Wanderlust Heaven!

My postings are starting to slow down – I think a reasonable pace these days is once/week, with somewhat longer entries. This trend is likely to be driven by the following:
1. Desire to minimize time in front of the computer – it reminds me too much of being at the office;
2. Numerous distractions, all of which are loads more fun than typing;
3. Hesitancy to whip out my $3,000 laptop in public places (buses, etc.) in front of folks who make less than that in a calendar year(s), and
4. My pent-up blog-writing energy is slowly dissipating.

There are countervailing factors, though, which will keep my fingers whizzing away, but probably on non-blog projects. I’ve started working on a couple book projects, and want to pick up the pace on those. I also promised myself I’d regularly boot up some Japanese and Spanish language CDs and improve my skills – I’ve done nothing there since leaving Boston. So we’ll see what happens – at the very least I’d like to get my gut in the same shape as my fingers. It’s a little depressing when your digits are the most impressive part of your body…

Got to Manila last Thursday night, and proceeded to my hotel in the Makati City section of town. It’s the least chaotic area of Manila – but still pretty wild. The five-star hotels are in Makati, and I’ve often stayed at the Shangri-la and Peninsula, which are very nice. I recall once checking into the Pen for a meeting, and then having a semi-comical experience trying to get out of there and return to Hong Kong. I checked out and headed to the airport, then heard that HKG was getting nailed by a serious typhoon and it was shut down. So I went back to the Pen, they welcomed me back, I went out and had fun, and the next morning I again checked out (after looking at the weather report) and headed yet again to the airport. At first it was all systems go – flight arrived in Manila on time, we took off, got near HKG, and then the pilot told us that the weather was too rough and we’d have to return to Manila. We got back there around midnight, I went straight back to the Pen and checked in again. The front desk people had a good laugh, and sent up a bottle of champagne, which I brought back down to the lobby to share with them. Finally, the next day, I got out of there and made it to HKG. Three check-ins/outs in three days…probably not a world record, but bizarre no matter how you look at it.

This time I took it easy in Manila, no real stories to report. My hotel was in the sleazy section of P. Burgos Street – that’s ‘Padre Burgos Street’, by the way. Not too sure who the good father was, but he wouldn’t be happy about the goings-on in his namesake street these days. I walked around, soaked in the grimy ambience, had a few drinks, then went back to my hotel to kick back. The next day I took a bus up to the northern Luzon mountain city of Baguio, which is where Manila’s elite (and the President) go to escape from the sweltering heat of the southern highlands. When I say ‘sweltering’ only those of you who have spent time in Asia or Africa will really comprehend how hellish it can be – I take a dry handkerchief with me every time I step outside, and within a few minutes it’s completely drenched. Sometimes I can actually wring out my own sweat and watch it fall to the street – where it doubtless nourishes some nameless insect or rodent. This is called the food chain.

Filipinos are born entertainers and musicians. There’s no escaping singing and ‘videoke’ machines in the islands. On my bus to Baguio the DVD player was going non-stop, and towards the end of the ride I heard the old song ‘when the lights go down in Massachusetts,’ which I thought quite funny given the distance from my home state. Can’t even recall who sang that one, but my brother-in-law Dave certainly will – Dave, please post a comment with the answer to this trivia question.

Baguio’s way up there in the mountains. I’m not sure of the elevation – something like 1500 meters – but it’s really nestled in there, and it struck me that it would not be particularly difficult for rebels to hide out there indefinitely. And that’s what the communist/whatever New Peoples’ Army has been doing for decades. Its raison d’etre is difficult to discern these days – my understanding is that the rebels despised old President Marcos and he’s long dead and gone – but in any event they fight on. I can perhaps now understand how Bin Laden and his cronies have avoided detection for 5 years…mountains and villages are the way to go if you’re on the lam – so keep that in mind.

The local Baguio paper had a piece reassuring foreigners about their safety in northern Luzon; I wished I hadn’t seen that, as I wasn’t dwelling on my personal safety, and after a look at the local police and security folks, I was less than comforted. So, to be safe, I sat on a stool at the Rumours bar and drank San Miguel Lights till I was feeling much safer. En route there I ran into an American fellow from St. Louis and his Filipina girlfriend. Rick and Eva were at the same hotel in Manila, and rode to Baguio on the same bus, so we got to know each other on the way. And we had a good time at Rumours – it’s amazing how easy the San Miguels were going down. I usually hate light beer and I have a philosophical problem with it – but this brand is tasty and less filling. All the things that Bud Lite/Miller Lite are not.

Back to security forces: because of the various rebellions going on in the Philippines, i.e. communists in northern Luzon and various Muslim insurgencies in the south (Abu Sayaf, Moro Islamic Liberation Front, etc.), and perhaps also because of the poverty and crime, nearly every establishment in Philippine cities has a security guard. It’s remarkable – you walk into a 7-11, and there’s a 20-year-old fellow with a serious-looking firearm. You go to the mall – and the malls here are probably the best in the world, you’ve gotta see ‘em – and you get body-searched and looked over by a guard with a machine-gun. There must be a couple million security guards out of a total population of 80 million. If the government were somehow to clear up the rebellions – and they’ve been trying for 40 years or so – the unemployment rate would probably double, and that’s really saying something. I wonder how critical this function truly is – there are probably 3 possibilities:
1. Violence/crime is a major problem, danger exists, and these guys are absolutely necessary;
2. Unlike the US situation, Filipinos are highly proactive about safeguarding their assets – so there are no ‘soft targets’, but that requires massive security, and/or
3. It’s a scam to soak up millions of unemployed young males, who would misbehave and riot if idle.

I don’t know the ‘answer’ but do welcome reactions from my Pinoy friends in the studio audience. Feel free to castigate my superficial analysis, I can take a punch, particularly if I learn something in the process!

Baguio is modeled on Washington, D.C. In my humble opinion there are better cities to model – Paris, for one, Rio for another – but given that Baguio was once a US military base, it’s not surprising that they plumped for ol’ D.C. Just outside the city is the rather large Camp John Hay, named after a former US Secretary of State (and onetime personal aide to Abe Lincoln – kind of cool) who served at the time of the Spanish-American War, and thus was deeply involved in our ludicrous attempt to ‘uplift and Christianize’ the Filipinos after the war – which, given that they were already deeply Roman Catholic and sufficiently uplifted, led them to reject our patronizing and start a struggle against the US, which was reportedly put down in very bloody fashion. Hmmm…wonder how our current attempt to uplift and democratize the Iraqis/Arabs/Muslims will go? Especially since we didn’t bother considering that these people are not monolithic…oh hell, there I go again.

I loved Baguio’s location and climate – far less humid than Manila, and amid some beautiful hills and mountains. At one point I wasn’t enjoying the hills that much, as I was sliding down them – then I noticed that my docksiders both were missing part of the sole (the rubber part that grips the ground), so I fixed that problem and was then up and down the hills with glee. And while Baguio is no hilltop idyll – there’s plenty of poverty – the mountains somehow manage to partially overcome the squalor and offer a veneer of mystery to the place. Definitely worth a visit.

As I walked back to my hotel after the drinking session at Rumours I passed one of many, many videoke parlors and heard a fellow (or perhaps cat being tortured) mangling the old song ‘just once…can we finally find a way to make it right…’. The fellow’s voice broke on ‘finally’ and I started to giggle helplessly as I stumbled home. I again must appeal to my brother-in-law to post the artist for this one – The Commodores? Air Supply? Toto? Dave will know…

The second night I was there I was told to visit a bar area known as ‘Nevada Square.’ It was a Saturday night, so I was in the mood for some fun. But as soon as I arrived it was complete chaos – the power had gone out, and the entire area was in the dark. And I hadn’t had any clue en route (in a cab) that there was an outage, so when I reached the place I thought it was more or less normal that hundreds of people would be running around yelling in the dark. Sort of appealing…and they were selling drinks at half price to unload them before they went warm. So things got even crazier, and that’s about all I seem to remember that night. Oh yes, one more thing. As I was going back to my hotel, with most of the city still dark (there were some places with noisy generators cranking away), I passed a tenement building and heard a woman crying. Trying not to overanalyze this, I still managed to create a series of vignettes to explain her cry. Was her entire stock of food spoiling, and she had no more money for the week? Was her baby sick and scared of the dark? Did she fall and hurt herself? Etc. etc. Whatever it was, my sense was that she was stuck in her situation and was desperate. Of course, it could have been nothing at all – and perhaps my headset is overly negative. But I ascribed her cry to misery and proceeded with my (somewhat inebriated) train of thought.

Being stuck – really stuck – in a bad situation is my greatest fear. I’ve worked myself in and out of some rough patches over the years, but truly fear one that is beyond my capabilities to escape. And it strikes me that across the world, there are countless people who are stuck in terrible situations – no money, can’t move away from their hovel, poor health, foul water, etc. I’ve seen this in many, many countries – Mozambique, Morocco, Mexico, India and many other Asian countries. It’s unbelievable depressing. A couple years ago I finally read the old classic Emotional Intelligence, and learned that one of the ways people make themselves feel better – with a good degree of success – is to consider the relatively worse-off situations of others. I didn’t find this uplifting – in fact, I had hoped the data would indicate otherwise – but apparently it works. Well, I don’t think it works for me. If I’m in the shits, hearing that the guy down the street is near death doesn’t raise me up – it probably does the opposite. So I found the case of the Baguio woman crying quite distressing.

And this all comes down to the ability to choose. This, to me, is the greatest freedom. I can pretty much go wherever I want whenever I want – and many of my friends and family can say the same. We’re not really stuck in our situation, we’re mostly there of our choosing. This is incredibly powerful, people – and this to me is what’s uplifting, as opposed to contemplating the misery of those less fortunate. If we can properly frame up the positives in our lives – love, family, freedom, fun, learning, etc. – I think that’s more than sufficient to raise our spirits and find some joy in life. Is this too obvious to bother stating? Perhaps…but perhaps there’s also an opportunity to trump Emotional Intelligence and come up with newer/better pathways to emotional stability and happiness. Or perhaps I just missed the entire sense of that book…you make the call.

A related topic also comes to mind. The Philippines suffers from active rebellions and widespread poverty which sap its resources and contribute to daily difficulties. In the West these things aren’t really issues, and life is generally pretty easy, albeit in a superficial sense. In countries like the Philippines, I think that most people’s eyes are open wider than ours in the West. To get by on a daily basis, you can’t trust institutions like the government, the police, etc., you probably need to skirt the law and work your channels to get things done. I recall that while living in Johannesburg, I was told that if anyone suspicious approached my car at a red light, I was legally empowered to blow off the light and drive away. That was in the lawbooks…and there are countless examples which aren’t there but probably should be. In many countries, you’re acutely aware that you are THERE – in South Africa, in India, in the Philippines – because being THERE is the endless topic of debate and every nuance is discussed – the price of bread, of petrol, what building is going up, etc. Locals know all of this shit. In the US, I reckon it’s very different. I don’t think that many/most Americans think of being in the US…the US is IT to them, there’s nowhere else to be. And while numerous topics are being debated – price of gas, political races, 401(k) laws, etc., both the street-level stuff and international news are mostly out of sight and mind. Even when I was in Australia, I noticed that nearly everything was in the news – road construction, price of wool, minor government ministers, etc. – even the most humdrum topics were the topic of discussion and debate. Australia only has 20 million people, so perhaps each and every person has a bit more burden in running the place. One huge topic of debate was the Australian military’s involvement in ending the violence in East Timor. This was all over the news, and I found the debate informative and intense. I contrast that with the lack of debate in the US press before the invasion of Iraq. Even newspapers I respected, such as the New York Times and Washington Post, laid down like poodles in front of W’s propaganda machine and appeal to patriotism. As Ambrose Bierce wrote, patriotism isn’t the last refuge of a scoundrel, it’s the first – and that’s the bread the US public was sold, with no competition or outcry from the media. I suppose my point is this: in the West, particularly in the US, people are most assuredly free and have fantastic freedom of choice…but at the same time, we let it lull us to sleep and we don’t get mentally involved in the complex decisions of our time. Obviously, one of these decisions was Iraq – it’s not a decision that I deem difficult, because I think it was deeply uninformed and foolish – but it certainly gave rise to a series of complications once the trigger was pulled.

I hope Bush keeps exercising and abstaining from alcohol, because I want him to live long and hopefully see what he’s wrought. I do hope things turn around in Iraq, but I don’t hold out much hope for that now. This wasn’t a particularly good time for a man with Bush’s limited intellect, interest in learning, and lack of worldview to come along…and one can imagine his future lack of impact when he’s ex-President, as opposed to Jimmy Carter’s good works around the planet. Perhaps the only humorous bit is imagining the contents of the future George W. Bush Presidential Library – after all, W doesn’t do much reading, nor does he dictate or publish much of note. If you have any ideas for what W should put in his future library, please let me know. I have some ideas – such as the names of the US soldiers killed & wounded in Iraq – but I suppose that idea wouldn’t fly.

OK, that was a rant, sorry for that. I feel better now. Anyway, back to the more reportorial stuff. Some other experiences I had in Baguio:

• Buying cheap used books – books are incredibly cheap, new and used, here. You can pick up a used paperback for $0.20. And I picked up a few for the road. I’m not sure what to make of this, but Lake Wobegone Days by Garrison Keilor (sp?) was everywhere – I’ll bet it was required high school reading, then all the students turned up and sold their copies at the used book stores. Sci-fi was also everywhere, particularly some by Robert Heinlein. Couldn’t find much by Isaac Asimov, though – was looking for a copy of The Empire series, I loved that as a kid.
• As mentioned earlier, there’s a lot of poverty here. That said, plenty of people were smoking, going to the hair salons, playing videogames, etc. They might be buying 1 cigarette at a time, but this reminds me of something my father says from time to time, which is that people have money for what they really want. They might sleep on the ground, work 3 jobs, and have 2 shirts to their name, but if they love to smoke they’ll go right ahead and suck down at least a few sticks every day…
• Lines at the ATMs were unbelievable. Might link to the previous point, i.e. I’m sure most people were making very small transactions, and going to the ATM nearly every day. I recall doing the same thing when I was at Tufts University – I never was too sure that the machine would actually give me my $20, and every trip to the ATM was a combination of a gambling junket/religious experience.
• Baguio City Market is a sprawling ecosystem that would take a day to travel round. Some good stuff in there…I’m mixed about markets, I hate the hawkers screaming at me and pushing crappy goods, but do like to browse around and get some fresh food. I never buy anything but food in these places – the knick-nacks are worse than useless to me – and prefer to visit at lunchtime for some fruit, cheese, and bread. I’d rather something more relaxing around dinner, i.e. a beer or three at Rumours.
• I went out to the aforementioned Camp John Hay, which has some nice sites and historical plaques. Nearby is Wright Park, where parents take their kids on horse rides (there are about 100 horses there, you can imagine the fresh aroma). The Filipino President has a summer house, called The Mansion, on a hill in the park. It’s a bit like Camp David in the States, but decidedly funkier. Workers were busy tearing up the walkways and flowerbeds leading to the place, and presumably putting in enhanced versions – although I cynically saw the exercise as make-work. Of course, the approach to the US White House is no longer that gripping – now that Pennsylvania Avenue has been turned into a concrete disaster. I recall my parents taking my sister and I to Washington, and later living there after university – walking to the gates of the White House was kind of cool. Now they’ve put these huge concrete pylons blocking Penn Ave and you can barely see the front of the place from Lafayette Park. Perhaps we should move the President to Baltimore and give the street and building back to the people.
• You can walk insight the gates of The Mansion to get a closer look. The President isn’t there now, and rarely is, so security seems loose. One of the two guards offered to take my photo, which was a nice gesture. I wondered why he was being so helpful – in my experience, most guards are either surly or have an ulterior motive in mind. In Thailand the guards at wats (temples) are in league with the cab drivers and as soon as you ask them where something else is, their buddy magically appears with a rip-off fare just for you. Here, at The Mansion, as the guard was about to take my photo he asked me if I had a companion. I looked around and there was no one but he and I for 10 meters…so my status was fairly obvious…and I wondered if the guard was just being inquisitive/friendly, or whether he was trying to pimp for me. I just told him I was solo, and didn’t wait around for the next shoe to drop. I might well have misread his intentions – hopefully I did – but as I walked away I chuckled quietly. Was the President’s security guard trying to hook the Yankee tourist? We’ll never know…
• Back to Camp John Hay: this place does a nice job outlining the evolution of the country from Spanish colony to US colony (with the camp being constructed at the turn of the 20th century for the US forces), to Japanese possession during WW2, back to the US as a leased property after 1946 (when the Philippines gained independence), and finally directly to the locals in 1991. Interestingly, WW2 in the Philippines began right here, with the first Japanese bombs hitting several targets in the camp. Soon after it fell, and that began the Japanese conquest of the islands. Also interestingly, the Japanese surrender in 1945 took place here too…with General Yamashita signing the papers the day after the overall Japanese surrender in Tokyo Bay. Apparently Yamashita complained about the wording of the surrender papers, and also said he couldn’t speak for his government…but soon woke up to the fact that Japan had given its unconditional surrender the day before.
• Sometimes I compare the Philippines with Thailand, for some strange reason. I’ve visited both several times. Thailand seems less chaotic and more organized, and also enjoys much more tourism. That may be because Thailand was never really occupied and damaged, and has quite a special Buddhist culture that many foreigners find appealing. I’m not sure, though…it might be a chicken or egg situation, Thailand is more calm and organized, hence tourists find it easier to visit…or is Thailand more prosperous because of the tourism, and thus can devote more resources to infrastructure? Haven’t thought it through in more detail than that, but comments are welcome…
• Went out for a run one night and sprained my ankle. I waited until sunset to avoid the heat, but of course visibility gets bad and you really need to keep one eye out for branches and one on the (shattered/uneven) pavement. That tends to make you a bit dizzy, and I finally lost sight of the pavement and sure enough, nailed my ankle on a bad stretch of sidewalk. Nothing too serious, just another depressing minor injury for a few days. On the flip side – my sister Bonnie the chiropractor treated me for a very sore shoulder before I left Boston. She adjusted me (rigorously – thanks Bon!) and told me to go and buy a resistance cord for shoulder exercises. I did, and brought it with me, and it has really worked wonders. It’s a great workout for the entire upper body – I feel like a Jewish Popeye now – and the accompanying DVD shows you how to do all the exercises, and also has some excellent abdominal routines that I hope will finally give me back that six-pack I had at the age of 8.
• Learned that Gloria Macapagal-Arroyo, the Filipino President, has her State of the National Address on July 24. The day before I leave the country – nice timing. I believe that last year there was a minor armed uprising by several junior army officers the day before the address – nothing too serious, but a bit jarring. Reminds me of the time I visited a certain nameless country I shouldn’t have been visiting, and the day before I left I was having lunch at a bar. The bartender asked me when I was leaving, I said tomorrow, he did a double-take and then showed me the front page of the local paper which said ‘Cyclone Tomorrow.’ I was already nervous about getting out and getting back into the States without any passport issues, and the cyclone didn’t help. I eventually got out fine, but the storm delayed my flight for 12 hours and caused a few close calls.
• On my last night in Baguio, I went to the Faces music lounge on Session Road, and heard a solid little acoustic outfit. ‘Fly Me to the Moon,’ ‘Englishman in New York,’ and the sappy yet curiously endearing ‘Somewhere Down the Road’ (Manilow) were all played. Took me a while to place the last one – hearing live acoustic music somehow can be confusing when you’ve heard other versions of a song. Anyway, I had a good time…it was the kind of place my mother would have loved, I thought of her when the Manilow song was being played.
• You really can’t quibble with the prices here. At the music lounge I paid US$5 for 3 beers, a plate of food, and the music cover. And there are far cheaper places, this was a ‘fancy’ joint I’m sure. I’m in love…

After three days in Baguio I caught a bus back to Manila, which, like Mumbai, is a ‘maximum city.’ The place is huge, crazy, and overwhelming, although the locals are friendly and helpful. I think that Pinoy hospitality is superb, people try to help you navigate the chaos of the city/country to the best of their ability.

The night I returned to Manila, I had dinner with a bunch of ex-colleagues from Monitor Group, led by David Pacis, who runs the Philippines practice. The last time I saw David was in HKG in January, for my Monitor farewell party. It was very nice to see him again, as well as his wife Cai, and ex-colleagues Tony May, Yuichiro Okano, John Wagner, and others. We had some excellent Thai food at the Greenbelt Mall, which is an absolutely awesome place full of high-end shops and restaurants, and very good-looking people. I tried not to upset the balance too much.

This entry was posted on Wednesday, July 5th, 2006 at 1:17 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.