My first visit here was in 1992. I stepped off the plane and was hit with the heat. Not Miami heat, but, soggy and foul smelling heat. After 20 hours in the plane, I was ready for paradise, and this wasn\'t it. I reached the long lines and kept looking around to see if I was in the dummy line. The huge number of people moving around followed by the baggage area was overwhelming. It took me a while to get a cart because the \"handler\" wanted money and I only had dollars... and I gave him one. Then I watched the wierd boxes, cases, packages, flow onto the conveyer belt, people pushing shoving and completely unaware of others. They were intent and if they were in front, they had the right of way.
The smell was pervasive and as I exchanged my dollars for pesos at the airport (22:1), I couldn\'t wait to hit the streets and see the beauties and explore the country. Now I know that I should have purchased a few pesos and found a money stall later- would have saved a lot. The taxis were swarming and I felt grateful to get one right away. He took me the 1/2 mile to the hotel I had reserved and I paid the 500 (not on the meter) thinking I was lucky. If I had taken a metered cab and held the driver to the meter I would have paid 75 pesos.
As I watched the dizzying display of dingy stores, broken buildings, unfinished buildings, teeming brown people, scaggy dogs, garbage piles, tall buildings, confusing, confused traffic, mixed with my feelings of tiredness from the flight, I didn\'t know if I liked or disliked it. I needed bed.
Checking in, I tried to give them my best American version: Hi, I\'m Mike, I have reservations,....etc. I was listening to po every other word (which I already, smugly knew to be \"sir\"), but hearing confusion. Watching people reading manual reservations sheets, bothered by Filipinos cutting in line directly in front of me without a qualm and the reservation people stopping looking for my reservations and talking to the line cutters. Boiling with American anger I demanded my due and with the po\'s here and there eventually got my room.
In the room I noted imperfections everywhere. Shortly a knock at the door announced what I assumed was a hotel worker with a small vase of wilted flowers. He waited for my 100 peso tip. This was followed by a knock and some jaded bananas...another 100 tip. I went to bed at 9AM but couldn\'t sleep. I finally slept, and woke up exhausted and starved at 4 PM.
With some excitement I went downstairs and walked into the streets. It was one thing to watch this mess from a cab, another to be one of the mess. I towered over people (6\'4\"), but most didn\'t give me a second look. Manila is used to people like me. I wandered though carefully after tripping on broken sidewalk. Cars, cabs, bikes, trikes, jeepneys, guys pushing big carts loaded with bananas.... everywhere. I got lost after 2 blocks because the blocks weren\'t blocks. The roads seemed straight but I couldn\'t identify any landmarks. I asked a few people who spoke English, sorta, but my questions didn\'t fit their logic systems. Finally, someone helped me get back.
That night I went to a section known for girls........... In the bar, I paid 1,000 to sit with a girl. Eventually I learned that the girls didn\'t go out unless you were able to make a date and take one out the next night. I paid 30 pesos for each beer the girl guzzled. And... I left after 30 minutes. Took a cab the 8 blocks to the hotel and went to bed. I had arrived.
Mike M.
Topic: First experience- the smell (Read 7224 times)