It’s early evening in Malate, after a 3-hour walk to burn off last night’s calories I filled my belly with so-so Chinese hot-and-sour pork from Chowking and wandered to one of the handful of Korean-owned Internet cafes in the neighborhood. (I am surrounded by young Koreans of both genders, mostly playing a particular shoot-em-up game played on a map with dragons, sorcerers, knights and such.)I have been corresponding with some other friends who are also traveling during the past few weeks: Richie in New Orleans, Mark in India, Kevin & Clara also in New Orleans (now moved on to Texas), Will in Ethiopia, Tony in Rome. The modern Internet’s like postcards blasting through the ether, never landing at a fixed street address. Happily, 9/11 did not bring an end to modern air travel. And I can keep my bills paid online too… 
Luis bade farewell to his father last night at the new home just set up for him in Paranaque City. It was an emotional time and I’ll leave out the details from this blog. I helped configure the new TV and we took some pictures before heading out to the Mall of Asia to buy a pair of barongs (formal Filipino shirts) and to have dinner with two of the guys from the reunion (Ferdinand and Ogie).
The famous Filipino up-sell happened at the dinner table: about 7 or 8 dishes materialized, turning our dinner for 4 into a huge buffet, and none of us bothered inquiring why we were served more than we ordered–we got our own private buffet. (But don’t worry, the bill included these extra items!) No matter, two hours went by, then three, then four, and finally I had to point out around 12:20am that there were only a couple other tables still occupied and that we probably ought to get some sleep! I think Luis will always be greatful that he had these friends, who were very close to him back in the 1970s, to be with at this time in our lives. Maybe they will be close once again.
This morning we sorted through our belongings, had a leisurely coffee, stopped by the guest house to request a room down-grade for me, and we hailed a taxi to Makati City to meet up with sister Bess and friend John. Naturally I found food in front of me! (Take a look at Luis’ food diary entry–he’s been keeping close track!) John took a long time getting to our rendezvous; we’d been told to get to the airport 3 hours before flight time, our taxi made it there about 2.5 hours beforehand. Luis and I said goodbye, and then I got a second-chance goodbye when he was sent back outside 20 minutes later to the ticket office by an officious bureaucrat who pointed out a discrepancy on his airline ticket. (We had changed the date of his ticket, and the ticket was not reissued but attached to some other document. When I change mine I will attempt to get it completely reissued.)
Today was a muggy day in Manila and there isn’t anything to explore at Aquino airport unless you’re holding a ticket. So I grabbed a cab back to Malate. This driver asked me for 150 pesos, I told him I’d pay the meter price, tapos (and then) he said he’d do it for 120 – that was an OK price, about 20% higher than the normal fare+tip. The part of me that automatically seeks the best price for things finds itself bumping against the part of me that empathizes with the plight of the underpaid workers here.
My original plan for the day was to get together with one of my local contacts here, but he wasn’t feeling well so we rescheduled that for tomorrow.
Alone in Manila. Big capital city. Daming taol (so many people)! During my walk on the Baywalk and through the Remedios area I saw one curious thing: A small crowd on the sidewalk outside Bed and the Rainbow Project were looking up, drawing my eye to the sight of a young man 10 meters in the air, pruning fronds from a coconut palm. (My Florida grandfather taught me to prune these back when I was young. But he never taught me to shimmy up a tree, barefoot, well beyond the reach of most pruning saws!) A couple other guys collected 4 or 5 ripe coconuts he’d passed down.
I got a suggestion from another local contact to engage him as a guide to see Baguio. We will talk about that tomorrow.
A few of my friends who are reading this have reminded me to be on the lookout for problems, presumably some type of crime. The only real concern I have about crime in the modern world is violence or kidnapping, which has become a problem in some places. Violence appears to be worse back in Boston than it is here, judging from what I’ve seen and read so far. Last year I worked in a Boston neighborhood where at least 6 or 8 gunshot incidents happened within a half-mile of my office in a 3-month period. Guns are everywhere here, but so far I’ve only seen them in the holsters of security personnel. One of Luis’ cousins pointed out a wall that had been erected next to his college campus after a bank robbery shoot-out sometime last decade.
Two kindly souls stopped me on the street a little while ago and gave me helpful tips on tourism here. The first told me that the ladies on offer at most of the pubs here are actually ladyboys (his assumption that I wouldn’t be interested was accurate enough, but for very different reasons–I like my guys a bit more buff!) The second noted that I was walking on the sidewalk, looking up at all the tall buildings, and suggested that it’d be safer to walk out on the street. I took his advice with a bit of a grain of salt, given the tendency for jeepneys jockeying for riders to pass within centimeters of parked cars on each side.
For what it’s worth I’ve always looked up at all the tall buildings! I love the great cities of the world. Alas I was born too late to be part of the great era of city-building in the USA, I should’ve been a civil or structural engineer.
Well it’s time to resume my walk. If you get tired of my blog, here’s a link to our friend Kevin and Clara’s Motorcycle Moments.