random thoughts and general nonsense from three first-generation-Australian Chinese-Filipino sisters on their first trip to the Philippines
_ Somebody got diarrhoea after eating the Chopsui from Chow-King (a chinese fast-food chain).
There is only one thing more dangerous than driving in the Philippines: crossing the road as a pedestrian. This is one country where the green man DOES NOT necessarily mean ‘go’.
Traffic here is like nothing I have ever experienced before. If Sydney traffic is 3D, traffic in metro-Manila is closer to 67D. Everyone here is a rally-car driver, from my Uncle John in his tarago to my Aunty Yvone whose hand is permanently poised over the horn. To drive in Manila you have to have lightning-fast reflexes and nerves of steel. And two extra hours up your sleeve when there is nothing to do but wait it out.
The thing about Manila is that there ARE road rules, but if you choose to follow them, you will probably be the only one and you will still be stuck at the same intersection twenty-three years from now.
Lane lines might as well not be painted (and in some places, they haven’t bothered) because nobody pays them any mind. People weave in and out as the opportunity presents itself or just on a whim. They don’t signal either because, as my Uncle John explained, if you warn people before-hand, they won’t give way to you.
Tail-gating is a necessity if you want to get anywhere today; leaving a 1 m gap between you and the arse of the car in front is just daring a jeepny driver to try and squeeze through it. Queuing across intersections is mandatory and squeezing around those queued cars is expected.
Seat belts are still just a suggestion and a car is allowed to carry as many people as you can fit in it (our record so far is 11). Being a very fair people, Philos don’t give ambulances any preferential treatment and they are expected to wait their turn like everyone else. I’m not criticising, I’m just saying you should probably try not to have a coronary during peak hour. Throw in some more jeepnys, taxis, a handful of pedi-cabs (bicycle/motorcycle driven ‘taxi’) and calesas (small carriage pulled by seriously tiny horse) and you have a bit of a gridlock problem.
Now go ahead and add children and beggars who weave in and out tapping on car windows, hawkers selling everything from peanuts to towels and pedestrians who take their lives into their own hands every time they step off the curb. Fill the air with the exhaust of thousands of un-roadworthy vehicles and a symphony of honking horns and you have Manila traffic at its finest.
That being said, the sixty-seventh dimension has its high points. As it is a given to everyone who lives here that traffic will ALWAYS be bad and no one will EVER follow the rules, I am yet to see a single case of road rage. Even when it takes close to two hours to travel 14 km, Philos manage to keep their cool. I suppose when you don’t expect courtesy from other drivers, you’re never taken by surprise when someone cuts you off.
Then again, any country that has a term for driving straight into oncoming traffic (it’s called counter-flow) could probably do with a little more structure.
Like a friend said yesterday, Life’s more fun in the Philippines.
If I could summarise the Philippine leg of the journey into five words they would be: 1. Meeting; 2. Eating 3. Deep Fried 4. Eating and 5. Carbs. I am well on my way to reaching critical mass and would not be surprised if they made me buy an extra seat on the plane home. I see elasticised pants in my near future.
To be clear, while Philo cuisine is not all bad for you, it has also showed me how closed-minded I have been when it comes to what can or cannot be deep fried. A whole pork-knuckle, perhaps? Or why not an entire fish? The possibilities are endless.
Oh. And we mustn’t forget desserts. It would seem that the Philippines as a country is big on desserts. Every second shop is a bakery with little sweet treats for you to nibble on and the shops in between them sell all manner of glutinous rice desserts with sugary toppings or pandan jelly with fresh coconut or tapioca pearls and coconut milk. My self-control doesn’t get good reception in the northern hemisphere.
And then there is the fact that we are in the ‘ppines primarily to meet people - extended family, my mum’s high-school friends or former students of my grandparents. It must be a trait of Chinese communities around the world that we cannot meet unless we are also eating. Eating out at a Chinese restaurant starts to get pretty old after the 6th night in a week.
I am stuck in a mire of saturated fats and I’m sinking fast. Like miners who used canaries to gauge the deterioration of air quality, so I use my feelings towards ensaymadas as a guide of how far along the road to Type II diabetes I am. Ensaymadas are sweet brioche type rolls coated with sugar and topped with *drum-roll* tasty cheese. The first time I saw one I was like “eew, that’s revolting.” Suffice to say I’ve started eating them for breakfast.
By the time we leave in another week my digestive system will probably weep with joy.
_ Tabitha
_
Food here is so incredibly different. It’s kind of nice having an entire menu where I don’t recognise anything on it (partly because it’s all in Tagalog). Here is a Green Mango Shake!! Surprisingly very good. It has the tang of sourness you get with orange juice but like…it tastes like mangos…
They have this amazing fast food chain called Jollibee. Not only is the name awesome and the mascot this cute bee with a chef’s hat, wicked artificially colored floats (or spider drinks) but they have a HASHBROWN BURGER.
Yes I tried it.
Yes, I regretted it.
But I would have regretted it for eternity if I didn’t try it.
Un-photoshoped and un-instagram filtered everybody! Just Creation + Renee’s old Pentax + the Bay outside out window (Manila Bay) after a shower. Woot! Also shots of Philippines’ famous traffic.
I like unexpected story times, and I got one whilst having a massage at Mall of Asia (apparently one of the biggest in the Southern Hemisphere but it definitely had the SMALLEST number of places for a bargain, small enough to say there was THE LEAST amount of discounts in the Southern Hemisphere, end rant.)
My first time having a massage and as a vis com student I’ve spent six months as a hunchback at my computer so I thought I could do with a straightening out. the massage room for far too quiet when its just me and massager-person-lady (okay I don’t know how to spell ‘MA-SOOS’) so I strike up conversation.
Read More ...Yea, I hate to admit it, but I was a little culture shocked. Everyone likes to think they can handle it (sometimes they can) but it takes a little to admit you were scared and unprepared and disturbed by what you see on the streets of another country.
I’ve spent most of my time overseas in pretty nice places like Japan and Hong Kong where the society and the street culture was more like home- upbeat and cosmopolitan and clean (ish- apart from the sewer smell and spit on the streets of HK). I’ve been privileged as well to spend some time on the main island of Fiji where things are less refined and you get used to getting dusty feet and meeting strangers.
Yea Philo is a little different, at least in the area we are in. The people living in nature strips and babies, who back home should be dressed in pretty dresses or cute colorful onesies that have hoods and bear-ears stitched on, instead sleeping exposed in the humidity on cardboard beds outside the 7/11.
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