Tuesday 22nd December 2009
I sat in one of Manila’s buses, an old jeep left by the Americans during the war, pressed close to my neighbour. It was open at the sides and the noise was deafening: shouting, horns blaring, people shouting at each other, loud music blasting out.
Eventually we left the jeep and walked, skirting around the beggars thrusting their upturned palms at me. The pavement was full of obstacles: a man asleep, puddles which I must avoid in my sandals as I could catch cholera or typhoid.
We passed the supermarket with two armed men guarding the door and crossed the road to a park. It was quieter here. We admired the yellow butterflies and shooed away the stray cats that circled round us, looking for food. We were on our way to Intramuros, the old city, where security guards wear blue cotton uniforms and pirates’ hats. Emil pointed out Fort Santiago and told me that they used to put the prisoners in the dungeon at low tide. There was no danger then, but when the sea swept in at high tide, they all drowned.
The next day, we travelled to Balanga by coach. At each stop along the way, vendors offer us peanuts, corn or fried bananas. From Balanga bus station, we went by jeepney (motorbike and covered sidecar) to Emil’s home. Health and safety does not exist here. One tricycle coming the other way carried two adults and two children on the bike itself and three adults and a couple of children inside and one person was hanging off the back. There were boxes and bags on the roof and a couple of chairs tied to the bars on the front.
Emil’s home was stark. Water came from a well in the garden. At the start of the day you must fill buckets with water for washing and to flush the toilet. There was no hot water. No curtains, cushions, pictures, ornaments or books. We ate a fish and rice dish, then went for a walk through the night market. It was full of dangers. In one place, the pavement ended suddenly and I nearly fell into the river. Later on, I just avoided bumping into food being cooked on metal grills at the side of the road.
Wednesday 23rd December 2009
Emil’s friend from the loan company threw a party for his work colleagues in one of the hotel. It is the Filipino’s idea of fun to play the music really loudly and sing at the top of their voices. If it’s out of tune, it doesn’t detract from their enjoyment. There were ten people gathered in a small room. The women drank water while the men drank beer. Towards the end of the afternoon, three bottles of ‘light’ beer were brought in for three of the ladies. The food consisted of the inevitable rice with meat and fish, with a tureen of mixed seafood, including small crabs served whole.
I had brought some crackers from England, which they had never seen. They exclaimed in delight over the hats which they had no hesitation wearing, didn’t understand why there were small gifts inside and of course could not comprehend the jokes. I brought out my magic snow, a powder which, when mixed with water, forms something that resembles snow. They really enjoyed that and had an almost childlike pleasure in watching the snow develop. At the end of the afternoon I played the piano – three Tagalog songs – while Emil sang and they were really appreciative.
Thursday 24th December 2009
Christmas Eve is the most important time in the Christmas period for a Filipino. They usually stay up all night, going to mass about 10pm then celebrating with their families. The city was really busy during the day with even more traffic than before. The hotel staff laid on their own Christmas party for staff, so the restaurant was closed after breakfast and a trainee posted on the reception desk. It was like a ghost hotel as most of the guests had gone to their families.
We went over to Emil’s place in the evening to be with his daughter and her grandson, returning to the hotel at 9; after that it would have been difficult to get any transport. The neighbourhood was quite lively, with fireworks, people sitting in their porches and music coming from the church.
Friday 25th December 2009
We bought some food and went to Emil’s house. I wanted something his daughter would really like and apparently that was a pizza! I bought half a melon roll from a cake shop, which turned out to be a sort of Swiss roll but very light in texture. We also bought some sweet and sour pork balls, crab cakes, spring rolls, bananas and melon. A strange Christmas dinner indeed!
I met Emil’s son Jess who has a good job in Manila and speaks very good English (with an American accent). We spoke of our different cultures and his job at a telecom company.
I walked down to the beach with Emil later where children were setting off fire crackers. Adults as well as children have their hand or fingers blown off doing this.
Children dropped in from time to time looking for sweets and chocolates, plus other family members who I met briefly. They were hoping for a ‘gift’ of money as well as food and were expecting quite a pay-out as the white lady was visiting.
Saturday 26th December
Today we went to a private beach at Montemar, near Bagac. It was some distance from the bus station and the only available transport from there was a jeep. There was no timetable: the driver just waited until it was full before setting off. At the resort. we were met by two security guards who checked our bags. They were looking for food as you can't take your own in.
This resort was the best place I had seen in my stay. It had two swimming pools, a tennis court (although it looked as if no-one ever played there), a children’s playground, volleyball on the beach and the grounds themselves, mainly wooded. The main difference, though, was that it was clean, litter free and the people there were quiet, with none of the bad habits seen elsewhere such as spitting. We stayed until the sun went down. The last bus back to Balanga had gone by then, so one of the men on reception took us home in his friend’s car, a much quicker and smoother ride. I couldn’t find a seat belt, although I was the only one who was bothered.
**********
My diary entry ends here. I travelled back to Manila prior to flying home on 29th and had a meal with Jess in the evening. When raw fish, squid, prawns, oysters and crabs appeared, I had a feeling I wasn’t going to survive without incident and I was right. The problem started in Amsterdam airport but luckily I got home without anything embarrassing happening, but spent the next week suffering from food poisoning.
England was in the grip on a snowstorm. My flight from Amsterdam to Bristol was cancelled, but we were diverted to Cardiff airport. It must have been the last flight before the airport closed - as we left, the lights were turned off and the doors locked. The airline had arranged for a coach to take us to Bristol and from there, a taxi took me home on treacherous roads. I was so glad to get back.
I sat in one of Manila’s buses, an old jeep left by the Americans during the war, pressed close to my neighbour. It was open at the sides and the noise was deafening: shouting, horns blaring, people shouting at each other, loud music blasting out.
Eventually we left the jeep and walked, skirting around the beggars thrusting their upturned palms at me. The pavement was full of obstacles: a man asleep, puddles which I must avoid in my sandals as I could catch cholera or typhoid.
We passed the supermarket with two armed men guarding the door and crossed the road to a park. It was quieter here. We admired the yellow butterflies and shooed away the stray cats that circled round us, looking for food. We were on our way to Intramuros, the old city, where security guards wear blue cotton uniforms and pirates’ hats. Emil pointed out Fort Santiago and told me that they used to put the prisoners in the dungeon at low tide. There was no danger then, but when the sea swept in at high tide, they all drowned.
The next day, we travelled to Balanga by coach. At each stop along the way, vendors offer us peanuts, corn or fried bananas. From Balanga bus station, we went by jeepney (motorbike and covered sidecar) to Emil’s home. Health and safety does not exist here. One tricycle coming the other way carried two adults and two children on the bike itself and three adults and a couple of children inside and one person was hanging off the back. There were boxes and bags on the roof and a couple of chairs tied to the bars on the front.
Emil’s home was stark. Water came from a well in the garden. At the start of the day you must fill buckets with water for washing and to flush the toilet. There was no hot water. No curtains, cushions, pictures, ornaments or books. We ate a fish and rice dish, then went for a walk through the night market. It was full of dangers. In one place, the pavement ended suddenly and I nearly fell into the river. Later on, I just avoided bumping into food being cooked on metal grills at the side of the road.
Wednesday 23rd December 2009
Emil’s friend from the loan company threw a party for his work colleagues in one of the hotel. It is the Filipino’s idea of fun to play the music really loudly and sing at the top of their voices. If it’s out of tune, it doesn’t detract from their enjoyment. There were ten people gathered in a small room. The women drank water while the men drank beer. Towards the end of the afternoon, three bottles of ‘light’ beer were brought in for three of the ladies. The food consisted of the inevitable rice with meat and fish, with a tureen of mixed seafood, including small crabs served whole.
I had brought some crackers from England, which they had never seen. They exclaimed in delight over the hats which they had no hesitation wearing, didn’t understand why there were small gifts inside and of course could not comprehend the jokes. I brought out my magic snow, a powder which, when mixed with water, forms something that resembles snow. They really enjoyed that and had an almost childlike pleasure in watching the snow develop. At the end of the afternoon I played the piano – three Tagalog songs – while Emil sang and they were really appreciative.
Thursday 24th December 2009
Christmas Eve is the most important time in the Christmas period for a Filipino. They usually stay up all night, going to mass about 10pm then celebrating with their families. The city was really busy during the day with even more traffic than before. The hotel staff laid on their own Christmas party for staff, so the restaurant was closed after breakfast and a trainee posted on the reception desk. It was like a ghost hotel as most of the guests had gone to their families.
We went over to Emil’s place in the evening to be with his daughter and her grandson, returning to the hotel at 9; after that it would have been difficult to get any transport. The neighbourhood was quite lively, with fireworks, people sitting in their porches and music coming from the church.
Friday 25th December 2009
We bought some food and went to Emil’s house. I wanted something his daughter would really like and apparently that was a pizza! I bought half a melon roll from a cake shop, which turned out to be a sort of Swiss roll but very light in texture. We also bought some sweet and sour pork balls, crab cakes, spring rolls, bananas and melon. A strange Christmas dinner indeed!
I met Emil’s son Jess who has a good job in Manila and speaks very good English (with an American accent). We spoke of our different cultures and his job at a telecom company.
I walked down to the beach with Emil later where children were setting off fire crackers. Adults as well as children have their hand or fingers blown off doing this.
Children dropped in from time to time looking for sweets and chocolates, plus other family members who I met briefly. They were hoping for a ‘gift’ of money as well as food and were expecting quite a pay-out as the white lady was visiting.
Saturday 26th December
Today we went to a private beach at Montemar, near Bagac. It was some distance from the bus station and the only available transport from there was a jeep. There was no timetable: the driver just waited until it was full before setting off. At the resort. we were met by two security guards who checked our bags. They were looking for food as you can't take your own in.
This resort was the best place I had seen in my stay. It had two swimming pools, a tennis court (although it looked as if no-one ever played there), a children’s playground, volleyball on the beach and the grounds themselves, mainly wooded. The main difference, though, was that it was clean, litter free and the people there were quiet, with none of the bad habits seen elsewhere such as spitting. We stayed until the sun went down. The last bus back to Balanga had gone by then, so one of the men on reception took us home in his friend’s car, a much quicker and smoother ride. I couldn’t find a seat belt, although I was the only one who was bothered.
**********
My diary entry ends here. I travelled back to Manila prior to flying home on 29th and had a meal with Jess in the evening. When raw fish, squid, prawns, oysters and crabs appeared, I had a feeling I wasn’t going to survive without incident and I was right. The problem started in Amsterdam airport but luckily I got home without anything embarrassing happening, but spent the next week suffering from food poisoning.
England was in the grip on a snowstorm. My flight from Amsterdam to Bristol was cancelled, but we were diverted to Cardiff airport. It must have been the last flight before the airport closed - as we left, the lights were turned off and the doors locked. The airline had arranged for a coach to take us to Bristol and from there, a taxi took me home on treacherous roads. I was so glad to get back.