Wanderlust Heaven!

I think my muse visited me this week – this entry will be a lengthy one. Manila has perhaps been the muse in question – this city is an amazingly freewheeling place and there’s loads to tell…

After a couple days at the Citadel Inn in Makati City – one of the planet’s true Sodoms – I moved over to the Malate/Ermite neighborhood, a somewhat more ‘normal’ neighborhood with lots of restaurants, bars, Internet cafes. Checked into the Ralph Anthony Suites – a friend had recommended it and it’s a very solid place. They have reasonable monthly rates, and my studio room had a decent little bathroom, aircon, a fridge, and a desk. It’s also very clean, and it’s dark – no window. Which is cool with me – most places have a crappy windowshade/blind which lets the sunlight in at dawn and inevitably wakes me. I can sleep forever in the room I have now – reminds me of rooms I’ve had in Spain, where they also know the value of a good dark cave after a hard night out.

This place is right near everything I require: restaurants, bars (there’s a very good place down the street), Internet café, coffee (Starbucks), huge mall with supermarket and all the usuals, and Rizal Park, around which I go running most nights. Rizal was the founding father of the Philippines – at least primer enter pares – and there’s an honor guard at the Rizal Monument in the park. Two guards are posted there, and they stand at attention and do a little jaunt at a regular interval. Reminded me of the guards at Westminster in London (or one of those palaces). On closer inspection, though, you see the differences. The Filipino guards aren’t exactly ramrod stiff – and they have little smiles – and they shake around a bit as if they’ve got a tune in their heads. And I imagine the mosquitos are worse here than in London.

The Ralph Anthony is thus fine for my purposes. There are a few quirks; I was trying to take a nap around 5 p.m. the day I checked in, but was disturbed by what sounded like a cat being tortured out in the hall. Turned out to be the resident parrot, which they keep in the hall for a few hours each day. Striking white thing – but it has a shriek that would wake the dead. Or me, for that matter. Anyway, I’ve adapted and anyway the sound of the aircon usually drowns it out.

First night in this neighborhood, went running out on the harbor road, Roxas Blvd. It was Friday night and the crowds milling around were enormous. In general it seems that 90% of Filipinos are either outside or in shopping malls at any given time. You wonder who’s minding the shop. Anyway, I dodged about a zillion people as I jogged along Roxas. The promenade is wide in places and there were a few stages set up, each with the usual fast-food purveyors and a pop band blaring out top 40 hits. Ran from the US Embassy down to the Cultural Center of the Philippines. Worked up a nice sweat and only about half a million people stared at me like I was crazy.

Anyway…forgive me if I’m repeating stuff I mentioned in last year’s entries from here, but I must mention that Filipinos are serious music and dancing fans and you’re always hearing US/British music played by cover bands and on radio stations here. Real blast from the past – while much of the stuff is recent crap, you hear plenty of 70s and 80s stuff and even a few Beatles and other classics.

The RP certainly has its problems…massive unemployment, crappy government, corruption (inherently related to crappy government), etc…but it’s oddly endearing. I feel welcome here – a bit of a circus freak, given the constant stares from locals – not too sure why. Maybe it’s because most things are on the surface here; in Japan I always felt very much apart from the natives…who would almost never stare at you (way too direct), but then again you’d never know what they were thinking. Filipinos do seem to be fascinated by gringos…and to generally like us. The people are polite, if direct – I’m stopped all the time on the street and asked questions, propositioned by women, offered goods (and services – grin) for sale. You really get the sense that people here are fun-loving and pretty laid-back, albeit with hard lives. You wonder what we’d have to do to piss off the locals – I’m sure there’s some tipping point. But it’s not easily reached…

Have been reading The Japan Journals by Donald Richie. Richie came to Japan after the war and is still there. He’s a renaissance man – journalist, movie critic, man about town. The book is basically a selection of his diary entries from 1947-2004 – brilliant stuff. He movingly outlines how things have changed – and not changed – over almost 60 years. In 1955 he took a train to the Kansai region and observed people hanging out the door, looking around or smoking. Fairly dangerous practice, but in those days life was cheap. Not now. I can personally say that the Japanese government nowadays is seriously maternalistic – when you take the subway there’s often a long monologue on the loudspeakers about minding the gap, being careful, etc. The government seems to treat its citizens like children – with the best intentions, one hopes, and not with an eye toward fascistic control.

Richie pretty much met all the foreign biggies who came through Japan – Francis Ford Coppola (cool photo of 19-year-old Sofia Coppola in the book), Ian Buruma, Roger Ebert (can you believe that fat fuck outlived Gene Siskel?), many more. Such a fascinating life – contrasting with my own constrained existence in Japan, which rarely broke beyond the boundaries of apartment, office, park and bars. My yoga teacher and friend Leza Lowitz edited the book and that’s how I found out about it. Anyone who’s remotely interested in Japanese culture, go pick this up now.

One of Richie’s passages particularly spoke to me, one on being solo. I’ll plagiarize it directly right here:

’30 April 1993. I am more and more able to detect a small but evident pattern in the carpet. My life seems to have been predicated upon not joining. So far as I can remember I have rejected the group, any group – the Boy Scouts, my family. Any kind of teamwork also makes me uncomfortable, any having to work with others – whether on shipboard during the war, during the Occupation of Japan, working in companies (Zokeisha) – all were unhappy times. I first thought this probably had to do with my fear of competition, but now I am not so sure…It is not competition but politics I dislike…’

There you have it. It’s not that Richie’s misanthropic – on the contrary, he seems to have a jam-packed social life. It’s just that he seems to need to retreat and not be pegged to any label. And I like the bit on competition vs. politics. I’ve often thought I’d lost my desire to compete over the years, along with much of my ambition – but after reading this piece I think more like Richie, it’s that I hate political bullshit (while being intensely interested in fixing government and leadership), and not that I fear healthy competition. I don’t think that I’m particularly misanthropic, either – I love my family and friends, it’s more that I need space and privacy and resist being dragged along or labeled.

Anyway, Richie’s book helped me put my time in Japan in perspective. That, plus Lost in Translation (by Sofia Coppola), which provided a humorous counterpart to Richie’s diaries. Glad I took the time to digest both.

Back to the Philippines. Am here in Manila for a month or so, as mentioned earlier. And it’s relaxing to be in one place for that long – last year I traveled like mad, and while in the States just now I was all over the place as well. Malate is a real barrio (the Filipinos use quite a few Spanish words, but can’t be said to speak the language), and I’ve settled into a solid routine here. My project is going fine – bumping along, not too much work, mostly getting our hands on some data and thinking it through. In a few weeks we’ll have made sense of it all and decided if/how to proceed.

I’m sure I mentioned last year that it seems half of the young(ish) men here work as security guards for shops, hotels, etc. It’s shocking, really – it’s certainly not a sector that provokes innovative thinking and mental development, and the cost to businesses must be painful. Pretty sad that this is the only job many young men can get. On the flip side, it is easy to get directions around here – always a plethora of guards milling around and happy to talk to a kano (Americano – slang for foreigner). One security company is called – seriously – Shooters Security. And they have some major league firearms. The incidence of guns here is a bit scary – there’s always a guard with a pistol just down the hall from my room. I should take advantage of the opportunity to take riflery lessons – maybe I’d actually come to like firearms. But knowing the general intelligence of those packing, I doubt it.

Prices in Manila are very reasonable…but you can spend money here, whereas in Cebu or the smaller cities you really have to make an effort. Taking an example near to my heart: the go-go bars on P. Burgos charge the equivalent of $5 for 3 San Miguel beers during happy hour, not half bad – but in Cebu the happy hour beers are around 60 cents, rising to a buck during normal hours. And the convenience stores sell all sorts of booze, including heinous Spanish/Italian-named plonk – haven’t tried it yet but might soon. Come on down…

So you can have a good time here, for sure. Not many sights to see, but regular street life is so lively that it takes the place of sight-seeing. Last Friday night after going running, I walked around Malate and I swear the size of the mobs reminded me of Madrid. There really might be something to that Latin connection after all. And if you happen to want any Viagra, there are guys selling it right on the street. Let me know if you need any…
Went into a karaoke place to let off some steam – not that I had actually accumulated any, but I do miss singing. There are different sorts of ‘KTV’ places – the main distinction being ‘family KTV’ which are wholesome and you can take your kids there, and other KTV places which generally feature ‘GROs’ (Guest Relations Officers) – basically, hot girls who sit with you while you sing/drink and tell you that you’re a wonderful singer, handsome, etc. Japanese and Koreans love this sort of shit – they come down in droves from their countries, which also have tons of these places but cost 10 times as much. So you see many Japanese/Korean karaoke places here, with names like ‘Roppongi’ and menus in Japanese and Korean. I don’t think the local girls are big fans of these guys – particularly the Koreans, who are often crass, smoke like chimneys, and rowdy. At least most of the Japanese guests are well-mannered – although that can change pretty fast once you get a few drinks in them. The girls love to see Westerners come in – as I mentioned earlier, Americans are actually popular here…and we’re usually reasonable well-mannered…and we don’t smell like a tobacco factory…and we can hold our alcohol. So when I visit one of these places, I feel like a celebrity. Even when I go with my Japanese friend, I can lend him a bit of my aura. And because he’s Japanese, at least the establishment knows that high spending is likely. Makes a pretty good team, actually…

Walked home around 3 a.m. that night. The dark underbelly of the city is being scratched at that hour – saw a guy sorting trash on the sidewalk, and the smell was incredibly rancid. There are some real hellholes around this city, and in most similar cities – people gotta make a living and you wouldn’t believe some of the ways they do it…

On Saturday I walked around Rizal Park, my usual running spot. Inside the park there’s a row of noteworthy Filipinos. I probably knew 20% of them…not too bad, I thought. And some of them are from way back – Rajah Suleyman, who fought the Spanish in Manila (and obviously lost), Chief Lapu-Lapu from the Cebu area, who fought and killed Magellan. The sign claimed that Lapu-Lapu and his boys were responsible for delaying Spanish control of the Philippines for several decades. Which might be true…but I always thought that Magellan and his expedition was largely to circumnavigate the globe, and not to claim territory. Might be wrong about that. Anyway, the inclusion of these non-Christian heroes was interesting…there was certainly a slight anti-Spanish/anti-colonial message in there, even though latter-day Filipinos are overwhelmingly Roman Catholic and very much shaped by the Spanish presence. And probably just as much, or more, by the more recent American occupation – which had little to do with the religious dimension, but which seems to have washed over this place with its music, film, and other cultural weapons.

Traffic cops are posted around Rizal Park. Most of them are middle-aged and have that classic banana republic traffic cop look: brown skin, dark shades, slightly sweaty brow, and starched uniform worn even in the most sweltering heat. Seem to remind me of ex-President-for-life Marcos, for some reason. And I thought of Marcos again soon thereafter, as I walked to the former walled enclave of Intramuros (literally, ‘inside the walls’). This was the old center of Spanish power in the Philippines, and apparently was quite an amazing sight before U.S. bombs devastated it during the war. More on this in a minute.

As I strolled over to Intramuros – slow pace, not wanting to bring on the sweat – I saw a large statue, and is my habit, went up to check it out. Turned out to be a memorial to Ninoy Aquino, the opposition leader who was gunned down by Marcos’s goons as he descended an airplane at Manila’s airport. Talk about brazen…I recall the news reports from back then, I think it was 1985 or ’86. And that was too much for the good people of the Philippines to take – within a few months, after another round of crooked elections, they deposed him and selected Aquino’s widow Cory as the new President. Wonderful story, to be sure. Of course, Cory didn’t have a great term in office…her work was certainly cut out for her. She had to weather a series of near-coups and natural disasters. But hey, it was progress.

Then over to Intramuros, which has several of the old walls standing and which remains an interesting spot – probably the only real tourist attraction in the capital. The oldest church in the Philippines is still there, and looks old – not sure how much was damaged. And there’s a huge cathedral and a few old administrative building extant – well worth a visit. One side of Intramuros used to look out over the Chinese section of town – the Chinese were thought to be trouble-makers and the Spanish wanted to keep an eye on ‘em. Funny how times change…imagine the Spanish today trying to manage the Chinese.

Of course, the troubles of the country have not been kept out of Intramuros. There are the usual shanty-towns and pop-up eating joints, beggars, you name it. When the walls come down the family moves in. I did enjoy walked around this old place, I had my little iPod Shuffle with me and it was good to stretch my legs, see the sights, and listen to Clannad, Matchbox Twenty, U2, and the New Radicals while doing so. And I understand that there are a few nice/romantic restaurants in the better-preserved parts of Intramuros, must try them out sometime.

Walked back to Ermite, to my hotel. Workers were painting yellow borders on the sidewalks – I guess the neighborhood must have a bit of cash to use up. Noticed that the fresh paint had not been ‘honored,’ people had walked right through it and already there were footprints in both paint and yellow footprints all over the sidewalks. This is a random place…people do what they want. You wouldn’t imagine this happening in Germany. But Germans are to Filipinos as Axl Rose is to Cat Stevens (aka Yusuf Islam). Or something like that…

Walked around some more, saw a pornographic cake shop called Kink’s down the street. Penis-shaped cakes on offer…as well as other provocative products. Probably do a roaring business for bachelor/bachelorette parties.

Ate breakfast at McDonald’s on Sunday. Remember all the reports of McD’s troubles a couple years ago? Crappy share price, losing out to competitors? Well, from what I’ve read lately the stock price is way up, and McD’s is focusing more on same-store sales rather than simply buying land and opening stores. And it seems to be working well, and reflected in the everyday customer experience. Everywhere I travel, McD’s has customized products. In India, McAloo Tikka (potato burger with peas). In the RP, McRice Burgers. In Japan, Teriyaki McChicken. I think they’ve gotta do stuff like this, and I’ll bet these products outsell the usual mainstays. And you know what – they’re not half bad. In the States I tend to avoid fast-food – I want to watch my girlish figure. But in the RP, there are reasons to eat it from time to time – one is that the local cuisine is not great, in my opinion. And there is huge diversity of fast food here – Chinese, Japanese, as well as the usual burgers and pizza. So you can eat OK for not much cash. The only other type of place I frequent fast food is in the UK, where a ‘normal’ meal can cost a fortune.

Back was sore…although better than it was in the cold of Boston, where I felt like an old man. There’s a good massage place a few storefronts down from my hotel – got an hourlong shiatsu/Swedish combo for $9. And it was excellent – I felt 5 years younger afterwards. There are much cheaper places around, including the old ‘rub and tugs’ – but I wanted a real massage and the masseuse was skilled here. Must make this a weekly or twice-weekly affair…

Had a couple calls and meetings for my project. Made a bit of progress, but need more information…which is hopefully forthcoming. Anyway…my social life is full-on already. I already knew a few people here, and it doesn’t take long to meet others. Met a cool half-Spanish/half-Filipina named Catherine (awesome Penelope Cruz eyebrows – am I developing an eyebrow fetish?) – hung out with her for Valentine’s Day…which is a huge deal here. There are parades, store sales, rock bands playing all around town, etc. Everyone asks you how was your Valentine’s Day. It would not be particularly hard to get a date if you needed one – I think it’s a badge of shame not to have a date for that night.

Walked down to take a look at a gym in Malate. Mostly went just for the walk, to see the ‘hood. Prefer to run outside, and my hotel room’s large enough for me to spread out my yoga mat and exercise right there. The gym was OK – a bit blokish, and basic. But it is 24 hours and not expensive. It’s just that the weather outside is usually good, except during the rains, and I generally dislike working out with tons of others around. So will give this a miss for now.

On the walk there I noticed endless signs touting the upcoming expansion of Hotel Sogo into Pedro Gil Street, Malate. This chain is notorious for offering short-time stays – you can use the rooms for a couple hours for amorous liaisons, no problem. I think it’s technically against the law here, but the value proposition of Hotel Sogo is precisely that. I walked by the Sogo already in Malate, it’s like the one in Cebu (where I first noticed this establishment); it’s painted entirely in red and yellow and looks like some sort of circus. Which I suppose it is – god knows what’s going on inside at any given minute. The in-your-face garishness extends to their advertising strategy – which is, in a word, ubiquity. Sogo is the co-branding king – it creates signs with other establishments like bars, shops, etc. – and shares the sign space with them. I imagine Sogo pays all/most of the signage costs – so undercapitalized/cheapo businesses get a free sign, with Sogo painted across half of it. Kind of confusing…you keep thinking that Hotel Sogo is just up ahead, when it’s merely that they’re advertising on the shoe store’s sign. I had to laugh, though, when taking a cab back to the hotel a few nights ago and passed a police station – the sign of which was co-branded with Hotel Sogo. The police station and a notorious short-time hotel sharing a sign – beautiful!

Walked back to the hotel from the gym. Saw many people hanging out in front of one store, turned out to be an employment agency. Multiple positions offered overseas – ‘Domestics in Dubai’ etc. Nothing local. Shameful, in my mind. The government here lives on taxes from Filipinos toiling overseas, and does little to create jobs here. Families are torn apart and the leadership does nothing.

Found an Internet café with an Ethernet cable, allows me to plug my laptop in and access the Internet. Besides emails, handling my finances, etc. I need to download episodes of the only TV program I like, 24. I bought a ‘season pass’ on iTunes, but the episodes are 500MB apiece and it takes forever on wireless, so I wanted to plug in and double the speed. Even that way, it takes 5+ hours…so I just check email and handle other matters for an hour a day, and after a week I’ve got the program. Works fairly well. I’m happy I generally hate TV and only watch this show. Otherwise I’d be spending all my time mucking around with this sort of crap.

Went to a go-go bar last night and played the game Jenga. You might know this one…involved building a tower of wooden blocks, then removing individual pieces and stacking them on top, creating a new structure. You collapse the tower, you drink. Good game, fun to play in a group. Minimal mental involvement required. Good for me.

Went home that night. Guy walked by me on the street and said ‘hey Joe.’ He wasn’t quoting Jimi Hendrix – locals often call foreigners ‘Joe’ after GI Joe during the war. Nice habit.

Did I mention this is a pretty good town for a bachelor’s party? If not, there you go.

Will get back to adding a few photos next week. Gotta run. Over and out.

This entry was posted on Thursday, February 15th, 2007 at 12:06 am and is filed under Travel. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.