...and the award for Random Beach Trader of the Year goes to:
"hello madam - you want I take your blood pressure? Very good price!"
Friday, January 12, 2007
Wednesday, January 10, 2007
Beach Trader Update!
You'll be pleased to hear that business is good for the Guitar Seller: he's expanded his range. Today I saw him with 6 Ukuleles [as well as the usual 5-6 guitars - which he balances on his head] and a banjo. Fair enough - you never know with Banjos - probably best not to invest to heavily [grin].
Also, there's been a Sword shipment! Today I met 4 traders all pushing swords. Which is good cos I completely forgot mine - there's always something isn't there? [sigh]
Also, there's been a Sword shipment! Today I met 4 traders all pushing swords. Which is good cos I completely forgot mine - there's always something isn't there? [sigh]
Tuesday, January 09, 2007
José Rizal
Never heard of him? Neither had I.
José Rizal [1861-96] is credited with starting the Independence Movement in The Philippines. He wrote a book called "Noli Me Tangere" in which he criticised the Spanish imperial regime. It was banned but became a 'cult' underground success. Later he founded a civic movement called ' La Liga Filipina' which sought reform through legal and non-violent methods. The organisation was disbanded by the Governor.
Rizal kept writing [another novel, many essays and pamphlets] until he was imprisoned in 1892 and exiled to a distant province. Whilst in exile he continued to write, but he also built a school, a hospital and a water supply system; as well as working with local farmers to introduce new crops and teach new techniques. He was finally executed in 1896 for supposedly organising an armed rebellion in Northern Luzon.
The pieces of his writing that I have seen so far are intelligent, moderate and peaceful. His status as National Hero appears to be well deserved.
But
Recently a religious sect has appeared called The Rizalists, they believe that Rizal was the second son of God and will return at some point to lead his children into 'the promised land'.
Rizal's final walk [from Fort Santiago to the Square where he faced the firing squad - the area is now Rizal Park] has been marked with a path of golden footprints. I saw many people 'walking the steps' of Rizal with a fervour that I found quite unsettling.
At Fort Santiago [a place which is literally soaked in history] there was much to see. Below the splendid ornamental platform overlooking the river are some particularly nasty dungeons. In WW2, when the Japanese Army took the Fort, they had the ingenious idea of putting portals into the walls so that the cells would flood with each incoming tide. They were the execution chambers. Up to 10,000 Filipino and US POW's died in the Fort.
The Fort has been in existence since the 1500's and has many more gruesome stories. However, the main attraction by far is the remains of Rizal's cell. Pilgrims, many of whom have walked his footsteps all the way back from the park, stand motionless and gaze upon the space he once inhabited.
Across the courtyard is the Rizal Shrine which includes exerts from his writings along with many artifacts - his coat, books and desk - but the prize exhibit is a piece of his bone [complete with bullet hole] enclosed in an ornamental glass urn reminiscent of the Catholic Relics. The Chapel where he spent his last hours is next door. The pavement outside was awash with flowers and people queued to peer in the doorway where I could see even more flowers.
The upper floor of the Shrine is dedicated to his final work: the poem "Mi Último Adiós" [My Last Goodbye] which he wrote in Fort Santiago and smuggled out, in an oil lamp, to his sister. It has been translated into every language I could think of [smile] and carved into stone, painted as art, engraved into metal, etc, etc... although the Tagalog version is there purely for appearances - from the moving lips of the supplicants it seemed they knew all 16 verses by heart.
From reading the exerts I got an impression of someone principled, highly educated but humble, with a heart-felt desire to 'do the right thing' and expose the injustices as he saw them.
This man was quietly brave: stoic rather than daring.
"I have sought political liberty" he said "but never the freedom to rebel"
I can't help but wonder what he would think of the cult that has arisen around his memory.
José Rizal [1861-96] is credited with starting the Independence Movement in The Philippines. He wrote a book called "Noli Me Tangere" in which he criticised the Spanish imperial regime. It was banned but became a 'cult' underground success. Later he founded a civic movement called ' La Liga Filipina' which sought reform through legal and non-violent methods. The organisation was disbanded by the Governor.
Rizal kept writing [another novel, many essays and pamphlets] until he was imprisoned in 1892 and exiled to a distant province. Whilst in exile he continued to write, but he also built a school, a hospital and a water supply system; as well as working with local farmers to introduce new crops and teach new techniques. He was finally executed in 1896 for supposedly organising an armed rebellion in Northern Luzon.
The pieces of his writing that I have seen so far are intelligent, moderate and peaceful. His status as National Hero appears to be well deserved.
But
Recently a religious sect has appeared called The Rizalists, they believe that Rizal was the second son of God and will return at some point to lead his children into 'the promised land'.
Rizal's final walk [from Fort Santiago to the Square where he faced the firing squad - the area is now Rizal Park] has been marked with a path of golden footprints. I saw many people 'walking the steps' of Rizal with a fervour that I found quite unsettling.
At Fort Santiago [a place which is literally soaked in history] there was much to see. Below the splendid ornamental platform overlooking the river are some particularly nasty dungeons. In WW2, when the Japanese Army took the Fort, they had the ingenious idea of putting portals into the walls so that the cells would flood with each incoming tide. They were the execution chambers. Up to 10,000 Filipino and US POW's died in the Fort.
The Fort has been in existence since the 1500's and has many more gruesome stories. However, the main attraction by far is the remains of Rizal's cell. Pilgrims, many of whom have walked his footsteps all the way back from the park, stand motionless and gaze upon the space he once inhabited.
Across the courtyard is the Rizal Shrine which includes exerts from his writings along with many artifacts - his coat, books and desk - but the prize exhibit is a piece of his bone [complete with bullet hole] enclosed in an ornamental glass urn reminiscent of the Catholic Relics. The Chapel where he spent his last hours is next door. The pavement outside was awash with flowers and people queued to peer in the doorway where I could see even more flowers.
The upper floor of the Shrine is dedicated to his final work: the poem "Mi Último Adiós" [My Last Goodbye] which he wrote in Fort Santiago and smuggled out, in an oil lamp, to his sister. It has been translated into every language I could think of [smile] and carved into stone, painted as art, engraved into metal, etc, etc... although the Tagalog version is there purely for appearances - from the moving lips of the supplicants it seemed they knew all 16 verses by heart.
From reading the exerts I got an impression of someone principled, highly educated but humble, with a heart-felt desire to 'do the right thing' and expose the injustices as he saw them.
This man was quietly brave: stoic rather than daring.
"I have sought political liberty" he said "but never the freedom to rebel"
I can't help but wonder what he would think of the cult that has arisen around his memory.
Sunday, January 07, 2007
First Impressions
Beer: The local brew is San Miguel Pale Pilsen. It
comes with a Gothic looking label and costs between
30-50p a bottle [hurrah!]. Interestingly the canned
version has a photo printed on the back of two
underage & sozzled girls giggling, blearily clutching
beers in one hand and the table in the other. Since I
can't read the text, I am not sure if this is a advert
or a warning [grin]. The front of the label, however
is in English and San Miguel is described as being the
"only beer that nurtures true Filipino friendships" so
that's nice.
Tourism: Not that much of it [so far] and they are
very relaxed about it. They are only touts I've ever
met who gladly take 'No' for an answer and then wish
you a Happy New Year. [There IS however a lot of sex
tourism - but this subject deserves a blog all of it's
own - almost every... no scrap that, every white bloke
over the age of 40 has a piece of 18-yr old Filipina
totty on his arm.]
Beach Sellers: This is a whole new world of beach
trading [smile] - I should explain - this is a
profession I take great interest in since I was once a
necklace & hair wrap [remember them?] seller in Corfu.
I am used to beach traders selling jewellery, sarongs,
drinks, etc - the usual stuff. This afternoon, whilst
chilling on the beach, I was offered: a guitar, a
billiard cue, a metal pan scourer and [my favourite] a
2m x 50cm brass picture showing a battle of unknown
origin. Am I missing something?!
I have this lovely image in my head of 'Janet & John'
on the beach and all-of-a-sudden John jumps up and
says
"Goddammit I forgot my billiard cue! Now where can I
get one in a hurry?"
Diving: I've done three dives so far - 2 average, one
fab. Earlier today I saw three White-Tip Reef Sharks!
[two babies, one 5 footer] Yummy! But there's loads of
stuff I've never seen before: fabulous corals
[specially soft corals], multi-coloured basket stars,
neon starfish, groovy flat worms, hairy crabs [big
grin]... but not that many fish! Although I did see a
giant barracuda this morning [about as big as me] he
was cool and posed nicely!
BUT: I fell! Boo! Was coming out of my room, early
morning and I [foolishly] attempted to come down the
wet, shiney, painted steps in my flip-flops - what a
muppet!
Whoosh...
I was lucky, after a bounce or two [grin] I slipped
off the side of the steps and landed in the mud rather
than on the concrete below. So I have some alarming
bruises, a slightly damaged ego [fortunately my ego
bounces better than the rest of me], a nasty cut on my
shin [where I hit the concrete] and a silly walk
[smile].
I got a telling off from one of the girls who works
here - I retreated back to my room [for a little cry]
and she followed me up to see if I was ok. She wagged
her finger at me [she's about 15] and said
"Very smooth" pointing at the steps, "very slippy"
pointing at my flip-flops, "you no wear - you fall!"
I know!" said I, indignantly
"Aaaah" she said "you cry" and she gave me a pat.
Since then all the girls have been fussing over me as
if I was an invalid... and an idiot [sigh] - I
probably deserve it.
Tuesday, January 02, 2007
Here!
I'm in the Philippines! It's hot and grimey [I feel right at home] and I'm so jet-lagged I'm having trouble focusing on this screen [yawn]. Woke up bright and early at 1.15am - excellent. Became convinced it must be 1.15pm and I was missing the day! Had to search my bags and find my phone to check [no, I don't know why I didn't look out of the window].
Decent flight[s] - first one was very empty, second one I sat next to a French bloke with excessive elbows. To the naked eye he appeared to have only the usual two [one in each sleeve] but every time I tried to kip he produced more from somewhere. Met a nice Indian chap in Dubai - he was on his way home to [somewhere near] Madras after studying/practising Paediatrics in Russia for 12 years. He said in the early days the Russians had nothing, could get nothing and were very nice people. Recently they can get whatever they want, but cannot afford it, as a result they are driven only by greed and are not happy anymore. I said, "welcome to the First World!"
Right, I need coffee like I've never needed coffee before [yawn]! Where am I again?
Decent flight[s] - first one was very empty, second one I sat next to a French bloke with excessive elbows. To the naked eye he appeared to have only the usual two [one in each sleeve] but every time I tried to kip he produced more from somewhere. Met a nice Indian chap in Dubai - he was on his way home to [somewhere near] Madras after studying/practising Paediatrics in Russia for 12 years. He said in the early days the Russians had nothing, could get nothing and were very nice people. Recently they can get whatever they want, but cannot afford it, as a result they are driven only by greed and are not happy anymore. I said, "welcome to the First World!"
Right, I need coffee like I've never needed coffee before [yawn]! Where am I again?
Friday, December 15, 2006
Thursday, December 07, 2006
Things to Do
I've booked my ticket! I will be flying out of the country on New Years Eve [will see in the NY 35,000ft above Dubai... I hope I get a drink!] What a great way to start a new Year. Feels good.
Of course there's the usual tiresome stuff to do before I leave...
1. Find Passport! Easy - under the bed with all my other important documents.
2. Get visa: Already done! Oh yes, and it's shiney and laminated - mmm mmmm! I do like a Visa that really looks like it means something. I feel slightly cheated with the smudgy stamp one often receives [smile] - it could say anything! How do I show off my global credentials with a blemish?! I'm happy to say, my Filipino Visa looks truly cultivated!
3. Get travel insurance. Ugh - it seems so defeatist to pay for something you don't plan to do. Yes, I understand the logic behind it - but it's giving-in to the inevitability of the Dark Side. I have a sneaking suspicion that if I am not insured, nothing bad will happen to me! [Ha!]
4. Go to the Dentist: ONCE AGAIN! You don't go to the Doctor unless you are ILL! Why do I have to go to the dentist? Huh? Why goddammit?! I last went to the dentist 3 years ago [cos my mother made me!], my previous visit was two years earlier [cos I had tooth-ache - I have no serious ethical objections to this visit, although he did make me watch American cartoons] before that, there was a gap of 16 years [ie. since the last time my mother made me] and you know what? Nothing bad happened! It doesn't make sense, your teeth aren't going be any better just cos some bloke looks at them, are they?
errrrr, what else was there? I'm sure there was more, there's always more... ahhh yes,
5. Learn how to use my camera: this should be easy, after all, the instruction booklet is a veritable epic. The War & Peace of Photography! An Odyssey into Visual Representation! A Saga of Similitude! 1,847 pages of the most intensely boring prose you could ever imagine - o joy. I was going to quote a particularly stodgy bit for effect - but the world doesn't deserve it. Besides, a quote wouldn't convey the sheer scale of it's boringness - pages and pages of it... [sigh]
6. Pack: this is always tough. I have a rough idea. The temptation is to re-pack exactly what I had last time [smile] and to an extent that's what I'll do. But I have to be realistic: quite a few of those items are on their last threads and once I'm wearing them daily they'll fall apart in no time.
Some decisions are easy - I only have 2 pairs of shorts - so they're coming! Some decisions will be hard: there's only room for 1 long-sleeved top. Ay there's the rub. My apple-green hoodie? It's my fave, but thick and doesn't roll up small. My white hoodie? Rolls up small... but it's new - I haven't learnt to love it yet. Or my scruffy blue top - stretched beyond recognition, faded and I adore it, but has no hood! Life is hard.
Now here's a tricky one: I have a favourite t-shirt which I won in a pub [don't ask] in 1996. I love this t-shirt: it fits, it doesn't stretch in the wash and it says 'XLR8' in a tacky-looking stylee on the sleeve - what's not to love! It's been everywhere with me since then... so now it's got 'sentimental value' - which means if it gets nicked I will be upset! So should I leave it behind? But can I go away without it? Yes! These are the things that keep me awake at night!
7. Find out what language they speak in the Philippines. Learn some of it.
I'm being facetious - I've already looked it up. They speak Tagalog, which incorporates some Spanish - which should help me, right? Wrong. The problem is I am not linguistically tuned, but I've been exposed to a lot of languages... and after a while [sorry about this] they all sound the same! My Spanish slips very smoothly into my Franglais! My Greek is remarkably similar to my Indonesian. My Thai - Ha! I actually ORDERED "Cat & Rice" at a food stall. Luckily they realised I'd made a mistake and gave me "Snake on a Stick" instead.
8. Get a plan.
[chortle] I'm joking! That's one thing I'm definitely not taking! The future starts here...
Of course there's the usual tiresome stuff to do before I leave...
1. Find Passport! Easy - under the bed with all my other important documents.
2. Get visa: Already done! Oh yes, and it's shiney and laminated - mmm mmmm! I do like a Visa that really looks like it means something. I feel slightly cheated with the smudgy stamp one often receives [smile] - it could say anything! How do I show off my global credentials with a blemish?! I'm happy to say, my Filipino Visa looks truly cultivated!
3. Get travel insurance. Ugh - it seems so defeatist to pay for something you don't plan to do. Yes, I understand the logic behind it - but it's giving-in to the inevitability of the Dark Side. I have a sneaking suspicion that if I am not insured, nothing bad will happen to me! [Ha!]
4. Go to the Dentist: ONCE AGAIN! You don't go to the Doctor unless you are ILL! Why do I have to go to the dentist? Huh? Why goddammit?! I last went to the dentist 3 years ago [cos my mother made me!], my previous visit was two years earlier [cos I had tooth-ache - I have no serious ethical objections to this visit, although he did make me watch American cartoons] before that, there was a gap of 16 years [ie. since the last time my mother made me] and you know what? Nothing bad happened! It doesn't make sense, your teeth aren't going be any better just cos some bloke looks at them, are they?
errrrr, what else was there? I'm sure there was more, there's always more... ahhh yes,
5. Learn how to use my camera: this should be easy, after all, the instruction booklet is a veritable epic. The War & Peace of Photography! An Odyssey into Visual Representation! A Saga of Similitude! 1,847 pages of the most intensely boring prose you could ever imagine - o joy. I was going to quote a particularly stodgy bit for effect - but the world doesn't deserve it. Besides, a quote wouldn't convey the sheer scale of it's boringness - pages and pages of it... [sigh]
6. Pack: this is always tough. I have a rough idea. The temptation is to re-pack exactly what I had last time [smile] and to an extent that's what I'll do. But I have to be realistic: quite a few of those items are on their last threads and once I'm wearing them daily they'll fall apart in no time.
Some decisions are easy - I only have 2 pairs of shorts - so they're coming! Some decisions will be hard: there's only room for 1 long-sleeved top. Ay there's the rub. My apple-green hoodie? It's my fave, but thick and doesn't roll up small. My white hoodie? Rolls up small... but it's new - I haven't learnt to love it yet. Or my scruffy blue top - stretched beyond recognition, faded and I adore it, but has no hood! Life is hard.
Now here's a tricky one: I have a favourite t-shirt which I won in a pub [don't ask] in 1996. I love this t-shirt: it fits, it doesn't stretch in the wash and it says 'XLR8' in a tacky-looking stylee on the sleeve - what's not to love! It's been everywhere with me since then... so now it's got 'sentimental value' - which means if it gets nicked I will be upset! So should I leave it behind? But can I go away without it? Yes! These are the things that keep me awake at night!
7. Find out what language they speak in the Philippines. Learn some of it.
I'm being facetious - I've already looked it up. They speak Tagalog, which incorporates some Spanish - which should help me, right? Wrong. The problem is I am not linguistically tuned, but I've been exposed to a lot of languages... and after a while [sorry about this] they all sound the same! My Spanish slips very smoothly into my Franglais! My Greek is remarkably similar to my Indonesian. My Thai - Ha! I actually ORDERED "Cat & Rice" at a food stall. Luckily they realised I'd made a mistake and gave me "Snake on a Stick" instead.
8. Get a plan.
[chortle] I'm joking! That's one thing I'm definitely not taking! The future starts here...
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