Wednesday, December 25, 2013

Christmas in Manila

Uy, I'm exhausted. I have done little here in Manila but live in my little privileged bubble and listen to people talk about the various scandals and "accidents" taking place in the Philippines. Like the bus that crashed through the barriers on the Skyway (one of Manila's major roads) on the 16th of December, flipping over on its back as it crashed on the road below. I believe most of the passengers died, the bus driver was decapitated. Or the shooting in Ninoy Aquino Airport (the one in Manila) which killed Mayor Talumpa and his family. It is debated whether the shooting took place inside or outside the terminal. There are varying degrees of disagreement on this point, but still, there's definitely an issue of airport security being brought into question.

Then there's the rampant corruption (but it's all very hush hush) particularly around the foreign relief money and goods being sent over to the victims of the typhoon in Tacloban. Sure there is some awareness that corruption is a definite threat and barrier - you can read more about it in the Philippine Star - but really, it's not just about making sure the money and relief goods get to those most affected, but also about making sure those in power locally do everything they can to facilitate this. Unfortunately, from what I understand, most residents of Tacloban are in direct opposition (and always have been) to the political party of the current president, and those in power aren't too willing to lend a helping hand because of this. Sure, there are many campaigns being publicized all over Manila, on the radio and TV, urging people make donations for those in Tacloban, but there is very little logistical support being offered.What is the point of sending lots of aid (man power and material) if the local government isn't prepared to put it to good use?

Imagine you are a volunteer heading off to provide some much needed help. You arrive at Tacloban airport ready to get to work delivering food, water and blankets to those who need it most, ready to build appropriate sustainable housing, only to find that nothing has cleared customs. After about a month, the materials finally clear customs, and you realize no logistical support is offered for storage, transportation, security, sanitation etc because the papers haven't been signed. What papers? This is the first you hear about this. You ask the organization  you are working with to help, but there is only so much they can do. Beaurocracy is beaurocracy and it is not within your policy to offer bribes. So you sit on your ass and do nothing but wait. You wait as more relief piles in, more materials and money appear, and somehow as you wait, the large pile of goods becomes starts getting smaller. By the time someone somehow manages to get the goods released, and some sort of support and transportation, you go to pick up the stash, and realize it has been reduced to a third of its original size.

This is an imaginary situation. I am not a frustrated volunteer in Tacloban, but the truth is this is probably what is happening there right now.

It's definitely more fun in the Philippines.
Merry Christmas.

Friday, December 20, 2013

Puerto Galera, Calapan and Mike's Beach - Mindoro Oriental

For lack of a better name, I'm calling the place where I've been staying for the past week, "Mike's Beach" because it was actually Mike's beach. And a lovely one at that.

Mike's Beach, Mindoro Oriental, PH


Today was a travel day, a non-day at best where you wake up at some ridiculous hour in the morning feeling drowsy and ever so slightly naseous from lack of sleep, forcing yourself through the motions of bathroom, dressing, packing and eating because you know that if you don't you'll regret it later. Nothing screams "I told  you so" louder than a stinking, garishly pink bathroom with piss speckled toilet seats and no running water on 50 tonne rust bucket of a ferry in the middle of a turbulent ocean. But hey, at least they had a toilet.

Before this charming view of the ladies room however, the journey wasn't so bad. Once you get over the initial drowsiness and lack of willingness to do anything, early morning starts are pretty great. The air is fresh and cool, a great plus in the jungle tropics, birds twitter and sqwak animatedly, crickets chirp softly, tuko geckos call out in their characteristic manner "t̟ɔʔ' ku...t̟ɔʔ' ku". Sunlight begins to peek over the horizon, and the streets are empty save a few stray dogs with a death wish scattered on the winding roads. Surprisingly, the roads on Mindoro Oriental island are in excellent condition - smooth concrete, no pot-holes, wide enough for two lanes - their only fault being the fact they don't always join up. So one road will go all the way round the island one way, but then suddenly stop and end in the middle of the jungle. If you want to reach your desired destination, it is then necessary to take a detour all the way around the other side of the jungle island. This isn't a problem though as long as you know what's coming.

Continuing on the fresh aired tour of the jungle, you'll pass a large roaring waterfall which drowns out all other natural sounds. Occasionally, a wasp like motorcycle will roar past you throwing up exhaust fumes in your face, and you will curse at them until the pollutant particles subside. Once out of the jungle, nearer to the port, level rice fields replace the creeping jungle, turning the ground around you into the multi-coloured sky of a sunrise. Clouds break and sunlight slowly illuminates the world around you, water buffalos snuffling their way lazily through the mud.

Calapan port itself is like any other little village, in fact very similar to those of Central America. Lots of beaurocracy, tiny pieces of coloured paper and ferry fares later, and you're on a boat, oblivious of the fact that this giant vessel is a potential deathtrap for so many reasons. Second hand, recycled gift boats from China, Japan etc. dating from t he 70s should really be updated in my opinion. Then again, you don't always take a proper look at the giant machine until after you've arrived on the other side, en route to the  wonderous traffic and pollution of Manila.

So why was I in Mindoro Oriental, traversing the jungle at an early hour? Hidden away in little bays full of mangroves around the island are little private beaches and houses. Puerto Galeras itself, on the north of the island, is very popular with foreigners and retired expats who will build themselves nice private houses for their own benefit as well as that of others (for a small fee of couse). The diving in this area is also great, as are other watersports in general. If you know where you're going, you could do a lot worse than retreating to another island in the Philippine archipelago for a break from Manila.

In case you were wondering, no, I did not see any lions, tigers or bears in the jungle. I did however see a four giant sea turtles, one which was munching contedly on some purple coral, two sea snakes, an electric shell - it's actually electric, don't ask me how - a komodo dragonesque creature, wild dogs, a spiky flounder like fish, and countless geckos.

Sunday, November 17, 2013

Volcanic Iceland

My life long quest to climb to the crater of volcano has been fulfilled. It only took 26 years and a hop and skip over to the lovely island of Iceland, and it was definitely worth the wait. The name Grabrok will be imprinted in my memory as the name of the volcano that forever changed my life. Joke, I will probably have forgotten that name by the time I go to sleep tonight, but that's only because I have a terrible memory.

Iceland was really great fun. I stayed with my friend Jade and a lovely Icelandic family with an adorable 5 year old son name Greta.. You can hear him proudly singing about the different colours of the rainbow in Icelandic on the Language Landscape website. In addition, below is a different kind of map, inspired by the use of Greta's crayola crayons. It shows the various exploratory routes taken during our stay, starting from the midnight journey from Keflavik to Borgarnes.


If you know anything about Iceland, you can see that I have not included any of the main tourist attractions which are located in the southern part of Iceland, otherwise known as the "Golden Triangle". That is because I did not go to this part, *GASP* rather spent most of my time hanging about Borgarnes, indulging in wonderful hospitality, rich culture and cosy (huggulegt) atmosphere. I throroughly recommend visiting Borgarnes and spending a couple days getting to know the area and the lovely people. Think farmer's markets, meeting the lovely mothers and grannies who make those wonderful Icelandic sweaters, and spectacular mountain views. I have to admit that after spending a week basking in the views of Borgarnes, I was slightly let down by Reykjavik. Although it is a quirky, vibrant city overflowing with creativity and light-hearted banter, it offers very little compared to the energy and magnetism you acquire from spending time in the mountains. Then again, I do love my landscapes.

Other than the trip to Grabrok, we also explored the Snaefells Penninsula which has its own mini glacier, hot springs as well as volcanic fields and beaches. Part of the magic of exploring the landscapes of Iceland are the stories which accompany each rock formation (the troll who had a tantrum and threw a bunch of rocks into the fjord) haunted farm-house (Iceland's last serial killer lived in Budir in the 1800s), and fjord (the man who was turned into a whale by a fairy as a form of punishment for being greedy and not helping his fellow countrymen in times of need).  I only wish I had had my audio recorder on me at all times to document all the stories I heard.



Monday, October 21, 2013

Portugal - Caves and Dinosaurs

Seriously beautiful caves, dinosaurs footprings, markets full of goat cheese, fresh olives, figs, absolutely massive food portions, port, 65 centavos for an espresso, 1 euro for a beer - who wouldn't want to live in Portugal?

Part of the fun of visiting new countries for me is the excitement and delight of tasting everything. Nothing beats going to a bakery, or a pasteleria in this case, first thing in the morning before people head off to work to join the line of old men standing hunched over the wooden counter enjoying their bica (espresso). The owner of the establishment doesn't even blink at the sight of two foreign girls timidly tinkling their way into the shop. He simply makes us two bicas and places them on the counter, gesturing they are for our consumption. Some pasteis de nata and orange pastries later, we head back to the science center for serious linguistic conversations.

Centro Ciencia Viva do Alviela is a science center situated on the Praia Fluvial dos Olhos d'Agua do Alviela (The fluid beach of the eyes of the Alviela waters - is the literal translation, but basically it sits next to a river which goes through a large natural park). The park itself is great for going on day treks, and the science center offers visitors a place to stay for very affordable prices, as well as light refreshements, and a themed ride for all members of the population who are over 1.2m tall. You get to ride an asteroid.

While staying at the science centre is very affordable, it can be difficult to access by anything other than car, and while it does offer some services, the one shops opening times are from 10:00-19:00. So it's best to come prepared. The nearby town Alcanena has plenty of shopping opportunities, bakeries, restaurants and wool shops to keep your heart content. The centre of the town is made up of an old church, a market which is open on weekends, and various hair dressers. 

All around this area are various caves, or grutas, such as Mira de Aire which are also worthwhile seeing, especially when you get to have a full five course dinner in one of these. I have a sneaky suspicion such dinners may only be for special occasions though. Even if you're not having a spectacular meal however, you will have spectacular views of underground rivers and fountains, and caves that are tactfully lit with warm light, and might even find some unique fossils and dinosaur teeth. 

Lastly, and by far my favorite experience were the dinosaur footprints. Driving another half hour north from Alcanena and Minde, towards a town called Fatima, you will get lost and end up going on a free urban tourist tour of rural Portugal. I'm not kidding, there are actually signs which sign post this route as the "urban tourist tour". It is a sweet little tour which takes you through old villages. You see plently of ancient olive trees, tiny houses and churches made of white stone squares which look like they could crumble into a pile at any moment, as well as sheep and cows. Eventually though, you will arrive at a derelict looking park with old iron structures representing sauropods, pay the three euro entrance fee and embark on the most exciting 40 minutes of your life. If you're into dinosaurs that is. Even if you are not that impressed by dinosaurs, you will be impressed by the view of the Portuguese country side from atop a high marble cliff, not to mention the fact that you actually get to step in dinosaur footprints. Your foot will be inside a giant dinosaur footprint. I'm excited just remembering the experience. I'm so excited I'm finding it very difficult to NOT write in caps. Definitely one of my top 100 experiences.

VISIT PORTUGAL!

Tuesday, August 20, 2013

Beaumaris Castle, Chester and Trwyn Du Lighthouse

The adventure in Wales continues as a slightly painful, disastrous experience, somehow juxtaposed against beautiful scenery and mystical castles. I am beginning to understand how the stereotype of a rugged grumpy Welshman has come to be. So if you ever find yourself in northern Wales, I suggest you take the opportunity to breath in plenty of fresh air, take long miserable walks, and surrender yourself to the peace and tranquility that surrounds you.

Of course, peace and tranquility are great and everything, but there's only so much poignant riverside meditation and sheep watching you can do, so I suggest you take a wander around these places as well:

Beaumaris Castle - I'm not a huge fan of castles. They're a bit like churches or temples if you ask me, but Beaumaris Castle is definitely worth a visit. It is one of the most complete castles in Wales, and I am told it is a beautiful sample of Edwardian architecture. Even if you're not that into architecture, it is a really great interactive experience, its numerous walls and tunnels offering plenty of opportunities to explore and let your imagination run wild. Once you make it out of the dark slightly creepy tunnels within the castle walls, you can meander on top of these same walls and enjoy the refreshing green-ness of surrounding fields. You can easily spend an hour if not more at this site. It is also child friendly and has mini playground with a bouncy castle next door.

Chester - Although not technically a Welsh city, at least a fourth of it is in Wales so it counts. It is home to the Chester racecourse, known as Roodee, the oldest racecourse still in use in England. Races take place throughout the year, with special racing festivals in August and May. These offer a great chance to don your best heels and grandest hats, and make like Eliza Doolitle and holler "move yer bloomin' arse!" at passing strangers (or horses). Aternatively, you can wander around and admire the wonderfully preserved and restored medieval architecture, and walk a top the city walls.

Trwyn Du Lighthouse - A visit to the lighthouse on a beautiful day is like stepping into a picture postcard. Your frustrations instantly melt away as soon as you step onto those white pebbles and feel the heat of the overhead sun. It is a great place for lounging, reading, drawing, flying kites or crab fishing.  Across the water you will also see Puffin Island, the ninth largest island off the coast of Wales and more excitingly, a Special Protection Area for coastal wild life such as Puffins and Great Cormorants. If you look hard enough you might even catch site of one (or both) of the seals that live in the bay.


Friday, August 16, 2013

Bangor and the Eisteddfod, Wales

I have shingles. Sigh. It is the most painful horrible thing ever and it is definitely making me hate Wales a tiny bit. And traveling. It is also making me question my fascination with traveling. One of these days I will post about the dangers of traveling, as well as my top ten countries worth visiting.

First, a bit on the magical Eisteddfod of Wales.

Pronounced es-TETH-vod, the Eisteddfod is a festival which takes place in Wales every year around the first week of August. It is a national festival, a time when all Welsh clans gather, travelling from all parts of the country, and even all parts of the world such as Welsh Patagonia, to celebrate and declare the strength and vitality of the Welsh language and culture. Within the grounds of the Eisteddfod, you are in a different world, a magical world of druids and bards, dragons and soothsayers. At least that is what I'm assuming it was like back in the 12th century when the festival tradition began. The druid tradition is still followed to the extent that ceremonial gatherings such as the awarding of the chair for poetry (an actual chair at that), is overseen by an Archdruid and her council of 150+ other druids, all dressed the part and all scholars of the Welsh language, music, or literature. Poetic bards are called upon to entertain the crowds with lyrical mastery between speeches at ceremonies. Dragon cheese and ale are popular (so good), and although there was no sign of any soothsayers, there was a mysterious procession of people shrouded in white with skeletal horse masks on.

While many traditions are of pagan origin, the stone circle left behind on site each year, many new ones have been incorporated over the years, such as the flamboyant giant of a pink tent at the centre of the grounds. It draws attention from all directions, screaming to be seen yet peacefully sitting amongst rolling green fields and white fluffy sheep. The festival is a very large event, one which requires a year's planning and fund-raising to organize. It is something for young and old, and refreshingly, it is something which all generations truly seem to enjoy taking part in. Young boys and girls eagerly practice their steps for the traditional clog dancing competitions, modern theater and art performances are available for viewing. Older people interact with non-Welsh tourists in Welsh taster classes, and even academic and political discussions are organized to debate the future of the Welsh language and culture. There is something very special about the way visitors of the Eisteddfod interact, the joy and laughter which permeats the air, and the general sense of acceptance of the self, the specially designated areas for children to run and scream and destroy things. A truly ingenious use of haystacks.

As an outsider it is really refreshing to see a culture within a larger nation which strives to maintain its identity, and enjoys doing so. My observations may be slightly skewed of course, but that is certainly what it feels like within the rose tinted tent.

 More information about next year's Eisteddfod can be found here.



Tuesday, August 6, 2013

Nazi bunkers, fishing and oil rigs

So I'm back in Europe, but this does not mean I have stopped travelling. In fact, I'm travelling more than ever, nearly to the point of delusional exhaustion which results in me walking into doors. Safe to say I'm happy that I will be in ONE place for a whole three weeks. Amazing.

This one
At the end of June I went to Norway to visit that one there > and had a great time. It was beautiful. I discovered that fjords in Norway are everywhere (it is one of those things you have to see to believe) and the people are lovely, albeit slightly sceptical of my very obvious foreign-ness. They are also very tall. I have never felt smaller than when surrounded by tall blonde Norwegians in blue blazers in a cramped bar in Stavanger. It's not like you exactly care though when you're in the company of good friends and you're all acting a bit loopy on the dance floor.

Stavanger is the cutest little seaside town/city. It is technically a city, because it has a cathedral, but it really feels more like a town. Especially when you see a giant cruise ship docked in the harbor towering over the wee wooden pubs and houses. Old Stavanger lies on the left of the harbour if you're facing inland, and is comprised of tiny white wooden houses, tiny flower gardens and cobbled streets which lead you up the hill to the tinned mackerel museum. Very cool and interesting if you're into old labels and adverts, but it was enough just to see the free exhibit at the front. To the right of the harbour are pubs, restaurants and more meandering cobbled streets which lead you to more pubs and restaurants.  

I would like to say that many Norwegian stereotypes apply. People are tall, blonde and outdoorsy. They dress very smart in navy blue blazers, or practical down jackets and wind breakers. A trip to the coast includes a fishing trip on a boat. Rocks and boulders resemble trolls and wooded areas look like they were taken straight out of an illustrated fairy tale book about the animals of the forest. Unexpected factors of this trip included the sheer number of pale peach jelly fish in the sea, the exploration of spooky nazi bunkers on the cliffs of Hausvik, and the horrible monster of a hangover that I had after drinking one too many øls. Locals beers are delicious. I particularly recommend the White Dog Lervig øl from Stavanger.



Finally, the landscape. I think this is where I finally understood the utter fascination some artists have with landscapes. Don't get me wrong. I have always enjoyed a good view, but never really understood why. Then standing on the side of a cliff peering out into the ocean, I realized that nothing compares to that feeling you get when you are confronted by the sheer size of the world in comparison to your tiny self. There is nothing that compares to standing on top of a rock or a mountain surrounded by nothing but scenery, giant jagged rocks plunging into a sapphire coloured ocean, bright blue sky above you, wind whipping at your hair and waves crashing against the rocks below you. And then the technological addiction kicks in and I understood the frustration so many landscape artists must have felt as the tried, and still try, to reproduce an image of their surroundings. Try as I may, no picture will ever capture that feeling. But a drawing might.





Sunday, August 4, 2013

Summer travels

This year so far, has been all about travelling. I regret not having kept this blog going for the past couple months, because even though I am not discovering new joys of residing in the Philippines anymore, it does not mean I have stopped discovering the joys of adventure travels! This month, from tomorrow onwards, I will be residing in Bangor, Wales - working and learning new geeky linguisticky things, but also hopefully exploring the coast, going to ancient druid festivals, and getting my surf on. At least learning to. My aim for the next three weeks then, is to post at least one blog per country missed in the past two months (Vietnam, UK, Norway and Germany), plus the Welsh adventures. Ambitious I know, but at least I'll get some done.

Currently I am in Germany, enjoying some home time and eating hearty and delicious german bread, butter, potatoes and beer with a bit of extreme gardening on the side. I know I'm biased, but sometimes there isn't anything better than that. I leave you with pictures of the lovely German countryside which is one of my homes:







Thursday, May 30, 2013

Ghosts and children of the coal mines

Today was full of adventure. Creepy and exciting adventure which I'm going manipulate to sound even more exciting than it actually was, because that's just how I roll. I kid. I would never do that.

So. Adventure...

The day started in a panic with my mother yelling at me hurry up and get showered because we were leaving in 15. Ten minutes later, showered, packed and ready to go, I find out this was a lie. We had a whole half hour to spare. So I mosied down to the mouse infested "cafeteria" and ordered myself something for the most important meal of the day, only to be served rubbery egg on crustless white bread. Delicious. Two hours later we arrived at our seaside destination of Bislig, on the eastern shoreline of Mindanao island. As always, that first glimpse of the ocean is immensely exciting for me. Being at true sea level and seeing that massive body of water, waves gently lapping at the sand in friendly greeting, but with a body so vast and overwhelming at the same time.

Bislig has the feel of your typical sea-side town: dry, hot and salty. Life has a slow-paced, lazy aura about it. The sun is hot and blistering, but a warm breeze from the ocean keeps the palm trees in constant motion. This aside, the city is mostly built on marshland, so houses are built on bamboo or wooden stilts, and long thin kayak like boats are used to navigate the marshy waters. Houses are made of wood, and freely decorated with potted plants, trees and vines, as well as an assortment of useful fishing gear and fishing produce. A long heavy bridge has been built over these houses and the marsh to connect non-marshland with the concrete political and transportation center of the town. This is as far as I got. Again, two hours later after suitable transportation (although this was also a lie as was found out later - transportation was not suitable) was negotiated, we made way for Sikahuy, a village center of one of the combated tribal lands of Surigao del Sur.

These tribal lands are a very rich source of natural resources which private companies have taken advantage of in the past. The trees that grow in this area, large, white, bare trees are an excellent source of paper, and their forests have been largely exploited in the past. Hence the view of greatly reduced, ghostly white forests of felled trees. The activities of the paper company are no longer, due to possible bankruptcy, or the appearance of a larger source of income, coal. I do not know. Today however, privately owned miniature coal shafts can be founded dotted all along the now barren lands. These are open to curious explorers accompanied by chatty and equally curious semi-land owners. I do not really recommend entering a coal shaft in the middle of the day, in a hot and humid environment. It is already quite a cramped and uncomfortable experience even for the smallest of people, but temperatures are much higher down there. This is not only uncomfortable for the self, the the extreme heat can loosens the soil which is not the safest for climbing, and can result in walls caving in. The locals like to attribute the sounds of trickling soil and falling rocks to the presence of ghosts of dead miners, but my companion quickly assured me that a true catholic does not believe in such things. Really?

After the sweltering dusty mines, we discovered a little stream, surprisingly clear and healthy. Four little boys were jumping around naked and happy in the natural pools, quite astonished at my white, barefooted presence, but openly friendly and unihibited. After demanding a quick picture, they went back to their games and wrestling and I made my way back to the village. More exploring lead to the discovery of a church, two schools and health centre, all which have been constructed with the help of coal money...

Wednesday, May 29, 2013

Indigenous Filipino words and concepts

It didn't take long for the linguist/anthropologist in me to start asking language and culture related questions and start annoying people. Tagalog is the main language spoken in the Philippines, but in Mindanao, the most widely spoken language is Visaya, otherwise known as Cebuano. Here is some of what I have uncovered so far from basic observations and patient answers from locals:

Balun - Cebuano. A well or other man-made source of water. It is a public space used to collect water for consumption, irrigation and bathing. They are commonly found along national roads.

Bolo - Cebuano. Like a machete, but slightly thinner with a curved tip. Excellent for cutting coconuts.

Brigada - English origin. Originates from word, brigade. It refers to a community driven group of people who come together to perform community service activities such as building, cleaning and painting public schools and buildings.

Cemeterio - Spanish origin. Public cemeteries are a remnant of the Spanish conquest. Previously, Cebuanos would hang their dead from trees, declaring the area sacred and impassable for a year. Other burial practices include hollowing out the trunk of a tree and using this as a casket to bury the dead underground. Traditionally, all burial grounds were considered sacred, but since Spanish rule, the concept of public cemeteries has become widely accepted. As a result, public cemeteries, cement blocks shaded by rattan structures, can be found dotted along national roads and highways.

Inahan - Cebuano. Mother.

Purok - Cebuano. A covered wooden structure with built in seating which serves as a community meeting point. It is a public space for members of the same community to meet and chat, particularly after lunch or late afternoon. You'll find these dotted along the national highway, and are very common. These wooden structures can provide an insight into the community's organisational structure and social relations. A well constructed and designed purok indicates the presence of a strong and unified community. Additional decorations such as tribal markings, gardens, or accompanying sources of water, may also be indicative of this.

Rattan - Cebuano. Thin vines from the forest used to make furniture, baskets, and traditional housing. Some also use the rattan vines as calendars. Rattan furniture is exported all over the world, but is becoming an increasingly scarce commodity for local indigenous tribes as preference is given by the government to logging companies and traders.

That is all for now. More to come!

Saturday, May 25, 2013

Agusan del Sur, Mindanao

Life got interesting all of sudden. The past week was spent exploring the second largest island of the Philippines, Mindanao. Arriving in Butuan, promptly heading on to Agusan del Sur and Esperanza, there was plenty of adventure to be had. I am once again in my element, exploring the nitty gritty details that different cultures have to offer.

Wah Wah River, Agusan del Sur, Mindanao
I have been on three hour long boat rides down the Wah Wah river which make you wish you had more padding down there. This boat ride opened doors to meeting indigenous leaders of the area, taking part in a traditional ceremony and offerings, all in the name of preserving biodiversity and reducing indigenous conflict in the area. Very interesting. Mindanao is very rich in natural resources which is a source of conflict given the various indigenous groups, politicians, as well as mining and logging companies who wish to monopolize and make use of these resources. It seems efforts are being made to return these rich lands to the local indigenous communities for preservation, but politics is always complicated. We'll see what happens.

Man harvesting coconuts
Work aside, mountain trails have offered spectacular views of deliciously refreshing rivers you wish you could plunge head first into. The local people are kind, surprisingly open to vegetarian diets, promptly offering a variety of different potatoes, bananas (saba), yams (camote), freshly cut coconut, and all different kinds of edible leaves. I'm loving hiking along the mountain trails and having all different kinds of edible leaves pointed out to me. The only downside is that in an effort to show you how amazing their home land is, the local people will not necessarily tell you about the poisonous plants or animals you may encounter. This is not very good when you're going to the bathroom in the bush and brush delicate areas against potentially rash inducing plants.

Next week we will travel on to Bislig, on the south-eastern coast of Mindanao.




Monday, May 20, 2013

Hong Kong duck and Macau

Miniature vesion of mega duck. Not the same.
So I don't know if any of you have heard of the giant rubber duck that one day decided to leave the tepid waters of its bathtub, spread its wings and travel the world, but this duck is my hero. Seriously. The artist as well of course. What an ingenious idea. And since I'm on this side of the world, I thought, "hey, why not pop over to Hong Kong for the weekend and see this amazing duck"? So I did. In fact, my whole family did. The four of us bought tickets and flew 1hr 20min from Manila to Hong Kong to see the giant rubber duck that graces Victoria Harbour's waters. And what happens? The same day we arrive, some giant asshole decides to take all of their impotent rage out on a poor innocent duck and stab him mercilessly until he is reduced to a sad deflated version of his former self.

Mega sad face.

Well, since the duck was down for "maintenance" we did other things instead like rediscover the family roots and meet up with relatives we didn't even know we had. Which was fun. I like meeting cool relatives who are just as adventurous and full of life. They enjoy laughing just as much as the next person. Tim Chiu is one such relative, my mother's cousin on my grandmother's side, who lives in Macau. Usually I wouldn't recommend visiting Macau for all its glamorous and shiny casinos, but I would recommend it if you went to visit Tim and his version of the city. Old Macau is beautiful and historic, full of interesting alleys, old, run-down sky scrapers, humid and wet.

Cousins and Inti with bamboo stick
I may not be painting the most appealing images, but the beauty of Macau, is that if you really take the time, you will discover the historic Portuguese influence on the development of the city. The street signs are made of white and blue tiles. Detailed iron work decorates the old apartment buildings that tower over the old quarter. In the middle of the city, you'll find a surprisingly large park, carefully hidden away into the side of the mountain. At the top of this mountain, you will come across a tiny church and lighthouse combo and 360 view of the city. The two buildings are very simple, with minimal decorations, but the amount of care and effort that has been put into preserving these two buildings is impressive. I wish more people cared about historic buildings.

Run down the forrested mountain, leaping over waist-high white walls that line the city's paths, and you'll find your way to St. Paul's ruin, another impressive colonial gate like structure in the old quarter. Worth the walk, especially if you still have enough energy to march up another hill past the historic museum to wander around the old fortress. Picture another old concrete, mossy structure, with overhanging trees and vines, and giant canons. Very peaceful compared to St. Paul's.

There are more adventures to write about, but I will leave it here for now. I have to pack for Phillipine adventures in Butuan, my next destination.

Chinese-Portuguese fusion

Tuesday, May 14, 2013

A typical day in Manila


“Ebany?”
“Yes?”
“Are you ok?”
“Yes?”
“What are you doing up there?”

Mom peers round the doorframe with a sleepy/perplexed look of concern on her face.  I do believe there are stranger things than finding your 25 year old daughter perched on a bathroom sink in the middle of the night, hunched over a laptop and manically typing away, curly ringlets galore. I quite literally have an afro right now, it’s that humid.

“Writing.”
“Ok, well don’t kill yourself with any electrical appliances.”
“Ok.”

And so starts the narration of my day.

I have been struggling to come up with a suitable topic to introduce the Philippines, which has proved to be more difficult than expected. Somehow, I’m finding it a challenge to gear myself up enough to write about shopping malls and bad traffic with enthusiasm. So I’m going to write about myself. And my day. And the most exciting thing that has happened since I ARRIVED HERE. Which is…drumroll please…the arrival of my little sister, Inti and thus the promise of countless hours of entertainment. Finally.
I’m telling you, it does not take that many visits to malls (supermarkets included) to fill up my shopping quota for the year.

So what does a typical day in Manila constitute?

9:00am – Wake up drenched in sweat. Fanny about for 15 minutes trying to disentangle self from bedding. Hair looks AWESOME. Drink water.

10am – Yoga followed by much needed hydration and shower.

11am – Make breakfast for self. Sweat lots. Half an hour later mom comes into kitchen asking “What’s for lunch?” Make lunch for parental unit.

12-2pm – Hottest hour of the day. Will hide in coolest, darkest room to do computer work, usually the tiled bathroom or the floor. Needy cat finds me and decides to make sure as much of its fur as possible sticks to the human. This is not very difficult for him and very annoying.

2:30pm – Mom rushes into deep dark cavern yelling something along the lines of “We’re late! We have to go!” Before I can say “Wh-”, I am rushed half-ready, already thirsty and hungry into an impatient car. Hair not so awesome.

2:40-3:40pm – Stuck in traffic.

3:50-5pm – The supermarket/mall experience.

5-6pm – Rush hour traffic.

6pm – Arrive home starving, needing immediate hydration. Unload car and run away to dark cavern before Mom looks at me and says “What’s for dinner?” Sometimes this is unsuccessful and I end up making dinner.

7pm – Dinner

8pm-10pm – Collapse on sofa exhausted after a day of nothingness. Computer time.

11pm – Shower, and bed.

11pm-1am - Lie in bed wide awake sweating, wondering why I can't fall asleep.

2am - Sleep.

Repeat this everyday for two weeks.  Such fun! Tomorrow we’re going to China to rediscover the family roots, so will keep you posted on any adventures.

Monday, May 6, 2013

Welcome to the Philippines

It's feels good to be back in Asia. In fact, it feels great to be back in Asia. I don't even know where to start. The heat, the colours, the flavours, the high contrasts, the people, the fruit. There's something about the combination of sticky tropical heat, muggy days, and tropical fruit that appeals to me greatly. Today for example, is a horribly humid day, completely overcast and muggy, and yes, I woke up completely cabin-feverish and sticky, but that feeling evaporated as soon as I stepped outside to be surrounded by green. There are so many plants, so many edible ones as well. Even though stepping outside does not necessarily mean stepping into fresher air, the green surroundings offer such a relief for your eyes, that everything just seems fresher. At least that's how it works for me, but I like green.

So yeah, I'm in Asia, more specifically in Manila, the Philippines. More to come.


Saturday, February 2, 2013

Adios amigos




I have now left El Salvador to return to the cold temperatures of Europe. It is time to face the world again so I will probably disappear from this blog for a few months. In the meantime, I leave you with two lovely collages and a link to a new and exciting project/blog currently being conducted by my mother to trace and uncover my family's Chinese/Mexican heritage. The blog is written in Spanish, but it has lot of old pictures as well as information about the start of globalization and the mixing of cultures way back in the 16th Century.

buscandoalabuelo.blogspot.com

Hasta luego!

Friday, February 1, 2013

Roaring beast in the night

How I love earthquakes. The quiet roar of approaching tremors like a silent beast in the night announcing its impending arrival. The roar of an earthquake is not something you immediately notice in the daytime. Perhaps you are more preoccupied about buildings falling down around you and crushing you to smithereens. At night however, in a blissful dream like state their arrival is almost magical.

We had two earthquakes last weekend, at a magnitude of 4.5 - strong enough to raise people from their slumber but not strong enough to raise the alarm. The first one was a quick but tremulous jab to the ribs, the second, like I said, a stealthy roaring beast attacking in the night. Granted, I was half-asleep and it is very likely that my dream-like state has affected my perception of the tremors, but after the initial alarm the trembling earth rocked the population back to sleep with a friendly good bye.



Sunday, January 20, 2013

Sunday - Market day

Previous Sundays have consisted of attending Catholic mass, weekend trips to the beach or country, or visiting family. Today though, we did something old, something we used to do when I was but a wee chipilín, munching happily on raw sugar cane.

We went to the market. Grandma had a hankering for a bowl full of chilate, a rather tasteless broth or atol, served with a side of sweet syrupy buñuelos or nuegados. Previous experience had taught me I was not the biggest fan of this afternoon snack. But in the food's defense, I had based my harsh judgement on samples provided to me by Mister Donuts - if you have never heard of Mister Donuts click here, but it is basically an antique American fast breakfast food franchise from the 50s that has remained popular in El Salvador. How wrong was I to dismiss this local dish based on Mister Donuts' cold, bland and chunky interpretation.

So what is chilate? It is a water-based broth made out of toasted maize flour, whole peppercorns and ginger, thickened slightly with corn starch. In Mexico, it is very common to add chili and cocoa beans which is where the name comes from, but in El Salvador, the broth is not condimented too heavily so as to better compliment the side of buñuelos and/or nuegados. To me, a bowl of chilate is nothing without its sweet syrupy counterparts and vice versa. The term nuegados means nuggets and refers to sugared plantain or sweet potato chunks. Sugared pumpkin on the other hand is prepared with cinamon and brown sugar loaf and is called ayote. If you go to one of the popular food chains which sell local food (e.g. Mister Donuts or Typicos de Margoth) buñuelos are large male fist-sized profiteroles, deep fried and covered in sugar and brown sugar loaf syrup. They are made out of egg and wheat flour, usually slightly hard and stale and far too big and sweet to be consumed by one person. You are better off visiting a local market, or keeping an eye out for street vendors pushing around their chilate cart between 3-4 in the afternoon. Their approach is often marked by the echoing sounds of "chiilaaaaaaaate...."

Today, in a market close to Santa Tecla, the chilate lady had plenty of options on offer. The drink itself is always the same, served piping hot in a gourd with the occasional floating peppercorn. The sides are a different matter with various choices crispy yet chewy egg or yucca buñuelos, and flavorsome plantain, sweet potato or pumpkin nuegados.  I had a serving of nugget sized yucca buñuelos and ayote candy with syrup, the perfect contrast to the peppery broth on a cool afternoon.

Sunday, January 13, 2013

Maquilishuat - Tabebuia Rosea

Let me introduce you to El Salvador's national tree, the Maquilishuat (pronounced ma-ki-liz-wat) also known as the Roble de Sabana in Costa Rica, or by its Latin name: Tabebuia Rosea. It flowers from mid-January to the end of February much like the Japanese Cherry Blossom tree. According to the Wikipedia page its bark has various medicinal properties, but I'll be able to tell you more about that next year maybe.

Its flowers are medium sized and vary from a pale violet to a vibrant pink. They line the streets with their delicate petals and have a very faint sweet scent.








Saturday, January 12, 2013

Puerta del Diablo and Panchimalco

Tourist day!

And what a day it was. Starting first with a productive culinary morning of homemade coconut milk, green mango chutney and a risotto-ish experiment (which turned out pretty good if I do say so myself), a couple hours later Abuela, Henry and I were off for a new Salvadoran adventure. First stop, Panchimalco.

Panchimalco is one of El Salvador's few historic towns, popular with gringo tourists such as myself for the visible Pipil and colonial influences. You've entered Panchimalco once you reach the cobbled streets and white washed houses with colourful doors. If you visit the town on a weekend, and head over to the church, you will meet Don _ the local Pipil expert who will greet you in the Panchimalco variant of Nahuat. He's a nice enough guy and since it's a tiny town he'll show you around the place and recommend sites like Miguel-Angel Ramirez' art studio and the Panchimalco Cultural Centre. I did not visit either of these, but Miguel Angel Ramirez for example is one of El Salvador's most famous artists known for his children's portraits. So if you're into art, his studio is definitely worth a visit.

The Panchimalco church is one of my favorite churches ever. And I swear I'm not really into churches at all. This one however, is made almost entirely out of wood, with the exception of the front façade which is made out of clay or brick(?). That last part needs to be confirmed. The inner floor is made out of clay and the interior structure is decorated with beautifully crafted wooden beams and altars. The front altar is another elaborate wooden structure which houses various figures of the Virgin Mary, Christ and other saintly figures. It reaches up to the domed wooden ceiling of the altar room. This church is the oldest surviving colonial structure of El Salvador having been built around 1725.
Panchimalco church and Puerta del Diablo

Facing the church, camera poised to take a picture, you will notice prominent cliffs to the left of the church. This natural formation is known as the Puerta del Diablo, the devil's door, and is also well worth a visit if you're up for a short climb that will provide you a full circle view of El Salvador and its major landmarks such as the San Salvador Cathedral, San Vicente (otherwise known as Chichontepec - the big breasted volcano), San Miguel volcano, and Ilopango - El Salvador's biggest volcanic lake. There are many myths and legends surrounding the devil's doorway, the most obvious one being that here lies the devil's entrance to the underworld. But as the entrance to the underworld is yet to be found, plenty of locals and gringo tourists make their way over for a spectacular view. You'll also get a taste for Salvadoran culture from the rastafarian moteros selling hemp products nestled on the side of the cliff, to the reggaetoneros blasting 70s rock at the foot of the cliffs. If you're extra adventurous be sure to wear stilettos for the steep upward climb.

Photies - click to enlarge


Panchimalco church details


A tiny doorway


San Salvador and Quetzaltepec volcano

El Salvador del Mundo - The Saviour of the World, famous monument