Stepping into History and Tinikling the Traditional Way

It was time for us to go back to Intramuros for an exploration. Intramuros is an old walled city left by the Spanish when they ruled the Philippines for 400 years. The thick stone walls are now weathered with years of use, pollution and a few world wars. Black tarnish and green moss compete for the most space of the wall. Inside narrow cobblestone streets are encased with European architectural buildings and piazza styled homes.

There are, of course, still the jeepneys and the poor areas of the city that remind you we are still in the Philippines, yet the European touch thrives. We parked the car in a lot in between two giant cathedrals dating back to the 1500s (one of which I have photos in the post “The Cemetery is closed...but the church is open”). Of course some guy wearing shorts and a white t-shirt came up and asked for money for parking. I paid him 20 pesos (Fifty US cents) even though I am pretty sure the lot was free public parking anyway. He watched Boeing while we were gone.

The northern most part of the city is Fort Santiago. In between the river and a moat, Fort Santiago is another walled complex within the walled city.  Both the Spanish and the Americans used the Fort at different times and remnants of their barracks can still be seen. The Spanish barracks are old red brick now crawling with beautiful vines and moss, while all that remains of the American barracks are large grey cement walls with boarded up windows. Tall trees and untrimmed bushes surround the house so even in broad daylight I thought it looked creepy. Lady Hiva said, “Cool! Can I have the camera to take a picture of that?” (Did I ever mention that I detest Halloween and that is her FAVORITE holiday? I prefer more happy holidays like Christmas.)

Jose Rizal was imprisoned here before his execution. I posted about him too before when we went to Rizal Park. He was the father of the revolution to free the Philippines from the Spanish colonizers. They have rebuilt the home he was imprisoned in and now is a memorial to him. He was a brave man, one who stood up for his beliefs even when it was a huge personal sacrifice.

 

We watched the end of a wedding at San Agustin Cathedral and decided from the two weddings we saw here in Intramuros, this must be the place where wealthy people get married. At the end of the wedding the couple let two white pigeons go. Must be symbolic, not sure how. I will have to ask someone. I thought it was funny because the pigeons only flew 5 feet and landed on the car just behind the photographer. I hope the length of the flight of the pigeons does not symbolize the length of the marriage. Yikes! Old ladies started to grab them to make them fly away but they just hopped to the other side of the car!

 Next we went to explore Casa Manila. A huge home built in the Spanish/Italian piazza style. The home looks like it is hundreds of years old, but truly is was a project of Imelda Marcos in 1981 so the building is about our age. It was beautiful—white rock walls, hardwood floors, elegant staircases, and a variety of chandeliers. They style of reminded us of Iolani Palace in Hawaii. We spent almost an hour looking around it. We liked it so much that even Lady Hiva, who tells me daily she DOES NOT want a big house when we build someday, said that she wants a house with an open court yard and all the rooms have large windows that open to it. Thanks Imelda. Actually, it was sad to think that this lavish house was built for tourism purposes when there were thousands of starving people that could have used the money.

We ended up eating at Barbara’s restaurant--a buffet that included a cultural dancing show all for under $30 total! Barbara’s has dark ornate pillars and furniture to match with white linen table cloths and expensive silverware. They sat us in the window booth that of course over looked the courtyard from the fourth floor. They staff was extremely friendly and wanted to know why we were only “eating a little bit.” The truth is, our plates were already piled high.

They did Spanish dances, traditional Filipino cultural dances from all the islands and some mixes of both (like Filipino dance steps to salsa music). I thought it was fun to see the tinikling steps. I remember when Madre had us go to Pier 1 Imports years ago to buy bamboo so she could teach her class how to tinikle. She had learned in Hawaii when she went to school there. I always thought it was a Hawaiian dance until I went to Hawaii to school and found out it was actually Filipino.  

Some things are...just DIFFERENT

Now that we have been living here in the Philippines for a month we have seen how some things are just different. For example, in the States people were (maybe still are) offended and screamed "It is violating" when airport security decided to do more frequent 'pat-downs.' However here pat-downs are the norm. There is a security woman and a man standing at every door into the mall, the grocery store, the movies, and restaurants. But alas, don't fret because they do smile and greet you friendly as they inspect the treasure in your bags and pat your jewels.

Another example is the food industry. In the States organic food is a heated political and health debate. "Do you know where your food is prepared?" Most people in the States think they do, yet are shocked coming to a place where meat is not magically shrink wrapped in the cooler at the market. The pig for next month's pork chops is usually in the yard; the fish in the store are not fileted already and but have blank glassy eyes staring out at you; prawns really are not pink until they are cooked, and they are entertainingly active in their alive pre-cooked tank; and eggs still have bird poop on them when they are packaged! I debated today when Lady Hiva asked me to crack two eggs for her cookies if I should wash the egg before I cracked it, hahaha!

We have seen so many taxi drivers, with all sorts of personalities. The other day Hiva was riding somewhere and the driver stopped the banana seller--at every major light there are salespeople toting goods from car parts, dustpans, water and food that you can roll your window down and buy--and bought a few bananas, he then asked if Hiva wanted one because she needed to eat breakfast and "bananas are good for your breakfast."  Now, would a cabby in NYC even CARE if he ate in front of you? More than that, would he even care if you ate breakfast or not as long as you paid the fare? See, it is just different.

One of biggest differences for Hiva and I (other than driving, but we will discuss that later) is shopping. As you have read in previous posts, Lady Hiva LOVES to shop! She already knows the way to all the malls--well maybe not all, but it seems like she has found a new one everyday to explore when I get home from work--now the malls are our frame of reference. A common question at our house is, "Is that next to Glorietta mall or closer to Greenhills?" Often I am fascinated by the sheer AMOUNT of employees at a mall. Everywhere you turn there are helpers. They want to please so badly that once you select something you never touch it again until it is paid for, wrapped intricately in brown paper, and you are ready to head out the door. Talk about service! Mall in America need some lessons.

Sometimes it is overwhelming though, "Sir, Maam you can buy______" can be heard wherever we go. It does not help that my appearance somehow is a neon light that says "RICH AMERICAN COMING, BE EXTRA NICE AND HE WILL BUY SOMETHING." I have to laugh when they even ask me to buy something when we are standing in the women's clothing section??? Hmmm... Usually if you stop, point, ask the price or any combination of these it is a trigger for them to help you find what you need. Even if you were just plain old looking, I have become selective in what I point and ask about. I have to hold back my laughter sometimes because they will usually grab something off the shelf to see if I like it. I cannot figure out if they just grab the nearest item to them, if they really like that item, or they think I WOULD really like it. Either way it always ends up being the ugliest thing on the shelf and then I resort to thinking they are only trying to pawn off the item to the American because he can afford ugly things! HAHA. For the most part it is nice to have the helpfulness, there have only been a few times that we both get so overwhelmed with help we have to go back out for a breather.

We bought a used SUV today, it is nice to now think we are done with  taxis. It was fun to drive around. We took a driving tour of Manila, including a photo stop at the LDS Temple. We got some photos of how neighborhoods change so much from large pristine glass high rises, to gated mansions, and finally the packed housing for the poor. The stark contrast, as I have mentioned before, is startling sometimes. You can see that in the photos above. We took Bryan to Makati today and he could not get over that we were in the same city. He just kept echoing what Hiva and I have said several times, "It feels like we are in LA here." There was one time I counted 7 lanes across on a road with three lanes!

We stopped at Rizal Park. Jose Rizal is a--no make that--THE Filipino Hero. During the time of the Spanish, he wrote several books and united people enough to start a war and overcome their colonial power. He is viewed by the Filipino people in the same light Americans see George Washington. Actually, I dare say Rizal is revered more by his people. The park is beautiful. A monument is erected to him and his martyrdom. Large grass areas were filled with people picnicking, and fountains completed the landscape. We found it amusing that several men were working in the large fountain in the center of the park and it was still running! Poor guys were out there with snorkeling goggles trying to work, but hey, the aesthetics were not interrupted, must be a successful day.

There was a huge relief, to scale, at one end of all the Philippines islands. It was fun to sit and look at the country and see where we had been and where we want to go visit next.  There are several people in the park offering rides on their carriages or bikes, much like Central Park in NYC. All of their horses were healthy and looked well fed, except one. On our way out  this old guy walked up to us, pointed to Bryan, and said, "Hey I remember you from 4 years ago. I now work here in the park giving rides," to which he gestured to the bony grey horse in the road a few feet away. He scooted closer to us and continued, "I am hungry, but I will sacrifice to give you a ride on my carriage through the park and after I will take the money you give me and go eat." Wow, talk about a creative approach. We still walked.

Lady Hiva and I are loving Manila, the Filipino people are so friendly and warm. They especially like when we are willing to spend time with them and ask questions about their culture, lives and language. Despite all the many differences, we still find moments that it is beginning to feel like home.