Unlike my Peru blog, which was mostly compromised of e-mails I authored within days after I visited certain locations, this one is being written more than six months after the trip concluded. I don't expect to go into as much detail, but it might be an interesting exercise to see what stands out in my mind half a year later
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To describe the flight from Los Angeles to Hong Kong to Manila would probably be a huge waste of time, and to be honest I don't really remember much about it. We flew Cathay Pacific which rocked; the in-seat entertainment console had tons of free movies and television which helped the 14 hours go by as easily as possible. I watched 'Taxi Driver' for the first time and 'Goodfellas' for the millionth time. The seats were comfortable enough, and they had this neat 'clamshell' design which meant that when the person in front of you decided to recline - you didn't get a face full of their seat. The food was also pretty decent. I had requested the Kosher meal out of sheer fascination - in today's crappy air travel reality, the fact that food was even being served was amazing, let alone the fact that we had a choice in what we ate. I managed to get a few hours of sleep before we touched down in Hong Kong and were blasted by the extreme humidity on the jet bridge. Our layover was short, and the flight to Manila even shorter. We de-planed and made our way to the baggage claim.
One obligation that is understood to exist for anyone traveling to the Philippines is what is called the 'balakbayan box' - it's literally a box filled with all sorts of things; clothes, food, medical supplies, American souvenirs, candies, etc. Most of the contents are meant for family members who live in the Philippines - many items that we consider trivial and commonplace are sought after and expensive or even impossible to find in the Philippines. What any Americano headed to the PI should know is that there is a true art to packing these boxes - seek guidance and help from those who have packed them before. Also, be forewarned that you won't just be bringing things for immediate family, but for other people's families that live nearby. And while most of the things people ask you to bring are benign, you may be asked to transport medicines, prescription drugs, and other items that could put you into legal jumbo at customs...more on that later.
Upon retrieving our luggage and balakbayan boxes, we were horrified to see that my box, expertly packed as it was, had a gaping whole in one side. The airport was far too chaotic though to give it a closer inspection and all we could do was hope that nothing good fell out. On to customs.
Being the rocket scientist that I am, I had spent the days before our trip researching what to expect at customs. Reading the statements on the PI government websites, I began to grow paranoid. Pretty much any of the items we were bringing in (clothes, food, appliances, etc) could be taxed or even confiscated. On top of that, the Philippines had just executed someone accused of smuggling drugs into the country - and I wasn't sure exactly what they government agents would think of whatever Rx drugs we were carrying on us (without prescriptions) for other people. However, everyone told me not to worry - that they never had any problems getting through customs with their boxes in the past - that the box stuffed full of goodies was just a way of life. True, but all of the people reassuring me were not 6' tall, white Americanos - I was certain that customs would want to bust my balls, at least a little. Even funnier were the suggestions to slip the customs agents some money. Sure, bribes are commonplace outside of the United States, but all of these advisers were forgetting that I was as smooth as 60-grit sandpaper and that in my attempt to slip the money I'd probably end up causing a huge scene. Still, I wanted to ensure an easy pass through customs and decided to fold a $20 bill in each of our passports - subtle enough for me. Feeling courageous, we handed our money stuffed passports to the agent, who by the way was a tiny, old lady who was probably someone's grandmother. Upon inspecting our passports, the money fell out onto the desk, which resulted in a quick "Oooooh!" followed by the fastest and most surreptitious of hand gestures, sweeping up the bribe up and pocketing it with incredible finesse. "Welcome to the Philippines - enjoy your stay!", she beamed. And we were off...that is until upon attempting to exit the terminal when we were asked to produce our baggage claim tickets. Luckily, because I'm a paranoid traveler, I still had these handy...the only reason I mention this is because in my respectable history of domestic and foreign travel, never once have I been asked to produce this documentation.
As anyone who has traveled abroad knows, a familiar scene of third world airports is the huge and chaotic crowds that gather at the passenger arrival area - either inside the non-secure part of the terminal or immediately outside. At Manila International Airport, this crowd is waiting for you across a street upon your exit. We were warned not to cross into this sea of people until we could visually identify my fiancé’s Auntie which turned out to be great advice until my fiancé admitted she did not quite remember what her Auntie looked like. This game of looking for someone you barely knew in a huge crowd was made extremely difficult by the masses of people yelling, smiling, and motioning for us to cross, but eventually we made visual contact with someone who my fiancé thought was 'probably her'. We crossed the street, leaving the safety and security of the airport behind us, and were happy to confirm that we had indeed successfully found the Auntie - and thus our ride out of Manila and up to the Province of Pangasinan.
Our escape from the airport was not without its own hitch. As everyone was hugging and shaking hands, a man approached and insisted that he help me with my bags. Not knowing any better, I assumed this man was either an Uncle of my fiancé’s or possibly our van driver. None of my fiancé’s family spoke up, and as we approached our van, the man demanded a tip. I was ready to fork it over; a few dollars to me was worth the man's efforts and avoiding a tense situation. But before I could take out my money Auntie told me to get in the van and gave the man a scolding. It turned out; he was just some random dude and one of many individuals who wait around at airports and bus stations looking for disoriented tourists to prey on. I honestly don't think he had any malicious intent - he was just hoping to make a little money off my confusion/guilt - but one should always be wary of unsolicited assistance and respectfully decline.
We were finally off. Our van ride up to Lingayen, Pangasinan took about 4-5 hours, but the time flew by as I stared out the window in fascination at the various cityscapes, which eventually turned to the most amazingly lush, green countryscapes. We passed several military bases along the way and much like I saw in Peru, more types of police than you could imagine, most donning M16's and AK47's. I'm still not sure if all these assault weapons make me feel safer, or if instead they actually instill fear of their own. We also passed a billboard advertising 'Vegetarian Chicharon' - this horrified me even more than the guns.
We stopped for lunch at the half way point, in a city called Tarlac. We ate at Max's, which is famous for its chicken and I also had my first chance to try 'bangus', also known as milk-fish, and sort of a big deal near Lingayen/Dagupan, where we would be staying for the next couple of weeks. Meal completed, and we were on our way once again. The longer we drove, the roads got narrower and bumpier. More than once, we had to pull over and ask for directions. And then suddenly, there we were - pulling up into a driveway and finally at Nanay's house.
