Maneeeela and on to RB’s Place

After getting the cell phone sorted out in a giant mall at Global Village (a large and posh live/ work development where a lot of expats can feel safe in a crazy city), we headed back to the house for another nap and to discuss dinner plans. This ended up being a huuge feast (I see a trend starting to emerge). We had a coconut pork dish, which George had me eat a few bites of before he informed me it was ear cartilage. Whatever, it was very good, despite the crunch of the cartilage. 

The next day we headed off for another cultural experience. We were going via public transportation from the south to a northern neighbourhood. We walked out and caught a Jeepney (check that one off the list) to the train station. There are thousands upon thousands of them, and they are all different. Loud exhausts, black smoke belching, split-rim/ bald bias ply tire wearing, but I think they are very cool. I’d be lost, as the way to ride them, and which ones go where is confusing, but George and Beauty are seasoned, and we made it to the train. 

It was Sunday morning, but despite that, we all groaned when the train pulled up to the stop, crammed full of people. Sunday morning?? The doors opened and we started shoving our way in. George was holding their daughter Vivienne’s hand, and her foot slipped into the gap between the car and the platform. She dropped right to her waist, and George pulled her up and out (not a good way for Vivienne to experience her first train ride ever), but as a result, the doors started beeping warning that they were about to close. All I could do was push RB in far enough to get my fat gut in there, and the doors closed, brushing against my back as they did so. “No one gets left behind!” 

Many stations later, we hopped into a taxi for the remainder of the trip. We arrived at RB’s Cousin Abdul’s place, where he lives with his wife and two daughters. More culture shock, and just as much for me as it was for the residents of the settlement? I’m not sure what to call it. Basically, it’s a piece of land that someone was allowed to temporarily develop, but in the mean time, it sort of becomes a ‘legal’ settlemement that would require some level of legal action to evict the residents. Look at the picture of the water meters and individual water lines. There where also somewhere around 50 power meters. That makes it an estimated 150 people living in an area not much bigger than my 50×150′ lot. Crazy! There is no way I could do it. There was a scabby pregnant dog and it’s even scabbier mate, there were cats everywhere, and even more cat shite. The sewers were gutters with rats, but there was a good slope, so there was no real odor. The people are a real community, and help each other out, and therfore is a safe place to live. Abdul said he was happy there. 

Their place was not much bigger than this shot, but Abdul and his wife manged to put together another huge feed. Abdul can cook and was a great host. A neighbour helped fan the fire in the coal fired grill. 

While we were there, a torential rainshower started. We waited for it to subside a little before we ran out to the street to grab a cab. Selfless Abdul made us wait under cover while he ran a few blocks to find a cab, since cabs are rarely on that street.

Look, the same narrow walking lanes are often frequented by motorbikes as well. 

In this shot leaving Manila, you can see just how dense some of the ‘hoods are. There are 13 million people in this city! 

We left Manila for Puerto Princessa. It feels a little funny to echo the same trip Rox did last year, but I was keen to go, and so was she. Puerto is a a smaller city, but insane nevertheless. It didn’t feel dangerous or threateneing llike Manila, where the cabbies made sure to lock the gringos in. The traffic in Puerto is mostly tricycles, which are greatly underpowered 150cc motorbikes attached to a wierd shaped sidecar, made of super light (nope!) steel tubing as welll as steel bodywork shoddily welded together. And there are hoards of them! I was looking forward to dodging them in traffic to test out a few theories I had about traffic safety in the Philippines, but first we had to fuel up on some Halo-halo! So, a few people are sitting around a boardroom table brainstorming an icy snack, and this is what they came up with.

‘Okay, ice chips and coconut milk, what else?’

   ‘Don’t forget the ice cream, but make it purple! Yeah!’

‘Nooooiiiice! How about some big red tapioca? Think that’ll fly?’

   ‘Blew my mind bro! I was gonna say it needs like 5 or six cubes of green jello’

‘Sweet! Now we can sprinkle on the crisped rice and call’er done!’

….small voice in the back….’don’t forget to put beans at the bottom’

   

We went to a very large market. I had no idea there where so many types of white rice.

The fish section.

This was the view from the rooftop balcony of our place in Puerto Princessa. We’d be leaving on the bus to Port Barton first thing the next morning, Tuesday. As always, a Jollibee is never far away.

My first trike ride was quite fun. The thing is heavy, slow, and very noisy, and they are complete piles of crap, tortured to within an inch of their lives, but again, traffic is super fun to experience, and Elmer, our driver, did it without apparently looking forward at all. 

The bus station, and our bus to Port Barton.

At the station, each bus is readied, and are each staffed by at least four guys. There were two guys that handled the cargo on the roof, and these guys were machines! they could pick up a 75lb bag, squat right to the ground with it,  and throw it straight up to the catcher on top. If it was too heavy, this guy just put it on his head, climbed the ladder up the side, and chucked it where he wanted it. This picture was from one of the many random 2-30 second stops along the road. He waivered briefly going up the ladder with this load, but it clearly wasn’t balanced well. At one of the stops rolling into Port Barton, he simply jumped from the roof of the bus. 

This place looks awful familiar. This will be our place for the next week, before we move on. RB is currently up in the hills doing yoga, then we are going to tend to some relaxing before we start our dive certification tomorrow, which takes around three days. 

Everyone gets their picture taken on this palm tree.

Afternoon snack of locally made natural peanut butter, 20 cents worth of bananas, a bag of Philippino roasted peanuts (awesome!) and a couple of beers to wash it down. Good times.