Manila
Arriving in Manila in early December, after the cold and gloom of Canada, is an experience in transition. Toronto, when we left, was averaging about 8 degrees Celsius - not bad, for the time of year. In contrast, average temperatures in Manila at the same time of year is 25 degrees Celsius, with humidity. Even at 7:30 in the morning, when our flight arrives, temperatures are already hovering at 20 degrees Celsius, necessitating a change of dress at the airport: off go the sweaters, jeans, and socks; on come the t-shirts and shorts.
Greg's and my week in Manila involve, among other things, getting over extreme jet lag. Despite vigorous attempts to stay up and adjust our body clocks, for days, I can only manage to stay awake until 8:30 pm and am wide awake by 4:30 am.
As a city of over 20 million, Manila is extremely chaotic, in a way that cities of equal size are exciting and energetic. Public transportation and infrastructure are virtually non-existent - there are only three rapid transit lines, which are limited in the distance they travel - and the few side walks here are narrow and often occupied with vending carts, compelling pedestrians to walk on the streets or resort to walking down back lanes. The vehicle really does rule here, with size determining how much accommodation is given to other vehicles and pedestrians. My hope of resuming a normal running routine are dashed by the real risks of being dashed by vehicles, which barely slow to accommodate pedestrians crossing, let alone stop altogether. On Sundays, when traffic is only marginally less hectic, traffic barely stops at controlled intersections, even when pedestrians are crossing. We find the negotiations involved between being a pedestrian and motorists terrifying, as we have to be assertive when crossing the street, even with the aid of traffic signals.
Avoiding traffic has become Greg's and my MO. We resort to walking the back lanes, starting with the ones behind the condo we are staying in. Alternatively, we take cabs everywhere, given how relatively affordable they are. These alternatives are not altogether advantageous: walking the lanes means walking in neighourhoods full of lower income housing. We feel as if we are encroaching on the spaces of people whom we feel regard us with a mix of curiosity (what kind of relationship does that Filipino have with the White guy?) and mild disdain (how dare these foreigners come through here, showing off!). The incessant mix of guilt and sympathy we feel is wearing. Consistently, though, people on the streets express genuine friendliness and welcome, which we, as gay men, find comforting. There seems to be a tolerance of folks like us, in this exceedingly devout Catholic country.
Most notable about the city is Intramuros - literally, 'within the walls' (remnants of the old city that date back to late 16th century) - which these days, contain some of Manila's oldest buildings, including some fine museums and churches. Just outside of its walls, is the National Museum of the Philippines, which contains some remarkably beautiful modernist paintings by lesser-known Filipino artists - a pity, really, given the calibre of their work.
Other places of interest in the city include Binondo, Manila's Chinatown (established in 1594), which contains colourful buildings and one of the city's oldest churches. It is disconcertingly chaotic, though, and we feared either being hit while crossing streets or pickpocketted by the many clever young thieves, milling about.
Other highlights include the vibrant, if not a bit shabby, gay club district, in Malate, with the cheapest beer - San Miguel - as well as some of the best electronic dance music I've ever moved to.
Click here for Manila Slideshow
Lake Taal
In our quest to beat the heat, Greg and I take two daytrips, organized through the local tourist office in Malate.
Two hours south of Manila, Lake Taal is in the province of Batangas. The lake occupies a volcanic caldera formed by repeated eruptions, the last occurring a few hundred thousand years ago. Its unique quality: Volcano Island, the core of the caldera, which itself, contains another lake. On arrival at Lake Taal's shore, Greg and I are assigned a guide, Jun, who acts as both our boatman and hiking guide. Despite the expanding tourist industry, we learn that jobs like Jun's are casual, with able-bodied and competent workers vying for the opportunity to work, on a daily basis. Whoever is available to work, can do so, but likelihood depends on demand, making contingent work like this an unreliable way to make a living, especially for young fathers (Jun has two elementary school-aged kids), and despite its potential to be fairly regular during peak tourist seasons. Given his skills and circumstances, we generously tip Jun.
Crossing the (rather turbulent) lake, we arrive on Volcano Island and from there, hike up (pony-riding is an option, but I feel too sorry for the poor beasts) to the summit. The two-hour car ride and hour-long climb are worth it, though. The views are stunning!
Two hours south of Manila, Lake Taal is in the province of Batangas. The lake occupies a volcanic caldera formed by repeated eruptions, the last occurring a few hundred thousand years ago. Its unique quality: Volcano Island, the core of the caldera, which itself, contains another lake. On arrival at Lake Taal's shore, Greg and I are assigned a guide, Jun, who acts as both our boatman and hiking guide. Despite the expanding tourist industry, we learn that jobs like Jun's are casual, with able-bodied and competent workers vying for the opportunity to work, on a daily basis. Whoever is available to work, can do so, but likelihood depends on demand, making contingent work like this an unreliable way to make a living, especially for young fathers (Jun has two elementary school-aged kids), and despite its potential to be fairly regular during peak tourist seasons. Given his skills and circumstances, we generously tip Jun.
Crossing the (rather turbulent) lake, we arrive on Volcano Island and from there, hike up (pony-riding is an option, but I feel too sorry for the poor beasts) to the summit. The two-hour car ride and hour-long climb are worth it, though. The views are stunning!
Click here for Lake Taal Slideshow
Magdapio Falls
The other day trip we take is to Magdapio Falls, located in the province of Laguna, three hours south-east of Manila. Arriving in the town of Pagsanjan, we board a skiff, along with two highly experienced paddlers, who navigate us through a gradually narrowing gorge, past treacherous rocks and the most breathtaking forested cliffs. They engage in a mesmerizing show of paddling acrobatics known as 'shooting the rapids'. The front man not only paddles, but also constantly jumps in and out of the canoe onto the slippery rocks (in bare feet) to pull the boat out of harms way. At the end of an hour-long ride, we reach our destination: a 10-metre high waterfall, to which we take a raft, lingering in the cavity carved out behind the falls, deafened by its onslaught. The experience, which includes taking in some of the lushest rainforests, the coolness of the micro-climate created by the high gorge, and the balletic grace and expertise of the paddlers, is moving.
We learn that it takes seven years of training and practice to become as adept as our paddlers, for many a risky commitment, given the highly competitive nature of the work. Despite the demand for the paddlers' specialized skills, there are simply too many of them to guarantee consistent work. Given how many of these young men have families to support, it's difficult to imagine how they make ends meet.
We learn that it takes seven years of training and practice to become as adept as our paddlers, for many a risky commitment, given the highly competitive nature of the work. Despite the demand for the paddlers' specialized skills, there are simply too many of them to guarantee consistent work. Given how many of these young men have families to support, it's difficult to imagine how they make ends meet.
Click here for Magdapio Falls Slideshow
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