Seeing as how practically everything I do in life is a means to allow me to travel more, this is extremely depressing. However, the economy hasn’t been great, Hugh had to get his residency issues in order, and furthermore, we’re saving money for our wedding.

Which means, of course, that I’ll have something travel related to blog about… namely, our honeymoon! We’re still trying to decide on a destination, but somewhere we’d never dreamt of going is pretty high on that list. I’ll try and keep this more updated than I have.

Buoyancy isn't something we'd worked on yet...

Something I’ve always wanted to do is learn how to scuba dive. Imagine my delight when I found out that not only does my cousin dive, but she was willing to take us out somewhere to go on an intro dive.

We drove out to Anilao in Batangas to a small resort. When I arrived, I looked out to the grey ocean and felt a bit anxious. It was a gloomy day and the water looked choppy and cold. Did I mention I am actually afraid of the ocean, and more importantly, putting my head under the water? It all stems from when I almost drowned trying to surf in Hawaii….but I digress… =P

I was a bit nervous during the briefing, I knew it was just an introductory course and that everything would be okay…but you know, the fear was there. So we get geared up, we get on the boat, and I’m told I need to fall backwards into the water (oh good lord, I thought!) Managing all the courage I could muster, I let the weight of the air tanks pull me backwards and…

Well, I entered a whole new world. If the sea looked grey and bleak from the surface, it was completely different below. I saw so many fish, and bright coral, and weird looking plants. You know when you go to an aquarium and you see all the neon colored anemone, and coral that look like brains, and weird stripey fish? Yeah, somehow I just thought all that stuff was fake and created for aquariums. But then I got to see it for real, and it was just amazing. All my fear washed away.

Hugh eating fresh uni out of the sea

After our intro dive, we went to shore with a bag of uni (sea urchin) which we had plucked from the rocks near the shore (apparently it is not illegal to get them in the Philippines.) I’m not a fan of uni personally, and I think I’m even less of a fan after watching the resort chef hack them open. It’s amazing how little meat is actually inside of those suckers! Anyways, Hugh and my cousin were both extremely pleased by the quality of the uni which they ate with calamansi juice.

We had so much fun we promptly decided to sign up for our certification. It took a week and with it came a whole new set of stress and tears (on my part) but when I actually accomplished the task I couldn’t do for days (clearing a mask underwater) I felt a very happy sense of accomplishment. Oh, and I also got stung by a firecoral down there so I guess now I have battle scars =P

It’s wonderful to have conquered a fear AND crossed something off my Life To-Do List!

Few people know that the Philippines has more English speakers than the United Kingdom. Many people know that Filipinos speak English, many people know that they speak Filipino/Tagalog as well in the Philippines–but what a lot of people don’t know is the extent that English is spoken. In Japan, as well as many other countries in Asia, English is used to puncuate or emphasize something like… “Aki no Trendy Style!” (Trendy styles for Fall) In the Philippines, they’d just flat out say “Trendy styles for the fall,”. I remember Japanese people being amazed when I told them that Filipino TV was 90% in English. To the Japanese, English is a language for Caucasian Westerners–nevermind the fact Singaporeans, Hong Kongers, Indians and Filipinos all speak English.

I remember on a trip to the Philippines one of my friends was stunned that street children could speak better English than the high school students she taught in Japan. How does that happen, we wondered? Well, it’s easy. They just use it. TV shows are often in English, not subtitled or dubbed. If they’re not fully in English, a good part of it will be. Especially if the show is about something technical like medicine or law. Hugh often understood the gist of what was going on around him simply due to liberal use of English.

Other examples? During a Filipino wedding, all the prayers and songs were in English, the priest’s sermon was also in English. During the reception, all speeches were in English despite the fact that out of the 500 guests only 5 people in the room didn’t understand Tagalog.  You would never see this stuff in Japan–not that this is the way it should be. Language is important for cultural identity, and the loss of language is something which I consider very sad. I found out that several of my cousins CANNOT speak Tagalog despite being born and raised in the Philippines. I find that very odd.

Yet, the question of how should Japanese people learn English continues to bother me. The only real way to make sure people learn it is to make it a requirement, more so than just something kids have to do to pass a test to graduate high school.

Chick on a stick...not actually very tasty.

While in the Philippines, my cousins and uncles have been trying endlessly to gross out Hugh with “exotic” Filipino food. I think this is a pretty common practice around the world, where rather than be embarassed about some local delicacies, most people consider Americans (and its usually Americans who are so grossed out by foreign delicacies) to just have boring diets. And honestly–with our health, who are we to be grossed out by what people eat? I’ve come to consider the giant bowls of fat they serve at restaurants back home to be pretty foul.

However, Hugh’s a pretty adventurous eater so he always ends up grossing people out in their attempts. In Japan we/he sampled such delicacies as: bees, sake with a dead snake coiled in it, raw horse meat, not to mention many of the more normal things like seaweeds and shellfish that some people would find repulsive. In Laos, we tried silkworms and water buffalo. I’ve had turtle-shell jelly in China and Taco Bell in America. It isn’t about trying to gross each other out, or be adventurous or anything. There are certain things we won’t do–I won’t eat anything killed before my eyes (like the snakes and their beating hearts in Vietnam) which are often done just to be grotesque for tourists and not because the majority of the population eats it. But we figure that if people in a culture eat this sort of food, then it’s certainly worth trying. At worst, just don’t eat it again. It PROBABLY won’t kill you. We rolled our eyes at tourists in Laos who would go on and on about how horrible it was that Laotians ate certain things (civet cats, random wildlife, birds), never realizing that certainly certain groups of people think the Western diet of beef is possibly horrible, or that Laotians are poor and hunting game in the forest isn’t about sport, but about survival.

Food is all very cultural anyways. I never grew up on fancy cheese (many Asians don’t) and as a result, I often find the cheeses that my European friends love smell and taste like vomit, or worse. I mean really, do you know WHY blue cheese has blue flecks in it? My point is–blood pudding or dog meat or whatever. Food is food.

Saddam Hussein pizza?!

In the Philippines there are delicacies such as dinaguan, a stew made of pigs’ blood, which isn’t really that strange to some cultures who eat blood puddings or marrow, but most infamous with non-Filipinos is balut, which is chicken embryo.

Somehow though, Hugh managed to finally put my family’s taunts to rest when he ate a day-old chick which are served whole on a stick and meant to be eaten as such–bones, innards, head, feet and all. My uncle who will eat balut seemed positively disgusted by the fact we ate it, though you could joke and call it overripe balut. My cousin Jean made him do it and he heroically did so, announcing “tastes yolky!” as he did so.

Bad photo, but you can see Hugh jumping, someone running for their life, a car being showered by sparks, and just how close we were to third degree burns ;p

After the wedding, we went with my cousins to Baguio, a mountain-top city which serves as a summer retreat for Manilans. I was told that it was very rural and provincial, but I guess after backpacking through rural Laos I had a completely different idea of what that would be. While it was certainly quite pretty in some parts, I was a bit disappointed to see how developed and urban it was. Most of the hills were covered with houses, developments, and/or shacks and a lot of the tourist areas had tribal people standing out in front of them trying to get tourists to dress up in traditional clothing for 30 cents. After seeing how tourism and hilltribes can successfully work hand-in-hand, it was a bit disappointing to see the more exploitative and sad side of it close up and more personal.

New Years was a mix of both kind of dull and fun, but the countdown was fun. We went outside and from the hill we were on we could see fireworks exploding all around us. Actually, all week we heard fireworks randomly exploding which was really pretty jarring since no one really likes hearing explosions in the middle of the night. The highlight of New Years was definitely seeing my life move in slow motion as fireworks exploded a couple of yards away from us. =P Good old Filipino safety standards

Ceremony in a lovely old church

We officially arrived in the Philippines on the 26th, worn-out and suffering from food poisoning (well, me at least.) However, after a few days of rest we were able to attend my cousin’s wedding. Although I’m ethnically Filipino, I was born and raised in the United States and had only attended one Filipino wedding prior to this one (and that one was sort of a blend of traditions since it was of a Filipina-American friend.)

The church ceremony was Catholic, but with so much pomp and circumstance that I’m surprised more people in America haven’t taken some of the traditions. First there were the dozen sponsors for the bridal party, then there were all the offerings. It wasn’t just wedding rings being brought up by a young boy, but also a bible. I had to fill in for a sick cousin, my role? I was to place a cord/giant rosary over the couple to symbolize them being joined together, but that was already after a veil was placed over them. Despite the ceremony, the church was surprisingly loud and chipper–some weddings I’ve attended have almost felt like funerals since they were so quiet, solemn, and often filled with crying people. Instead there were children running around, people gossiping to themselves, the doors and windows thrown wide open to keep the church from being stifling.

Men dressed in barong tagalog--a traditional formal dress shirt made of pineapple fiber

After the church ceremony, the reception was held at the Peninsula Hotel Manila where there was live music, professional dancers to keep the party moving, and a very international buffet with prime rib and other things like that. What was most amazing was the cost: a wedding in an centuries old church, a reception in a 5 star hotel, live band, custom made dress, 5 tier cake, and 500 guests cost approximately 1/10th of what it would cost in America. My family joked, “have the wedding here, just fly everyone over and you’ve still saved money!” What’s sad about that is that it’s completely true. :/

For Christmas Eve, I met up with a Thai friend of mine who I met in Japan. She took us down to a local street food market full of delicious food that of course, isn’t listed in any guidebooks. We sat on the street and they ordered a massive feast of food, that of course is actually authentically flavored since its made for Thais. I think pretty much every meal in a foreign country is vastly improved by having a local do the ordering.

As strange as some people may find it, we were excited to be in Bangkok and to be wandering the streets and shopping and just enjoying city life. Our next stop is the Philippines for a month, but seeing as we will be with family I think this may be the end of our “backpacking” trip. In fact, Hugh and I splurged on a suitcase and are far too excited to be filling it with stuff. Amazingly, after 5 months we bought very, very few things on the road so its kind of hard to break that habit. Not that I want to. A little less materialism never hurt anyone.

Anyways, the dinner was pretty untraditional as far as Christmas Eve goes, but I was still really happy to be in a big bright city with good food and good company.

The last place we stayed in Phuket was Patong Beach, pretty much the tourist epicenter of Phuket and dear lord does it show. While there’s lots more shops and restaurants to choose from, there’s very little charm. The beach was incredibly crowded and the water quality was pretty poor (compared to the beaches just a few kilometeres away).

The main tourist entertainment strip is along Bangla Rd., which is often compared to Patpong in Bangkok–girlie shows, bars, prostitutes. I suppose some people would find it to be a den of sin and disgusting (read reviews on tripadvisor and you’ll see plenty of people bothered by it), but I thought it was pretty tame and silly. Then again, I’ve never really been bothered by girlie shows or transvestites.

Without a doubt, if you like the party scene then Patong is a pretty good place to stay… but personally, if we ever go back, I’d stay at a nearby beach and just rent a car (screw tuk-tuks!) up to Patong.

Tuk-tuks are the predominant form of tourist transportation in Thailand. They vary in form depending on the country, but here they’re more or less golf-carts on steroids. You tell your driver your destination, he gives you a price, you offer a counter-price, and then settle wherever it makes you happy. You accept that you’ll probably never get the Thai-price, but you are satisfied with something 10%-50% higher (NOT 2x-5x higher).

Except of course here in Phuket. A 2 mile journey costs more than a New York City cab ride, and hey–at least in a cab you get to be fully enclosed and have a pretty decent chance of survival in the unfortunate case of an accident. I am simply baffled at the $25 charge for a 5-mile journey up the island. This would be crazy in America, but this is absolutely ridiculous in Thailand where you can take a bus 300 miles to Chiang Mai for the same price. BTW, I’m not advocating being a jerk and haggling over everything. But there’s a difference between being overcharged 10cents or even a dollar, than being overcharged $15.

The problem is multi-fold and obviously the local government has a lot to answer for, but since I can do pretty much nothing about that, I’ll blame the people I have a smidgen of a chance of influencing. That would be us, the tourists and travelers. Now, I understand how it is–you walk out of your resort, a tuk-tuk driver tells you it costs $10 to go up the beach. You figure that’s not so bad, and besides–you don’t like haggling and you don’t really want to bother. But here’s the rub: everyone I’ve met in Thailand complains about scams and crazy prices–but it didn’t get this way because Thai people are thieving jerks, it got this way because someone just throws money around and doesn’t care if he’s getting scammed (or he does but just whines about it later.) So don’t be the cause of it! If someone’s quoting you a price more than London or New York, you laugh and walk away. 9 out of 10 the driver will chase you and discount his price. You don’t even have to walk away, just standing there often brings you a discount or the very tricky, “What price do YOU want?” This is Thailand, there isn’t even a meter!

You never to tell a tuk-tuk (or anything without a meter) that you are going to an expensive hotel, even if you are. Tell them you’re going to a nearby cheap hostel and your price suddenly drops. Once we got pretty mad at a shared-truck driver for charging us 5x the local price to our destination, he got pretty embarassed and then admitted to us he only did it because we told him we were going somewhere expensive, therefore, would pay it. On many other occasions, after asking the driver for his price, he went, “uhhh….” and looked us up and down before pulling a number out of the air. We’ve caught people changing their prices mid-haggle because they deemed us dumber/smarter than they originally thought.

Furthermore, we were told by a local that this group of drivers has not only fixed prices to an insane level, but they’ve also set up these signs to make themselves look official. The prices, for what it’s worth, is not based on distance–it’s based on a mix of where you want to go, where you are leaving from, and how much competition there is. We found that the most expensive place to get a tuk-tuk was, surprise surprise, around the resort hotels. One driver had the nerve to ask for about $45 for a 20 minute trip–more than the cost of the airport which was 60 minutes away.  But this is where I blame tourists…where on earth did that number come from? There must have been someone out there who thought that price was reasonable. =P

But hell, if some sucker/lazy holidaymaker is willing to pay 10x the local price for something, why not?  But let’s remember, just because you don’t want to deal with haggling on your once-a-year vacation doesn’t mean life ends here once you’ve left. You accept a stupidly inflated price and all that does is make it worse and worse for everyone other tourist, and yourself when you come back. This has come to a head in Vientiane (Laos) and here in Phuket where the prices are more expensive than anywhere else in Thailand. When you try and tell a driver that his price is 10x the Bangkok price, they say, “But this is Phuket!” Dude, it’s still Thailand.

I’d personally like to know how much money they need to pay the mafia or whatever, because the way the prices are–if they just took 2 or 3 fares then they’d be making more money than I did in Japan. And no matter what the drivers say, it’s STILL Thailand.

I’ve been to one in Pattaya before with my mother (very funny story for many different reasons), but this one was much more grand. It had incredible costumes and set design. One of the sets was a jungle complete with waterfall, another was a giant sphinx with King Tut’s head. The “girls” themselves varied in believability, but for the most part it was pretty good. They sang and danced to songs in multiple languages, but for some reason the vast majority of the songs were Chinese. There was only one song in Thai and it was more of a comedy routine with a very heavyset kathooey and a lanky kathooey who were both pretty obviously men doing embarassing things to the men in the audience.

At one point, Hugh and I both noticed a girl who was just so… Japanese. We couldn’t put our finger on it at first, but there was something about her actions that made her seem just like the idol/models on Japanese variety shows. She was very pretty and had this doe-eyed look on her face. Even the way she clapped her hands freaked us out. We could have brought her to Japan and everyone would have just assumed she was some sort of magazine model.

After the show I realized what it was, it wasn’t her looks necessarily since other girls were just as pretty and “Japanese-looking” (it’s a pretty trendy way of dressing/styling oneself here), but it was the excessive expression of “femininity.” Kathooey (the good ones) are believable not just because of their looks, but because they have mastered the “act” of being a woman. On Japanese TV you see an endless parade of models doing “acts” of what is considered feminine in Japan: a mix of being helpless, childlike, demure, and often dumb (or at least extremely naive), but always beautiful. They don’t just say things that convey these ideas, but it’s in the smallest detail of how you sit, how you clap your hands, etc. After three years living in Japan, I found myself picking up some of these Japanese femininity cues.

It made me realize how absolutely important certain actions and gestures are to seeming masculine or feminine and makes me wonder how much of what we consider beautiful is based on these things as well. We saw plenty of kathooey on the streets who were physically pretty, but somehow didn’t cut it as beautiful. It’s interesting how the extra gestures can increase a woman’s beauty.

There’s no pictures in this entry because I wasn’t willing to pay a $6 tip per girl for a photo. =P And trust me, the minute you try and take a photo that’s when 10 of them jump in with you. I saw a poor guy shell out about $60 just because he wanted a keepsake, when he tried to protest they got pretty aggressive. Not super lady-like, but a girl’s gotta do what a girl’s gotta do…