Graffiti in Intramuros

I love you too Anna, whoever you are.

Makati

Continued from Arriving in Pasay City

11/1/2010 Monday

Makati

I have noticed that the Philippines has a funny way of naming things. Take for example the word “village”. You’d expect to find stilt houses and coconut trees with free-range chicken and barefoot children running around in a village. But not in Legazpi village. Here, the stilt houses have been replaced by condominiums and the coconut trees are made from plastic. The chickens are found in KFC (crispy or original?) and children walk around in tiny Jimmy Choos.

Legazpi village is a “village” right in the Central Business District (CBD) in Makati City. That’s where my new-found friend, Hero’s, friend’s apartment was located. This area was quite different from where we just came from. The roads were quiet and there were no noisy and smoke-belching vehicles taking up every inch of the road. It was like we had entered another world – the world of the rich. According to Hero, jeepneys are banned from entering this area. The taxi driver had dropped us off right at the entrance of the apartment building. Standing guard outside the apartment were a few security guards. Not the everybody-can-masuk, close-one-eye security guards that you find in Malaysia, but real security guards with real guns.

The guards recognized Hero, but we still had to register our names. I looked around. There was a gym and a laundry room on the ground floor and a convenience store just next door. Hero’s friend’s unit was on the 21^st floor and we were going to spend the night there.

At this point, you probably have a lot of questions, so let me interrupt the above paragraph to answer you. What kind of person invites a total stranger that he has just met to stay for the night, right? And what kind of naïve person accepts an invitation from a stranger to stay at his house? Let’s get one thing straight. Two things, actually. He’s straight, and I’m straight. I wasn’t afraid because he seemed like a good guy. I know, looks can be deceiving. But what was he going to do? Kidnap me? Ha Ha. Don’t be silly. Kidnappings don’t happen in the Philippines. They happen in Somalia. Besides, I could protect myself. I am a highly-trained professional tour guide. In case you didn’t know, self-defence is part of our course syllabus in tour guide school. If our tour group gets attacked by terrorists, we have to do a Rambo and rescue them or die doing so. More importantly, I was hoping that his female model and actress friends would drop by for a visit and do an “Edison Chen”. That alone, outweighs all worries. To summarize, Hero was just being kind and I wanted to be Edison. End of point.

The apartment unit wasn’t very spacious, only about 500 square feet with two rooms and a bathroom, but the rental was about 37,000 pesos (RM2700). For that kind of money, I would want a penthouse. But I guess they have to pay for the guns and bullets somehow. From the glass window, I could look out at the other skyscrapers around us. Most of the buildings still had their lights on and Hero explained that many offices remain open till the early hours of the morning because outside of India, Manila is the largest call centre in the world.

We went for a walk later. It was past 9pm and the shops were closed but they were all guarded by real security guards with real guns. After turning a few corners, we reached an area called Greenbelt Mall. The mall was closed, but the restaurants and open-air cafes were still open and surprisingly, full of people. Not just people, but beautiful people. It was 10pm on a Monday night, and the cafes were filled with beautiful people. All my preconceptions of the Philippines as the sick man of Asia were smashed and broken into a thousand pieces, ready to be blown away by the typhoons that hit this country every so often. Makati was no different than Singapore or KL.

Slums and Skyscrapers

Click on photo for bigger view.

The contrast between the slums in Manila and the skyscrapers in Makati.

Live more

I feel great today. Got everything organized. Actually, not so much organized than usual, but rather, the realization that everything doesn’t have to be perfect for life to go ahead. Beginning from today, I will live more instead of planning to live more.

Halo Halo

Philippines’ version of Malaysia’s ice kacang. Halo is a Tagalog word meaning “mix”. So Halo Halo is a mix mix of various ingredients including red bean, purple yam, custard, corn flakes, banana, jellies and other unidentifiable stuff. Very good! (But I still prefer ice kacang).

This halo halo was sold in Chow King.

Arriving in Pasay City

11/1/2010

Not having been to the Philippines before, I really didn’t know what to expect. Although with the huge number of Filipino immigrants working in KK, I thought that KK is probably a little like Manila. I couldn’t be more wrong.

Even at this early point of my trip, I got a glimpse of the huge disparity between the rich and the poor in this country. The highway heading to Manila was comparable to the highways in Kuala Lumpur, the only difference being that in the Philippines, there were people living under the overpass. Giant billboards were put up beside the highways and the nearer we got to the city, the more there were. Even in KL, Malaysia’s capital and largest city, there is nothing like this. This looked more like a city in America.

The Philippines is of course heavily influenced by the US, being under their rule for about 50 years. You wouldn’t think that our colonial masters would leave such a big impression on a country’s characteristics, but it does. Malaysia, Singapore, Brunei and the Philippines are neighbours, but while the first three countries seem organized and proper, like the proverbial British gentleman, the Philippines seems a bit wild and free.

We had arrived right in the middle of rush hour. The cars, buses, jeepneys, bikes and other forms of transportation jostled for space on the roads, everyone using their car horns for maximum effect. It was noisy and chaotic. And we weren’t even in Manila yet. The bus stopped first at Cubao, where everyone else got off, leaving only me and Hero on the bus. Then it turned into a back lane, probably to find a way past the jam, but promptly got entangled in the low cables hanging over the road.

After what seemed like another 30 minutes, the bus finally stopped at Pasay City. I think it was not six yet, but the sky was already dark. More than ever, I was glad that I met Hero. I really didn’t know where I was or how I was going to find a place to stay.

Pasay City borders Manila and the largest shopping mall in the Philippines and fourth largest in the world is located here. The Coconut Palace and Cultural Centre are tourist attractions that are located in Pasay. But at that point in time, my only image of Pasay was that of a dirty, rundown part of town. It was like Pudu in KL, only much worse. I don’t know why, but if you google Pasay City, one of the images that will turn up is the boobs of a woman driving a car. And if my description leaves you with an image of a woman’s breasts somehow doing the driving, let me clarify again. The woman was driving the car. The boobs were not driving anything, except maybe a man’s desire. Just in case they have removed that image, and for the benefit of my male readers, I have reproduced the image here.

Hero’s friend’s apartment is located in Makati. There is a LRT from Pasay to Makati, but we were told that luggage is not allowed on the LRT. The pretty counter staff at the airport (remember her?) had told us that. She also told us that a taxi to Makati costs 100 pesos. But apparently not during rush hour because the taxi driver at the bus terminal wanted 200 pesos. We decided to search for another taxi. In the meantime, my stomach was growling so we had dinner at Jollybee, the Filipino equivalent of McDonald’s. As I was slurping down the delicious noodle soup, a cute beggar girl knocked on the glass window from the other side and put out her hand for a bit of this tourist’s generosity, which unfortunately for her, this tourist had none.

After that, we boarded another taxi. It still cost us 200 pesos, but this time, we paid up.

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Manila, it rhymes with vanilla

As you might remember if you’ve been religiously following my blog (and if not, why not?), I went to Manila about two weeks ago. It was a very short trip, only four days and three nights, but I now have enough material to write a (very thin) book about Manila. Like all travel stories, it starts at the airport…

11/1/2010

It must have been around half past three when the plane touched down at Clark Airport. I didn’t have a watch, but there were no delay announcements and it takes about two hours to fly from Kota Kinabalu to Clark. The flight was not very full and I had three seats all to myself. Considering that my ticket only costs RM35, that works out to about RM11.67 per seat. My lunch at KFC earlier in the day had cost more! With no fat person occupying my arm rest and noisy baby disturbing the peace, I had dozed off comfortably soon after take-off.

That wasn’t supposed to happen. I was supposed to use the two hours in the plane to read up about Manila. As it was, the only thing that I knew about Manila was that it rhymes with vanilla.

It is sometimes more fun not knowing about a place that you are going to. Then you will have no expectations and everything you see will be a surprise. Of course there is a risk that you might miss something magnificent. Like going to Siem Reap and not seeing Angkor Wat. (Angkor What? I didn’t see that!). Manila has no Angkor Wats or something similarly grandiose in nature. But it’s still not a good idea to just go there without any preparations, especially if you are arriving at night. The least you should do is to get one night’s accommodation. Arriving in chaotic Manila at night and trying to find accommodation then would give the most seasoned traveller goose bumps.

Then there is the issue of safety. It is always good to find out about the dangers that lurk in an unfamiliar destination. My friends who have been to Manila warned me that it would be unlike any of the other places that I have been to before, that it would be dangerous for me to go wandering off by myself like I usually do. Because I could get kidnapped. And they said it in italics to emphasize the point.

I don’t know. It wasn’t like I was going to go and meet up with Abu Sayyaf, the Muslim terrorist group from the South of the archipelago notorious for kidnapping tourists. They gained fame in Malaysia 10 years ago, when they kidnapped 21 foreign tourists and resort workers from Sabah’s diving resort of Sipadan Island. A year later, they raided another luxury resort in the Western Philippines, and as recently as last year, 3 Red Cross workers were kidnapped in Jolo. ² But most of the kidnappings happened in the lawless south islands. To say that it’s dangerous to go to Manila would be like saying it is dangerous to go to California because there are drug lords in Mexico.

The terrorists do not monopolize the kidnappings though. More commonly, kidnappings are done by organized crimes for monetary purposes. Kidnapping rich Chinese Filipinos happens to be a fun pastime in Manila.

“I’m bored. Want to go and kidnap some Chinese?”

“Sure, I could use a few million pesos to treat my girlfriend to a nice dinner.”

Rumours that the police and army are behind many of the kidnappings have left the victims’ families reluctant to report the crimes and they pay up silently anything from 10 to 50 million pesos. Sometimes, even a failed kidnapping can result in payment as the fumbling kidnappers threaten to do it again if they don’t pay up. ³

I wasn’t too worried about being kidnapped though. Of all the Chinese people in the world, the kidnappers would have to be pretty unlucky to choose me. I have no money, and I am not pretty enough to work as a hostess in a bar. They could theoretically put me to work in a gigolo strip club. But I can’t think of anyone who would want to pay money to watch me strip. Not unless they like bones. In which case, they could just kidnap a skeleton from the local school’s science lab instead of going through all the trouble to kidnap me.

Just in case, I practised a few moves in front of a mirror at home. If they are going to make me a stripper, I should at least try to be good at it. Maybe they could put me to work in a gigolo strip club for the blind. That could work.

But I digress. Clark Airport was not very big. Formerly, a part of the American air base until the nearby Pinatubo volcanic eruption in 1991 forced its closure, the government has plans to turn it into Manila’s premier airport when the current airport near Manila reaches its maximum capacity. At the moment though, only a few budget airlines like Air Asia and Tiger Airways uses the airport as it is inconveniently located about 85km away from Manila and takes about one and a half to two hours to reach the city from the airport.

Fortunately, there are bus and taxi companies that take you from Clark Airport to Manila. You don’t have to worry about not knowing where they are. They were all over me like vultures as soon as I got past immigration. The shuttle buses are cheaper, but a taxi would take you directly to where you want to go.

I didn’t know where I wanted to go anyway, so I took the shuttle bus. There were two companies to choose from. Luckily, I was very experienced in stuff like these. Using all my years of experience in travelling, I decided on the company with the prettier counter staff. The pretty Filipino girl asked me whether I wanted to go to Pasay or Cubao. I told her that she was very pretty and I would go wherever she goes. No, not really. I said I didn’t know, but I wanted to go to Manila. So she said that I should go to Pasay City, which was nearer to Manila.

I got on the shuttle bus and waited for the other passengers. Most of the Filipinos chose the other shuttle bus and there were only a few passengers in my bus. Sitting in front of me was another Malaysian. He was a tall and handsome young man called Hero. I later found out that he was also a model and an actor. You’d think I was making this up, but I am not. Hero was very friendly and he chatted with me for a while. When he found out that I had not made any hotel reservations for the night, he offered his friend’s apartment to me. I gratefully accepted and with the first night’s worry out of my mind, I relaxed and enjoyed the scenery.

² http://www.welt.de/english-news/article3029861/Red-Cross-workers-kidnapped-in-Philippines.html

³ http://www.nytimes.com/1996/03/17/world/kidnapping-of-ethnic-chinese-rises-in-philippines.html?pagewanted=2

Metro Manila is the administrative region encompassing Manila City and 16 other cities and municipalities that surround it. Pasay City is one of the cities that make up Metro Manila, while Cubao is further up north in Quezon City. Most tourists either stay in Manila City itself or in Makati City, both of which can be reached easily by taxi from Pasay City. From Clark Airport, the bus stops first at Cubao before going to Pasay. The bus ticket costs 350 pesos.