The Philippine Chronicles- Part One
Those close to me will know that I spent half the month of August in the Philippines. Over the next few weeks I will present a four part series of my excursions in that country and opine on some observations on various topics with a bias to the Philippines.
The trip as a whole was successful although it left a sour taste in my mouth following my phone being stolen at Manila airport just as I was about to fly back to Korea. That however is a story for later, besides my emotive blog minutes after the unfortunate event already did a good job.
We flew to the Philippines on the fourth of August 2012. There were five of us in the group, me, Lesli- a sweet Mexican American woman with the kindest face, Sabina- Lesli's cousin whose wit I found really refreshing. Then there was Nomar, a Filipino who was studying for his Phd at a Korean univeristy and who had lived in Korea for the past six years. Tatu at eight was the youngest and his carefree exuberance was refreshing to all.
As we strolled through the doors of Incheon International Airport a flood of conflicting emotions hit me. This was the place of my entrance into Korea. And it seemed in those few moments as I beheld the magnificent infrastructure of the airport, the giant Samsung screens, the flurry of people in and out of its revolving doors I was taken to the day I set foot on Korean soil. Except then I was greeted with a blast of icy cold air that I was momentarily shocked into inactivity before quickly scurrying back into the building to wait for the bus in its shelter. Yet aligned to that forlorn sense of awe at my being in Korea for the first time, this time I began feeling an overpowering homesickness. I explained its genesis as something to do with my being in close proximity to all these aeroplanes. I was sure one or two would be flying to my beloved country.
Airborne!
My pensive mood was noticed by one or two members of the entourage. I sent a text to Sombo telling her I was almost incurably homesick. She replied telling me to be strong or something to that effect. I had little time to continue being homesick as soon it was time to board the plane. Having gone through the security check-ups that are increasingly becoming annoying but nonetheless understandable given the general atmosphere of fear when dealing with air travel, I sat down in the Boeing plane, operated by Jeju Air.
We arrived in the Philippines at almost midnight, the three and a half hour flight having gone on smoothly but for one might turbulent spate that had one or two people yelping in fear. I have to admit that I have only flown on a few occasions and would never consider myself experienced enough. Yet even those around me who had used air travel more often than me agreed that it was a mighty and violent spate of turbulence. the only person seemingly unperturbed by the violent shaking of the plane was the little boy Tatu, whose boyish joyful face found amusement in the whole episode. I heard him say how he wished there would be a repeat of the same, "it is like a roller-coaster" he was saying.
We disembarked from the old terminal and I was immediately struck by how dirty the airport was. The rundown buildings, the steady rain pouring, the sheer number of people just standing seemingly aimlessly. I craved for a breath of fresh air. This was not helped by a fella smoking just in front of me and I had to endure the offensive fumes from his cigarette.
After what seemed like an eternity Alex came and whisked us away to the hotel where we stayed for the night. I saw Manila at night, and what struck me was this mixture of some beautiful clean buildings with dirty rundown dilapidated ones. Wide expansive roads, beautiful expensive cars on one hand and yet roads with potholes as wide as a canal and weather beaten cars on the other hand.
A country of contradictions was my initial conclusion. The gaping inequalities between the poor and the rich only cemented this view. Over the next two weeks I would visit some of the poorest households in this country, would be feted by some of its most affluent citizens, I would behold at times spellbound the beautifully endowed nature as well. I would meet some of its most friendly people, would recoil at being shamelessly subjected to racial prejudice and would be sought out by its unique sex industry. An interesting two weeks lay in store for me.
The trip as a whole was successful although it left a sour taste in my mouth following my phone being stolen at Manila airport just as I was about to fly back to Korea. That however is a story for later, besides my emotive blog minutes after the unfortunate event already did a good job.
We flew to the Philippines on the fourth of August 2012. There were five of us in the group, me, Lesli- a sweet Mexican American woman with the kindest face, Sabina- Lesli's cousin whose wit I found really refreshing. Then there was Nomar, a Filipino who was studying for his Phd at a Korean univeristy and who had lived in Korea for the past six years. Tatu at eight was the youngest and his carefree exuberance was refreshing to all.
As we strolled through the doors of Incheon International Airport a flood of conflicting emotions hit me. This was the place of my entrance into Korea. And it seemed in those few moments as I beheld the magnificent infrastructure of the airport, the giant Samsung screens, the flurry of people in and out of its revolving doors I was taken to the day I set foot on Korean soil. Except then I was greeted with a blast of icy cold air that I was momentarily shocked into inactivity before quickly scurrying back into the building to wait for the bus in its shelter. Yet aligned to that forlorn sense of awe at my being in Korea for the first time, this time I began feeling an overpowering homesickness. I explained its genesis as something to do with my being in close proximity to all these aeroplanes. I was sure one or two would be flying to my beloved country.
My pensive mood was noticed by one or two members of the entourage. I sent a text to Sombo telling her I was almost incurably homesick. She replied telling me to be strong or something to that effect. I had little time to continue being homesick as soon it was time to board the plane. Having gone through the security check-ups that are increasingly becoming annoying but nonetheless understandable given the general atmosphere of fear when dealing with air travel, I sat down in the Boeing plane, operated by Jeju Air.
We arrived in the Philippines at almost midnight, the three and a half hour flight having gone on smoothly but for one might turbulent spate that had one or two people yelping in fear. I have to admit that I have only flown on a few occasions and would never consider myself experienced enough. Yet even those around me who had used air travel more often than me agreed that it was a mighty and violent spate of turbulence. the only person seemingly unperturbed by the violent shaking of the plane was the little boy Tatu, whose boyish joyful face found amusement in the whole episode. I heard him say how he wished there would be a repeat of the same, "it is like a roller-coaster" he was saying.
We disembarked from the old terminal and I was immediately struck by how dirty the airport was. The rundown buildings, the steady rain pouring, the sheer number of people just standing seemingly aimlessly. I craved for a breath of fresh air. This was not helped by a fella smoking just in front of me and I had to endure the offensive fumes from his cigarette.
After what seemed like an eternity Alex came and whisked us away to the hotel where we stayed for the night. I saw Manila at night, and what struck me was this mixture of some beautiful clean buildings with dirty rundown dilapidated ones. Wide expansive roads, beautiful expensive cars on one hand and yet roads with potholes as wide as a canal and weather beaten cars on the other hand.
A country of contradictions was my initial conclusion. The gaping inequalities between the poor and the rich only cemented this view. Over the next two weeks I would visit some of the poorest households in this country, would be feted by some of its most affluent citizens, I would behold at times spellbound the beautifully endowed nature as well. I would meet some of its most friendly people, would recoil at being shamelessly subjected to racial prejudice and would be sought out by its unique sex industry. An interesting two weeks lay in store for me.
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