From Madras to Manila

The perfect storm - Milenyo

2006-11-01T18:15:00.000+08:00

Wow. We witnessed one huge storm in end-September.
The day started out promising to be yet another uneventful day when my carpool would be reluctantly heading towards work. It was the kind of morning that promised to be completely boring – overcast skies, hint of rain every now and then.

So we set off, the first sign that something was amiss that there was ABSOLUTELY no traffic on the roads. That at 8:30 in the morning is IMPOSSIBLE in Makati !
Then we found out all schools and government offices had been called off because of an impending storm. So in anticipation, we excitedly called our bosses. No such luck, troop in to work, we were told.

We got to know that the eye of the storm would pass directly over Manila at 11 am. At 11:15 the power conked out. From 12-1:30 we saw the fury of Mother Nature.

Standing in our 16th floor office, we could feel the building sway as wind speeds hit 130 kmph. It was crazy. Huge hoardings across the street started to fall. Trees started dropping like nine pins crushing cars in the parking lot opposite our building. We actually saw asbestos sheets being tossed around – and the best part, the wind was SO strong that the sheet never fell on the ground – it just was swept away (I know I know , it eventually fell) I have never seen anything like this. Except when they cover Florida hurricanes on TV!

We were now panicking and then the next rumor started.
That Manila would begin flooding. Anyone who has lived any length of time in Manila will know that even a slight drizzle causes traffic to come to a standstill.

We weren’t taking chances, we decided to go home at 2pm.
It took us 3 hours to get home that day. Driving on C-5, we felt like we were on the sets of ‘The day after tomorrow’. Empty roads, flooded in many parts. Fallen trees and hoardings blocking our path

It was scary.

Got home to discover that we had left a few windows open and the place was flooded. Amit got home earlier so he had got to do the mopping :-)

Manila didnt have power for 3 days but luckily we had a generator in our condo. People who lived in villages (Alabang, Dasma, Forbes park) weren’t so lucky – they had no water or electricity for a full 3 days…..

Not my best memory of Manila.

Puerto Princessa Part 3: Sabang Underground River

2006-08-07T20:54:00.000+08:00

Looks spooky, doesn't it? The Sabang river 'cruise' is an eerie, though fascinating, 1.5 km journey through the bowels of a mountain that is on the UNESCO World Heritage list for being the longest navigable underground river.

[I am of course referring to the river, not the mountain. It would be rather silly of UNESCO to list a mountain as the longest navigable underground river]

The actual river goes on for another 6-7 km beyond the end point of the cruise but you need a permit, exceptional intestinal fortitude and a rather poor sense of smell to go on. And, oh yes, you'll need to shed the boat and a few extra kilos off your waist or else you'll just get stuck up an orifice - and being stuck in an orifice in any sort of bowel, even a mountain's, is probably not a good thing. That's probably why you need a permit in the first place.

This is where it first hits you - the cave is darrrrrk!
And full of bats.

And it stinks to kingdom come. Like the collective farts of a million bats that subsist almost entirely on bugs and rotting carcasses and go entire lifetimes shunning sunlight and any sort of fresh air.

Which is, of course, exactly what you are smelling.

[The bats apparently live on fruit, but I'm not buying that story. Where would the fruit grow in the cave, for pete's sake?]

Artist's rendition of the woosiness you feel when taking in your first whiff of eau d' bat.

Puerto Princessa Part 2: Snake Island

2006-08-07T20:14:00.000+08:00

I like sepia - it makes the worst pictures look classy!

Noble sentiments
Underlined by the two bottles carefully placed under the sign by the last reader

The star attraction!
We finally got to see a couple!

Leave nothing but footprints...

Puerto Princessa - Part 1

2006-08-07T19:12:00.000+08:00

As with most of our posts, this is another long-overdue one, an account of our now-not-so-recent visit to Puerto Princessa, Palawan in late June.

The trip was conceived ages back when we took advantage of an unbelievable Cebu Pacific offer of 20 pesos for return airfare from Manila to Puerto Princessa.

Palawan, more famous for the pricey, but divine, resorts in El Nido, is yet another Filipino feast for the senses, with stunning beaches, endless opportunities for snorkeling and diving and light-green seascapes stretching as far as the eye can see. Puerto Princessa, the main city, is a great place to visit for tourists on a budget.
------------

We stayed at a charming and friendly resort (little more than a B&B really), located conveniently near the airport and just off the main road of the city, a not-very-unusual location, it turned out, as the city basically consists of a main road with houses on either side and wilderness immediately beyond, making it quite possible for your living room to have a zip code and running water and your bedrooms to be outside city limits.

Near our little hotel were a number of karaoke places, one of which was closed down by a municipal ordinance on account of an hour-long medley of duets at 11 pm by visiting Indian tourists - I'm not saying who - and, what was more important, a row of absolutely super handicrafts shops of which one had really great stuff for very, VERY low prices!

But of course you want to see Palawan... well, here goes...

Starfish Island
No starfish... but what an island!

We were the only ones there at that time, and spent about half an hour there soaking in the beauty of the place and looking for the hundreds of starfish we had been promised before it began to rain and we began to soak in some rather unpleasantly cold rainwater that made us shrivel up like prunes before we made a beeline for the boat.

View from banca en route to Sabang underground river, a UNESCO heritage site

It was around this time that my camera case was falling into the water with our MP3 player and most of our cash. The same was retrieved by intrepid soul in next banca and handed over with cash intact and soul of MP3 player having ascended to the heavens, leaving only the earthly remains for us to weep salt tears over (like that would be a patch on the quart or so of brine it had taken in before expiring)

Fanaa, Noritake, a Wedding Anniversary and Acute Homesickness!

2006-06-24T17:46:00.000+08:00

Last Sunday was our 3rd wedding anniversary. We celebrated it by watching a tragic love story (Fanaa) and having dinner with friends. We got ourselves a lovely Noritake crockery set to celebrate the occasion.

I don’t eat off it, I just stare at all that lovely China. Of course, I can’t cook very much so there isn’t much we can eat off our China anyway.

Hmm, what was that again about romance & time spent together being inversely proportional?:-)

Anyway, back to the movie. For all my-not-familiar-with-Hindi movie friends, Fanaa is a typical Hindi movie. Girl is blind. Falls in love with a flirt who shamelessly woos her. Many dances in the rain later, they end up spending a wild night of passion together(in older Hindi movies, it would happen because the girl would be freezing to death and the hero would have to set her on fire to keep her warm&alive :-) No kidding, really!) Hero prays that heroine should be able to see, and lo & behold, one short operation later, the girl is no longer blind! And then there was light!

Or not. Slight twist in the tale - the hero is actually a terrorist who vamooses after this, regretfully leaving behind the one love of his life without knowing that their one night of passion was an immensely fruitful one….

Get the drift? Rest of the movie is about how love triumphs over evil. But Aamir Khan was gorgeous in the second half and Kajol is still a terrific actress and I loved every, every predictable shot.

I had this huge lump in my throat when they showed Delhi in all its glory in the first few scenes of the movie. I miss India, its sounds, smells, familiar faces…..I miss predictable movies & hunky heros & all the singin’ in the rain we Indians are so good at…

Happy Weekend Folks. I'm gonna watch another Hindi movie this weekend:-)

Lies, all lies!

2006-06-17T17:56:00.000+08:00

Hi there, violently protest about the being lazy part. My sister met with a really bad accident in LA & I was with her almost all of May. She is getting better, albeit very slowly:-( We are terribly shaken but very very grateful that she is alive & out of the hospital now…

Have not really wanted to write anything much since then…

UNTIL NOW

If I weren’t married to Amit, I’d sue him for defamation & scurrilous lies. All of them, lies. (Only can’t sue coz it will be our joint account funding Amit’s lawyers. Not good)

I admit I was a little scared, but just a tad. Tell me, wouldn’t you be if you were in a SMALL banca (a very small boat), just enough for 4 people to crawl into, and you were attempting to cross a big stretch of the ocean?? Plus, there is no other boat for miles in sight, and the boatman’s preferred style of navigation is to beam a flashlight that barely reaches a meter into the sea. Worse, the ride is like 45 minutes long to get into the mangrove where the firefly cruise actually begins, and all you have for company till then are the giant 50ft long whale sharks, which as you would have realized from Amit’s post, have this habit of popping to surface ever so often, toppling little Bancas that stand in their way.

SO as I said, I was just a little scared. Not anywhere close to being astral-travel-scared.

But seriously, the firefly cruise was awesome once I began to sight other boats and knew we were not alone in the universe (30 minutes in of paddling about in a pitch dark expanse of sea can spook you). It is something else – citydweller that I am, to watch a sky filled with stars, all jostling for space and sighting news ones that appear every minute. It was humbling and so very beautiful.

So on the way back, I just fixed my fears. Got the boatman to follow other boats heading back the same way so we were never alone. Gazed at the stars, played with the phosphoresent water, switched on my iPod and blocked Amits comments about scary whales & toppled bancas out.

It was perfect.

Night of Liquid Fire

2006-06-17T16:40:00.000+08:00

Sandi has been lazy and is refusing to write so thought would put in my bit on the night-time firefly cruise we went for after whale-watching. It's a 2-hr experience where you get taken out across the sea to a river mouth where you have these hundreds of fireflies that congregate on three trees and convert them into arresting, Vegas-style flashing displays that are quite out of this world!

We set out for the cruise in a little boat at around 7:30 pm, well after it was dark. The ride over to the firefly site was quite surreal - complete and utter silence, an inky-black sky dotted with a gazillion stars and the soft swoosh of the boatsmen's oars as we made our way, gently rocked by the waves ...

...and Sandi clinging to my arm and shaking in her boots completely spooked out by the darkness and the all-enveloping sense that we were the only living beings for about a thousand miles that did not sport gills and didn't have the common sense to stay on dry land rather than taking to the ocean in a bathtub - a sense that she communicated to me in urgent and insistent whispers that increased in volume till she frightened the boatmen who thought they were hearing voices from the deep and gave themselves up to rowing furiously for land.

And, oh, the phosphoresence! Liquid fire!! With every stroke, every ripple and every leaping fish, the sea comes alive in shimmering green and the boat leaves a vivid, flourescent trail behind it. If there ever was a time when I felt one with the universe, this was it.

Sandi, too, was feeling one with the Universe, as her soul had, by then, departed her body and was at that point roaming free and thinking positive thoughts or whatever it is that recently departed souls do while hovering over the Boat of Darkness as it made its way inexorably to the Isles of Doom.

I was, I admit, rather disappointed when we finally reached the banks and made our way up the river towards the firefly trees where Sandi's soul decided it was safe to make its way back to its earthly form and she perked up and played with fireflies for the rest of the evening before we started back for the resort.

"Look," I said,"crocodiles!" and sent her soul scurrying for cover as we made our silent journey to shore, to safety and back into the real world.

Pity.

Big Fish!

2006-05-14T11:26:00.000+08:00

We first learnt about the butanding from Kate's blog and were instantly captivated by the idea of swimming with the biggest fish in the sea. The best season is only from Feb to early May and we made a a spur-of the moment decision to go in end April, booking full-fare tickets to Legazpi and somehow managing some last-minute acco in Donsol just a couple of days before we left.

Booking acco is a lot harder than it appears, as there is only one landline in Donsol and most people make do with cell phones which seem to be almost permanently outside the coverage area. There is of course no internet and other connectivity either and hence reservations are made manually (our resort used a blackboard!) and the entire thing is a rather hit-and-miss affair.

But it was a decision well-taken. Swimming with the whale sharks has definitely been a highlight of our life and easily one of the top three experiences we have shared together (the others would possibly be soaking in the panorama of the French Alps from the top of Mt. Blanc and spending happy hours listening to music at St. Marks' Square in Venice)

To Legazpi

We took the Air Philippines flight to Legazpi, which is the capital of Bicol province and the closest airport to Donsol. It is also the home of the Mayon volcano, of which we have already written. The terminal building is a quaint little garage-sized unit that has the mandatory bird-flu foot bath, a superb view of the volcano, and little else - not even a conveyor belt for the baggage!

On to Donsol

From the airport you have a choice of regular taxis (can be bargained down to 700-800 pesos) and air-conditioned vans (shared, at about 60 pesos a head). Having done little research before coming, we made the mistake of taking a taxi and spending way more than required.

The ride itself is a little over an hour on decent roads till you actually reach Donsol town, where the taxi will ask you to alight and continue on with a tricycle (no, it's not what you are picturing - it's a motorbike with a covered side car and will take perhaps 40 pesos). You need not do this, as the road onwards is just about wide enough to accommodate a taxi. It was being widened when we went so I guess it would be even better in a few months.

The Woodlands Resort

Last-minute begging and pleading by Sandi helped us get a non-aircon room (800 pesos) at the Woodlands Resort, a comfortable and friendly place with cheap and good food, though not very upmarket. Don't land up expecting a pool with jacuzzi please!! The only luxury was an outdoor hammock that was almost permanently occupied.

The weather was pleasant - at least for Indians - and we felt no need for an aircon, the pedestal fan being enough to keep us quite cool. Aircon rooms are larger, with a sitout and come for about 1500 pesos. There is little scope for negotiation in season and anyway you're usually thankful that you have a reservation at all, given the hi-tech nature of the process.

One of the plus points of staying at Woodlands is that you are within a short walk of the Tourist Office which is where you need to go to register and get a boat to go see the whale sharks. And if you are a diver, there's Prosafari, a diving service provider situated on the Woodlands premises.

Another good option is to stay at Vitton, which looks a shade better and is situated right next to the Tourist Office.

Registration at the Tourist Office

OK, now this is the part that could make or break your trip so pay attention. The system has been carefully designed and tuned to perfection to ensure that is the most illogical and unreasonable process known to man. If there was a perfect example of how to take a simple thing and make it into a tangled weave of uncertainty and confusion, this is it.

Everyone (foreigners and Filipinos alike) has to register at the tourist office before they can have a shot at the Butanding. Registration is a nominal 100 pesos for locals and 300 for foreign nationals. The boat with crew, BIO (our guide, the Butanding Interaction Officer) and spotter comes for 3,500 pesos and can carry up to seven people.

You fill out a form with your details and get assigned a boat number. If you are few, try to team up with others (you'll find many people at the office who would be glad to share) to reduce your costs per head.

And then boat numbers are called as they are available and the respective groups make their way to their boats and spend a happy morning frolicking with the sharks. Right?

Wrong!

The Tourist Office seems to operate under the assumption that the number assignments are a basis for further negotiation. In other words, it only entitles you to participate in a raffle, as it were. Thanks to the efforts of a zealous lady who is assigned to sort out your forms and put them 'in order', the numbers are called out like in American football, "36, 24, 16, 52, HIKE!" or something like that.

Thousands of years of mathematical evolution seem to have passed this lady by and she seems to be unaware of the serial nature of numbers. To her they are only symbols and and could have easily been substituted by hieroglyphics, had she known what they were.

To compound the problem, they don't tell you when your number is likely to come, forcing dozens of people to camp in front of the desk waving their tokens and praying to their respective deities to get them a boat. It was in this process that I discovered that Hinduism has a significant gap in its array of gods - there is nobody we can turn to for expediting our token.

And the ultimate irony? The local government, in its infinite wisdom, had organized a parade of boats for that morning which no tourist went to see because they were at the tourist office clamouring for boats, which weren't there because they were all at the parade! Its funny in hindsight...

Anyway, to cut a long story short, we had to wait from 7:30 am to 12 pm to get a boat, by which time the butanding had all gone off to sleep and the few who were there were being wooed by some 60 boats (the parade was over by then, you see), making it impossible to get a decent sighting.

But We Made Up the Next Day

Disappointed by the first day's experience, we decided to cut down our planned time in Legazpi and give the butanding another shot the following morning. And we were not disappointed.

Wiser from the previous day's experience (and due to the fact that the 'sorting lady' was missing in action due to the stress of the previous day) the tourist office had set a limit of 25 boats at a time and we managed to get on to the 16th (though our number was 10 - they never learn...).

And it was amazing! We saw and swam with 13 butanding seeing about 9 in the first hour itself. In fact, they were so numerous in the morning that no sooner would we get into the boat after a swim, we'd be told to put on our fins and be ready to dive again! On at least two occassions, the fish decided to rise while I was directly above it, making me scamper quickly out of the way. And I had to be careful not to be hit by the tail on several occassions when I fell back. But they are so gentle and go about their own business - I guess to them we're some funny coloured fish like the many that swim along under them... Boy, was it worth it! Sandi and I were within touching distance of the fish on several occassions.

Armed with my trusty disposable underwater camera (525 pesos in Manila) I was able to take some decent shots, though the water was murky with plankton - which is why the sharks are in Donsol in the first place, so one cannot complain - and they did not come out as clear as I hoped.

A ghostly shape in the water

The gills and back of the head

Dorsal fin - from right next to it! The fins are distinctive and the fish can often be recognized from the cuts (usually from propellors or fishing attempts) and abrasions on it

The view from above

Say hello to Mr. Whale Shark!

Also check out this video, which is what made up our minds to go to Donsol.

Tips for First Timers

Based on our experience, we think the following will help:

Get to the tourist office by 7 am, the opening time, register and get your number as early as possible. It is possible to register the evening before but don't bother with that unless they also give you a boat number
Stand at the desk, making sure you are on the first few boats
Go in the morning, preferably when it's sunny. Afternoons and rainy days are not good for spotting
Find people to share with, preferably not more than 5 swimmers in all due to the jostling that invariably happens when so many people are trying to follow the same fish. The ones behind invariably get kicked in the face and give up after a few attempts!
If you are a weak swimmer ask the BIO to hold you by the hand and guide you - you'll get the best view this way
Keep swimming with the fish - don't stop in awe as you'll find it difficult to catch up
Don't bother trying to aim the camera - just point in the general direction and shoot
Try to get near the mouth so you can see the mouth and eye - Sandi managed to do this and was rewarded with a wonderful viewpoint
Keep your fins on all the time in the boat, as you'll have to jump at a moment's notice
Keep a spare day as backup. If you have a good sighting on the first day, you can always visit Legazpi on the extra day

That's all folks! Do get to Donsol next year - and write to tell us how you liked the experience!

....

Oh, I forgot to tell you about the Firefly Cruise! Sandi, do you want to tell them about that?

The World's Most Perfect Cone

2006-05-05T19:44:00.000+08:00

... and also one of the most destructive geometric shapes (conical or otherwise) you'll ever encounter is Mount Mayon, one of Philippines' most famous sights and also its most active volcano.

[Note the smoke from the top - Mt. Fujiyama isn't half as thrilling!]

The title of 'most active' took some doing in a country where you can't toss a pebble without hitting a land-mass directly connected to the Earth's core but Mayon has worked hard for the spot, having erupted a total of about 50 times in the past 400 years, the most recent major one being in 1993 according to this site. At that time it killed about 68 people and prompted the evacuation of 60,000 others.

[By the way, I would not recommend throwing stones at a volcano. Who knows whether it was just waiting for a nudge from you to push it over the edge so it can erupt in your face?

And yet this was not even one of Mayon's more spectacular efforts. It's worst eruption so far was recorded in 1814, when it hurled igneous rocks the size of dinner tables over 10 kilometres (?) to the nearby village of Cagsawa, which was all but destroyed.

Over 1,000 people who had taken refuge in the church were killed and all that remains today is the bell tower surrounded by ruins and a breath-taking view of the volcano.

The church itself has been rather unlucky. It's was destroyed by the Dutch, rebuilt and then decimated by the volcano. I guess after that people figured it makes more sense to just go to church elsewhere!

The bloody history of the volcano and its potential for wreaking havoc at regular intervals have of course made it a popular tourist spot. There are even fool-hardy adventurers who choose to trek up this smoking, unstable mountain!

Sandi and I visited it on our way back from visiting giants, but that's another story that will have to wait till I can get the photos.

And, speaking of photos, check out this site for some pretty fabulous pictures of Mayon.

[Note: If you are flying into Legazpi, which is where you need to go to see Mount Mayon, remember to sit on the left of the flight while arriving as well as departing. The landing gives you a great first glimpse of the cone and the return flight actually passes right by the crater so you can see it clearly right next to your window!]

Diving 101

2006-04-22T15:27:00.000+08:00

I don't like the sea very much.

It has too much salt. And the sand gets between your toes and into your clothing, making sure to harm your softest parts after you dry out, at which point you are also really sticky and your hair has the texture of a scooter helmet. It will take an hour-long bath, with moisturized soap, shampoo and conditioner to return to normal. And then your skin will peel from the sun and the salt and people will run from you in terror for the next fortnight.

No, I'm not a beach person.

But....

Snork!

Snorkeling, so called because of the sound you make when you mistakenly ingest a snootful of sea water instead of the life-giving air you expected, is a life-changing experience. The colours, the corals and the dazzling array of sea life makes all the pain worthwhile. And the very first time I went into the water with mask and flippers - Boracay - I was hooked!

So when our friends Jimbo and Martha invited us on our maiden dive at Anilao, we jumped at the opportunity.

The Pier Uno Resort

Pier Uno was the lovely dive resort we stayed at. Managed by the very friendly Chiko, this charming little place has cozy little rooms, some pretty decent food (including an absolutely heavenly mango dessert) a great view, little outdoor wooden huts that are ideal for chilling out in, a karaoke room (!) and of course all the dive equipment you could need.

We arrived bright and early on Saturday morning, looking forward to a lazy Saturday mentally preparing for our big adventure on Sunday when we were informed that the big adventure would actually take place in a couple of hours and could we please get ready in, like, fifteen minutes so we could get going already?

Preparing for the Dive

Diving, as we quickly discovered, is not quite the picnic we hoped it would be. For one, as this was our introductory dive, we'd have to sit and take lessons from Jimbo, our certified-dive-master friend. The lessons included some pretty sinister info about the physics of diving which they illustrate with pictures of an air-filled balloon slowly shrinking in size as it moves deeper underwater, the implication being of course that the air balloon could be us, if we didn't pay attention in class. I didn't quite feel up to shrinking much beyond my 50 kg frame so I sat in rapt attenton and listened.

Over the next hour or so, we learnt the basics of diving, which can be summarized as below:

Don't descend too fast or your ears will burst and the blood will encourage nearby sharks to make a meal of you. You must 'equalize' every couple of feet (pop your ears like in a flight) to keep descending
Don't ascend too fast or all the air dissolved in your bloodstream will expand, making your blood resemble a fizzy cola, causing you excrutiating pain and bloodletting, leading to a similar result as in point 1. This is called the 'bends'
Staying in place is difficult due to the body's natural tendency to sink or float, necessitating the use of weight belts and a humungous inflationan / deflation jacket that presumably will help you control your movements
You must breathe only through the regulator in your mouth because inhalation through any other orifice will have unpleasant consequences such as death by drowning
Now that you know point 4, remember to keep calm as breathing too rapidly will cause you to shoot up like a rocket resuting in point 1
Every so often your mask will fill up with sea water and you will have to expel the water wherever you are (20, 40 or 100 feet below the surface) so tilt your head at a 45 degree angle upwards, gently lift the mask and breathe out through your nose. Breathe in through your mouth and repeat as often as required. DO NOT DO IT THE OTHER WAY ROUND. And, oh yes, keep calm
If your regulator should happen to slip off your mouth, like if you go open-mouthed with awe at the underwater beauty, keep calm - a recurring theme - continue to breathe out slowly (because you should never hold your breath underwater due to the possiility of the fizzy cola effect), swing your arm back and up and voila! the offending tube will be back in your arms and, presumably, in your mouth before you can snork out 'Jack Robinson'
Take in the scenery, relax and have fun

Got that? Good.

The Equipment

First, let's get used to the flippers (or 'fins' as they are called here), which is, of course, nothing like the free-and-easy activity it looks like on National Geographic. For starters, they take the skin off your heels, not a pleasant experience at the best of times, but in salt water it's about at par with having your fingernails pulled out. And they are so damn ungainly - you need to make wide leg movements to get anywhere at all, and that's not even in the direction you intended to go.

Once you have lied to the dive master about your degree of comfort with the flippers, you move on to the 'real' dive equipment - wet-suit, mask, flippers, BCD (Buoyancy Control Device - the inflation / deflation jacket mentioned earlier), scuba tanks, regulator (with spare) and weight belts. All in all, you've added about 25 kg to your body weight. The advantage of this is that you're that much more willing to plunge into the water, if only to take the load off your knees.

Taking the Plunge!

We went into the water in the classic dive style - pushed backwards into the water when we weren't looking. And then Jimbo gave us the signal we'd been waiting for - 'Dive!'

The next 30 mins passed in the following carefully orchestrated activities performed at pre-determined depths:

1 foot: I forget all that we'd learnt that day

2 feet: My ears start singing and I start equalizing like my life depended on it (OK, I remembered something!)

3 feet - 4 feet, 4 ft - 2 ft, 2 ft - 5 ft, 5 ft - 3 ft ... 10 feet: I bob up and down like a cork, alternating between ear ache, floatation control and trying to clear my mask. And the scenery? Well couldn't see much of that, what with all the bubbles I had around my head as I hyperventilated

10 feet to 20 feet: Jimbo grabs my BCD and shoves me down to the seabed, where I perch on my knees uncertainly, the slightest movement threatening to send me shooting to the top.

It is that this point that I first look around me and see Sandi, who's been at this level for the last 10 minutes feeding the fish and having her picture taken. I also see some fish.

20 feet to 0 feet: My rather bewildered brain finally registers that fact that, unless I were to grow gills in the next few minutes, there's nothing to breathe formiles around and that my flesh-and-blood existance depends solely upon a 2 cm wide tube whose supply could, at any moment, sputter and die - and me shortly thereafter. So I do what any sane person would do when faced with that realisation - I tear off my regulator, snork a snootful and shoot for the surface!

And thus ended my introductory dive.

Epilogue

We're planning to get certified now, which means I will take another 8 to 10 stabs at this, culminating in a final (not literally, I hope) effort down to 60 feet, at which point we will get our diving certificates.

Goody!

Internet at home

2006-04-01T08:44:00.000+08:00

Finally!!!! It took us 5 months to get a net connection here.

Month 1 - Scout market place for best net package. Zero in on local telphone major PLDT. Try getting through their customer service line every day!

Month 2 - Finally get through to a REAL person. Be told that you can't place the request as you are a lowly tenant. Owner has to call. Now switch from trying to get to PLDT to getting through to my owner (an extremely busy businessman)

Month 3 - Owner's secretary close to break down as she cant get through to PLDT, but unfortunately I can get through to her:-) I'm so 'Makulit' (nag in Filipino)!!! I give her the idea of emailing PLDT

Month 4 - Finally a Major milestone-we have applied for an Internet connection. However, we also need some extension sockets(We have 4!) at home disconnected. They cannot service two requests simultaneously , so sorry! Keep chasing PLDT till both are done.

Month 5 - Have become expert at sending stinker emails to PLDT. After many such mails, some indicating state of nervous breakdown pending Internet connection, someone fetches up on the day of the Fort Bonifacio stand-off. After half hour of pottering about..the impossible has happened. We have a net connection!! YAAAY.. no more spending 30 Pesos a minute trying to speak to family & friends.

That Sunday was indeed a red letter day in many lives.GMA got to keep her presidency, we got to keep our sanity!!!

State of Emergency

2006-03-27T20:09:00.000+08:00

A belated post but as all of you would have known from the endless ‘breaking news’ on CNN there was a state of national emergency out here recently.

Watching the news got us worried!!! That’s when we decided we needed a ‘COB’ bag – for all ye bankers & people in equally boring professions such as mine :-), a COB is a continuity of business or contingency plan….so off we went, meticulously packing passports, important papers, some pesos and the last few dollars we had into our trusty COB bag. Amit went as far as to pack toothpaste & a change of clothes just incase we had leave country in a hurry…Always the well groomed one in the family:-)

But seriously, just goes to show how exaggerated the news can get( and ofcourse, how well prepared we are:-)). The armed gunmen they showed on CNN were only in few select spots around the city. Life continued as before. Yet the coverage made it seem like the whole nation was in a state of fear.

Indeed, the last time there was coup near a major shopping mall, people continued to shop and normal life was not affected at all. Rallies also hardly ever get violent around here. The last time, when Estrada (Erap as he is called here) was ousted, people took to the streets, singing him out of office!!! Like that about the Filipinos!

Even if it was indeed serious, having survived many emergencies, my colleagues were blasé about the whole deal…This time around, they were a little tired of continued political instability and the disastrous impact that it has on their economy & the resultant bad press...

The only good thing about the emergency was traffic was a lot less and I got home a lot sooner those days I think….We also got adventurous and took a friend to Greenhills (awesome pearls for CHEAP!) and then to Lake Taal for a coffee on the Sunday there was a Fort Bonifacio Military standoff!

Bora & a Plea!

2006-03-05T00:32:00.000+08:00

We went to Boracay in Feb. Nothing we heard prepared us for it. Lovely blue water, amazingly fine white sand, lots of great & surprisingly affordable food (And veg at that!!), resorts right on the beach, lots to do…..

Sailing into sunset with my trusty ipod & Amit for company, snorkeling near crocodile island, sitting in a hammock while reading a book & nursing a Margarita, watching the sunset….life doesn’t really get much better than this. I’ve been to Penang, Goa and Phuket but Bora was easily the best for me.

Some pix attached, but I am begging Amit to quit being silent and start blogging (esp on Boracay). I miss your posts, Amit, you are fun to read!!!!!

Guys, do post comments and get my recalcitrant husband to blog????

Los Banos and Pagsanhan

2006-03-05T00:26:00.000+08:00

We set out one early morning headed to Los Banos, which is the Spanish word for ‘The baths’. I was very excited, quite naturally, at the prospect of going to places made famous by innumerable Victorian era novel s (BTW, do read Georgette Heyer if you like these kinda books. She is droll, and all her books have completely mad protagonists). So we arrived, Amit &I, a sleepy cousin and a very excited aunt at 9 am at a pretty, but non-descript town at the foot of McKinley. This is only time Lonely Planet ever let us down. They had highly recommended 2-3 hot spring resorts – all of them were extremely average places with extremely lukewarm water, and very sad hot water tubs (can’t bring myself to call them pools). We bravely persevered, though, going from one ‘resort’ (All homes, even ones the size of a studio apt have been converted to resorts) to another…in the hope of finding the perfect place to relax…not finding anything at all, we finally gave up at around 11 am.

We then drove to Pagsanhan, which is famous for its waterfall. We stopped by at Jollibee (the very worthy, omni-present local competitor to McDonalds ) to grab a bite. We started driving into the parking lot, when out of nowhere, atleast 10 men surrounded us waving and yelling ‘boat ride, boat ride, very cheap’ . Even my aunt, a hardened Indian, was a little stunned. All thru her trip she was enraptured by the legendary pinoy friendliness. This was menacing in comparison!

We eventually started on a narrow dirt path to the waterfalls with a bike (again waving boatride) in hot pursuit ….they followed us all the way and told us we were headed in the wrong direction. Our driver checked, and yes, we were on the wrong road. So we followed the bike(an unusual sight in Pagsanhan - its always the other way around)…we soon stopped in front of a run down building abutting the river…and pretty soon found ourselves agreeing to take a ride up to the falls in a canoe.

Apparently many tourists have been taken for a ride …everywhere we found signs with the official rate(660 person, 2 to a canoe) and a hotline to report harassment & forced tipping!

So we paid, and got in. As soon we did, the boatmen started off about how the fee does not include the boatmen’s pay. Amit made some witty remark about the canoe flying to the falls at 660 pesos…but sadly this was lost on the boatman. For the next 10 minutes, they went on abt the fees. When we said no, they got us to a ‘toll booth’ on the river asking us to pay. At this point I sorta lost it and pointed out the hotline number. After that, the boatmen stopped asking for more every minute. Request now came every 5 minutes!

But the irritating boatmen aside, the ride up was beautiful. The river winds its way deep into a gorge. Verdant green. Not too many tourists. Little canoe to take you places. Really Nice. See pic!

Ride downstream was spectacular – sort of quasi rapids & safe thrills of pseudo white water rafting. It’s an absolutely exhilarating experience, albeit a shirt one. I’ve been rafting before, this doesn’t compare but is highly recommended for a day tour or if u wanna take your folks. Safe fun.

We're back!!

2006-03-05T00:24:00.000+08:00

Hi there! A much delayed post - wrote it long ago and kept postponing the actual act of posting it. Anyway, here goes.

Happy New Year!
Hi guys, Amit & I wish you all a terrific, funfilled, stress-free 2006. We’re sorry to have been out of touch for so long but soo much has been happening in our lives. We’ve experienced our first Manila Christmas & the shopping mania that grips this nation, and whips up people into a frenzy. We also got a taste of the difficult visa rules for all us Indians – my aunt’s visa got rejected and after a long, tense wait of 10 days, finally got approved – just in time to catch her flight to Manila. We explored Manila & beyond in December – weaving our way through Tagaytay (Again!), Los banos, Green hills, Divisoria, Pagsanhan….and through it all, we moaned and groaned as we kept getting stuck in traffic jams ( there truly is NO traffic jam like the ones in Manila during the Xmas season). We then left the Manila xmas madness for the sanitized, restrained Singapore. Ushered in 2006 with a very lovely, but quiet new years eve party at a dear friends place there….and now we are back.

Amit says he won’t write till I start posting on the blog. So folks, my first post of the year.

My First Christmas Gift

2005-12-13T15:35:00.000+08:00

I received what I believe to be my first Christmas gift yesterday. Thank you, Jane.
Here's wishing one and all a very merry Christmas.

Miss World 2005

2005-12-13T15:22:00.000+08:00

Sandi has been rather unwell of late and the highlight of Saturday, normally our night out in town, was the Miss World finale. Being open-minded citizens of the global village, Sandi and I impartially assessed the line-up of contestants and settled on our four favourites based on objective criteria - Miss India (from our homeland), Miss Philippines (from the country that gives us our daily bread), Miss South Africa (looked Indian) and Miss Iceland (wildcard entry because she's beautiful, talented and otherwise well-suited to be Miss World).

Our wildcard entrant won and the other three placed out of 15 in the semi-final stage. Not bad!

Best Blog in Asia?

2005-11-24T16:14:00.000+08:00

Guys, our little effort has been included in a list of 'Best Blogs in Asia'.

Sandi and I, in all honesty and from a purely objective view based on an Excel-based analysis of thousands of similar blogs, think it is the best. But then our almost saintly levels of modesty dictate that this supposition be put to the test.

Do visit this page to register your vote. In the interests of objectivity, do read some of the other blogs comparing quality of content, style and other factors with our blog. Then - this is the crucial step - remember to select 10 from the ratings drop down on our page before you submit.

In case you'd like to rate the other blogs, do ensure you candidly evaluate its merits before selecting any number less than or equal to 1.

Thanks for your support. Come back soon!

Hong Kong

2005-11-24T10:38:00.000+08:00

I think I'm in love. I just returned from a trip to Hong Kong and the city has quite captivated me - it just seems so alive!

Landing in HK

The first surprise is the landing, where you descend almost to the water and start reaching for your life-jacket before you realise you're making for a thin strip of land between several hills. Heart-stopping, but lovely!

What is more heart-stopping, and quite the opposite of lovely, is the cab fare from the airport - 400 dollars (Rs 2400, PHP 2900) to get to Wan Chai, and that's not even the maximum by far!

In the City

People are bustling all around you on the street, under you (on the MRT) and even above you (on the elevated walkways). One can actually hope from building to building on these walkways, Not touching ground level even once! Glass-and-steel skyscrapers - my favourite is the exquisite IFC building - stand tall and sleek in the daylight against a (dwindling) carpet of greenery, forming a very appropriate backdrop for this city-state that has been declared the world's 'freest economy' several years in succession. The entire spectacle seems to radiate power and the 'New Economy'.

The spectacle, however, is slightly marred by the clunky red cabs that prowl the city's streets. Guess what? These are the same as those plying in Manila - The Toyota Crown. Hats off to the genius sales manager who managed to get thousands of these anachronistic marvels on to the streets of practically every emerging economy around Japan! And, since it's Hong Kong, you pay at least five times the price of Manila cabs for the same pleasure (or lack thereof).

Remember to carry lots of post-its with the names clearly written in English and, if possible, in Chinese as well because there is no way in which the cab driver will understand you or you him. You might as well be speaking Hindi and he Cantonese because the English sure ain't helpin'! And anyway none of us can ever pronounce the street names correctly.

Best take the MRT - cheaper and less talking!

[An interesting tidbit - Hong Kong features several names familiar to us. Do Connaught Place and Peddar Road ring a bell? I'm sure they do!]

For lunch we went to a Pizza and Pasta place that, surprise, surprise, does not have pizza! But the waitress has such a quaintly charming way of going to speak with the chef and returning to say "Sorry, no pizza. What can I do?" in a mixture of complete bewilderment and confusion that you quietly order the pasta. Until you go back the next day and the same thing happens, and you discover on careful questioning that they never serve pizza for lunch, a secret of such momentous significance that they elect to keep from the waitresses. Interesting!

[Probably the most expensive golf carts in the world are in Hong Kong, in Discovery bay. Apparently vehicles are not allowed there and the only mode of transport is golf carts, which have been limited to 500 in number, thereby taking the demand-supply situation to such a ridiculous level that each cart could go for as much as HKD 700,000, or the price of 2 Mercedes-Benzs]

After Dark

After dark the city transforms itself from chic sophistication to a completely wild and happening nightlife. The buildings themselves seem to shed their daytime suits (dark and pin-striped in this ultra-formal city) and go from stolid respectability to wild and carefree riotousness with a spectacular, coordinated pyrotechnic show after dark that is apparently in the Guiness Book for being the largest permanent sound and light show in the world. I had the luxury of viewing this panoramic spectacle from an excellent viewpoint on the water courtesy Discovery channel because my very drunk friends neglected to point it out to me while I was there!

And let us not forget Lan Kwai Fong, the heart of nightlife in the city, with it's gently sloping streets, innumerable bars playing great music and own web page. Under the pretext of having 'a couple of beers' a friend managed to pump eight pegs or so of alcohol into me at no less than four bars. It might have been more but I wasn't thinking too clearly after a couple of hours. I distinctly remomber having a beer and a Margarita at the first place, another Margarita at some place that only serves Margaritas (!), an excellent almond liquor shot at a third place and almost puking at a fourth place that had awesome retro music and a B-52 that makes you want to drink more, which we gladly did. Strangely, the bartenders and waitresses seemed to know my friend really well in each of these places. Dude, what have you been up to?

I also vaguely remember insisting that an American chap sitting next to me come to Chennai and visit us 'as soon as possible'. Hope he didn't take it to heart as we're not likely to be in Chennai for the next few years.

Oh well, at least he's visiting India. That's the main thing.

Conquest of Taal - The Promised Pics

2005-11-10T11:41:00.000+08:00

Alas, I'm ashiamed of myself but journalistic conscience forces me to state, for the record, that I misled you in my previous post. The dimple mentioned there was just that - a dimple. The volcano is alongside and we were just beginning to climb it when I took this picture.
The view is simply heavenly at the top. The lake is lovely, with little wisps of steam visible here and there if you look really closely while you are there.

[If you can see the wisps in this photograph, it's time to replace your glasses.]

Another breath-taking look at the lake from a slightly different vantage point. You'd think the other mountain is the volcano, wouldn't you? Trust the volcano to be the one least likely to be the real cheez.

I believe it is possible to make the trek down to the lake - you can, of course, take a guide *wink* - but we'll save that for another time!

Now here you can actually see the smoke rising from some deep, subterranean layer of really hot rock!

Conquest of the Taal

2005-11-09T14:21:00.000+08:00

Because it’s there.

- George Leigh Mallory, in a March 1923 interview with The New York Times, when asked why he wanted to climb Mount Everest. Mallory and his fellow climber, Andrew Irvine, were lost on Everest the following year. His body was found 75 years later, in 1999.

Having surveyed the volcano and gotten a lay of the land over spoonfuls of Halo-Halo and Putabumboong, we spent the past several weeks carefully planning our ascent. The details had to be meticulously ironed out as, due to our shoestring budget and general inability to climb anything higher than a flight of stairs, we could make one, and only one, summit attempt that day.

An analysis of weather patterns and in-depth interviews with successful climbers - plus the insistence of a visiting friend who was leaving for India the following day - led us to choose Sunday, 30th October as the best day for the effort. We anticipated the sun to shine through the first half of the day, making it imperative for us to make it back down before lunch or risk being stranded on the summit when the rain came down, transforming the slopes into a morass of mud that could engulf my new Sprandi sneakers in a matter of minutes.

Planning the Ascent

Getting to the top is optional, but getting down is mandatory

- Ed Viesturs, member of ill-fated 1996 Everest expedition

We were flirting with danger and we knew it. After all, the summit is only the halfway point - we had to make it back down. Our scant resources did not offer us much comfort either. One of our sponsors had backed out at the last minute, electing to fund an India-Pakistan cricket series instead. Under these conditions, it was suicide to even make the attempt.

We had decided to travel light, so Sandi selected a variety of energy-packed foods and drinks (sweet and / or fattening) that would sustain us on the long, hard climb to the top (and for several days afterwards, as the weight on my back would later testify). This, in hindsight, was a costly mistake, as we essentially ended up carrying about half our body weight in cans and bottles, a light little parcel if you are an ant but a dead weight if you are a human being. We would eventually have to jettison much of what we had carried in the car itself, even before we started the arduous climb.

Sandi, as base camp manager, handled the logistics. We were able to hire a car from Avis at a special promotional day rate of 1,700 pesos and borrow a friend’s driver for another 500. Provisions came to about 500 or so. Based on the extensive experience we had of such expeditions in the past, we knew the critical items of equipment were caps, thick socks, comfortable walking shoes and our trusty backpacks. So while I got out my trusty Sprandi sneakers, Sandi rustled up a pair of little red keds that would have made Reese Witherspoon look like the Terminator by contrast. That was mistake number two.

We also did not take cognizance of the weather, which was extremely pleasant and agreeable that morning, an ominous omen on a trip like this and indicating pain and torture every step of the way. But we pushed on, heedless, caught helplessly in ‘summit fever’.

We're Off!

We reached the foothills – or rather the foot lake - of the volcano early in the morning and were immediately faced with our first major challenge. How do we avoid getting conned by the masses of boatmen who were thronging outside our car, outdoing themselves in quoting ridiculous fares – 2000, 3000, 5000… it was like an auction!

And then Sandi, in her first heroic action of the day, cried out, “One thousand”.

[The second was in persisting with the keds]

The boatmen went still. Hushed murmurs went all around, as people whispered to their neighbours, “One thousand, one thousand”.

One thousand. It had never been done before. Was it possible? Could it be…?

Finally, after what seemed an eternity, one man stepped forward, gazing thoughtfully at our little threesome (Sandi, me and our friend), ‘I will do it, ma’am.’ The respect simply shone from his eyes as he ushered us to our boat.

And we were off!

At the Volcano

The little boat sped across the water while we marveled at the large, looming mass of cinders, ash and igneous rock that loomed up in front of us – the Taal volcano. It could have been heavenly, the boat gently swaying, the soft swoosh of the waves as they crested on the sides, the clean, fresh-smelling breeze... Only it wasn’t thanks to the loud, foul-smelling drone of the outboard motor that made conversation impossible until you almost wished the volcano would erupt, if only to wipe out the engine from the face of the earth.

Perhaps 15 minutes later, temporarily deafened, we landed at the base of the volcano and prepared for the climb. We had stashed the heavier tins and bottles back in the car (Base Camp), where other climbers could use them in the future, in case we didn’t return. The remainder we distributed between the three of us.

We decided upon the services of a local sherpa (actually a Filipino, but it sounds so much better that way), who promised to guide us safely through the supposed multitude of false paths and dead ends that had claimed the lives of many, or so he gave us to understand. In return he demanded 500, settling finally for 200.

This, as it turned out, was our third mistake, because he ended up having a leisurely 200-peso stroll up the hillside while we huffed and puffed ourselves silly along the one and only path that you could take up the mountain unless, of course, you are a mountain goat or somewhat addled in the head.

The Ascent

I climbed Everest so that my children wouldn’t have to.

- Jamling Tenzing Norgay, son of Tenzing Norgay

The Taal volcano towers a majestic 1300 feet above sea level, and can take even an experienced walker upwards of forty-five minutes to climb. Its single path is treacherous, leading off into side trails that could make you wander alone and disoriented for as far as ten feet before rejoining the main path. And if that were not enough, you have to make your way through dozens of wild, snorting, foaming horses carrying unimaginably obese American tourists, whose hooves (the horses’, not the tourists’) can set off avalanches of pebbles that really smart when they hit your shin.

And there we were, three misguided climbers, trying to make our way with the best of them!

The ascent may be divided by contour lines into three parts - an initial 100 vertical feet where you stride gaily, laughing and singing old Hindi marching songs (Kadam Kadam Badhaye Ja is a favourite), followed by 1100 feet of agony after your lungs have collapsed under the strain and you’ve discovered that red keds are best left in the nursery. These 1100 feet also feature some uncomfortably hot, steaming rocks along the way.

The final 100 feet is called the Death Zone as a combination of high altitude and torn ligaments leaves you light-headed and unable to think clearly. Decision-making is a strain and all entreaties to get up and cover the final 100 yards are met with blank incomprehension. There is little that your teammates can do but struggle on and leave you or it is likely they will meet the same fate. It is survival of the fittest - a cruel, but well understood code of the mountains.

After the initial 100 feet, we established our first camp (Camp 1) and stopped for a drink of bottled carbon dioxide, though we desperately wished we'd carried bottled oxygen instead.

We made slow, but certain progress, establishing a series of camps along the way until, finally, we reached the Death Zone immediately after Camp 21 (or maybe it was 31), where we began to really feel the effects of about two litres of bottled carbon dioxide sloshing about inside us. It seemed rather insistent on getting out. Perhaps it was the low pressure around.

And it was here we had our first casualty when our friend, who’d so far struggled gamely against the effects of about a decade of sedentary life, collapsed gasping to the ground and said “Leave me. Save yourselves” or something thereabouts.

We vowed not to forget him, a promise we made good on several years later when we reached the top and arranged for the guide to go down and help him up the last 15 feet.

Having overcome the debilitating effects of the Death Zone, we feasted our weary eyes on the delights at the top – a police post, a ramshackle toilet and a coconut seller.

Thankfully, on shuffling a few steps further, we caught sight of the lake nestling in the middle of the volcano and it was all really worth it.

We spent about half an hour on the summit, drinking heartily of some really sweet coconut water, before making a half-hearted attempt at using the loo - none of us got any closer than 5 feet of the stinking mess - and starting on our way down where we relieved ourselves like horses (and a mare) behind various bushes on the way. Now we know why there are so many little paths leading off into nowhere.

We slid the last 500 feet or so before finally arriving miles away from our boat and having to walk half-way across the island before finding it. Sandi's little keds were by now glistening redder than ever and she had to be stuffed into our backpacks for the last few metres.

[I wanted to post some more snaps but am having trouble posting the remaining pictures. I hope I'll be able to include them some time later.]

Now, Bird Flu

2005-11-09T12:25:00.000+08:00

Got an advisory on 'Avian Flu' just today.

[Wonder why 'Avian' is being substituted for 'Bird', considering that 'Influenza' is still referred to as 'Flu'!]

In brief:

Stay away from live animal markets, poultry farms and "any surfaces that appear to be contaminated by faeces from poultry or other animals". I'd love to be pigeon now - earlier I was merely irritating car owners by crapping all over their Maseratis. Now a single anal projectile can render the car useless!
Wash your food thoroughly, especially eggs. Cook it really well

This place is beginning to really frighten me, not least because my lunch spread now reads 'Mad Cow Disease, Avian Flu, Foot-and-Mouth Disease / Tapeworm and icky undersea fauna with a side of rice'.

Taxis!

2005-11-07T13:22:00.000+08:00

For those of us not blessed with a car (yet) or a helicopter and lacking the intestinal fortitude to take a jeepney or motorbike, the taxi is the best and most convenient form of transport.

Catching a Cab

Getting a taxi is a three-step process:

Step 1: Stand at any convenient corner, sidewalk, divider, bus-stop or even, under extenuating circumstances, in the middle of the road
Step 2: Raise your right arm, or if that is occupied with your umbrella, your left, or if that is clutching 15 assorted plastic bags from SM, your leg at a 90 degree angle away from your body and wave your hand (or foot) in a frantic manner as if trying to attract the attention of a bull that’s goring a matador nearby
Step 3: Repeat Step 2 for fifteen minutes till fed-up and proceed to walk in a calm and orderly fashion in the direction of your home, stopping at every intersection to repeat Step 2 a few times before carrying on

In the event that you do spot a cab, you can now proceed to test the Uncertainty Principle, which states that the mere action of observation can actually affect a passing cab’s properties according to certain probabilities, as listed below:

Cab that appeared empty almost to the point where it runs you over will mysteriously display a passenger lurking in the back seat: 70%
Cab driver making his way along a highway leading straight to your front door with no turns along the way will insist that he intends to go the other way: 15%
Cab driver making his way on off-peak hours along a deserted boulevard will prove to be clairvoyant and develop the firm belief that there is ‘trapic’ (traffic) and masses and masses of stalled cars just beyond the turn, making it fruitless to even venture in that direction: 10%
Cab driver will ask for 200 pesos for a 50-peso distance: 4%
The cab will be empty and the cabbie happy to get a paying passenger: 1%

Late in the evening, after the mall crowds have departed, it is even now possible to catch glimpses of lonely, deranged pedestrians clutching parcels and parcels of smelly, rotting groceries, dashing between intersections, fingers twitching helplessly at the ends of stiff-board-like arms, eyes darting this way and that, watching for an empty taxi to materialize out of the darkness…

Inside The Cab

If you are among the blessed few who manage to latch on to a cab, congratulations! Slip inside and take a look around at some of its attractions.

The modern Manila cab is a vehicle that was manufactured by the Toyota Company at around the same time that the Model T was making its debut in the US. Boxy and completely without any charm whatsoever, that these contraptions move at all is a source of unending wonder to me, given that their production lines have probably long been decommissioned, spare parts rusted into fossils and mechanics with any degree of familiarity with its workings having passed away decades back.

Let me first draw your attention to the door handle, which was broken off long ago and is now held together with a strip of packing tape as a kind of memorial to the part that once was. It’s purpose is to keep you from ever exiting the cab, which probably explains why it is so difficult to get an empty one nowadays.

Next we peruse the bucket seat in front. Remember never, ever to sit in it. True to its name, it is the most uncomfortable seat of all time and there is no position that you can assume which will not turn you into Quasimodo in a matter of minutes. And, oh, the seatbelt does not work.

Moving on to the meter, first-timers here will spend the entire duration of the journey trying to find it. It’s a little 3 inch x 1 inch thingy that’s located at the base of the gear shift and visible only in first gear, assuming you're breathing lightly into the driver’s ear at the time. In order to not offend the driver by frequently checking the meter, I've worked out method of lurching forward violently every time the brakes are pressed and quickly checking the fare. This works fine except in situations where a concerned driver asks you to put on the rear seat-belts leaving you with the less effective option of faking a sneeze to get a peek at the meter. The fare starts at 30 pesos and is calibrated to jump by 2.50 every time the driver presses any pedal at all, making a 5-minute stroll into a 150-peso experience.

Last, but not the least by a fair margin, is the fuel indicator, which always points to E, no matter what the distance is. Manila cabbies seem to have a genuine hatred to filling more than 2 litres of fuel into their tanks at a go and I have had at least two edge-of-the-seat experiences where the vehicle seemed to be traveling miles and miles on pure will power, an interesting alternate energy source, though rather unreliable. The only reason we made it both times was that, given the lateness of the hour, my prayers were beating his hands down in intensity and fervor, aided, no doubt, by the number and variety of Gods I could pray to while he had only one, poor soul.

More on Shopping @ Work

2005-11-07T11:28:00.000+08:00

This phenomenon has actually appeared as a news item. Read excerpts of the article here.

Shop @ Work

2005-11-07T10:06:00.000+08:00

The post on megamall should have made it all pretty clear - the national pastime of all Filipinos is shopping. Ask them their weekend plans, and they will nonchalantly tell you that they have exciting plans. They are going 'malling'.

This is paradise. Gigantic malls everywhere. Shops hawking everything from terrific clothes to shoes to gorgeous pearls...I couldn't have asked for more.

Or Could I?

It gets a bit much, shops, shops and more shops. Unending variety that confuses you, actually leaving you with no choice. Unending masses of people. All looking suspiciously like you do. Which happens, coz no matter what the variety, the human race, especially the female kind, tends to gravitate towards exactly the same kinda clothes and accessories.

After a few initial weekends spent 'malling' and in turn getting mauled, I decided to take it easy. I decided to stop shopping. Amit was ofcourse, disbelieving. But after a few weeks of me not shopping, he was ecstatic.

At least he was happy for a while. Because I soon discovered a really convenient shopping option. Lots of variety, easy payment plans, no crowds at all - a shopping paradise! My office.

Shop @ Work

It all started one day when I noticed my colleagues (mostly women, but is that topic of another blog) crowding into a cabin and there was excited babble that made one naturally gravitate to the place. I found the women swooning over some very nice lingerie...really nice stuff. I found out that the head of unit, a really senior person (the occupant of the cabin) was the one selling. Her family runs this as a business.

Next I noticed all women wearing the same shoes to work - you guessed right, again courtesy an office mate. Then I managed to find someone who made out of the world pasta and sold it at work. I also found the worlds best butter cake & brownies, right at my office.

I was zapped! In India, one is wary of anything even close to furthering the cause of a friend/relative, much less actually selling their stuff in office! But here it is all kosher, happening under the benign eye of senior managers. I spoke to my colleagues - everyone has a 'side' business. The salary they earn - mind you, my company is supposed to pay decent amounts - is simply not enough to keep with expenses of this country. Veggies, utilities, now fuel, everything here is expensive. In fact, the cost of living here seems to be at least 2-3 times that of India with white-collar incomes averaging 20-30% less than what one would earn back home. So most people are forced to add to their income by selling stuff@ work!!!

Maybe its time I started selling Indian accessories & clothes so I can afford the out-of-this-world brownies at work. Partnerships solicited!

Salcedo Village Market

2005-11-03T14:27:00.000+08:00

Fairly well-known in Manila, the Salcedo Village market offers weekend shoppers the chance to buy fresh produce at relatively affordable prices. All the stuff here has been organically grown and completely free of chemicals and is bought by strong, athletic-looking people with rosy cheeks that closely resemble the fruits they are buying.

Actually I'm not really sure why the shoppers are so happy because they're basically buying unwashed flora that has been lovingly raised in knee-deep horse dung, resulting in a kilo of fruit yielding only about 900 grams of undigested matter, if you know what I mean.

Be that as it may, the market itself is rather attractive, with a quaint 'village' atmosphere that makes shopping rather pleasant despite the fact that the market opens at an unearthly 7 am on Saturday and closes at noon. Apart from fruits and veggies, one can buy plants and also a great variety of cooked food - pastas, bakes, Filipino delicacies, savouries, you name it! All the aromas mingle together to actually make your tastebuds tingle and it is a very good idea to save breakfast for the market, where you can indulge yourself to your heart's content.

The market has recently extended its timings to 4 pm to cater to the increased demand near Christmas. People actually come all the way from Alabang, which is over an hour's drive away and accessible only via a toll road!

In case you want to take a closer look at the variety of goodies available, take a look at this epic, five-part series (read the entries between Oct 10 and 15th) on the subject!

Commuting - Another Option

2005-11-03T12:49:00.000+08:00

Now here's a sight you will almost NEVER see in India - helipads on highrise buildings. I believe all highrises that house or even expect to house Americans are required to have helipads for emergency evacuations.

While that might be an urban legend or simply someone cocking a snook at paranoid Westerners, the fact is that almost all the large office and apartment blocks in Makati have helipads and I've seen at least a couple of choppers landing. Our building has one too, though it might be a while before I start using the services to beat the traffic.

Diwali Came - And Went

2005-11-03T12:16:00.000+08:00

Belated kali Puja and Diwali Wishes to you all.

The festival of lights came and went relatively unnoticed here except among the Indian community which had some gatherings that we did not attend. Luckily Monday and Tuesday were holidays due to All Saint's Day and All Souls' Day falling on the same days.

We had a small dinner for a couple of friends who collectively make up 66% of our entire friend circle here (the remaining 33% had chosen Hong Kong over our happening do, for which we will never forgive him). It was also the 'coming out' party for our apartment, which we've kind of beaten into shape through four days of hard work on the living room and 2 minutes spent shutting all the other doors so people wouldn't see the chaos within. It's like the beginning of time in the guest bedroom, circa the day before God decided to create Earth.

We lit a solitary candle as our contribution to Diwali, sang old Hindi songs and feasted on rice, sambar, poriyal and chutney, courtesy Sandi, who spent 3.5 hrs in the kitchen to make it happen.

Emailed Advisories

2005-11-03T10:50:00.000+08:00

So much has happened in the past couple of weeks that it's going to take some time to do justice to it all - I had a short sojourn in Singapore, we had a four-day weekend here in which we took time to clean up the house and make a full-day trip to Tagaytay, we've finally visited the famous Salcedo Park Market, Diwali came and went... the list is really long!

And we got a couple of advisories in the space of two days a couple of weeks back:

How to Avoid Carjacking
Urgent Warning on the Bringing Into the US of PIRATED ITEMS (not just DVDs but also bags, cosmetics... the works!)
And an oldie but a goodie - An Earthquake Survival Guide

I don't think I ever expected to receive emailed corporate advisories like these! Contrast them with the typical Indian emailed forward on how to deactivate your cell phone in case it's stolen... doesn't quite seem so critical any more, does it?

How to Avoid Carjacking

The advisory begins with the following information for the benefit of those vistims whose primary concern in the first few seconds after the theft is to find the precise term to describe the event:

Carjacking involves the forcible theft of a vehicle when someone is aboard, usually in transit. This is different from carnapping, wherein the vehicle is taken while it is stationary and there is no one aboard it

Of course, this does leave some legal loopholes.

-------------------

Defence: "So, Mr Victim, you say my client carnapped your BMW"

Victim: "Yes"

Defence: "Where were you on the night of 14th June, between 11 and 11:30 pm when the crime allegedly happened?"

Victim: "In the car, watching helplessly as this gang was preparing to drive away with my car"

Defence (pouncing on the victim): "AHA! You say you were in the car? But, according to the Carjacking Advisory, a carnapping can occur only when no one is aboard. And yet you were in the car. I rest my case, your honour."

(Shocked silence from the victim. Murmurs in court. Flashbulbs go off)

Judge: "Case dismissed"

----------------------

The advisory further goes on to list six car-jacking hotspots, all of which are in and around Quezon City. Yet, presumably to mollify any feelings of hurt that these car-jacking residents of Quezon City might have, the reports warns that "although most incidents have been noted to occur in Quezon City, carjackings can happen anywhere". Sure, we'll keep that in mind - but in the meantime, I know which part of Metro Manila I'm avoiding.

Among the risk mitigation tips are items such as "ensure your vehicle is in good working condition in order to avoid vehicle breakdowns in potentially dangerous situations". Perhaps there is a point in this, but I cannot see it. After all, would a would-be carjacker really want to steal a car that breaks down at the first sign of pressure? And, even assuming stealing beaten up old lemons is a requirement, say as a sort of training programme in Quezon City Carjacking School, what would they do with the one-ton heap of junk? Call a towaway van?

Anyway...

Bringing Pirated Goods into the US

Apparently some Filipino passenger had his fake Louis Vuitton bag confiscated - I'm not even sure whether the poor schnook know it was fake - and had to carry his clothes in a garbage bag! Hope they emptied the bag before giving it to him. Piracy stinks!

Earthquake Survival

This was sent by a concerned friend in India. Thanks - I think.

Overstaying in Philippines

2005-10-27T14:37:00.000+08:00

Someone Sandi knows discovered last week that he had inadvertently overstayed his visa. While such an occurrence may be difficult to imagine in many other countries, it is as easy as falling off a log here in Philippines.

[Just to clarify, I meant that overstaying is easy in Philippines. Falling off a log is, of course, easy everywhere.]

The reason of course is that the visa is a fairly innocuous looking document that, at first glance, benevolently bestows on the bearer a three month validity. This illusion holds even at the second, third and fourth glances until you discover otherwise on some sunny day when, faced with a lack of reading material, you feel the urge to read every inch of the visa page. There, winking at you in plain view in the bottom 1/8 inch of the page, is the following ephithet:

authorized stay not to exceed 21 days

This clear, legible message is further highlighted by means of a signature directly over the number 21. Who could miss it?

The Men In Black Phenomenon

Of course, the chances of ones visa page being elevated to the status of 'reading material' are usually remote and hence such urges usually occur only in designated spots around the world. Such spots are called 'airports' for ease of identification and the urge is usually at its highest when you are second in line at the immigration counter.

[After extensive study of this 'last-minute' phenomenon, scientists have concluded that this is a modern manifestation of primeal survival instincts, which kick in just in time for you to avoid having the same happen to your private parts]

Having been thus unceremoniously transformed from an innocent and welcome 'tourist' to a dreaded and fearsome 'illegal alien' like some sort of a minor character in MIB, you flee from the airport, leaving your baggage to be removed from the airplane by Anti-Bomb squads while 300 fellow passengers thank God for a narrow escape.

[Three of them, resolving never to take a flight again, will set off for home, undergoing a treacherous and painful land journey during which they will be beset by thieves, chased by wild dogs and nearly run over by speeding vehicles while remaining in the constant misery of having a full bladder and nowhere to relieve themselves. And all this even before they leave Pasay City!]

At this point, you might feel unloved and unwanted but you could not be more mistaken. While the former might be true, the latter is certainly not. You are most certainly wanted by at least eight different authorities in Philippines alone, not to mention several international oganizations.

But Don't Be Afraid

There is a solution. And it is one part nitric acid mixed with three parts hydrochloric acid, a combination that is rumoured to dissolve gold. Nobody really knows the practical value of this discovery though, especially when related to visas.

The practical solution in this case is to have your visa extended, something you should have ideally done before overstaying but you can still make amends by paying a fine.

The procedure is simple - apply for an extension and pay the required fees and voila! In one to seven days (depending on your nationality and on whether you opt for express processing) you will have an extension of 30 days on your visa, starting the date it expired.

The fees are as below:
- Monthly Extension Application Fee: P 300
- Monthly Extension Fee: P 500
- Motion for Reconsideration: P 500
- Penalty for Overstaying: P 500 (this is applicable only in case you've overstayed)
- Legal Research Fee: P 30
- Express Processing: P 500 (in case you want your extension processed faster than normal)

In practice, it is also better to have someone familiar with the office go along with you in order to expedite the process. You could even get an immigration lawyer to handle the whole process for you and you need not even be present in person.

Once the visa is regularised, you are in the clear and need not worry any further. You are no longer persona non grata and are off the wanted lists, unless of course you have some other criminal activity to your credit.

But in that case, a visa extension is the least of your problems, I guess.

We're Famous!

2005-10-27T11:50:00.000+08:00

Folks, thanks to your generous support, this blog is gaining in popularity. Not only do we have an estimated *gasp* ten visitors a day (yes, you read it right - that's 1 followed by the Big-O), we're also making waves in the blogosphere.

We're among the 20,600 Google search results dedicated to 'public urinating manila', an interesting statistic I gleaned from reviewing our blog's website stats. Someone actually took the trouble of finding us this way, indicating wide-spread interest in such information and setting the tone for future posts on this blog. The public will get what it wants.

Among other interesting items, we feature in a list of funny blogs on Bloggerforum. The referral was, however, made anonymously. Wonder who it could be...

A Close Shave

2005-10-25T18:15:00.000+08:00

According to an extensive, ‘no-holds-barred’ survey conducted among non-resident Indians from my family, one of the enduring issues faced by the majority of global travelers worldwide is the complete inability to find, afford or trust a barber other than the good ol’ Selvaraj (or Joe, Yoshihara, Chen, Mbangwa or Abdul depending on your nationality). The above-mentioned has been cutting our hair for the past two years, narrowly missing the ears twenty-three times in that period, for which we are grateful.

[We are not so grateful for the twenty-fourth attempt, which was successful, but that is another story.]

For years global citizens like me have got around this issue by the mere expedient of having a haircut immediately before traveling anywhere and then resolutely refusing to have another until we returned once again to our loving arms of our barbers.

[And wives! Wives! Ow! Ow! I said ‘wives’ didn’t I?]

Of course, this approach has its downsides, such as the time I was in Munich for two months in winter and my dangling locks combined with a bad cold and mellifluous intonations of broken German that would make people swoon when they’d see me in dark alleys and subway stations. The results were especially spectacular when I materialized out of the darkness to ask people the time. A typical dialogue would go like this:

Me (materializing out of darkness): Wie spat ist es?
Innocent Bystander: THUD
Me: Oh, all right then

There were several yeti sightings reported that year.

Anyway, to cut a long story short (and shampoo, condition and straighten it) the ‘cut before you leave’ option works for travel up to and including two months if you refrain from catching a cold.

But Now What? Two Years Without a Haircut?

Fearing the consequences of not having a haircut for two years - among other things ‘missing link’ and ‘Steve Tyler’ sprang to mind - I mustered up the courage to pay 220 pesos to go to a salon at the Astoria hotel in Ortigas.

The hairdresser was this rather short, effeminate man who bounced his way across the room towards where I sat.

‘Would you like a trim?’ he asked encouragingly while looking deep into my eyes.
‘No, a medium cut please’, I said, avoiding his gaze and thereby sealing the fate of my scalp.

A devout adherent of the post-modernist school of hairdressing automation, he had a passionate aversion to doing anything with scissors, as I was to soon observe. Blessed with an almost carnal knowledge of the automatic trimmer, that buzzing Device From Hell, he proceeded to lop off large swathes of my hair, brandishing and weaving the little instrument in a sort of airy, faraway manner like he was merely diverting himself while awaiting the call of the mother ship.

Before I could say ‘Jack Robinson’ – which wouldn’t really have helped because that wasn’t his name – most of my cuticles were on the floor and I was well on my way to becoming a member of the Hitler Youth (and feeling uncomfortably cold on the top of my head).

After he was done shearing, he announced it was time for him to ‘shave the edges’, and ferreted out a shiny new blade, which I found rather reassuring until I discovered that he intended to use it without a razor!

[This paragraph has been deleted in order to retain this blog’s PG rating]

“All right, we’re done now”, said the little man, stepping back to survey the carnage, “That will be 220 pesos.”

“Heil”, I said weakly.

One Thousand Words About Traffic in Makati

2005-10-14T10:26:00.000+08:00

This is an average day in Makati. It takes over an hour to travel the 8-10 km to Quezon City during rush hour.

[Arial view courtesy an obliging friend who stays in a 29th-floor apartment. Complaints regading picture quality may be referred to Nokia]

Why is Manila Like Mumbai?

2005-10-13T11:43:00.000+08:00

After reading my first post, a friend wrote to me to ask why I felt Manila resembles Mumbai, thereby getting into my good books forever as an Interested Reader of my blog. Or maybe he’s just concerned that there’ll be nothing new to see here in case he does land up for a holiday and hence would rather contribute his tourist dollars to some other country’s GDP.

Be that as it may, I actually meant to follow up the first post with an explanatory note but got sidetracked by the Beach Boys. Just shows that one should clearly think one’s marketing campaign through rather than publishing a teaser post only to forget the follow-up!

Thanks to this little mix-up you now have post 2 following post 6. I urge you all to re-read the posts in the intended order – 1, 7, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 8 (to be written) - in order to get a full and complete picture of our experiences. It will not matter one whit in terms of your appreciation of Manila but it will mean that I double my hits in a day, thereby doubling my chances (currently zero) of getting that lucrative publishing contract.

[The mathematically-oriented (read ‘nerds’) among you, might quibble about whether doubling zero chances actually makes any difference, but hey, who are we to argue with an entire publishing community?]

Anyhow, getting back to the Concerned Mumbaikar’s issue, I must say that there are points of similarity that I’ve noticed based on:

(a) hundreds of Bollywood movies shot in exotic foreign locations purporting to be in Mumbai

(b) thousands of TV ad spots shot in front of the ICICI building in the Bandra Kurla Complex and purporting to be in exotic foreign locations

(c) my ‘artists impression’ of how Mumbai is, which is a detailed picture developed over approximately zero visits there over the past two decades

Manila – Mumbai: Separated at Birth?

GATHERING CLOUDS
Rain: It is almost eternally raining here. The only time when the sun does make a guest appearance is when you’ve remembered to carry your umbrella. My colleagues here tell me that the rainy season lasts till September, except when it stretches till December (there is no trace of irony when they make that statement). The only difference between Mumbai and here is that the drainage system is much better and chances of disappearing down a manhole are remote. I am told that Manila proper has an area where, if you get caught in traffic during the rain, it is advisable to get out of your car in an orderly fashion and make for high ground. Your car will almost certainly disappear under ten feet of water.

EVENING TRAFFIC
Traffic: According to http://www.dictionary.com/, traffic is defined as “The passage of people or vehicles along routes of transportation”. Hah! The only ‘passage’ on the ‘routes of transportation’ here is that of time. The vehicles themselves stand still, sometimes for days on end. In fact, there are several people who bought cars in the nineties and have been trying to get out of the dealership ever since. Some have even been able to trade in their used cars for newer models while they wait.

This is possible because of the unique configuration of traffic lights here, which are programmed to detect the slightest movement of your vehicle and immediately allow the other line to pass. Each traffic light is loaded with a bank of dual-processor microprocessors that allow them to track hundreds of vehicles in parallel, making them inch back and forth in an endless synchronized dance. This has the advantage of keeping drivers occupied, as they might otherwise have engaged in non-essential activities such as eating, sleeping or expelling body waste.

A JOLLY JEEP
Roadside Food Joints: There are little food joints called Jolly Jeeps all over the place selling cheap but filling meals. Among other things, you get vada-pao. (I really hope you didn’t fall for that!)

Little Children Selling Things: Children selling flowers, matchboxes and suchlike at traffic lights are a common sight. Their task is made much easier thanks to the traffic.

Long, Grey Flyovers: The less said about these ugly constructions the better.

Public Urination: I’ve seen a few people urinating under flyovers, though not as many as in India.

[No, there’s no picture of that, you pervert!]

Ignorance is NOT Bliss

2005-10-07T00:13:00.000+08:00

[Disclaimer: The following material contains information and ideas potentially unsuitable for those with a weak head. Please switch off your monitors and lie down in case you get a headache, become purple in violent disagreement, feel the need to compulsively scratch your head or rush off to eat Thai food. In case the subject matter is otherwise distasteful to you in some form please feel free to post a scathing comment so I can carefully consider your opinions before I delete it and remove you from my birthday list]

We Indians are overly proud of their general knowledge and awareness about world events, methinks. Haven’t you often participated with glee in conversations putting down those Americans / Europeans, who think Indians still roam the jungles on elephants’ backs during the day and watch snake-charmers as prime-time entertainment?

I have. Several times. Usually as the initiator.

But Now…

I’m ashamed of myself.

Because I know nothing about Philippines, whereas most of my colleagues here know tons about India – major cities, the saree, Indian food, customs, vegetarianism, religions… In fact, Indian history actually forms part of the curriculum in Filipino schools.

Imagine that! Indian history barely made it to the Indian school curriculum! How many of us can name more than a handful of figures in Indian history? Or the period during which they lived, however approximate? Or even what they did / are famous for?

See what I mean?

And It Doesn’t Stop There.

Filipinos, being part of Asia proper, are decently informed about their neighbouring countries and are quite capable of having meaningful conversations on important events in the region (except those related to finance, which is a subject usually met with blank incomprehension).

We Indians have no clue on Asian events – at least I don’t and I’m quite certain many others are in the same boat. I mean, to most of us, Indonesia is probably 'earthquake-country'. A nation of 250 million people written off, just like that.

Even on the subject of our immediate neighbours we have, at best, a limited understanding – and what knowledge we have is usually related to some form of violence or disaster (insurgency in Sri Lanka / Bangladesh, killing of the Royal family in Nepal, typhoons in Bangladesh, the tsunami in Sri Lanka...)

Do we have a clue about tourist spots in Pakistan? Or the quality of life in Bhutan? Or how about commerce and industry in Bangladesh?

Doesn’t ring a bell, does it? I didn’t think so.

An Interesting Question

If Filipinos can study about India and China, what’s stopping us from learning at least something about the various Asian countries in school? I’m sure we can remove the bits about Henry I to Henry MXCVIII and move directly on to Prince Charles and Diana / Camilla Parker-Bowles, thereby making room for the Ming dynasty.

We might even understand and appreciate the Eastern cultures better than we do now.

[Yes, cultural appreciation extends beyond gorging on Chinese and Thai food]
[No, adding Filipino food to the list above does not absolve you of the need to learn more]

My apologies to those of you who speak six Asian languages, are invited as a speaker to ASEAN conferences or otherwise demonstrate more than a passing knowledge of Asian events.

For the rest of us - there’s a whole world out close to home. Let’s learn something about it.

Tagaytay

2005-10-05T16:02:00.000+08:00

Tagaytay…

[No, not that way. It’s pronounced tagai-tai, with the ‘t’ having a soft accent and ‘ai’ rhyming with ‘tie’ … nope, still not right. I really must learn some of that phonetic spelling with the inverted ‘e’ symbol]

Let’s start over.

Tagaytay, however you pronounce it, is a lovely place that’s between one to three hours from Manila, depending on the traffic. For the finicky among you, that’s about 60 km.

[Traffic will be the subject of a later post. I need time to do justice to all the emotions – none of them being of the softer kind – that well up inside when dealing with this topic]

Anyhow, Tagaytay, to cut a long story short, is a lovely place in the neighbourhood of Manila. It’s where you go to see the Taal volcano that’s set in the midst of a wonderfully misty lake that brings to mind the one in Nainital, which is identical to this in every respect except that it’s not in Philippines and does not have an active volcano in its midst.

Yes, Tagaytay has an active volcano – one that, on its day, is capable of belching forth fire and brimstone and making the earth shake to its very foundations. I must state for the record though, that this one is not quite over-active, if you know what I mean. Its last belch was recorded around the early 20th century and it has not misbehaved since, except for the occasional burp.

It’s not really among the big boys either, so far as volcanoes go – in fact it is reputed to be the smallest volcano in the world. But what the heck - I’ve seen a volcano, which is more than you can say!

A Day in Tagaytay

[No, the ‘Day’ is not pronounced like the ‘tay’. I wouldn’t have been here to write this piece then, would I?]

Thanks to the hospitality of Sandi’s boss (name withheld on request), we were going on our first excursion outside Manila. She and her husband (name withheld on account of weak memory) whisked us off in their super-sized SUV type vehicle one Sunday morning for a day of fun and frolic at Josephine’s, a restaurant conveniently situated on the fringes of the Taal lake.

It was simply wonderful. The weather was cool, with the occasional drizzle to make it seem just like a hill station back in India. The volcano itself rose out of the water, a large, rocky mass, majestic in purple and I was simply captivated till I was gently taken by the shoulder and pointed in the direction of the actual volcano, which was only a little dimple on the shoulder of the mountainous mass I’d been contemplating.

I didn’t let this little incident get me down, though, and took 63 pictures of the little depression with my trusty camera phone, stopping only when Sandi asked me whether I was expecting it to make any sudden moves that I wanted to capture on film because, if not, we might have taken enough.

Having satisfied my trigger-happy self, I joined the others inside and gorged myself on Halo-Halo and Puto Bumbong while watching an open air wedding that was taking place next door.

It was a fairy-tale wedding, with a gentle breeze, a beautiful backdrop and a radiant bride in a pristine white gown, and I was idly wondering whether it would rain before the service ended, when it did and the service ended.

On the way back, we bought some fruits and veggies to keep Sandi happy and also some Buko Pie, which is like a sponge cake with shredded coconut topping. Or perhaps I’m thinking of something else.

The Hitch-Hiker's Guide to SM Mega Mall

2005-10-03T13:46:00.000+08:00

Realising that 6 hrs of unadulterated (pun unintended) Desperate Housewives was beginning to make its impact felt in the form of rigor mortis in our eyeballs, Sandi and I decided to take our Desperate Limbs out for some exercise and fresh air in the climate-controlled environment of a nearby SM mall.

Shopaholics Delight

The SM Mega Mall is one kilometre of concentrated shopping mania that currently holds the record for being the largest mall in the Philippines and the third largest in the world. I say ‘currently’ because rumour has it that the Mall of Asia, under construction, is tipped to be about three times the size of this one!

That these malls, each about the size of a medium-sized asteroid, happen to be in this country is no accident. They are tribute to the average Filipino’s insatiable thirst to acquire anything and everything that is not actually bolted down and they are willing to pay in cash, by card or through direct debit to have the privilege of doing so.

Most Filipinos seem to have several cards, each with a truly mind-boggling credit limit, and are maxed out on all but one of them. The remaining one is to tide their family over till next payday - which is about 29 days away - when they will pay the minimum dues and promptly rush off to try on new clothes and mortgage a few family members.

[Note: Any Filipino will tell you that a revolver is a bad thing, but then they’re thinking about guns, not their credit line.]

The SM Mega Mall

The Mega Mall is an infinite expanse of ever expanding masses of gaseous matter where distances are measured in light years and time and space combine into a single four-dimensional continuum that… oh, sorry, that’s the universe.

But the Mega Mall is no different. It consists of five floors of shops, department stores, food chains, movie halls and entertainment venues with an ice-skating rink thrown in for good measure.

You can spend the day walking about its many bylanes and alleyways and still not find the appliances shop you were looking for, though you will come across Dairy Queen at least four times, of which it will be the same one at least twice even though you’re sure you are on a different floor. You can also spend many happy hours staring at a little ‘You Are Here’ arrow on the floor maps that seems to be in a different place each time even though you have returned to the same map.

And, depending on their marketing arrangements with SM, some of the shops pick themselves up and follow you from place to place, popping out when you least expect them till you buy something, anything, just to make them go away.

The SM Mega Mall is also an anti-gravity environment, in the sense that it seems to be against the idea of gravity and does not understand its effects on the average muscular system trying to cope with 22 kg of packages. There isn’t a bench, chair, stool, bump, raised mound or even an anthill in all the miles and miles of shiny corridor space they’ve provided. Even if there were, you’d probably be trampled to death by the crazed, lost, tottering, teeming masses milling around in the area. So perhaps the lack of seating isn’t such a bad thing, after all.

Still you soldier on in the hope that the promised appliances shop is just around the next corner till, dazed and exhausted, you drag yourself to the Food Court, staggering under the weight of all the useless merchandise you’ve purchased to exorcise the spectral stores.

And then, the circle is complete. Before you know it, the Food Court has taken over your mind and you’ve chewed, munched and sipped your way through a burger, fries, two Cokes, a Blizzard (large) and fudge cake and are reaching for popcorn till you are brought up short by the realization that

(a) you have no money left

(b) your wife is threatening to leave you if you stay any longer because the $%&@# appliances shop will probably never be found and she is #%$&^ if she is going to look at another $#%&@ map to try and locate it

Next time I’m bringing the Hitch-Hiker’s Guide!

Live in Manila! Two Beach Boys

2005-09-29T13:44:00.000+08:00

The Beach Boys are coming to Manila!
Live!!
To sing some of their greatest hits!!!

What could be better than having one of the greatest bands of all time come touring to your city?

[Note 1: this is not a rhetorical question, meaning you are supposed to answer it]
[Note 2: if you don't know who the Beach Boys are then please read this carefully before answering]

The answer is - having all the original members of the band present and voting at the occassion.

A Pair of Beach Boys

I didn't know till today that the Beach Boys have been dwindling in number over the years due to one reason or another (untimely death, disease, power struggles and other ailments that so far were restricted to third-world nations) and those that survive seem to be touring all over the world as part of separate shows.

It must be a logistical nightmare for tour organizers, kind of like scheduling trains on the London Underground or something. Imagine the mess they could get into:

"Ladies and gentlemen, those were the Beach Boys with their evergreen hit - Good Vibrations!
And now we have another special band with us here tonight. Put your hands together for the ONE, the ONLY, BEACH... err, um... boys?"

They probably use special software.

Anyway, the nub of it is that we will have two-fifths of the original band, Mike Love and Bruce Johnston, here in Manila along with a motley collection of supporting (no, not literally, even though Mike and Bruce are getting on in years) musicians on October 7th.

For all you die-hard fans who've somehow missed the hundreds of ad spots on TV, tickets are available at SM and priced in whole-number multiples of your monthly salary.

See you at the show!
Or not.

Books for Less!

2005-09-28T13:42:00.000+08:00

An essential part of settling in was finding a good bookshop.

We cannot do without reading and were actually very worried that the prices of books might not match that of India. Among the 'essentials' that we packed were cartons and cartons of books to tide us over till our next visit to India. Of course this was based on the premise that Manila might be a vast wasteland where survival is key and books are on par with solitaire rings...

Anyway, we're happy to report that bookshops are a dime a dozen and the average Filipino seems to read much more than the average English-educated Indian. We actually found several bookshops offering 20-30% discounts on books - the National Book Store chain is one of them.

But Nothing Beats This

We - or rather, Sandi - discovered this little chain of bookshops titled 'Books for Less', which makes up for it's rather unimaginative title by making an awesome collection of sparingly-used books available for anywhere from 30-90% less than the price of a new edition! And not just any old junk but the kind that can make you throw yourself with cries of joy on them.

I've found some excellent business titles (Crossing the Chasm is one) and Sandi has managed to collect literally bushels of obscure titles that she claims have been 'well-received by the literati', whatever that means.

Check them out - there's one in Ortigas (Quezon City), one on Valero (Makati) and another four outlets or so I gather. You'll probably see us there, spending the last of our food money on 'The Secret Life of the Garden Slug'.

First Impressions

2005-09-28T12:21:00.000+08:00

Manila is quite different from what I had imagined it to be.

Based on the second- and third-hand information I had from family and friends - a typical conversation would go “Well, I heard it from Sheetal, who says her friend dated someone who had heard of the Philippines from his roommate who had a Lonely Planet guidebook to the Philippines” - I had expected it to be either:

(a) Squalid and unsafe, full of slums and corruption where the common man keeps body and soul together by playing guitar and dancing the Salsa or

(b) A happening expat hotspot with glass and steel skyscrapers reaching for the skies, apartments the size of football fields and a nightlife that refuses to end (work being a recreational activity)

Having spent a few days here, I can now say with authority that it is:

(c) Mumbai

(Come to think of it, the flight from Singapore does seem to make an unusually prolonged turn to get to a place that is effectively on a straight line path from there. Am I missing something here...?)

Are we in the Matrix?