First impressions

About the flight across the Pacific, the less said the better. In both planes they kept the windowshades down and the lights off the entire nineteen hours. No doubt this gave passengers a clear view of the entertainment screens in each seat, but I felt I was enclosed in a suspended animation pod like in sci-fi movies.

We emerged from the pod to find Manila itself all light. Huge colored pillars and globes lighting the main road, garish signage, an intense sun occasionally escaping an overcast sky. The air is heavy with humidity, pollution, and unknown smells—it wraps around you the second you step from an air-conditioned space. We’re settling in to a pleasant little apartment in Ermita, a tourist area near Adamson. One window overlooks a Chinese Budhist temple, high rises, low rise shacks, and the gargantuan Robinson mall. (more on malls later) The other looks directly into the exercise room of the posh Pan Pacifica hotel, above a street jammed with cars, taxis, wildly decorated jeepneys (that’s one in the top photo), plus the local pedicabs made of a small bicycle with a passenger sidecar. At night we’re entertained by a nearby Karaoke club and in the morning by the neighborhood roosters. (Urban chickens are definitely in vogue here.)

The Philippines is the fourth largest English-speaking country, so they say. Conversation among Philippinos moves back and forth from English to Tagalog in the same lilting accent, but they’re kind enough to us visitors to slow down and repeat words when needed.

Moving through all this are crowds of people, almost all young and without exception cheery. Except for the youngest, the small, thin children begging for handouts. The most vivid contrast here is between affluence and grinding poverty. We try to respond thoughtfully, but are feeling conflicted and way out of our moral comfort zone.