The Philippines: A Sort of Introduction

From which, remarkably enough, nothing develops.

For precisely seven days, I traveled to the "wrong side of the Pacific Ocean" to explore the lesser known regions of Southeast Asia. As the title may have indicated, I ventured to the verdant landscapes of the Philippines.

Having lived in Taipei, Taiwan for eight and a half months now, the change of scenery was as drastic as it was welcomed. Coming from a land of straight faces, silent glances, and reserved temperaments, it was refreshing to see singing in the streets, smiles from strangers (particularly the women) and colors on the buildings. Taipei is a quiet night at home. Manila is an all-night rave.

With over 7,100 islands in The Philippines, it was difficult to choose where I would go on vacation. Would it be the underground river in Palawan? Or how about the white sand beach resorts of Boracay? Surely one couldn't pass up the opportunity to visit the spectacle of the Rice Terraces in northern Luzon. I devised an elaborately planned vacation that would take me on bus, plane and boat to these many wondrous destinations on a trip exceedingly ambitious. And in the end, it turned out that the ambition was too excessive resulting in a more focused trip to the city of Legaspi about ten hours south of Manila- the capital of The Philippines.

"What," you ask, "could be in Legaspi, a town just over 150,000 inhabitants, that could be more majestic than the rice terraces, more mysterious than an underground river, or more luxurious than the upscale resorts?" Well, I don't want to spoil the fun so quickly in the game. Instead, I would like to introduce you to a place I found enchanting and unpredictable. And over the course of the next few days, I will update you, piece by piece, about my journey into an exotic territory seldom traversed since the demise of Magellan in 1521.

~On Transportation~

In Legaspi, there is no central bus system or air condi- tioned taxis waiting to zip you along to your desired point of interest. Point A and point B are connected only by two things- the jeepney and the tricycle. A jeepney looks like a 1950's jeep decked out with lights, music, and paintings of religious subects. Thousands of these line the streets all over the Philippines with their destination written on the front and sides. There are no bus stops along their fixed route, so getting on or off can happen at the local square or along a small house twenty minutes outside the city. "God Bless our Journey" and "I Love Jesus" are common slogans decorating the interior of these automobiles. To get off them, you simply hit the roof and yell, "Parabo" to the driver. However, this doesn't make him stop. Instead, he slows down while you jump out the back into oncoming traffic. You then have seconds to make it to the side of the street before you are run down by the hundreds of other jeepneys coming straight at you.

If you would like to get some- where else more quickly (although the jeepneys are one of the most efficient forms of transport- ation, both economically and temporally, I have ever encountered), you have the slightly more expensive option to take a tricycle. A motorcycle is attached to a sidekick cart like in the old movies. You hop in, tell the driver where you want to do, and then off you are. Along the way, don't be surprised if the driver picks up a few more passengers looking for a lift. Don't be even more surprised if those passengers decided to sit on the roof of the tricycle.

~On Gastronomy~

Sitting in my apartment a few weeks ago, deciding on where to spend my vacation, I was watching a television show on the Travel Channel showing the world's weirdest foods. From chocolate covered scorpions in England to tequila drowned worms in Mexico, I waited patiently for the number one terrifying treat to be displayed. What surprise and curiosity engulfed me when it turned out the number one strangest food was Balut and it came from The Philippines. Balut is a partially developed duck embryo served at night all around the country. Considered a delicacy, the duck is incubated for eighteen days until a heartbeat is seen under a lamp. The eggs are then sold to vendors who serve these to the willing participants. The custom is to peel back the shell, add salt to it, drink the juice and chomp on the chick. However, after 18 days of development, it's not uncommon to run into the occasional skeleton structure or a feather. I had every intention of tasting this rare food but, unfortunately, circumstances lead to my never having tasted the treat. However, I was dazzled by the tastes of other equally delicious foods in the Bicol Region of the Philippines.

My favorite were the bananas. Oh the things they could do with plantains! They pan fried them, grilled them, and served them up in ways your or my imagination could never concoct. My favorite form was a plantain deepfried in a phyllo or egg roll wrapper and sweetened with sugar. This dish was called a Turin.

Another hot dish that was surprisingly tasty, yet I only had a small bite, was a thing called "Soup No. 5." Ok, I'll just come out and say it- I ate ox testicles (unlike the squid balls which were only ball shaped servings of squid, these really were the reproductive organs of the ox). I thought it was tongue- but I was dead wrong.

Also topping the charts was a special regional delight of Bicol Express consisting of taro leaves, spices, some vegetables and the crowning achievement- it's all cooked in coconuts milk. Having never tasted anything quite like it before, I was surprised by its spicy, almost minty flavor. As you may well see by now, the Filipino cuisine will deliciously haunt my mind, and my tastebuds, for years to come.

~On the Hoi Polloi~

In Taipei, staring is a common occurance. But it's a vacant stare, a stare of "why is this foreigner here?" Polite chit chat is non-existent and flirtation is therefore a social faux-pas. In The Philippines, interaction is much more celebrated and practiced. I recall walking aimlessly through the MRT station of Manilla on my first day and an attractive young woman in front of me turned around and looked right at me. I smiled, she smiled back. I stopped smiling, she did not. I walked slower, she matched my pace and continued to stare. Eventually, she turned a corner and was gone. What I thought was a one time occurence turned out to be the common practice of my stay.

In Legaspi, where foreigners are not frequently spotted, it was as if I was a celebrity strutting the around the city. Young children yelled from the jeepney windows "Hey man!" and teenage boys high-fived me on the streets. The tricycle drivers always smiled and yelled, "Hey Joe, wanna ride?" But the best looks came from the women- never taking an eye off me, nor letting their smile fades, I felt like a real somebody in their eyes. My favorite interaction came when I was at the local department store buying a hat for one of my trips and a young lady walked up behind me and started singing to me the love song playing on the sound system in the store.

In essence, I went from one friendly country, Taiwan, to another friendly country, the Philippines. Only, the Taiwanese are friendly on the inside- they will do anything for you, and the Filipinos are friendly on the outside- they sing, and smile, and talk to you like you are the most important person in the world.

~On Adventure~

In the days to come, I will post exciting tales from my trip on this site. The vacation was filled with excitement, danger, intrigue, exhilaration, and the world's largest shark. So come back each day to learn more about how I came to be in this riveting and tormented land.

From your ox-ball eating, jeepney jogging, oggled piece of meat in The Philippines, Michael.