My Binondo Friends

Binondo is a restless city, stuck in reverse, and set in motion by a flurry of color, noise and feet. It blisters from the friction of heat and skin.

Decades have gone by since 1584 when it was created for the Sangleys, or Chinese Immigrants, yet the past still swelters in the air. A nagging reminder of a Manila that could have been. A Manila that I had yet to see, even if a has-been is the only thing left for me to appreciate.

China Town, Binondo, Divisoria… different names for an enclave people don’t often get excited to see. At the time I didn’t have enough funds for the beach, but I think there are other ways to discover the Philippines.

So, my Binondo Friends, namely Jen, Kevin and myself — we set out to explore the city of half-baked buildings eternally under construction.

The first thing I told Jen and Kevin when we met up at the Ayala MRT Station was “Hassle ng jeans!!!” (It’s a hassle to wear jeans!) It’s too hot to wear jeans, but for girls in Divisoria, it’s even hotter to wear shorts in the eyes of the locals. Nonetheless I tried to dress comfortably, with a baggy shirt, and a big bag for water, money and shopping.

From Ayala we took the train to Recto where we found a jeep to take us to Divisoria.  None of us have taken this route before, but we eventually made our way along the wearisome one hour ride.

First stop was Divisoria, the market district, similar to the Park Square of Makati or Green Hills of the North. Commerce is what Binondo is known for, in the past as a business hub, in the present as the place for cheap buys.

It was a jungle outside and inside Mall 168.

But we are warriors.

And we (fine, I was) ready to make a killing.

According to the Chinese, “168” is a lucky number, and it roughly translates to “road to success,” which probably explains the loot I brought home that day.

Back outside, the sexy shorts were waiting for me.

I didn’t need umbrellas but I thought they were pretty. A rainbow for the rain.

 My parents warned me that I’ll meet all kinds of characters in Binondo, hidden in the stalls of the vendors. Luckily, I spotted some of them first.

Binondo is always on-the-go, with tricycles zooming by, or men with carpets on their shoulders, maneuvering their way through the crowd. I can still hear the buzz amplified by karaoke songs being blasted through the shopkeeper’s speakers.

It’s hard to absorb and capture quirks with one panoramic view. So you focus on the details.

Until you understand that the whole is more than the sum of its parts.

Pop cola, chillin’ together  on a hot summer’s day.  Very Pinoy.

Kevin, tunay na lalaki (real man.)

While making our way to China Town, I saw a horse drawn carriage pass by. “Why don’t we take a calesa,”I suggested,  and we did, which was cooler than taking a trike like originally planned.

Jen: “You’re in China Town when the signs are accompanied with a Chinese translation.

Even in China town, it’s never just chinese, like the rest of the polylingual Philippines.

Finally, authentic Chinese food at Wai Ying Fast Food restaurant, which brought back fond memories of a date I once went on. Here, authenticity is cheap. Even if no roasted duck was available, any kind of mami is a good way to cap off a long and fun day.

Or some macca ice cream.

Perhaps old Manila is a has been,  but our attempt to discover it should never be.

What they wont tell you about Malasimbo but I will

Two girls, pinay, unusually tall for their skin color, getting lost in Malasimbo candidly, instinctively and yes, naively as well.

We sure are ignorant for twenty-something year olds, but our age deceives us. We know. We are too trusting . Everything will turn out all right, we say, excusing ourselves for not being prepared, but secretly smiling at the prospect of adventure.

While most people will tell you about the electro playground, the flashing lights, or the sic beats  of Malasimbo, I’ll tell you about about what happened behind the scenes — of getting off the wrong island; of the long boat rides and overpriced trikes to get to the right one; of 2AM motorcycle rides; of the logistical hassle and cost to get every where you want to go.

The experience was great but Malabo-simbo is more than music.

For those escaping the concrete jungle of Manila, the cruise starts in Batangas Port. No need to look for the kuyas because they are already looking for you. For a P500 round-trip ticket, I assure you, they will find you among the cliques of bohemian dresses and Havianas. They serve as your boarding passes  from the city.

Mej has always been my partner in crime. From childhood, to adolescence and through out college we manage to get ourselves into unusual situations, but this time, luckily, we had a man by our side. Hi Gideon.

White Beach was beautiful, at least temporarily, but most especially in misery. Apparently, without our knowledge, and possibly to theirs, the boatmen dropped us off at the wrong island. “We’ll take you back to Sabang Beach,” they said, “For P600!”

Our ignorance had a price, but we weren’t willing to pay. At least, not yet.

In the mean time we grabbed lunch, some drinks, and played a round of monopoly deal while we figured out plan b, c, and god-forbid, plan d. We could always swim there, proposed Mej. I laughed, and just enjoyed the beach side view instead while mulling the idea over.

Fine, we admit that we should have planned the trip better, but misfortune is never a reason to stop, only to frown (for awhile.) Hey, at least we were resourceful! We hopped on a P300 trike that cost more than a cab back in Manila.

While Gideon and his friend sat upfront, Mej and I crashed in the backseat, exhausted from travelling, and a general lack of sleep, which is not something I advise before a trip.

Short naps in obscure places like the boat, or the trike, was not enough  for the additional walking and boat ride after the trike, because apparently, we were still not at our resort.

Luckily the trip picked up when we met up with Arbie later on, who’s not just an adventurer, but a trooper for going to Malasimbo on his own. That’s why we’re (more than?) friends. Haha, just kidding. I still love you, Arbie.

After drinking some beer in White Beach we left for Malasimbo to drink some more beer! Again, it was another pricey ride up to Mount  Malasimbo, which cost around P60 pesos per person.

But as the hipsters would say, what price is there for art?

For pulsating music?

Picture by Chaco Cruz

For a community of individuals, together, as one?

While itwas Ateneo de Malasimbo everywhere I also ran into Anton, an old friend from Jakarta, elementary and high school. Yes, we were nostalgic, but we were also mature, talking about the future, the Philippines, our hopes, and our dreams. As he quoted from Malcolm Gladwell I thought about how much he grew up since his baggy-jean days, while I, on the other hand, was still pretty much the same, he said. Still adventurous, still busy.

It was 1 in the morning when I went back to my friends who were laying down on the grass with everyone else. We caught the last jeepney shuttle to Sabang.  We were too tired to care about the price. We wanted to go home.

Inside, the foreigners in the jeep took a picture of the Filipinos resting their inebriated heads on their arms, which hung like elephant trunks from the bar above. They didn’t know that I saw them, between half-closed eyes.

It was 2 in the morning when we finally arrived, not at our resort, but at the last shuttle stop.  Since there weren’t any trikes or boats available, for P100 we did what other foolish twenty-something year old’s could do at god-knows-what-time in god-knows-where: ride a motorcyle.

Each of us clung to our kuya’s back, even the boys, to make sure we didn’t fall off . This time, I looked toward the night engulfing my sight, with eyes wide open. I’ve never ridden on a motorcycle before.

After some beer, and coffee to wake us up the next morning, Gideon, Mej and I left Malasimbo with one thought only: We survived.

Related links:

Malasimbo Magic

Good vibes at the Malasimbo Music and Arts Festival

Note: This trip took place last March 3-4, 2012. Malasimbo was great but since it’s a relatively new tourist destination make sure you do your research beforehand, which we learned the hard way on this trip. They will over-charge you if you don’t know where you’re going and how to get there. The prices I mentioned are from  memory, and not 100% exact. But other wise, it’s more fun in Malasimbo! 

Buhay Baler!

Last November 5 to 7 felt like a reunion of sorts. Four childhood best friends escaped to Baler for the long weekend — a long over due post-adolescence trip that they haven’t yet taken since finally getting over puberty.

It was the first complete out of town trip that Lena, Mej, Jobim and I have went on together. The occasion was to celebrate Lena’s 21st birthday, which is odd because I feel like she was 21 long before I was. Lena was always so mature, even back when we were 15.

My other reunion was with the beach, a place I wish would never feel like such a stranger. I used to go out of town  more often until issues over money broke us apart — at least temporarily. Until I can afford the luxury of flying and traveling without sacrificing how to get by daily (I live in a dorm. It’s difficult), and my future (I’m middle class. It’s difficult), I have to be picky. Similar to why I’m still single, I don’t want to pick just any place to travel. It has to be worth the expense.

Baler is located in the province of Aurora and considered to be a surfing paradise. It’s about a 5 to 6 hour drive from Quezon city, which is why we left at around 2:30 in the morning and arrived past 8. Upon arrival, once the Pacific Ocean greets you, all you want to do is follow the path leading to the water.

A typhoon was passing by so it was raining on our first day there. Since it was too dangerous to swim or surf, Jairus took out the ukelele instead…

… while the rest of us sang along.

Monopoly Deal is also another fantastic way to pass the time. Too much time actually.

But I don’t care (about Monopoly deal, among other things.)

We tried to wake up at 6AM to catch the morning surf.  Since we were roughin’ it on this trip, we made mac and cheese… with cheese wiz. Mac and Cheeze Whiz tastes just as good.

Finally, the rain subsided. The men — Jairus, Ziggie and Bruce– they didn’t waste any time grabbing their surfboards.  Like the locals, surfing is part of their life.

The story behind Baler is like a movie —  an epilogue to Apocalypse to be exact. They filmed part of it in Baler and the crew left surfboards behind which the locals starting using!

I wish I had a picture of me surfing. I feel like an extra. Boo!

Beer with Jobim — the boy who used to get mad at me for drinking, but we’re not kids anymore and all we do is drink!

Buhay Baler! Buhay Beer!

The birthday girl and I had enough surfing for one day.

There are other beautiful and simple things to enjoy — like friendship.

Jobim’s rolling his eyes at me. I’m always so dramatic daw.

Enjoying the last of the trip, the view, the surf, the peace, before we have to wash up and leave.

 Aside from surfing, you can also visit and climb the biggest Balete tree I’ve ever seen. 30? feet.  It’s where all the aswangs and the dwendes play. Just kidding.

My avatar is here to find the meaning of life — happiness and joy!

And love.

Love, in all forms.

Lunch at a karenderia to complete the local experience.

Indeed the trip felt like a reunion of sorts. A childhood captured in 4 friends. A friendship both nostalgic and new.

Gyud Times

Sembreak 2010, October 17-21. Cagayan De Oro

Last summer a small group of friends were sitting in the cafeteria wanting to do something awesome over the break. After much idle planning, finally we pushed through to Bacolod, which was one of the best trips I’ve ever had in my life.

Fast forward to now, sembreak 2010, and I have yet another fantastic trip to add: 5 days, a mix of friends and seemingly random strangers and acquaintances going on 1 adventure.

Who would’ve thought that one moment on a humid day in the Ateneo could grow into something like this? And take me to places like Bacolod, Cagayan De Oro, Camiguin doing things like white water rafting, zip lining and cliff diving?

All it takes is one, whether that’s as a small group or one person to initiate something potentially amazing. You never know where and with whom that one initiative can take you. As for me, I couldn’t imagine what my college life would’ve been without it.

Click to see where it took us this break!

Another Adventure Awaits!

My sembreak itinerary:

October…

• 17-21 : Cagayan De Oro with friends
• 22-24: ACOMM plevsem in Tagaytay
• 25-30: ASLA Leadership Seminar in Antipolo

Although I’m a bit sad that I have to wait two weeks in order to be a bum at home, I am quite excited. I need to be shaken up right now.

Its going to a pretty busy & intense 2 weeks but when I come back I’ll surely have tons more stories to tell.

Makati Skylines – STATUS Day 12

Sorry for the surge of blogs but I’m feeling particularly inspired, trigger happy and busy this week! I stayed home tonight mostly to update this haha.

Anyways the office is situated in the heart of the bustling metropolitan that is makati where the skylines soar as high as the salaries of the rich business tycoons fueling the city.

Occasionally during lunch break Gio and I venture out into this concrete jungle to absorb more than the scorching global warming enhanced summer heat. I’ve never really minded walking to places because the world feels, sounds and looks like a different place on foot. You notice its peculiarities and flaws that oddly make you love where you’re from even more.

Suddenly along the way I wondered how it would feel like to get hit by a bus and whether I could still look like a rockstar ala Regina George. With buses and jeeps weaving in and out of the streets you can’t blame the thought for jaywalking across my mind.

Today we went to Coffee Bean so click to see what we saw along the way.