A Taiwanese Wedding

Cultural adventures are as important as hikes and trips to museums. They provide a chance to connect and understand people. Last weekend I went to a Taiwanese wedding. It was interesting. I do not think it would fit the image that a lot of westerners would picture for a wedding though. I am not sure how typical it was, but it did provide me with a chance to see a new side of Taiwanese culture.

The night we got the invitation.

To start this tale we have to jump a bit farther back in time. The original invitation came when I was still with my girlfriend. It was for her friend Peggy’s wedding. I was invited as Grace’s date. However, Grace and I separated. We are still friends though, so I told her I would still go with her.

Now let us speed forward to the wedding day. There was no big ceremony like at a western wedding. They did that at home, just the newlyweds and their parents. Instead, everyone was meeting for the wedding party. At first I thought we had arrived at a car dealership. It was actually a building set up for multiple wedding receptions.

Inside was crowded and bustling. There were at least three weddings going on at the same time. People were milling about and talking. There were a lot of different decorations. The most prominent of which were copies of the wedding photos. Wedding photos are a big deal in Taiwan. Couple love to go to parks, historic sites, and other nice areas for gorgeous photo shoots. A book was set out on a table so that we could flip through them. My personal favorite was of them wearing Mickey & Minnie Mouse ears.

Grace took me to the Bridesroom where Peggy and Rodge were getting their hair done. I sat back and let the girls gab as well as help take some pictures. I did end up teasing Grace. I claimed if she ignored me to much I would tell people I was her fiance or husband.

There was a table set up to hand over red envelopes. Rather than giving gifts, it is traditional to give a red envelope with money to the couple. After we signed a banner for the couple we got our seats in the hall. We were seated around a table with relatives and friends of the bride. Apparently they were having a separate wedding party for the grooms side at a different place because his family lived outside the city.

After a bit things were ready to go. The lights focused in and the happy couple walked down the aisle to their table. There were toasts and pictures. I was busy drinking down cup after cup of mango juice thanks to a case of dehydration. Then the food started to come. As a dish decorated with lobster shells was set down, the bride and groom went back to their room to relax. Duck, beef, and salad were brought around. The newlyweds were not missing out too much, they had lunch in their changing room.

I think I might have ate slower if I had known how many courses there would be. Shrimp and bowls of pork and scallop soup came out. There was a plate piled high with mushrooms and abalone. To me the best part was the lamb ribs. Of course there was still chicken soup to come as well. There were some pastries that even Grace could not identify for me. The final dessert was rum raisin ice cream cups.

The happy couple and their parents. Photo credit of Grace.

The show was not over though. The newlyweds came back, and in style. They, or at least Peggy, had changed cloths. She was in a nice blue dress. Rodge pedaled a tricycle into the hall with her sitting on a back seat waving. She handed out some candy, which the kids mobbed her for. Having promised not to embarrass Grace, I stayed in my seat. They came around each table to toast and take pictures.

Me on the wedding bike. Photo credit of Grace

Adequately stuffed, the last stop was pictures with the couple on the way out. We got our picture with them and Grace shot some photos with her new camera. It turns out that no matter what side of the world you are on, it isn’t really a wedding until someone’s uncle has a bit too much to drink. Grace and I snuck off to look the rest of the wedding building over. It’s kind of our thing. Act like we are some kind of spies. It was a neat little look around. A final wave good bye, and a doggie bag full of ribs, and we were ready to walk off our meal.

Afterwards. Photo credit of Grace.

Maintaining the Chronicle

One of the things that fascinates me about the explorers of old are the records they leave behind. Pioneers carved markers into rocks. Mountain men worked maps onto their powder horns. Travelers such as Louis and Clark left behind journals. All of these are ways to record discovery, preserve memory, and let the world know that you were there.

Running a 5k by the river.

As much as I love writing about my little adventures and sharing a bit about the things I do, I am a slow writer. This increases the longer after I have done something. It is less fresh in the mind as to be expected. My procrastination is amplified when I have a lot that needs to be wrote. Sadly, I have a pretty big backlog at this point.

The key to this goes back to around a year ago. My laptop broke so I was unable to write for around a month. Of course, I was still out seeing the world. By the time the thing was fixed, I had a lot to write, but not so much time to write it in.

Happily, I am finally catching it all up. This has meant focusing on the biggest stories, like trips to Hong Kong. Others are getting left aside though. As well, some of the smaller stories are being compiled or being told slightly out of order.

The light festival.

I have decided to compile some things together. A lot of little things like the Miniatures Museum and Puppetry Museum are really quite cool. However, they do not really need a story all to themselves. They have common themes and complement each other nicely.

There are lots of things I want to tell, such as trips with friends and hikes up mountains. In my rush to get out big stories, like Manila, those ones get sidelined. They will still come though, I think, but they will be out of order. Oh how I loath to have things in disarray! I feel that is for the best though. I am going to work on a way to note chronology so that there is no confusion on the order of events.

A hint of what is to come soon is in order to keep you interested.

I look forward to talking about the Sky Lantern Festival and the Light Festival. The beauty of Taiwan in December. Hiking in Tianmu and nearly getting lost in the woods after sunset will be exciting. Long one of my favorites, a compilation of bike trips along the river. Of course, the story that everyone is looking forward to, my trip to Japan.

Bare with me now. I hope that everyone is patiently waiting. Good things are in store. As I ramp up work here, other ideas are being floated around. I hope that by my next really big adventure I can utilize video footage.

Hong Kong

I arrived in Hong Kong late in the evening. I was less excited about it than other trips I had made. A big, modern city was not the kind of thing that really appeals to me. I had chosen it because it was a cheap flight and fairly safe. After Manila, I was inclined to choose destinations that did not prove quite so much threat to a lone traveler.

The Hong Kong airport was nice and modern as was to be expected. Most importantly it had free wifi that let me check things online. I had the details for getting to my hostel write down, but it never hurts to be able to make some last minute Google searches. I checked my email and such as I waited for the bus.

Down by the bay

Pro Tip: Get an Octopus Card if you are going to be spending much time in Hong Kong. You can use it to pay for buses, MRT, and other things. It is a lot easier than trying to find the correct change.

It was the first time I have ever had the opportunity to ride a double decker bus. Wanting the best view possible of the city I was about to explore I chose up top, right in the front. That turned out slightly less exciting than envisioned. The bus rout did not go by anything terribly exciting. After I tired of watching the night lights roll by I took some time to read.

One nice thing about Hong Kong is that after a century and a half of British rule a lot things are in English. That probably explains the double decker bus too. I found my stop easy enough. As a bonus I found someone else looking for the same hostel as I got off. Between the two of us we were able to find the place.

The Hong Kong Hostel proved to be quite different from what I am use to. After checking in and seeing the common room I was told how to get to the dorm...down the street. The quarters were located in a separate building. More....odd...was the fact that a sign was displayed inside of the building explaining that an illegal hostel was being run on the premise. To be fair, I think that is actually a pretty common practice in Hong Kong.

I want to take a moment to speak of the area that the hostel is located at. It sits along Causeway Bay, one of the major thoroughfares for Hong Kong Island. It is a bustling area illuminated with the glowing lights of commerce. Restaurants, stores, and theaters were situated to cater to travelers, shoppers, and partiers. Right outside was an open air book market.

I spent some time in the common room to get to know some of the other guests. I did talk to an older gentleman named Jay that much like I was looking for cheap entertainment the next day. We agreed to meet in the morning. When I went back to my dorm room I met the other residents, some young men from Finland.  They were a friendly lot, but were more interested in the night life. They were nice enough to share some Finish candy with me that tasted like fish before they headed out.

The next morning I met with Jay then grabbed my breakfast. Rather than spend a lot at a restaurant, I bought some fruit and a delicious fresh pastry at the Welcome across the street. It had strawberries and kiwi in cream cheese. I determined it to be breakfast the next day as well.

Pro Tip: You can get fresh fruit at stores or street markets a lot cheaper than anything else. Portable, full of energy, and one of the few things good for all three meals.

We headed for the bay by MRT and foot. It was a sunny day out, but the air was a bit crisp. The kind of day where you sweat in the light and shiver in the shade. The water was blue with with slow waves. The sky was a slightly different matter. At first I had thought things were blurred by distance and morning mist, but it became clear that there was a haze in the air. It was not a choking fog, but it made things seem out of focus. Hong Kong’s infamous air pollution.

A morning cruise on a junk would be nice.

We watched the boats go about their business. Ferries came to take tourists from one island to another. Most interesting was watching an old junk, or at least a recreation of a junk, pull in to birth at the pier we were standing on. It was a tour ship for those that wanted to sit on an old boat and sip drinks. The boat ride did seem fun, however I do not want to go on a booze cruise.

There is a nautical museum at the wharf. I was not so keen to visit it. The local history of boating over the last century is a subject that I was not interested enough in to spend my thin cash. So instead we looked at the free exhibits along the boardwalk. A visit to a photographer's shop near the various gift shops was a neat way to see different views of the city.

After a fruity lunch we talked over what to do next. I persuaded Jay to take a ferry to Lamma Island. It was the right price and would kill the right amount of time. We found good seats at the back with an unobstructed view. I also figured out that the PFD made a great seat pad, plus it added to my height. As we cruised across the bay we could see different little islands. I was thankful that I had brought my binoculars. I could check out curious details, like the question of the three things in the distance. Buildings? Smokestacks? Later determined it was smoke stacks. Binoculars rock.

Our boat pulled into a little cove. Other small fishing boats connected by planks formed a kind of floating community. It reminded me of what I had seen in movies. Right off of the dock was a line of seafood restaurants catering to tourists. There were several paths we could take, though getting our bearings proved a bit tricky. We finally settled on hiking up the island to another port where we could catch a different boat back.

The paved trail led us uphill and into the greenery. We passed by locals houses as we ascended and descended our winding path through the foothills. It felt like we passed through a half dozen environments on what was a relatively short hike. We passed through banana orchards and hiked up a boulder strewn mountain. We looked out over a bay where the waves crashed against the rocks then stood down on the sand itself. We passed thick bamboo to something more like a jungle. We sweated as we hiked up, and then shivered in the cool air and wind up high.

The island had history to show us as we walked the path. We passed by graves, old and new. The little shrines were set into the mountains. Some were old and forgotten while others, crowded closer together showed the signs of recent visitation and attention. There was an old village of stone buildings. Most were half collapsed. Trees grew up through them and the vines seemed to be the only thing holding them together. The people had moved out as Hong Kong started to modernize. There was a shrine to the local god located near an old stream. The people of the village had left it behind when they were forced to answer the call of society’s unflinching progress. Now it was just a reminder that all things fade in time. 

As we hiked near the peak we finally discovered that our path was not as we had planned. We had missed a turn apparently. Instead we circled the lower half of the island and would be coming right back to where we had started. Frustrating, of course, but the trip was still delightful in the extreme. Before we headed back to the docks, my final foray was to a gazebo at the top of a rocky outcropping while my partner of the day rested. It afforded me a chance to survey the area from on high. Being up there in the cool breeze was a chance to think and reflect. My mind was spurred with inspiration and rejuvenation.

There is little to say of the return. We were inside the boat with little view. I was too worn out to really care much anyway. I hunted up some dinner once we got back. Hong Kong is not a cheap city so I had to pay a good price for just a bowl of noodles. I retired to my bunk and planned the next day before sleep overtook me.

I rose early the next morning with a sense of purpose. I was going to hike the Dragonback. I grabbed some breakfast and lunch from the Welcome then took the MRT to the bus. It was a pleasant ride up the winding mountain, though I wish I had seat with a better view.

The bus dropped me off at the side of the road with the other hikers. It overlooked a good view of the bay. A lot of people like to get out of the urban jungle on the weekend when the weather is nice. I was part of a crowd of locals and tourists (mostly with British accents). There were young people and elderly. I was surprised to see people with toddlers packed in what looked like a cross between a papoose and a high end trekking pack. Bringing a baby on a three hour hike strikes me as a less than wise choice, but some people do not let being a parent change their lifestyle. I for one was glad to not have the extra weight on my back.

A lot of shrubs. I think some of it was Chinese olive.

The mob thinned out as I started up the trail, everyone finding their own pace. I had grown to use to the pathed trails of Taipei. This was more to my liking, a trail pounded into place by hikers' boots. The path was dirt and rock. The forest at the trailhead thinned down to shrubs and a few pinetrees. It matched the more rugged terrain. The grasses waved in the winds. Shade was stripped away by the shortening of the foliage.

I took a relaxed pace. My intent was to enjoy myself, not run some race to the end. There were few flowers to stop and smell, but I halted to examine rocks and insects. I may have seemed a bit strange to others as I kneeled down to take pictures of ants and look at minerals with my pocket microscope. It was my trip, I will indulge the sciences if I want.

A long walk along the ridge.

The ascent grew steeper as I pushed towards the top. I was panting a bit as I finally reached the ridgeline. I could see out across the bay now and look down at the waves licking the beach below. It was a powerful view. The walk along the ridge was a whole different beast. The wind whipped at me as I strode the Dragon's Back. It chilled the sweat that had formed on my hike up. The path was narrower, or at least felt so, because it was now running exactly atop the mountain’s ridgeline.

Pro Tip: A shirt with sleeves is a good idea for any hike in the mountains. Even on a subtropical island the breeze can get cold.

Looking down into the bay bellow. The haze makes it hard to see.

Making friends.

It was invigorating to be up there. Who would have thought such a place could exist in Hong Kong? I felt charged as I crossed the ridge. I ended up becoming the photographer for a group of girls from Indonesia. If you cannot bring a friend along, make some there. At no point did I want to turn back. I was in too good of a mood and filled with curiosity. Crisp air has a way of leaving you ready for more when you are up on a mountain. That is why I travel. The chance to feel alive and to wonder what lies over the next peak.

Finally, I reached the top of Shek O Peak, the highest point of the trail. There is a strong “made it” feeling that goes along with that. You are at the top of the rollercoaster and can start the ride down. I took my photos and burned the memory deep into my brain. This was my accomplishment, my literal high point for the trip. I had gone somewhere and done something new. No matter what, I was contented with that.

Top of the mountain.

That which goes up will eventually come down. I hiked the path until open expanses and shrubs gave way to cool forest shade. This was my comfort zone. I am very much a forest creature. A hike through the woods always plays with my imagination. It puts you inside a living thing. Streams and trickling waterfalls were a common. I stopped to watch them and wished I had more of lunch with me. I found a nice spot where I think I could have sat all day.

The last leg brought me down to the beach. I was glad to have reached the end. I was exhausted and the soles of my feet were killing me. I took some time to sit on some rocks and watch as people swam and surfed. If I had a bit more energy I would have been tempted to play a bit in the water. Then again, wet pants are no fun for a ride home. So instead I enjoyed the gentle lapping of the waves from atop a stone outcropping.

Big Wave Bay

Despite of my fatigue I did force myself to take one last little hike. I walked up the seacliff trail to look at some ancient petroglyphs etched into the stone. It always fascinates me to look at such things. I puzzle over what they mean and why they were placed there. I would actually like to find a way to leave my own mark on the places I have been. Nothing as vandalizing as spray paint or gaudy as names carved on a tree. Just a symbol that proclaims I was there that someday might cause another sojourner or scholar to wonder about who came before.

Here in we enter the boring parts. I waited for a bus probably longer than the ride itself took. I found a simple dinner. Then I laid down to rest, quite exhausted. When I woke in the morning I had time to kill. On advice from my girlfriend, Grace, I decided to head up Victoria Peak.

People getting wedding photos by the tram.

Buses are not the foreigner's friend. I got off a stop late, or maybe a stop early. Maybe I missed a transfer. In the end I was not where I wanted to be with little ability to determine where I was or where to go. I did know I was close though. After some wandering and consideration I finally found a group of middle school boys. One of them spoke enough English to tell me how to get to where I was going, more or less. After a nice cut through a park I found myself waiting in a rather long line.

The tram up the mountain is an interesting ride. It's history goes back to Hong Kong colonial period. Waiting in line gives you a chance to take in some of the history, looking at old machinery and the fashions of a bygone era. The team itself is cooked at a steep angle like a roller coaster that leaves you feeling half reclined. As it rolls upward you are afforded an excellent view with a few stops to snap pictures. My attention was drawn more to some of the interesting bridges and overpasses. Unique architecture has a way of spurring the writer in me and I think of how it might be used in a story or game. I also thought it would be fun to hike and climb along the stone gutter that runs alongside the tram. I am inclined to believe that would be "highly discouraged."

The tram comes to a stop at basically a tourist trap mall. It is filled with overpriced souvenirs and restaurants. I did my best to steer clear of all of that. There was also an ice cream shop with special ice cream for dogs. So, that's a thing.

I found the best view I could and enjoyed looking down at the city as the sun shone brightly on the maze of glass and concrete. I think I could have hiked further and reached the exact top of the peak, the highest point in Hong Kong. I was short on time already though. I settled for buying my preferred souvenir, a patch for my backpack, and rode the tram back down.

At this point I was trying to make my way back to the hostel. I happened across Cheung Kong Park. It was quite beautiful, but I lacked the time to explore it fully. Something for another time I suppose. Hong Kong has a number of elevated walkways in some parts of the city. It helps a good deal in avoiding the traffic. An efficient system that I think other cities would be ahead to adopt.

When I returned to the hostel to checkout I received an unpleasant shock. I was informed that my estimation of how long it would take to get back to the airport by bus was off by a good bit. The only way to make my flight would be to take the train, but I lacked enough HKD. The hostel owner saved my rear at that point. Even though they did not normally exchange NTD, he agreed to do it in my case. That alone is enough to earn the hostel a 5 star rating from me!

The train ride to the airport was swift and I was able to drop my heart rate back below panic levels. The plane ride home was a welcome return. Hong Kong had not been at the top of my choices to visit in Asia. I had thought it to just be a big city. It surprised me though. I found a chance to see history and explore nature. I do hope to visit again. There is still much left to see, especially if I can go back on something other than a shoestring budget.

One Year

Today is a pretty big day. One year ago on this day I left home. I left behind everything I knew and everything familiar. I traveled to the other side of the planet. Today marks a year of living abroad.

It is also my birthday. There is a profoundness to leaving on my birthday. It truly marked a turning point in my life and a new beginning. I wanted to be away from the old, to leave the old me behind and grow anew.

I am different now in ways that make me barely recognizable. I am not in the best shape of my life, but I have lost 10 kg. Also, I now use the metric system and Celsius.  I can speak a little Mandarin. I have taught myself how to play a bit of the recorder among other skills.

Most importantly, I have traveled. I have seen. I have experienced. I have taken the big step out of my own backyard. I have been to four new countries and met people from around the world. My mind and soul have absorbed other cultures and perspectives while my body has transition between boarders.

Still, I want more. I need to feed this growing desire. With each step I hunger to see what is around the next corner, to be fed new knowledge. I have always had need, but now I have glimpsed the buffet and cannot be suited without sampling everything.

So how do I celebrate today? A few ways actually. The first, and most obvious is to go out and have an adventure. I choose to visit the Lin Family Mansion and Garden. I had wanted to for a while but had not had a chance yet.

The MRT deposited me a short walk from my target. It is a pretty part of town with some very nice statues. As I passed through an open air market I stopped to buy myself a little present for myself. I got Legos (or a Chinese knockoff). Don't judge me.

I visited two temples. One was fairly standard, but the other had an open air courtyard. More enchanting was a small park next to the second, or more precisely an extension of it. It had statues of various figures that I think we're different Buddhas. They were arranged around a path shaped like a buddhist symbol. I sat for a bit to reflect and look inward. Today seems a good day for that.

Tranquil park.

Finally I arrived at the Lin Family Mansion and Garden.  It proved to be well worth the trip. It turned out to be one of the most gorgeous and interesting structures in Taipei. It was constructed in 1778. The family spent more on it than was spent on the construction of Taipei at the time. Over time it fell into disrepair. However, the city eventually designated it as a historical park and renovations were undertaken to save the beautiful construction.

Wolf mountain?

It definitely showed it's age. The surfaces were weather worn and the recent typhoon had left a mess. Despite that, it was still a breathtaking sight. The open design allowed for a variety of trees to grow inside. Some of them had even grown to be part of the walls. It seemed like every surface had been designed as a piece of art. As I moved from section to section it was like moving from one garden to another. Little relaxing islands connected by stone hallways. It has several ponds that made for relaxing spots to sit and enjoy the breeze. My mind was transported back to a time before air conditioning and I imagined how nice it would be to live in a place like it during the summer.

Several features struck my fancy above the rest. The first was an elevated sitting area in one of the yards. It was like a mountain rising from the grassland below so that whoever sat there could look down like some deity on those below. Stone steps wound around to the top. Stone seats and a table were carved out so that three could sit and have tea.

Next was a wall that divided two portions of the compound. It had a section that was like a mountain and a tree grew from it. I could see that the wall was also a bridge of sorts. There was a path on top, sadly inaccessible to the public, that would have let someone stroll to another sitting area.

Finally, there was an area that I suspect was made from quarried coral. The bare stone of the walls stood out against the worked walls the connected to it. That was all part of its beauty of course. It gives the impression that you are still touching nature. Walking inside the hallway that it created felt like traveling through a tunnel.

A final worthwhile note is that of the other visitors. I was making an effort to be friendly. A lot of women from South Korea where visiting. I met a family from Australia. The real topper, though, was a group of cosplayers. There were seven girls dressed as characters from Love Live! and were nice enough to let me snap a few pictures. They really were some good cosplayers and I think they made a great location choice for a photoshoot.

Love Live!

After all of that I headed home and got ready for dinner. I had dinner with friends on Sunday, but I also wanted to have a dinner on my actual birthday. I was meeting my friend Grace to go to Texas Roadhouse for a taste of home. Despite our recent choice to just be friends, we are still very close. I was glad to spend the evening with her because one way or another she has been one of the best parts of this past year. She helped and pushed me to try and do so much. So we stuffed our self on good food and talked and had fun.

Picture of the polaroid she took and put in my card.
That one left a mark on her face, we thought it looked cool.

So that is one year past. Things tired, lessons learned. It is time to set new goals and try new things. I will have to see what the next year holds.

Surviving Manila

It really says something about a place when people from there tell you not to go. They left the place, why would you want to go there? I needed a cheap place to do my first visa run too, though, and Mannila was as cheap as it gets. It was someplace I had never been. Even as bad as everyone made it out to be, I thought with only two days I could get something out of the trip.

Things did not start out auspiciously. I ended up having to take a cab to get to the airport instead of the bus because, well, I could not find the bus station. Turns out there are several bus stations in Taipei and the one I knew about was not the right one. I need not have worried about being late though. My flight was delayed several hours.

Look who's ready for adventure.

I was unwinding on the flight when things took an unfortunate turn. There was a team of soccer players on their way to the Philippines as well. They had all been drinking while waiting on our late flight. One man had gotten drunk enough that he passed out on his way to the toilet. They asked if anyone had medical training and I was the only volunteer. When I got up front he was on the floor, bleeding from the head. I got him bandaged up as he came around. He and the flight attendants ignored my advice about him staying put. He insisted on using the bathroom still and they did not want him on the floor for our imminent landing. So I washed my hands of the issue and took my new seat up front.

Once we hit the ground it did not take me long to gather my belongings and get through customs. I stepped out the airport doors into the the thick air and started to search for a taxi. They were all lined up with the intent of getting my business anyway they could. A tout came up with the claim that he represented the official airport taxis and claimed that other taxis were not to be trusted. When I asked about rates, he gave me an outrageous price. I had done my research and knew that it should only be 300 pesos, not 2000. After no luck with the others nearby I was starting to wonder what to do.

Pro Tip: Cabs in the Philippines, especially at the airport will rip you off if you do not know the real cost. Be firm on what you are willing to pay.

Then I saw Jay, the man that had been sitting next to me on the plane after I helped the injured drunk. He was a local and told me that all of the cabs waiting around would be a rip off and that it was better to just walk over to the hotel and get a cab. So I followed him. He even flagged a cab down for me. Sometimes you run into good people.

The cabbie was friendly and spoke fluent english. So far as I can tell he did not try to rip me off. The drive gave me a chance to get a feel for the city. It was dirty, but bright with neon lights. We passed by a half dozen strip clubs in addition to the bars and clubs. My hostel was a bit tough to find. They need a bit better sign placement.

Where2Next was a literal breath of fresh air. The air conditioning was a godsend after being out in air so thick you could swim through it as easily as walk. Clean and modern it was like being in a completely different place from being outside.

Common room of the hostel.

Outside the hostel was a neighborhood set up to cater to and prey upon tourists. Neon signs flashed to advertise bars, clubs, massage parlors, and hostess clubs. Most of course were peddling flesh more than drinks. There were stores to buy cheap, yet still somehow overpriced items such as bottled water. People roamed the street begging for money.

Once I was checked in I tried to use the internet. I have not experienced something so slow and unreliable since I was a kid using dial up. Fast internet is something you become accustomed too the point that it throws you off when you lose it. I finally managed a few messages to let people know I was OK so that I could go to bed.

In such a sweltering place I never would have thought I would be unhappy with air conditioning. The air was actually turned up so high that I was freezing half the night with nothing warmer than a sheet for cover. I have not left my sleeping bag at home since. I woke in the morning feeling utterly exhausted. I did not want to sleep in (as though I could in that cold), I wanted an adventure. So I got a quick shower and headed down for breakfast in the lounge.

What I had read online said that the money exchange at the airport was a total rip off so I had only changed a little. I hit the street to find a changer with a decent rate. Seeing the area in the daylight was shocking. It was even dirtier while deserted of the people going about their night business. There were about seven money changers down the block, half of which might as well have just robbed me. I found one that was close to what the airport had been and was content that that was as good as it gets. Walking down that street I had men trying to sell me everything from jewelry to an iPhone 6. With my money taken care of I decided to start my big adventure. Well an adventure. I was to tired for much. Walking down the street in Manila is its own adventure though.

Pro Tip: Theft proof yourself as best you can. I had money in different pockets. My ID and debit card were in a hidden pocket of my belt pouch that was double strapped to my body. I had a copy of my passport while the actual one was locked up at the hostel.

I walked a couple blocks to where the Jeep near rout was. I walked along squalid streets past closed down bars. Children came up to me begging so I handed out a few pesos in front of a historic church as a wedding was being rehearsed. The oddest encounter was a man coming up and offering to let me shoot guns for $50. "I have uzi, AK 47,  and 9mm." I guess that is what they expect Americans to do after whoring around the night before.

The jeepneys were one of the most interesting parts of my trip. Old US military jeeps were converted into cheap public transportation. Each jeepney is customized with its own delightfully garish color scheme. They seem lively and add color that was otherwise lacking to the city. I hailed one over with more than a bit of excitement. The bench seat was rough, but the open air felt good in the heat. In a surprising honor system you pay by passing your money to the person next to you until it reaches the driver.

Jeepneys are a heck of a way to travel.

The bumpy ride made me smile. The locals probably thought I was crazy for being that happy to get shaken around. A memorable moment was when we were stuck in traffic. A girl who looked about ten or twelve years old climbed onto the back bumper/step and started to sing a song as she passed around an envelope. It was a sad melody. I put a few pesos in.

Mall of Asia

So did I go to a historic site? A natural landmark? A museum? No, I got off the jeepney at the Mall of Asia, one of the largest malls in Asia. Hey, I said I was tired and had a headache. The first point of business was food. I found a Pizza Hut of all places. It was decked out more like a four star restaurant. I actually ended up getting some pretty good pasta there. It is funny how the places we think of as common and cheap at home are a big deal in other countries.

Getting into the mall was it's own special experience. I had to go through a security checkpoint like at an airport. They even checked my adventure bag before letting me through. Most of the stores ended up being a bit to high end for me. So much for finding some cheap deals. The mall was meant for the rich.

I thought a walk along the waterfront would be a better option. Not so much. It was utterly filthy and reeked. The rocks were covered in garbage and you could see that people climbed down to use the water there to wash and perform other bodily functions. The water was polluted and oily from the ship that crowded the bay. The food stands and fair rides for those with money seemed so out of place. Opulence pressed against poverty.

Looking over the bay, trying to ignore all of the ships on the horizon. 

It is hard to truly comprehend the kind of poverty of a place like Manila without experiencing it first hand. You can be told about it and see pictures, but it seems so distant until it is right in your face. I had always known about it, but this was the first time I was truly exposed to it. I was forced to confront something troubling, the kind of thing we push to the back of our mind so that we can go about our lives and worry about our own problems.

It is hard to turn down someone’s begging when they are filthy and hungry. You can look around you and see that they are coming to you because there is no other option, no real hope. At the same time, you only have so much money and time. I found myself giving pocket change to begging children and tipping people more than I would have in the US.

However, as you go on it wears you down. Especially when you start to see how organized it is. There is a tout on every corner ready to push you into a taxi. Every taxi driver is trying to take you to whoever gives him a cut. And that guy sends you out with guides who try to get a tip at every turn. Waiting there is someone who is trying to sell you something, pushing it on you to get whatever they can. Even though they need that money bad, it is hard to not feel like you are prey that is being cornered. They are not predators, though, just desperate people.

I had brought enough money to eat on, to pay my expenses. I was not some rich traveler, even if I was better off than everyone around me. After a while I realized that there was no choice if I wanted to be able to eat my own dinner. So, I hardened my heart to the suffering around me. I looked the other way and kept going where I was headed when people tried to stop me.

After boredom set in, and I had a nice Thai salad, I started back for the hostel. That was easier said than done. There were a lot of jeepneys outside to choose from and I was wary of the touts. I finally found one that was going to where I needed. The open air breeze from the jeepney felt good in the evening humidity. I got off when I reached the intersection I needed, but was not sure where to meet the next jeepney.

Pro Tip: Get someone at your hostel/hotel to write down directions in the local language. That way you can just show people where you are trying to get too. It may help, if they know where the place is.

This was easily the most nerve wracking part of my trip. It was dark and I was not sure of where to go. The street was crowded where I was (a night market of sorts), but that did not make it safe. As a foreigner there was no way for me not to stand out. The police were no help, and not to be trusted. I followed the directions I was given as best I could understand them. I was in a state of heightened awareness that I rarely reach. I pointedly tried to keep my belt pouch hidden while looking as big, tough, and confident as I could manage.

Help finally came in the form of another American, who was having a worse time of things than me. He had been robbed before meeting me. A thief tore out his pants pocket to get his wallet. That left him with no money to get to the other side of the city where he was house sitting. After he showed me the corner to wait on (and warned me that it was a dangerous spot) I gave him some pesos to help him and his stray kitten on his way.

I was the first one on the jeepney and ready to get out of Dodge. Unfortunately, I think I got off a stop early, or maybe they just use a different return route. I was back to hoofing it a few blocks. The nightlife was in full swing. Bright lights and women in dresses were set to draw the eye, and the rest of you, in. The touts were aggressive. Every place I walked by there was someone trying to beg and bully me to come in. Actually, I felt kind of bad turning the prostitutes down. They were very polite.

I did make it back to Where2Next. It was a relief to be out of the heat. I spent a bit of time trying to plan for the next day. I had little luck using the internet. I was able to meet a few of the other guests for a bit. As it turned out, I was the only one to not get ripped off by an airport taxi. I made a loose plan for the next day to visit the Taal Volcano.

I woke up ready to go after another cold night. As soon as breakfast was in my stomach I headed for the bus station. The first stop is easy, but finding the next pickup is always the hard part. After a bit I finally gave up and hailed a taxi. It turned out I could have walked the rest of the way if I had known where to go. I got some water and a snack then hopped on my bus. It was a fairly decent transport, like a bus you might get in other cities. It felt a bit out of place. I was headed out of the city so I hoped I would see some of the countryside, but really only saw urban sprawl until near the end.

I was pretty worried that I had gotten off at the wrong spot and was going to be stuck in the middle of nowhere at first. I had the impression that there would be people waiting around to take tourists to the volcano lake when I got off. Where I was did not even constitute a bus stop hardly. There was not even a road sign.

Fortunately, with some searching I found a tout who called over a trike. For fast transportation in the Philippines a trike is hard to beat, provided safety is not a big concern. They weld a makeshift sidecar to a motorcycle, usually with a roof. No seat belts are provided so it's best to have a strong grip.

Down the mountain.

Cow

The fast paced ride down the winding mountain road was exhilarating. I never knew what would be waiting around the next turn. The driver had to dodge us around some rocks that had fallen onto our side of the road while I prayed that we did not meet oncoming traffic. The view that sped by was worth the danger though. I could finally see some of the tropical scenery while careening around the curves. I could even make out the lake that was my destination. The only wildlife I was able to spot, though, were some cows that looked as starved as the people.

My volcanic destination.

The driver finally came to a stop at a boatshop. That is how things are arranged in the Philippines. Everyone sends you to the person he has a deal with. I negotiated my trip arrangements with the manager. He wanted more than I was expecting from my research. I told him, truthfully, that I could not afford the bus back at that price. Seeing he was about to lose me, he knocked the price down as a "special" deal.

Pro Tip: Don’t be afraid to haggle. No the local rules on it so you do not appear rude though.

I was led down to an outrigger for the trip to the volcanic island. I turned down the offer of a poncho. I was hot enough that getting splashed sounded good. It was the first time that day that I had to really relax. As the boat splashed through the waves I did not have to worry about getting off at the right spot or holding on for dear life. I just watched as the volcano moved closer.

When we reached the island I nimbly crossed the boats and planks to the shore. I was determined to not look like one of the rich gawkers that complain about the lack of air conditioning.  A boy showed me to where the mules were waiting. I had chosen to ride up because I was told it would be faster. Honestly, I would have been ahead to go up on foot.

I was paired with a bare foot guide who kept up with my mount. The red trail was dusty and a cloud was kicked up by the people in front of me. It was a good thing that I had grabbed a face mask. The rusty dust choked the air and stung the eyes. I had to focus most of my attention on not slipping off of my cantankerous mount. Eventually I asked my guide to hold my water bottle so I could use both hands. Needless to say I felt quite dumb at that point. I almost got off of the mule to walk up.

Smoke issues from the ground. The sun came back out on the trip up.

When not hanging on for dear life, well to avoid a bruised backside at any rate, I was able to glimpse the surrounding terrain. Past red rocks I could see the tropical foliage. Beyond that the blue lake stretched back to the shore. I was reminded that this was more than an island by whips of white gas venting from the earth. The volcanic puffs wafted in the air as I was shook up the trail towards the waiting caldera.

Standing on a volcano.

My guide led me up to the edge on foot where I could finally see what had drawn me all this way. It was quite the view. Inside the volcano was another lake. Far below us its bluegreen water stretched out. It is a funny feeling to be looking down at a lake inside of a lake. I could see past the edge to the greater lake beyond. Looking closely I could see steam vents by the shore as another reminder that this was a very active volcano.

My mascot.

There were people waiting up there of course, trying to get what they could out of the tourists. Even before I had dismounted a young girl asked if I wanted to buy my guide a drink. So I fished out some change and bought him a coke. Interestingly there were people with golf clubs that would sell you a ball to drive as far out over the lake as you could. That struck me as less than eco-friendly, and I was about broke anyway. A man had also taken my picture on the ride up and pushed me to buy the polaroid. I relented and now have a picture of me looking like a jackass on top of a jackass.

As pretty as it was, it is the kind of thing you look at for a few minutes then leave. The journey was longer than the viewing much as cooking is longer than the meal. If I had more time I might have tried hiking down to the lake, but I wanted off of the island before dark. The ride back down was no less jolting, but at least I didn't feel like I would slip off. The boat ride back let me relax again, though the water felt colder as the sun dropped lower. The ride back up the mountain was more good fun. I was a bit more prepared for clicking some photos.

This is where the return becomes...complex. Public restrooms are not so available in Manila. While I am not above going on a tree, the bus stop was in town. Speaking of which, the stop was again not marked so I had to ask a tout outside of a hotel who was nice enough to point the way. So on the long bus ride back I was forced to hold my bladder while watching bad scifi movies. The kind of stuff that is two steps bellow Sharknado bad. The worst part is I didn't even get to see the end of the second movie! When I got off of the bus I tried to find a bathroom, even asking a shop if I could use theirs. When that failed, I did what the locals do, I found the side of a building. Unfortunately as I was recreating the Mississippi River in the gutter a security guard interrupted me. So I had to zip up and skedattle. The last thing I needed was to spend the last of my money bribing the police.

So, after the troubles of the night before, I did the sensible thing and just hired a taxi. Back at the hostel I spent some time chatting with the other guests. I hoped I might find someone to hang out with the next day, but no such luck. So instead I played jenga with the hostel staff until I was ready for bed.

The final day, I wake up and pack my gear. I am tired, have a headache, and generally ready to go home to Taiwan. Unfortunately my flight was not till the afternoon so I had a lot of time to kill. No other guests wanted to do anything with me and I did not have a lot of options. So, I napped. Yes, I layed down on a beanbag and napped.

Do not worry, that is not all. Even feeling lousy, I don’t like to waste time. The only real option was walking to a historic district that was nearby. I walked back to where I had gotten on the jeepneas before. I walked around the square and enjoyed the view of a statue depicting a hero from the Philippines history. He looked pretty cool holding up this sword and shield.

I walked down to the bay walk. I was suppose to follow it to the historic district. The bay was nothing much to look at. As I continued down the path I had to walk around homeless people. I felt as though I was invading their home just by walking down the path. I walked until I even came to the American embassy. I did not reach the historic district though. Maybe I should have walked farther, maybe my directions were bad. I turned back and walked some the other way, trying to enjoy the weather. Perhaps the most striking thing of the walk was seeing someone living up in a tree. Those without learn to make do.

I went back to the hostel and got my backpack. A cab took me to the airport. The airport sucks. Case in point, the terminals are not connected. I ended up at the wrong terminal. That meant I had to hire another cab to get to the right one. I was ready to be done with things at that point. My trials were not done when I got stopped by security. They said there was a knife in my backpack. They were corrected. Fortunately, with a bit of fast hands and changing pockets I convinced them they were wrong, or at least that it was not worth holding up the line to keep searching. Things were pretty uneventful the rest of the way home.

Pro Tip: Make sure to keep a bit of your home currency ready to buy things like a bus ticket, dinner, and minutes for your phone when you land. Keep your keys someplace easy to get to.

It might sound like something of a dreadful trip. I certainly warn everyone about going there. It was undeniably memorable though. It was eye opening in the way it forced me to see things I never would have before. The danger went well beyond anything I was use to. My comfort zone was destroyed. I proved things to myself though. I proved I could survive doing something like that. I had the cunning, awareness, and attitude to come out on top from a trip where others were less fortunate. I avoided being robbed, taken advantage of, and bullied. That was something to learn from and grow.

Look at that tired schmuck.