sunday). The visa bit went fine, although not cheaply; the bookings were another story. I already knew where I wanted to go and stay, but wanted some help with transport and dealing with hotels, many of which were sure to be tight for the holiday. The agent tried her best – but she didn’t know the places I wanted, and when she came up with the latest package deals, they didn’t sound that economical compared with the prices I had in my guidebook. I hate packages anyway – they force you to eat all your meals at the hotel, and tend to be padded with all sorts of crap you don’t need. They’re good for families, not for indie travelers like me. So I just had her take care of a flight and then I got on the phone and spent an hour hammering everything out. Saved myself a fair amount and learned a lesson – travel agents are less and less necessary and helpful these days.  They sell their products - not solutions, hence the slogging of crap like package ’deals.’ You might want to use one to book a flight if you don’t want to spend time comparing fares on the Internet – otherwise doing everything yourself is the way to go. I think I already knew that, but let the Easter holiday intimidate me into thinking that I’d need an insider’s help in sorting things out. As Borat would say, ‘Not!’

Had an interesting meeting last Thursday with a former Finance Secretary here. I wanted to get his perspective on the pharmaceutical business my friend and I are considering starting here. This fellow is uniquely well-connected and informed – and quite a nice guy too. Has an MBA from Kellogg, and has had a fantastic series of positions in business and government in the RP. He was positive about our idea – in fact, he mentioned that because of the high prices of medicines here in the RP, he buys his medicine from Walgreen’s in the U.S. Which is just fucking unbelievable. I mean, we Americans complain about our drug prices (although, to be accurate, our generics prices aren’t bad – it’s the patented/branded stuff that’s outrageous), and to have a Filipino (albeit a wealthy one) sourcing his drugs from the U.S. says a lot. And is depressing. So our idea seems to have promise…and I plan to pursue it further with his help and contacts – in fact, he said he’d introduce me to Senator Roxas, an up-and-comer whose grandfather was a former president, and who is spearheading the charge to lower pharma prices. At some point I’ll get this going, and perhaps forge ahead with the actual startup of the biz. But it will be a hell of a lot of work and I’m not yet sure I’m ready to dive in with both feet. Stay tuned.

He also owns a BPO (business process outsourcing company), that deals with U.S. medical records and credit card bill processing. He pretty much offered me a senior management job on the spot – which was flattering, but the time just isn’t right. Still, I plan to stay in touch with this fellow, he’s the sort of person I need to know here.

The meeting was in the exclusive Tower Club in Makati City – haven’t set foot in a place like that in some time, and wasn’t too sure my basic white shirt, black khakis, and brown docksiders would cut the mustard. But people are casual here and I fit in just fine. Lots of major players floating around in the club – I think I recognized the founder of Jollibee’s fast food chain sitting in a meeting room. While I’m not ready to become Joe Business just yet, I wouldn’t mind spending a day or so hanging out with the muckety-mucks at the Tower Club…

Left the meeting, and walked over to the taxi stand. Across the street was Ayala Tower One, home of Monitor Group and a trillion other small businesses. Thought about heading up to peek in and say hi. But consultants generally don’t like surprises – they tend to muck up the tight schedule and require the display of emotions – so I deferred and caught a cab back to Malate.

That night, had dinner with a friend of a friend, he’s an engineer on an oil rig that goes around Asia every few months. Lito, the engineer, is an old friend of my fraternity brother Todd, and they used to work together in Connecticut. I had dinner with Lito and his brother-in-law, who was very business-savvy and let me in on some of the things the government’s up to. I knew about a few things already…like the potential passage of House/Senate bills designed to allow parallel importation of patented pharma products. That would significantly lower the price of these types of products – but would probably not much affect the price of generics. Still, it would help people afford the newer meds and people here need all the help they can get.

The brother-in-law told me he’s diabetic (as is the former Finance Secretary – it’s a serious epidemic here, given the diet, genes, and lack of exercise), hence he’s fairly clued-in to the whole pharmaceutical debate. Still, we sucked back quite a few beers together. I would hope that he’s restrained most nights of the week…I don’t think he’d last too long eating lechon (fried pork) and drinking San Miguels.

Heard a funny story about standing up for your rights. Seems that Nikita Khrushchev was giving a speech in Moscow in the 50s or 60s, and chastised the audience for being meek and not speaking their minds – thus not contributing to the betterment of government/society. Someone in the audience yelled out ‘Where were you when Stalin was purging thousands?’ or something along those lines. Khrushchev thought for a moment, then stared at the crowd and said ‘Who said that?’ And no one fessed up. Talking about proving a point succinctly…

Had dinner with an old friend from Monitor on Tuesday night. Met at the Shangri-La Makati City, a fine place where I used to stay back in the day. Went to noisy Conway’s Bar, found a semi-quiet corner, and caught up. Hadn’t seen each other in more than a year. I won’t open the kimono on certain parts of our conversation, but I will say that he and I have been excoriating the Bush Administration since Day One and it’s nice to sit back with a beer and go over it all again. Depressing, perhaps, but it gets things off your chest. Part of our discussion centered on the inherent disability/distaste of Republicans for any meaningful debate, or criticism of their candidates. If someone criticizes Bush, they’re automatically unpatriotic and disrespectful of ‘our boys over there.’ Of course, the Democrats seem to be the party that’s fighting for better body armor and protection for the troops – the Republicans can’t be bothered with those mundane matters. I recall reading a piece in the foreigner magazine Metropolis in Tokyo back in 2004, before the US Presidential election. The heads of the Democratic Party Abroad-Japan and the GOP equivalent each wrote a brief piece lauding their respective candidate. The DPAJ guy – an Italian-American from the Northeast, I think – was pretty balanced on Kerry. Certainly not a puff piece. The RPAJ writer – a blond lady from the South – had the most execreable garbage in her piece, claiming that Bush had saved us from the terrorists and had the courage of his faith or some drivel like that. The contrast was stark. But predictable. And Republicans can be mean fuckers, too – remember Rush Limbaugh mocking Michael J. Fox’s TV ad, accusing him of faking his Parkinson’s tremors for political effect? That’s cold…and Rush is in no position to make fun of anyone, given his various drug addictions…

My Monitor buddy told me about an article in The Atlantic Monthly in which IQs of past Presidents were compared. Not sure where they got the data – but you can probably guess the highlights. Smartest recent Pres? Clinton, easily. Dumbest? Bush II, by a mile. How depressing…

We also traded ideas on stocks and our finances. He recalled a pointer that my father once gave me, and that I mentioned once to him – ‘the best way to make money is in your sleep’ – taken from the world of real estate. And while that pointer is by no means airtight, I’ve always remembered it and taken it to heart. ‘Sweat equity’ is a term that strikes fear in my heart. My father is good for a few zingers like this one – another, mentioned previously in this Slog, is that ‘people always have money for what they really want.’ And when I left Boston last year, he told me that I shouldn’t deny myself the little things and live too austerely – that chances like this aren’t always available. That was excellent advice, and I don’t shy away from pampering myself from time to time.

I’ve been keeping up with the latest round of news from Washington on the Scooter Libby trial. What a mess. My DC-based friends are vastly more informed, and have more sophisticated opinions, though, and allow me to share those of one with you here – check out this writing:

‘The freak show here is veering to the macabre. Like C-Span airing political versions of Hieronymus Bosch dreams 24/7. It’s either time to load the Potomac Fever Kool-Aid into the dialysis machine - and plug in — or heavy up with ammo and start a new Kraal in Canada.’

Sounds like bit like things here in Manila.

Visited Plaza Miranda last Sunday. Decades ago, Plaza Miranda was the Trafalgar Square / Speaker’s Corner of Manila – vicious political debates were the order of the day. Former President Magsaysay always asked ‘how will it play in Plaza Miranda?’ when he was considering legislation. That all changed in 1971, when an explosion tore the place apart. President Marcos then enacted martial law…leading the thinking man to believe that Marcos had done the explosion himself. Which was probably the case. And we all know how things went after that. Miranda sat in ruins for many years, but has been spiffied up recently and is chock-a-block with little markets. And the place is in the shadow of the very nice Quiapo Church - like many places, bombed to oblivion then rebuilt. Here it is:

Plaza Miranda’s not the most scenic of places, but it’s worth a stroll. Perhaps the best thing there is a building bearing the name of the former Archibishop of Manila, Cardinal Jaime Sin. Cardinal Sin. I love it.

After Miranda, took a cab over to the Presidential Malacanang Palace, which sits on a quiet side street near the Pasig River. You can walk down the street and peer through the gates – but no photos allowed. So you’ll have to find a pic online, shouldn’t be hard. You used to be able to take tours, but given the two ‘People Power’ incidents – each of which resulted in the overthrow of the President – officials have gotten understandably nervous and tightened up the security. There is a nice little park across the street commemorating the Battle of Manila in WW2, here’s the statue and plaque - quite dramatic:

Took a cab that night over to Makati City for dinner with a friend. My cabbie was a wizened fellow who told me he used to work in the mines in Angola, during the long civil war there. I told him I once met rebel leader Jonas Savimbi at the Heritage Foundation in Washington. Not that I was proud to say I’ve set foot in that right-wing nuthouse, but hey, Savimbi was ‘our man in Angola’ back then and he was fighting the goddamn Commies – or that was the line, anyway. Angola’s yet another depressing example of a country that should be rich – the oil and mineral deposits are astounding – but 5 people skim all the money.

Walked into a 7-11 to get a candy bar – once a month I have a craving for chocolate. Picked a Hershey’s with Almonds – then noticed that, in the heat, it was drooping and soft. All of them were. And I can’t imagine that’s an unusual outcome. Who’s minding that store?

On my way home that night, walked down a street near my hotel and heard some yapping. Turned out to be a small colony of dogs…two of which were little puppies scrambling on top of each other in an attempt to climb up onto the sidewalk. Not sure what they wanted to do…but it was both cute, and heartbreaking, to see these two tiny furry balls of energy jockeying for position on the ladder of life. Probably vying for a tiny morsel of food…just scrambling to survive on the mean streets of Manila. Good luck, little guys.

Played golf yesterday with my friend’s father-in-law. Did I mention that I’m reasonably well-connected here? Pretty funny. Anyway, we played 18 holes at his club, the Wack-Wack Club (greatest golf club name yet) in Mandaluyong City. I started horrendously…hadn’t played in 9 months. My transgressions were various – complete swing & whiff, massive divots, hooks & slices, 20-foot drives, you name it. Started to settle down a bit after 5 holes, but had developed a brutal blister on my right hand and every swing was painful. We took a break after 9, had a San Miguel beer, applied a band-aid, and went back out. Played far better after that. Started to crank the ball off the tee – using my 3-wood, my go-to club – and my putting calmed down. Still sucked with the middle game, i.e. the wedges, but that’s true to form. Even birdied a hole – really surprised Mr. De La Cruz, who plays twice a week. I managed to get through 18 holes and enjoy myself. I always have a bit of trepidation at the start of a game – playing 18 holes takes 4-5 hours, a length of time I’m generally loathe to commit to. And my crappy golf skills don’t exactly help. But things almost always get better after a few holes and I can put together a series of decent swings. And I have to admit that it’s a nice way to break up the week, you can’t do much on the course besides talk and play. The mobile can intrude, but at some point you’ve gotta put it down and swing your clubs. I really should try to play more often, I’d probably develop my game pretty well…and I’ve gotta say that it’s nice to have a caddy and the course pretty much to yourself…

A few shots from the day on the links:

But it’s getting time to depart Manila for other shores. I’m starting to go native here and I need to shake free. Am heading on Monday to Puerto Galera, a diving hotspot which I’ve never visited. Supposed to be some fantastic wall dives, caves, and fishies thereabouts. After that, a week in Boracay – another place I’ve never been. Easter Week in Boracay – that sounds about right. And then on to the Cebu region, where the possibilities are endless. Should make all the travel agent bickering well worth it.

Let me end with a few thoughts on the Holocaust musings from last entry. Reader Johann had the following reaction:

‘Your views on the Holocaust and revenge lead me to pose the following questions - is there a statute of limitations on using history as justification for current violence (Serbs vs. Bosnians)? Should there be a number below which future revenge is unacceptable (Jews in Holocaust vs. Arabs in Gaza / West Bank)? And which side gets to take revenge on whom (Muslims vs. Hindus). To quote M.K. Gandhi, an eye for an eye only makes the world blind - that’s the saintly view. I prefer to take the following tack - living well is the best revenge.’

I like the bit on living well – that hits home for me. As for a statute of limitations…in my opinion the only factor there is the memories of people involved, or indirectly affected. A Japanese bartender once asked me when the Chinese and Koreans would stop bringing up Japan’s WW2 behavior. My response was: ‘when all the participants are dead.’ But even that’s not right. We Jews still talk about escaping our Egyptian oppressors from 2000+ years ago. It would be nice – and incredibly naïve – to put the past behind and start afresh…something that many of us (including myself, obviously, as I was the one kicking off this debate) are incapable of doing.

I do think that the world is making progress, in fits and starts, with racial and ethnic equality. But time does funny things to us…I once read a recap of a book called After Dachau, the premise of which was that, 5000 years after WW2, the world has become a completely Aryan place and WW2 is naturally far in the rearview mirror. Some tales survive from those ancient days – one is that the Germans defeated their old enemies the Jews at Dachau in A.D. 1945. Later on, Germany developed the A-bomb and forced the U.S. to sue for peace. And now, 3000 years later, people remember Dachau as a real battle where the German Army defeated the Jewish Army once and for all. Not as a death-camp where Jews were gassed by Nazis. Chilling stuff. Haven’t read the book, but it’s on my list and you might want to pick it up. Makes me wonder what bullshit we now believe from 5000 years ago. History is rarely objective. Egyptian oppressors…hmmm….

See you next week.

I promise this is a short one. The entry, that is. Had an annoying morning…went to the Internet café to write this up, and at 8:30 a.m. it was still shuttered. Turns out the dim-witted clerk had locked the keys inside. She and another clerk were hanging around outside till the replacement key arrived. Clerk #2 was new…hadn’t seen her before. She was chatty, I was not – possibly because she was an obvious transvestite (women’s clothing/high heels, slight moustache, and prominent Adam’s Apple) and I noticed random people staring at us as we (she) talked. I wasn’t really in the mood to be considered a Western pervert at 8:30 in the morning, so I bailed. Went to get some coffee, came back 40 mins later and the store was still shut. Last week the store was essentially down for 3 days because they had no Web connection. Remind me not to get into the Internet café business in the Philippines…

Stopped into 7-11 to get a paper. Freezeframe by J. Geils was playing. I love it. The lead singer, Peter Wolf, used to jam a bit with my old university friend/fraternity brother Paul. I believe I met Peter – one of the most entertaining singers in the biz – once in a drunken stupor (me, not him). But I can’t prove it and I doubt Paul can either…

Went over to Makati City last weekend to buy a dive watch. I’ve been meaning to get one of these for ages, they’re pretty useful and when you rent equipment at scuba outfitters you rarely get the use of a dive watch. Not only are they useful for things like cautioning you when you’re ascending too quickly, they’re also cool-looking and make you feel like a serious diver. I refuse to go out and buy any other equipment – who wants to lug that stuff around? I’m the world’s most enthusiastic renter, methinks.

Wasn’t sure what the local scuba shops would charge for a good watch. I wanted the Suunto Mosquito, my step-brother Aaron has one and recommended it. Estimated it would go for approx. US$400. Checked online – MSRP was US$399, but MSRP doesn’t really take into account retail realities – such as transport costs, tariffs, etc. So was prepared to spring for a bit more. This was my birthday present from my dad and step-mom. Was first quoted 33,270 Pesos list price by the first shop I visited – which is approx. US$685. Give me a break. Of course, as soon as you demonstrate the ability to speak, they offer you a 20% discount – taking the price down to US$548. Laughed and said I’d think about it. Went to second shop – same numbers, precisely. Laughed and said I’d think about it. Walked over to an Internet café, re-checked prices, and made up my mind not to accept anything over US$450. My online research indicated I could probably order the Mosquito online for about US$400…but I dislike ordering electronics online, it’s a pain to get servicing and you never know what’ll happen in transit. Went back to the first store, told them that store #2 had exactly the same price (I didn’t lie and say it was lower – I’m certain they collaborate, just like the airlines), and that I could order the watch online for US$400. They grimaced, talked amongst themselves, and offered US$500. I said goodbye, was walking out, and they came back with a ‘final offer’ of US$445 – which was acceptable so made the buy.

In retrospect, I should probably have bought the watch in the States. It’s always tempting to want to buy in developing countries…but not always the way to go. Most things are much cheaper here – but only things that involve 1) local labor, which is dirt cheap, and 2) local materials, a la agricultural products, beer and clothing – which are created largely with local labor. Imported goods can be more expensive than abroad, due to shipping costs and tariffs. My Suunto is Finnish and doesn’t involve an iota of Filipino input – hence the premium I paid. Anyway, I was close to my estimate. My father, WW2-era baby that he is, counseled me to stay within a US$350 budget. My stepmother pooh-poohed that and told me to spend whatever I wanted – it was for my 40th birthday. In the end I came in pretty close and got what I wanted. Now I just have to figure out how to use the damned thing…then to go use it. Am expecting to depart Manila around the 22nd and head down to the scuba center of Puerto Galera – haven’t been there and apparently the diving is superb. Should be good fun…

Have been eating at Casa Armas a couple times a week. Brilliant Spanish fare – I can feel my body and soul expanding as I inhale the rioja, bread, jamon, gambas, and queso. Very earthy stuff, fairly basic preparation, but it does me right. I’ve even gotten used to the corny musicians who play there – they were playing The Girl from Ipanema last time I was there.

Have noticed a white woman and her baby a few times lately. The woman stands outside bars and restaurants and begs, with her baby in her arms. Quite an odd sight – I wonder what her story is. Can’t be a pretty one, that’s for sure. Reminds me of an account in the book Goa Freaks, by Cleo Odzer – who spent several years in Goa in the ‘70s. Odzer wrote that it was time to leave Goa when things got too dark and depressing – as partly evidenced by Westerners cleaning toilets and doing other work previously the domain of locals. Odzer couldn’t believe she was seeing Europeans sweeping floors for money in India, that was quite a come-down from the days of wine and roses (and chillums). For me, seeing the white woman and her baby begging on the streets of Manila was depressing too – of course seeing beggars of any color/gender/age is a bummer, but somehow this was different.

Got my mail sent from Boston. Most of it was financial statements related to my opening a Roth IRA. I finally got around to moving my 401(k) from my previous employer. When you change/open accounts the amount of paperwork is ridiculous – you get dozens of fund prospectuses, account statements, etc. I spent a few hours opening mail, then ripping it into tiny pieces and flushing them down the toilet. Did I mention I’m paranoid about identity theft? I know a couple people who’ve had to deal with this and it doesn’t sound fun, cheap or straightforward. So I am very careful with my mail, particularly in places where reading my statements might make mouths water…

Finally finished watching my 5-season DVD set of the TV series 24. I watched 2-3 episodes per day over the last month and got through all 5 seasons of the show. Quite entertaining. Of course, my productivity suffered immensely…but who really cares? This is the only TV show I watch, so I don’t feel that guilty, or enslaved by the boob tube. The shows has its negatives – much of the acting is wooden, the technology isn’t credible, and you do feel like you’re treading the same ground over and over (another Muslim terrorist has a nuclear weapon?!). But the plot is good and the political twists and turns are creative – after watching this show you simply don’t trust anyone, or at least won’t count on your friends in a pinch. Which might be a very good lesson to learn…I forget who said that you should keep your enemies close and your friends closer, but they had a point.

Have been running around Rizal Park regularly. I’m generally the only one doing so, and get many stares from everyone else. I don’t mind the ladies taking a gander, but do get annoyed when the boys do. It might be that I’m homophobic, although I don’t think that’s it. And you can bet I won’t find myself quoted in the press on the topic – can you fucking believe morons like Tim Hardaway (NBA) and Peter Pace (top US general) who find themselves on the front page of the papers with 19th-century quotations about gays? Speaking your mind is one thing – being a cretin is another.

I think my annoyance at getting stares from males is a question of rivalry and hierarchy – males who stare at me are running through an algorithm which goes something like this:

1. This kano (white man/American) is running – I am not.
2. I feel a) inadequate – I am doing nothing, or b) superior – only idiots run around a park.
3. If 2b), then end loop. If 2a), then continue with 4.
4. Who is better – the kano or I? In other words, who gets laid more? Proxy questions as follows:
  -Who is better looking/more fit?
  -Who is better dressed/has more money?
  -In a fight, who would kill whom?
5. If I do not prevail on these questions, then a) stare at the kano, or b) attack him.

That’s about it. My belief is that I don’t lose many of these ‘tests of will,’ but maybe I’m fantasizing and making the whole thing up. In any event, 5b) does not occur with regularity.

Have been getting my laundry done at the hotel. They do a nice job and it’s done in one day. But this time, the maid brought over my favorite shorts and apologized profusely – she had gotten careless with the iron and shredded a patch of fabric. Torture. The shorts are actually ‘sahara pants’ – they turn into long pants when you zip on the legs. I brought a second pair with me, which was a good move, but I’m still annoyed about this pair. She’ll try to patch it up – I can only imagine the heinous patch she’ll come up with. Anyway…

People here really don’t know anything about Jews/Judaism. Which is no surprise at all….pretty typical around Asia. Just read that a student group in Taiwan has formed and is based on Nazism and Hitler admiration. The leader was quoted as saying that he admired Hitler’s strong nationalism and that this is required in Taiwan, given the country’s creaky position internationally. He also said that Taiwanese nationalism would need to be based on traditional Confucianism and other Chinese values. Oh lordy. I imagine this loser learned about the European WW2 experience in a 30-minute class and thinks he gets it. I know that shallow thinking is prevalent in every country, and is especially evident in the White House, but sometimes I find that Asian teaching methods and a predilection for simplifying complex concepts into slogans results in bad thinking. It’s almost as if European political immaturity and ‘massification’ (Ionesco’s term for the tendency of people to join together in mass movements) from 60 years ago lives on in Asia, albeit with very different roots and outcomes.

Anyway, I told you that story to tell you this one. Chinese presence and culture really is everywhere in the world…whereas we Jews only seem to cover the planet. You can indeed find some Jews in most places, but given the worldwide population of only 14 million we get stretched mighty thin, and in the Philippines you just don’t see us. The Chinese, on the other hand, have a far larger pool to draw on. I remember walking down Chinatown in Havana and hearing that 1% of Cubans are of Chinese descent. Talk about an unlucky career move for those poor souls. And the Chinese have been running around Asia for a millennium. They would truly be running the place, and perhaps the world, if the Ming dynasty hadn’t scuttled the sea program and closed off the country. I bought a book called 1421, about Admiral Zheng He’s voyages of discovery and trade. Haven’t managed to read it yet, but have read a number of articles on Zheng He and contemporary China and it’s fascinating stuff.

Made me wonder how much more of the world we Jews could cover with a population of 20 million, which was probably the historical headcount peak, before WW2. You may be wondering why the hell I’m having these sorts of thoughts, but recall that I have plenty of free time these days. I don’t know the answer to this question – and realize that if there were no Holocaust, many/most Jews would likely still be in Eastern Europe, and that Israel might not exist. Anyway, I went on to think about retribution for the Holocaust – I suppose I was in a bad mood and vengeance was an acceptable frame of thought at the time. Did the Germans truly repent and ‘pay’ for their actions? And what is the proper ‘payback’ for them? I’m well aware that German politicians, and many German citizens, have said the right things and have pushed for realization and change for Germany. Still, the crime was so immense (and I’m not claiming exclusivity here – Armenians have gotten screwed in unbelievable ways) that it’s almost surprising that Germany hasn’t been targeted in some way with violence and retribution from Jews themselves. You might claim that almost any population could be coerced into genocide – that it’s inside of us all. Still, it’s one thing to make such a claim and entirely another to have it in the history books. I can imagine an alternative history (like the two What If? books) in which a Jewish terrorist group, or even Israel itself (perhaps a radical group within the Israeli Defense Forces) grabs a nuclear weapon (Israel supposedly has 120 or so of these – shhh, don’t tell anyone), and bombs Berlin to smithereens. And perhaps adds Frankfurt as well – whatever takes the toll up to 6 million Germans, and perhaps another 2-3 million to make up for murdered Gypsies and others.

That’s a pretty horrifying thought, and obviously wouldn’t be positive in any conceivable way – except, in the minds of some, as a form of ‘payback’ and an eye for an eye. When I contemplate such a scenario, I must admit that I realize and am confronted with my own prejudices…that it would be a form of justice, albeit targeted against people who had nothing to do with the original crime, and perpetuating a cycle of death and misery. The comedian Chris Rock had a great monologue on O.J. Simpson. He was up-front about saying that O.J. was obviously guilty – but he also said that O.J. was probably pissed-off that Ronald Goldman (his ex-wife’s friend) was seen driving O.J.’s Ferrari, hanging out with the ex-wife, and so forth – and that ‘O.J. did it – but I understand.’ That’s pretty much how I feel when I think about retribution for the Holocaust. If Berlin were bombed back to the Stone Age, it would be awful…but part of me would discern a brutal logic. Do I need anger counseling? We all have our prejudices – that’s mine.

Changing gears…I have a meeting later today with the former Minister of Trade for the Philippines. Want to ask him a few questions about the pharmaceutical business here. He’s the brother-in-law of my friend Eric and I’m looking forward to the meeting, even though it’s in a private club in Makati City and I need to wear decent clothing. Oh well. Hopefully I’ll learn a lot from speaking with him.

Took a stroll down Roxas Blvs (‘Baywalk’) a few days ago. Nice lengthy promenade along the harbor, with the huge US Embassy along part of it. Manila Bay has famous sunsets, I had brought along my camera to take some shots. The stench of the harbor is tough, although there are countless locals hanging out who must have evolved antibodies to the smell. The sunsets are partly enabled by pollution – but whatever the cause, they are quite nice and here are a few shots:

More discerning readers will realize that I’ve started figuring out how to align photos and text in this blog - soon I’ll actually be able to juxtapose graphics and copy.  But give me time… 

That’s all for this week. I realize my Holocaust comments might kick up some dust – throw some back at me if you want. Over & out.

I’m not really in the mood to sit here and write for hours…so will try to keep this short. Was walking over to the Internet café to write this entry and was almost bowled over by a motorcycle – on the sidewalk. And I thought that sidewalks were for pedestrians (and, of course, millions of fruit and pirated DVD vendors).

Just finished a superb book, Cloud Atlas by David Mitchell. Finalist for the Man Booker Prize in 2004. It’s a series of nested tales which cross-reference and paint a bizarre yet compelling vision of the fall of global ‘civilization’ due to man’s hunger for wealth and power. Covers a huge amount of ground – the invasion of the Chatham Islands by the Maori (aided by the white man, of course) and their domination of the native Moriori, classical music in pre-WW2 Europe, nuclear power plant skullduggery, and so on. Mitchell shifts his voice from tale to tale, but the linkages are there. Probably one of the top ten books I’ve read. Mitchell has at least two other books – Ghostwritten and Numer9Dream – and I plan to get those too.

Went to see a gig last Friday night at Uzziah, right on Remedios Circle. I met the singer, Shane, at Ciboney a week or so before and she invited me to her show. She’s the one who sang ‘Better Days’ at Ciboney and blew us all away with her voice. Went to Uzziah and hung out for the entire 3-set show – quite good. And between sets, there were a couple Filipino comedians who regaled/tortured the audience. Both were male – one was simply fruity, the other obese, in drag, and foul-mouthed. Quite a pair. The bar was packed and the table in front of us (I took my friend Bell) comprised an entire family, with their little girl there too. I like that – you see it in Spain too, entire families going out for a drink/show, sometimes with grandparents in tow. And everyone gets into it – the song ‘I’ve Never Been to Me’ from the movie Priscilla Queen of the Desert was played, and the little girl knew all the words. I remember that moment because that song always make me think of my mother, who was known to everyone as Cooki but whose real name was Priscilla.

Was reading in the paper that there are only about 2,500 Filipinos whose first language is Spanish. Or perhaps it’s 2,500 families. Whatever. There are probably a good number in addition to those who have some familiarity with the language, but the point is that you won’t find many Spanish speakers here. Many of the words in Tagalog are loan words from Spanish – but even there, English contributes more. The Spanish were here for 350 years, we gringos for 50 – but the combination of recency and cultural juggernaut makes the USA and English the dominant foreign influence by far. But you can still find good chorizo, gambas, and rioja here, so I’m not complaining.

Went to see the cockfights last Sunday, in Pasay City Cockpit. Great name. Cockfighting is a huge deal here – the boys love it, wager a relative fortune, and hang out all day watching the birds go at it. I stayed for an hour or so and found it interesting – not so much the actual bird-fighting as the milieu and surrounding aspects. The Cockpit (every sizeable municipality seems to have one) is a smallish building with food vendors everywhere and a dirt-floor ring, much like a boxing ring, in the center. Seats and stands are packed with spectators, 95% of whom seem to bet like mad. Didn’t really figure out the system, which is entirely verbal and consists of bet-takers running around and lots of shouting – but it reminded me of tobacco auctions in the southern US. Works pretty well, from what I saw.

The ceilings and walls are festooned with adverts for various poultry feeds and medicines. Birds apparently get an impressive range of diseases – avian malaria, for one – and as with humans, the corporations have an endless range of products to sell. Here’s a couple shots:

I bet some $$ after watching a couple rounds. The relative size and speed of the two birds (roosters/cocks, technically) is critical, but I quickly observed that the real betting gets going seconds before the ‘face-off,’ when the handlers put the two birds face to face and then you can see which has the fire in the belly. In the 10-20 seconds before the fighting commences, most of the verbal bets are taken. There are signboards with names and favorites posted, and that’s another variable, but to me the crux of which bird was likely to prevail seemed very much in the moment.

When the two birds are placed on the ground by their handlers, they either fly at each other in a flurry, beaks and razor-clad claws a-flying, or they cluck around sit there until prodded to engage. You wouldn’t believe the noise – far crazier than any horsetrack (or dogtrack – don’t judge me, now) I’ve seen. Most of the fights are determined within a minute – one of the birds gets badly wounded by then. But sometimes it drags on for 5-10 minutes, until one of the birds is mortally wounded and ready for the supper pot.

Quite an experience and entire sub-culture around cockfighting. Needless to say, 99% of the audience is male. It’s difficult to describe much more than I’ve mentioned here, and still photos don’t do it justice – but I’ve posted a video on YouTube and you can access it at: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JZqd-mV7zYA. Pretty entertaining stuff.

All this talk about chickens reminds me of the time my fraternity brother Eric Steiner and I released a live chicken in the Tufts University library. I had been walking around Boston’s Chinatown earlier in the day with another fraternity brother, Art Luckower, who told me about the time, years before, when some brothers bought several live chickens in Chinatown, took ‘em back to Tufts, starved them for a few days, then released them at the Delta Tau Delta semi-formal. Imagine the mayhem – plenty of white meat for the birds to attack. Well, Art and I were walking along and we see ‘Eastern Asia Live Poulty Co.’ We walk in, buy a live chicken, which the proprietess trusses up and sticks in a plastic sack. Which was full of bird shit by the time we got back to Tufts…

I had a class to teach – believe it or not – that evening, so after hanging out with the chicken for a while – and preventing the fraternity dogs from eating it – we stuck it behind the bar and put some tables up to keep the dogs at bay. Went over to Ballou Hall for the class…which was provocative in and of itself, one of our students came out of the closet that very evening. Our class was part of the ‘Exploratory College’ – upperclassmen taught a course of their own making to freshmen. Basically, it was a device to facilitate the freshmen in the class sleeping with each other, and with the upperclassmen instructors. Our course was called ‘Changing Times’…original title was ‘Sexuality Since Freud’ but that was deemed too lurid. Anyway, our course was about sexuality since Freud and coming out of the closet seemed a reasonable act during one of the sessions…

Got back to the fraternity house after the class. It was a cold night, and the chicken was shivering behind the bar. And the dogs were getting brazen – they really wanted a go at the chicken. Eric and I decided to evacuate the chicken straightaway. Not too sure whose idea it was to donate the bird to the school library – but the idea was enthusiastically seized and we stuck the chicken in a bagpack, brought along a couple textbooks as cover, and strolled up the hill to the library, a facility Eric and I weren’t often seen around.

Got past the guard – the chicken was restless during the short walk, but kept quiet at the entrance. Eric and I got a seat, pulled out our books, and Eric started ‘studying’ while I went over to the stacks with the pack/bird. Went deep into the stacks…glanced around…no one there. Opened the pack, dumped the chicken out, helped it onto its feet, and went back to the table and joined Eric. Sat there pretending to read for a few minutes…saw a few friends at other tables, smiled at them. Before long, the chicken sauntered out from the stacks, into the study room itself, and someone let out a scream. That opened the floodgates…people started yelling & screaming, running up to look. Tufts students don’t get to see many lives animals besides cats and dogs. The library admin. finally called Tufts Police and a sergeant took the sorry thing away…doubtless to his kitchen at home for dinner. Eric and I got some strange looks from those who knew us well…and we eventually spilled the beans later that week at a fraternity party. But we evaded immediate suspicion and punishment, and the story remains one of my schoolday favorites…

Back to the present. Was walking through Robinsons Mall the other day, doing some errands. On my way out I passed by a vendor selling her wares – she was windmilling her arms, shouting a bunch of slogans, and generally trying hard to move her merchandise. Very theatrical – not something you’d see in Western malls. As I passed her, I looked her in the eye – and we both started laughing, for no good reason other than that I’d ‘caught her in the act.’ Good-natured woman – lots of ‘em here in the RP.

Went to the Ringside Bar in Makati on Monday night. I had met the manager, Louie, at Ciboney a couple weeks back, and he told me that Ringside was starting up midget boxing on Monday nights. That was something I wanted to see – not so much for the freak value of the event, more so because years ago I went to a bar in the Shinjuku district of Tokyo and participated in ‘dwarf tossing.’ Fairly self-explanatory – involved picking up a very short person wearing a velcro suit and heaving them up a wall also covered in velcro. Highest toss won. Sounds more violent/dangerous than it really is…but I can’t imagine the sport taking off in the US. I can see the lawsuits now.

There seem to be quite a few midgets/dwarfs/hobbits in the RP, due to various depressing factors: malnourishment, inbreeding, illness, fetal smoking/alcohol syndrome. I mentioned in an entry last year that there’s an entire bar in Manila called Hobbit House, staffed by midgets and featuring heavy metal acts. Weird, but a good time. So I’ve seen my share of short people here and now was about to see ‘em lace on the gloves and duke it out.

The boxing was solid – neither of the two midgets was going for broke, but they exchanged some good blows and put on a decent show. It became more interested when a normal-sized fellow entered the ring, put on gloves, got on his knees, put one hand behind his back, and ‘fought’ the two midgets simultaneously. That was fun to watch. Again, inconclusive, but entertaining. I’ve posted two more clips on YouTube for your viewing pleasure…here’s the midgets boxing each other: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=doAEXGAeXEA.

And here’s the 3-man free-for-all: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ooFdHrTdSNY. Comments welcomed.

I’ve no doubt mentioned many times the musical culture and mentality of this country. Everyone seems to be musical – whether it’s playing an instrument or merely singing – and the RP has been called the noisiest country in the world. With just cause. The next Shakespeare is unlikely to come from here – but nearly every band across Asia is Filipino and you can find ‘em playing in the unlikeliest spots (the Qingdao, China Shangri-La Hotel, for one). So when I’m here I get caught up in the musical lifestyle, and it’s great. I hear songs I haven’t heard in 20 years, being played by a cover band in a local bar while I drink 50 cent San Miguel beers.

With that in mind, when I noticed that the movie Dreamgirls was playing nearby, I decided to go see it. I don’t catch a lot of movies, and I don’t like the blockbuster Hollywood stuff…but I had heard from my dad and stepmother that this movie was very good…and I knew (for what it’s worth) that Jennifer Hudson won an Oscar for her performance. I never saw the musical on Broadway, but heard it was a popular mainstay for ages.

Enjoyed the movie. I think it’s based on The Supremes and Diana Ross, at least in a loose sense. I’ve always liked The Supremes, old fogey that I am, so I was predisposed to liking this movie. Jennifer Hudson has one mean voice…I was captivated. And what an all-star cast – Eddie Murphy, Jamie Foxx, Danny Glover, and Beyonce as the Diana Ross-like character. I’m not really up on the movies (or US pop culture, for that matter), so didn’t know that Beyonce was in this one – and didn’t recognize her at all. Only knew it was her when the credits rolled at the end.

My one criticism is a general one. Dreamgirls was originally a musical, and converting musicals to films requires massive suspension of disbelief and tone – whereas musicals are generally all or mostly music and little straight dialogue, movies are quite different. It’s jarring and odd to watch characters move from dialogue to song, and seems a bit forced and fake. I think I’d benefit from seeing the musical, to get that context. Anyway, I need to keep in mind that this is a ‘musical-movie’ and also that it’s not a literal bio of The Supremes – which is something I’d be very interested in seeing, or reading. Anyone got a book on this?

Afterward, went to the music store downstairs, and bought the Dreamgirls soundtrack (very good) and The Supremes Gold compilation (also very good). Watching this movie put me in a rhythm & blues mindset and I’ve been listening to this stuff for the past few days. Go see the movie and get the soundtrack if you don’t have it…

Seeing Dreamgirls also helped me – believe it or not – get a better sense of what makes me tick and turns me on. Watching/hearing a woman sing, belt out a tune with passion, makes me crazy. The Jennifer Hudson character, Effie, in Dreamgirls, was sexy for that reason alone. And you do see a lot of that musical passion here in the RP. I was never attracted to my female classmates in b-school, and rarely at work – just too business-minded and full speed ahead. I think I need to be with someone who’s very different from me and my experiences…someone who has a passion which might earn them no money, but which defines them and motivates others. And music is probably the area which brings the most passion – besides cockfighting, of course.

Went to get a massage yesterday. Parked on the street near the massage parlor was a ‘60s Corvette Stingray, in nice condition. Incongruous sight on Manila streets. Must investigate the classic car market here – you can probably pick up some sweet makes for good prices. And the weather makes it possible for old cars to last for decades…

Went to a karaoke joint last night. Felt like belting out some tunes, inspired by Dreamgirls and The Supremes, as well as nights at Ciboney – every night there you see a different live band (some with cute lead singers – go figure). The ‘KTV’ places are mostly the same – you pay a set cover, which gets you unlimited drinks for 60-90 minutes, then you pay a few hundred pesos if you want one of the GROs (Guest Relations Officers – young honeys) to sit with you and pour your drinks. You can buy the GRO a drink if you want – these are relatively pricey, as you’d imagine. There are lengthy songbooks, you just choose the songs you want to sing and the GRO takes the request up to the DJ/VJ. Then you’re up on stage doing your bit. Loads of fun – wish they had these places in the States when I was growing up (a continuing process, to be sure).

Japanese and Koreans tend to dominate the KTV places. They’re popular back home for them, and in the Philippines the prices are a fraction of what they’d pay at home – a huge bargain for them. Once in a while you see a white face in the KTVs…but not so often. So we’re scarce and very popular when we show up – the girls speak English and prefer to sing English songs, and generally don’t seem to like the Asian tourists. The Japanese were horrible to the Filipinos in WW2, admittedly a long time ago. And Koreans tend to be pretty rough-mannered – always smoking, red-faced, hammered, zero English, and clumsy. So an American/Brit/Aussies are in demand here – will perhaps spend a bit less than Japanese or Koreans, who pay huge sums in their home bars – but nevertheless popular. And anyway, the bar makes most of the money, the girls just see a bit of it – so most of the GROs will prefer to chat with white boys.

This night was random, largely because an ancient Japanese fellow showed up and showed a lively spirit. He was at least 70 years old, perhaps much older, and sat for a while, smoking, drinking, surrounded by a few GROs. He then got on stage and sang a few Japanese songs, none of which I knew, all of which had an old-time sound (made sense). I thought it was pretty funny – and so did Nikki, my GRO. Hard to imagine a 70+ year old Westerner showing up at a karaoke club, smoking, drinking, and singing onstage surrounded by cute Filipinas. But hey – the guy was spry and healthy, and perhaps this lifestyle had something to do with it. Far better to hang out at the club than in the hospital…more fun to sing love songs than to gulp down 5 meds/days…

Spent some time trolling bookmarked Websites this morning. Came across three beloved political comics/cartoonists – This Modern World by Tom Tomorrow, anything by Tom Toles (Washington Post), and Get Your War On by David Rees. You can find all of these online – highly recommended.

That’s about enough for now…gotta post the YouTube videos and that might take forever. Keep the faith and send me some comments, dear readers!

‘Si el vino per judica tus negocios, deja los negocios.’
(’If wine can ruin your negotiations, postpone your negotiations.’)
-Sign at Casa Armas, a Spanish restaurant in Manila

A good friend of mine was once arrested for public urination in Michigan. I was surprised when he told me about it, for two reasons. One – he’s not the kind of guy whom you’d expect to be outside pissing on a wall (i.e., he’s not like the rest of my friends, or I). Two – he’s not the kind of guy to brag about doing so, or for that matter, getting arrested for ‘the crime.’ For some reason that little vignette stuck in my mind, and popped up again this week. The trigger? Walking and running on the streets of Manila.

I probably mentioned the propensity of Filipino men (unfortunately, not the women) to drop their drawers and take a whiz against nearly any wall or bush in reach. My sense is that it’s all part of the general Asian mentality of treating the world/environment as one big trash dump; exacerbated, perhaps, by the lack of good toilet facilities at home or where they’re hanging out/working. I’m not too critical of taking care of business out in the open; in hygienically-mad Japan, after all, you can see old salarimen puking and pissing in random alleys after a hard night of drinking. Perhaps Westerners are the exception in this regard. In any event, the last few weeks here in Manila have exposed me to high levels of toxic urine fumes as I walk and jog – far worse than anything in Tokyo or the Manhattan subway system (try Astor Place Station in August).

Because walls seem to be the favored emptying station here, I’ve taken to walking in the middle or far side of the sidewalk, or even on the street when possible. And when I stretch before running, I am fairly careful about which wall or post to lean against. This has all been prompted by the fact that on a couple of occasions I was nearly overcome by the fumes as I stretched out my Achilles tendons. I can generally manage to stay free and clear while I’m running, but there are a few spots around Rizal Park which stink like hell, and when I’m in those areas I hold my breath and speed up. It makes me think about our destruction of the planet at a very local level, i.e. this wall or that patch of asphalt. Some places are already so ‘lived in’ that I strongly doubt we can ever rescue them…it may be a question one day of declaring some places to be ‘done’ and moving vast populations to newer, less polluted grounds.

Took another walk last weekend up to Intramuros, the old walled Spanish fort area of Manila. Again walked by the statue of Ninoy Aquino, whom Marcos assassinated in 1983, en route. Here it is: