Tuesday, December 28, 2010 Manila

I got off the Cebu Pacific plane at 4am and stepped onto Philippine [volcanic] soil of the island of Luzon!  WOO-HOO!  One, because I'm stoked to be in the Philippines, and two, because it's been 22 hours of stressful travel.  Ninoy Aquino International Airport (Manila) was pretty big and nice.  I also love the name "Ninoy", because it's their main gateway and it rhymes with "Pinoy".  Immigration was a joke, I didn't even stand in the right line or hand them my customs card.  Because it was 4am, it was dark and I figured nothing was open, so I booked some flights at the airline ticket offices in the airport.  I didn't even know people still did that.  But I booked my flights to the one and only Boracay Island!  I got some money at the ATM and the language options were "English" and "Taglish" haha.  After that I caught a cab to Intramuros (the old walled part of Manila), which was pretty dead and boring to be completely honest, there were just a bunch of government buildings and a cathedral.  I ended up eating with the cab driver at a little food shack, and got a bunch of different but tasty things over rice.  Of course the only thing I wanted to do was book a bus ticket to the Ifugao rice terraces up north which are supposedly the "Eighth wonder of the world", but when I need a tout, there aren't any.  So I took a cab to the bus station in God-knows-where, Manila.  The waiting area was literally a group of seats anchored into the ground in the open air on the pavement.  And of course, there was only 2 ticket vendors for about 100 ticket purchasers, so it took an hour to get my simple ticket... probably should have paid a travel agent, but during that time, I was able to catch up on the "History" section of the Lonely Planet: Philippines guidebook.  After that I dropped my bag in a REALLY sketchy left luggage facility (the claim ticket was a handwritten note that literally read "S/G Dulado DF, Note: Bag Black") among a bunch of boxes with rope tied around them.  When in Rome.  I took a walk down Espana street, and through some street markets, which was really fun (markets are like my favorite thing in the world, second to international airport terminals).  The foundation is the same as any other developing country; there are ramshackle stands with loud hawkers, narrow alleyways, no garbage cans, stray dogs and cats, people sitting around in the heat, and lots of languages being spoken that I can't understand.  What made it unique was that everyone was Filipino looking, there was constant honking from Jeepneys (painted colorful Jeeps with an elongated back/bed to accommodate up to 12 passengers that act as shared taxis), and everything was in English.  I walked to the Divisario area, which was a HUGE crowded, loud, bustling market selling everything from fresh fruit to wicker to belts and sandals.  Because it's so hot and humid (and believe me, it's hot and humid), it seems like everyone is just dressed as beach bums; everyone is wearing t-shirts, shorts, and sandals.  What a life!  If only our NYC was like that.  But then you get the constant exhaust fumes and smell of raw sewage and... not really worth it.  I honestly think this city might be the dirtiest I've been to.  It's all flat so there's no runoff, there is awful traffic and these cars (the Jeepneys in particular, since all the other cars are Japanese) pollute to the point where I was wiping my nose to find black snot), there are no garbage cans and people are just littering and pissing on the street, and there is stale water everywhere.  I was most struck by the quintessential "Manila Slum" photos, which are absolutely real because I took them today; where the slummy sheet metal shacks sit on stilts above brown putrid waterways, all in front of towering high-rises.  There were definitely lots of homeless, and poverty was ubiquitous in the capital; it's bound to happen in a megalopolis of 12 million.  Which is weird because everyone in the US has met a Filipino person before, as they are the world's most exported workforce, and remittances count for a large proportion of the income of the Philippines.  Veering out of that part of town known as Manila City, I took a stroll down to Rizal Park, the main square in town, with lots of little vendors and such.  That connected to Roxas Blvd (the main promenade along Manila harbor on the East China Sea).  Of course half of the Promenade was taken up by the enormous US Embassy (which occupies probably the most expensive land in all of the Philippines).  One of the reasons I was really interested in going to the Philippines was the fact that it was one of the few countries colonized by the US (so I'm curious to see how we fucked it over).  I went to Quiapo for some more small market shopping, which was a lot of fun despite me almost falling over in exhaustion since I haven't slept in 30 hours. It was so crowded, and Manila is probably the loudest city I've ever been to.  I sat down and just watched the chaotic traffic, which was crazy because it just NEVER ended; more cars came and went and came and went, and so on into eternity.  I got some lumpia, which was disappointing because it was sweet, not deep fried, and vegetarian.  I better have some good lumpia before I leave here!  I also had a plate lunch meal with fried pork, which was alright, and the best part was the bathroom (they didn't have one so they told me I could just pee on the wall [inside the restaurant].  Then I finally hit the jackpot and went to the food court, where I ate some bomb stuffed squid and halo halo for dessert.  I took the public commuter train for fun, which was actually pretty good, but only has 2 lines, neither of which connect (even though they cross one another).  It's weird because people speak English but they don't; it really is Taglish, the ATM wasn't lying.  I can definitely sense the American presence in terms of education and economy, but it's still mixed with the Spanish language/religion, and native roots.  10:45 for my bus ride couldn't come soon enough.  I passed the time by walking around the mall (basically because there was AC), and then I had to walk in the dark Manila streets while kids played with fireworks, dogs fought, men slept in their loungechairs, and families drank and watched videoke.  The bus was fine; just a normal bus filled half with tourists and half with locals.  The bus station was so busy I couldn't believe it.  Also, it was crazy watching them try and back these huge buses into the lot, right through crowds of people.

Monday, December 27, 2010 En route China to Philippines

Got into Beijing at 10:30pm.  The transfer from the Peoples' Republic of China to the Philippines couldn't go less smoothly.  Ok, so first I fly Air China SF to Shanghai (layover in Beijing), then I fly Cebu Pacific Shanghai to Manila.  Simple enough (and total it was only $1200).  However, this was the most complicated flight I've ever taken.  Here's why.  I get to Beijing, China, and of course I'm in the international terminal, good.  But, because I'm transferring to Shanghai, I have to leave the international terminal and instead go to the domestic connections.  This means actually immigrating to the Peoples' Republic of China, standing in line and all (which took 45 minutes despite their very orderly changing of the shifts of uniformed immigration officers.  And because it's the Peoples' Republic of China, everyone except North Koreans, Cubans, and Swiss people need a fucking pre-arranged visa to enter.  Of course I didn't have one and I wasn't going to pay for one so I could stay in the country for under 6 hours.  Well, as usual, I was the last one in the customs line (the janitor was like mopping the floors), and finally they gave me a transit visa (luckily I printed out my Cebu Pacific itinerary, but unluckily it was a Word text-only document).  The immigration inspectors were so efficient they forgot about me until I went back up to their desk, and they were like "Uh, so why are you still here?"  "Um, I have no idea...?  You have my passport though."  "Oh, what did the other guy say was the reason?"  "I have no idea."  "Oh, ok, you may pass."  So efficient.  Anyways, re-went through security and then was the last one to board the Beijing to Shanghai flight.  The plane was enormous, I was surprised because it is only a 2-hour flight.  But it's also a country of 1.3 billion people and is probably the most common route in that country.  Once I got to Shanghai, I had to go through China exit customs (which took 45 minutes; how hard is it to screen people LEAVING the country?) and then check into Cebu Pacific, which was half Filipinos and [oddly] half Russians.  The flight was alright, it's a bare bones budget airline and I slept the whole time.

Sunday, December 26, 2010 Flight to Asia

After a crazy Christmas night out in SF (by myself but quickly made friends with these French peeps), I woke up at 6am and packed all my stuff; I'm so good at packing that it only took me an hour and I only filled up half my carry-on.  Plus I'm planning on buying a whole suitcase worth of fake designer stuff and bringing it back [without telling US customs].  I went to my car to make sure it was still there (phewf), dropped off a set of keys at my office, in case a crazy Venezuelan tries to make out with me and then steals my keys from my hostel again.  Then I got some food at Taqueria Pancho Villa and, sadly, McDonalds.  Then I took the BART to SFO's international terminal.  I love international terminals; they are one of my favorite places in the world.  Nowhere else on earth are so cosmopolitan and diverse.  Except that the SFO one is just all Asia travel.  There was a Lufthansa flight in like 4 hours.  Security was fine.  I knew the flight was going to suck because it was only $1100 and operated by Air China, the national airline of the Peoples' Republic of China (I'm expecting for meals for them to come around with a Communist pot full of gruel).  It was a 747 which was kind of nice, except that the seat backs had no screens, and the main screen was all Chinese TV shows and car commercials, except for the movie Bounty Hunter.  I was sitting next to this 5 foot tall guy who monopolized the armrest and ate sunflower seeds the whole time, and looked like Kim Jong Il.  I'm confident in asserting that the flight was 98% Han Chinese.  The food was crappy (rice and chicken for dinner, and then rice and shrimp for lunch), and of course when we landed in Beijing 12 hours later (one of the longest flights I've ever been on), everyone was already getting up upon taxiing.