Two hours from Melbourne to Sydney, thirteen hours from Sydney to San Francisco, and then.... five hours from San Francisco to D.C. We're finally home.
Nine countries and 184 days later we have arrived home during the coldest cold spell that D.C. has seen in seven years. Coming back was like jumping from the frying pan into the freezer.
I've been doing a lot of contemplation about the trip these last few weeks. It's been one of those trips of a lifetime full of every imaginable extreme emotion. My memory is a photo album full of places and things whose beauty will stay with me forever and I saw some scenes that will always haunt me. I scraped the surface of getting to know and understand some countries that I had only read or dreamt about. I learned a lot of geography.
People often come back from long trips with a horror story or two about their health or being robbed or something. But despite the places we were and the ubiquitous travel advisories we both stayed very healthy except for the odd sour stomach and my bout with Typhoid. We were never robbed (though we were humourously duped more than once) and never harmed in any way (though we weren't expecting to be).
On the last flight home we took some time separately to write out ten highlights of our trip. Though we did it independantly the lists are very similar. I thought I'd share them with you.
*Neither list is in any particular order
Magi's Highlights
1. May Kaidees red curry in Bangkok
2. Shopping for textiles in Luang Prabang, Laos
3. The Phuket Vegetarian Festival food in Thailand
4. Meeting the animals at the Healesville Sanctuary outside of Melbourne, Australia
5. Renting scooters in Pai, Thailand and taking them to the hot springs
6. The beaches of Ko Tao, Thailand
7. Bungee Jumping in Phuket, Thailand
8. All of the beach dogs we met
9. Indian food in India
10. DVD shopping in Manila
Krishna's Highlights
1. Diving in Ko Tao, Thailand
2. The Healesville Sanctuary outside of Melbourne
3. The Vegetarian Festival in Phuket, Thailand
4. Markets in Luang Prabang, Laos
5. Going to my great uncle Harry's grave in Manila
6. Riding a scooter in Pai's misty mountains
7. Indian food in India
8. The Cu Chi Tunnels outside of Saigon
9. Bungee Jumping (my first and last)
10. Jeepneys in Manila
I couldn't stop at ten so I gave an honourable mention to: May Kaidee's Restaurant (Bangkok), the smiling faces carved in Angkor Thom (Cambodia), South Indian schoolkids, The Taj Mahal (India), Ao Dais (Vietnamese national dress), Singapore Airlines (they give you free socks and their vegan meals are the best!), driving in a "backwards" car in Australia, meeting Palden and having him show me how to cook Tibetan soup (India), and visiting the place where Buddha gave his first sermon (Sarnath, India).
Looking back, I'm feeling very nostalgic and I'm sad that I won't be updating ToTheSea anymore. Oh, maybe I will anyway to prevent the inevitable post-trip depression.
Thank you to everyone who tuned in regularly (or once in a while) to see what we were up. An extra special thanks to those who worked to keep our guestbook alive (I'm looking at you Emerson!).
Until next time.
Love from us both.
to the sea
"a day on the road is a day of wisdom" - vietnamese saying
Thursday, January 23, 2003
Sunday, January 19, 2003
Wombats and Dingoes and Kookaburras
It's a very smoky and grey day here in Melbourne. The fires in the surrounding forests have left city-dwellers with some heavy smoke to breathe. However, this is nothing compared to the fire devastation that has occured in Canberra. Many people have been left homeless.
We rented a car and drove out to Healesville Sanctuary, about an hour outside of town. Healesville is a place where rescued animals are rehabilitated and where rare species enter into a breeding program that will help perpetuate their species. It was the highlight of our trip to Australia because we got up close and personal with some of the most adorable animals on earth. Kangaroos and wallabies bounced by us or slept under a tree nearby, koalas nuzzled up against their trees and slept (we didn't catch them in any of their 15 minutes of daily activity), and we met a 60 lb. wombat named Velga who napped in the afternoon heat and didn't mind our hands petting her bum. The variety of birds at the sanctuary were impressive, and some had dayglo feathers whose colours I never before saw in nature.
We're going to head home to our little apartment now. We are staying a little ways out of town because we foolishly didn't plan our accomodation far enough in advance and if you didn't know, the Australian Open is on. Town is full. But that's okay, we're just a tram ride away and as a reward we have a full one-bedroom serviced apartment at a good rate.
Did you know Australians call papaya "paw-paw'? They're so quirky.
tothesea,
k~*
We rented a car and drove out to Healesville Sanctuary, about an hour outside of town. Healesville is a place where rescued animals are rehabilitated and where rare species enter into a breeding program that will help perpetuate their species. It was the highlight of our trip to Australia because we got up close and personal with some of the most adorable animals on earth. Kangaroos and wallabies bounced by us or slept under a tree nearby, koalas nuzzled up against their trees and slept (we didn't catch them in any of their 15 minutes of daily activity), and we met a 60 lb. wombat named Velga who napped in the afternoon heat and didn't mind our hands petting her bum. The variety of birds at the sanctuary were impressive, and some had dayglo feathers whose colours I never before saw in nature.
We're going to head home to our little apartment now. We are staying a little ways out of town because we foolishly didn't plan our accomodation far enough in advance and if you didn't know, the Australian Open is on. Town is full. But that's okay, we're just a tram ride away and as a reward we have a full one-bedroom serviced apartment at a good rate.
Did you know Australians call papaya "paw-paw'? They're so quirky.
tothesea,
k~*
Thursday, January 16, 2003
She's tried it and Magi can now say she doesn't like Vegemite
We're in the Immigration Museum right now in Melbourne. We're on the computer doing some supposed research on our family lineages. There isn't a line or even much demand for the computers so we don't mind using them for our own internet purposes. The museum delves into all aspects of immigration and I was quite excited by how much I have learned about Australia in the last few hours. I find the policies regarding Asian immigrants most fascinating probably because I find their recent immigration stories to be full of drama in their initial loss and desperation that leads, in many cases, to glorious and triumphant endings.
But let me take you back a few days.
On Monday, the day we left Sydney to fly here, we were waiting outside a used bookstore waiting for it to open. Our eyes were sweeping across large piles of books that we couldn't wait to take a closer look at. Across the street from us was a cafe and I noticed a head of dusty brown hair that looked awfully familiar. Upon further scrutiny I realized it was Jimmy E. Wyld! Our diving instructor from Thailand! He seemed pretty engaged in his coffee, chain-smoking, and usual running of hands through hair routine (plus he was with someone) so we didn't approach him. But it was a very strange moment indeed.
In the end the book we settled on is called Holy Cow!, and is about an Australian gal's journeys through India. Reading it has taken me back some months to the filth of Delhi and the gorgeous schoolkids riding buses in Kerala. It also reminds me of my current state of invisibility that I'm enjoying. At first not feeling like the moviestar in town was a little disappointing for the ego but now I'm enjoying not being the spectacle everywhere I go. I blend in and have come to see the effects that blending in has on a psyche. After this trip I feel like I have a little more understanding of what it feels like to be a minority (or a movie star!).
In that tune, I'd have to say I'm surprised at how diverse Australia is, at least in the two largest cities here (Sydney and Melbourne). The Asian population here is booming and you're just as likely to come across a Vietnamese or Thai restaurant as you are to see a Hungry Jack's (Australia's Burger King). Consequently I love it here... despite most restaurant's opening hours that were obviously created by numbskulls or waifs.
We have also discovered this raunchy and delightful sense of humour that Australians have. It is definitely unique despite the similarities to British and Canadian bum humour. We went to a play last night called Cloud Nine which was this incredibly raw and creative story of two generations living in the colonies. More than a few times during the performance it seemed like we were privy to an inside joke that flew over our heads. It's alright though, when I wasn't laughing at the jokes (because I didn't get it), I was laughing at the crowd of pensioners who were getting more than a giggle out of jokes most in America would see as overly perverse. This is Australian mainstream theatre and yet I couldn't help but feel that if we were watching the same play in the U.S. it would be in a small theatre with stacking chairs.
Another testimony to Australia's strange breed of people is a young man we met on the street the other day while we were waiting for the same tram as him. After asking me the time (this is a very common icebreaker here), he asked where the accent was from and proceeded to chat with us. At the end of the conversation, nearing his exit from the tram, he passed us his disposable camera and told us to use up the remaining few photos ("There's a few snaps left") and enjoy his art once we developed the film. He fancies himself an amateur photographer and told us his muse of choice is the grand ole public toilet. I snapped a goofy picture of him and then he was gone. We talked excitedly about the Aussie's love of chatting (with whomever) and then wondered aloud if the photos we are going to develop would reveal him to be a fan of kiddy porn or perhaps our stalker!
Hopefully neither.
tothesea and almost home again,
k~*
But let me take you back a few days.
On Monday, the day we left Sydney to fly here, we were waiting outside a used bookstore waiting for it to open. Our eyes were sweeping across large piles of books that we couldn't wait to take a closer look at. Across the street from us was a cafe and I noticed a head of dusty brown hair that looked awfully familiar. Upon further scrutiny I realized it was Jimmy E. Wyld! Our diving instructor from Thailand! He seemed pretty engaged in his coffee, chain-smoking, and usual running of hands through hair routine (plus he was with someone) so we didn't approach him. But it was a very strange moment indeed.
In the end the book we settled on is called Holy Cow!, and is about an Australian gal's journeys through India. Reading it has taken me back some months to the filth of Delhi and the gorgeous schoolkids riding buses in Kerala. It also reminds me of my current state of invisibility that I'm enjoying. At first not feeling like the moviestar in town was a little disappointing for the ego but now I'm enjoying not being the spectacle everywhere I go. I blend in and have come to see the effects that blending in has on a psyche. After this trip I feel like I have a little more understanding of what it feels like to be a minority (or a movie star!).
In that tune, I'd have to say I'm surprised at how diverse Australia is, at least in the two largest cities here (Sydney and Melbourne). The Asian population here is booming and you're just as likely to come across a Vietnamese or Thai restaurant as you are to see a Hungry Jack's (Australia's Burger King). Consequently I love it here... despite most restaurant's opening hours that were obviously created by numbskulls or waifs.
We have also discovered this raunchy and delightful sense of humour that Australians have. It is definitely unique despite the similarities to British and Canadian bum humour. We went to a play last night called Cloud Nine which was this incredibly raw and creative story of two generations living in the colonies. More than a few times during the performance it seemed like we were privy to an inside joke that flew over our heads. It's alright though, when I wasn't laughing at the jokes (because I didn't get it), I was laughing at the crowd of pensioners who were getting more than a giggle out of jokes most in America would see as overly perverse. This is Australian mainstream theatre and yet I couldn't help but feel that if we were watching the same play in the U.S. it would be in a small theatre with stacking chairs.
Another testimony to Australia's strange breed of people is a young man we met on the street the other day while we were waiting for the same tram as him. After asking me the time (this is a very common icebreaker here), he asked where the accent was from and proceeded to chat with us. At the end of the conversation, nearing his exit from the tram, he passed us his disposable camera and told us to use up the remaining few photos ("There's a few snaps left") and enjoy his art once we developed the film. He fancies himself an amateur photographer and told us his muse of choice is the grand ole public toilet. I snapped a goofy picture of him and then he was gone. We talked excitedly about the Aussie's love of chatting (with whomever) and then wondered aloud if the photos we are going to develop would reveal him to be a fan of kiddy porn or perhaps our stalker!
Hopefully neither.
tothesea and almost home again,
k~*
Friday, January 10, 2003
Didgeridoos and Fruits
It's confirmed, we are back in the West. On our first full day here we drank soy lattes, bought the latest edition of Adbusters, and went to the theatre to see Bowling for Columbine. If you haven't already seen this film, you really must. It's an intelligent, cynically clever, and thought-provoking look at gun culture in the USA. It also has a whole segment devoted to how Canada's gun culture is similar but radically different to that of our southern neighbours.
Today consisted of watching an Aboriginal "Didgeridoo" performance at the Art Gallery of NSW, indulging in Indian curries and Chinese desserts at the mall's food court, a couple of monorail trips, and a lot of walking in this exquisitely beautiful and green city. We also saw an exhibitions on 20th Century Design and "Fruits" (a colourful youth subculture in Japan) at the Powerhouse Museum.
I am so relieved to finally be walking around again, and especially in air that is fresh and clean. In Asia, you really don't walk either because of the fact that there are just no sidewalks or because the pollution is so toxic. I can't overstate how lucky people are to live in countries that have such clean air to breathe, air that doesn't make your throat rough and phlegmy at the end of the day. If you're in one of those countries, go outside and take a deep breath and enjoy.
Australia actually reminds me a lot of Canada. I think it goes a little further than the Commonwealth, friendly people, green cities, and socialized governments that we share. I feel like it is most similar to Canada in that it holds most interest for the people living here. Just like Canada, I think the biggest cheerleaders of Australia are Australians. Perhaps you could say that of other countries too, but it seems like Canada and Australia don't have the international fame (or infamy) that the US or UK have.
Young travellers seem to come here for the sun, beach culture, and the beer... and I'm sure a huge bonus is that it's a very far away place but still a country where people speak English. So, it's going far away and not at the same time. I guess after being in Asia for so long, Australia is a lot like being home. Don't get me wrong, home is wonderful... but it's not really that new or interesting and aside from learning about things that are unique to Australia (like the Aboriginal culture) there doesn't seem to be much learning to be had here.
Having said that, we've decided to leave a little earlier than planned. We knew it would be hard to come here in the first place, especially at the end of our trip on this budget of ours. We're now paying over ten times the amount for a hotel room than what we paid in all of the other places we've been. It's not all about money though, another part of us is just telling us it's time to get home. Since deciding to go home a little early, we are now finding ourselves rejuvenated and enjoying every moment of our time here. We hope to continue in this vein until we board our flight home in a couple of weeks.
Brrrr! Now it's time to head out and look for a jacket because Sydney is so chilly... I thought Australian summers were supposed to be HOT!?
tothesea,
k~*
Today consisted of watching an Aboriginal "Didgeridoo" performance at the Art Gallery of NSW, indulging in Indian curries and Chinese desserts at the mall's food court, a couple of monorail trips, and a lot of walking in this exquisitely beautiful and green city. We also saw an exhibitions on 20th Century Design and "Fruits" (a colourful youth subculture in Japan) at the Powerhouse Museum.
I am so relieved to finally be walking around again, and especially in air that is fresh and clean. In Asia, you really don't walk either because of the fact that there are just no sidewalks or because the pollution is so toxic. I can't overstate how lucky people are to live in countries that have such clean air to breathe, air that doesn't make your throat rough and phlegmy at the end of the day. If you're in one of those countries, go outside and take a deep breath and enjoy.
Australia actually reminds me a lot of Canada. I think it goes a little further than the Commonwealth, friendly people, green cities, and socialized governments that we share. I feel like it is most similar to Canada in that it holds most interest for the people living here. Just like Canada, I think the biggest cheerleaders of Australia are Australians. Perhaps you could say that of other countries too, but it seems like Canada and Australia don't have the international fame (or infamy) that the US or UK have.
Young travellers seem to come here for the sun, beach culture, and the beer... and I'm sure a huge bonus is that it's a very far away place but still a country where people speak English. So, it's going far away and not at the same time. I guess after being in Asia for so long, Australia is a lot like being home. Don't get me wrong, home is wonderful... but it's not really that new or interesting and aside from learning about things that are unique to Australia (like the Aboriginal culture) there doesn't seem to be much learning to be had here.
Having said that, we've decided to leave a little earlier than planned. We knew it would be hard to come here in the first place, especially at the end of our trip on this budget of ours. We're now paying over ten times the amount for a hotel room than what we paid in all of the other places we've been. It's not all about money though, another part of us is just telling us it's time to get home. Since deciding to go home a little early, we are now finding ourselves rejuvenated and enjoying every moment of our time here. We hope to continue in this vein until we board our flight home in a couple of weeks.
Brrrr! Now it's time to head out and look for a jacket because Sydney is so chilly... I thought Australian summers were supposed to be HOT!?
tothesea,
k~*
Monday, January 06, 2003
"Where Women Glow and Men Plunder"
We’re leaving Manila tomorrow but more significantly, we’re leaving Asia. My first trip to this always exhilarating (and sometimes overwhelming) continent has left me with a changed perspective on the world. And while I know this is the case, I’m still processing the details of just what an impact this trip has made on me.
And now it’s back to the west, if you consider Australia being part of the west. We fly to Sydney via Singapore tomorrow evening. Growing up with Crocodile Dundee and Men at Work, I have a quite ordinary group of stereotypes associated with Australia. It’s such a precise stereotype that I can sum it up in one sentence: The men are goofy crocodile wranglers who sit on lawn chairs in the outback where they drink beer, throw shrimp on the “barbee”, and complain about the kangaroos while their wives loudly scream something about a dingo running off the kids who she last saw snacking on Vegemite sandwiches. All that and they have a vocabulary that’s English and foreign at the same time. In the news today, the country seems to be at the height of its popularity when they have another wild, uncontrollable bush fire or when their conservative government yet again bares its hard-line attitude towards brown immigrants. (I say that because the government is also famous for ignoring the hoards of pasty English tourists that make their way there every month with working visas and then tend to forget about the visa deadline once their year is up.)
Overall, it doesn’t sound like I’m that interested in Australia. And it’s true. To be honest, we wanted to go to New Zealand instead but were not able to change our ticket. Therefore, I’m heading to Australia in hopes of bursting some of those stereotypes I’m bringing with me. I’d also love to talk to a few Aussies and find out what they think of Canada and Canadians. Before it’s all said and done I’ll probably be wishing I had another month to spend exploring the huge country/continent. If that’s true, you might find us shacked up in the outback with some Vegemite and dingoes of our own.
tothesea,
k~*
And now it’s back to the west, if you consider Australia being part of the west. We fly to Sydney via Singapore tomorrow evening. Growing up with Crocodile Dundee and Men at Work, I have a quite ordinary group of stereotypes associated with Australia. It’s such a precise stereotype that I can sum it up in one sentence: The men are goofy crocodile wranglers who sit on lawn chairs in the outback where they drink beer, throw shrimp on the “barbee”, and complain about the kangaroos while their wives loudly scream something about a dingo running off the kids who she last saw snacking on Vegemite sandwiches. All that and they have a vocabulary that’s English and foreign at the same time. In the news today, the country seems to be at the height of its popularity when they have another wild, uncontrollable bush fire or when their conservative government yet again bares its hard-line attitude towards brown immigrants. (I say that because the government is also famous for ignoring the hoards of pasty English tourists that make their way there every month with working visas and then tend to forget about the visa deadline once their year is up.)
Overall, it doesn’t sound like I’m that interested in Australia. And it’s true. To be honest, we wanted to go to New Zealand instead but were not able to change our ticket. Therefore, I’m heading to Australia in hopes of bursting some of those stereotypes I’m bringing with me. I’d also love to talk to a few Aussies and find out what they think of Canada and Canadians. Before it’s all said and done I’ll probably be wishing I had another month to spend exploring the huge country/continent. If that’s true, you might find us shacked up in the outback with some Vegemite and dingoes of our own.
tothesea,
k~*
Saturday, January 04, 2003
Biboy, Boboy, Buboy, Baboy, and Honey Pie
Quite accidentally, I stumbled upon this article online and it gave us a good chuckle so thought I'd share it with you.
When I arrived in the Philippines from the UK six years ago, one of the cultural differences to strike me was peoples’ names. The first unusual thing, from an English perspective, is that everyone here has a nickname. In the staid and boring United Kingdom, we have nicknames in kindergarten, but when we move into adulthood we tend, I am glad to say, to lose them. The second thing that struck me is that Philippine names for both girls and boys tend to be what we in the UK would regard as overbearingly cutesy for anyone over five years old. Where I come from, a boy with a nickname like Boy Blue or Honey Boy would probably be harassed at school by pre-adolescent bullies. So would girls with names like Babes, Lovely, Precious, Peachy, or Apples. Here, however, no one bats an eye.
Repeating names was another novelty to me, having never before encountered people with names like Len-Len, Let-Let, Mai-Mai, or Ning-Ning. Such names are then frequently further refined by using the "squared" symbol, as in Len2 or Mai2. This had me very confused for a while.
Then there is the trend for parents to stick to a theme when naming their children. This can be as simple as making them start with the same letter, as in Jun, Jimmy, Janice, and Joy. More imaginative parents shoot for more sophisticated forms of assonance or rhyme, as in Biboy, Boboy, Buboy, Baboy (notice the names get worse the more kids there are -- best to be born early or you could end up being a Baboy). Even better, parents can create whole families of, say, desserts (Apple Pie, Cherry Pie, Honey Pie) or flowers (Rose, Daffodil, Tulip). The main advantage of such combinations is that they look great painted across your trunk if you're a cab driver. (That's another thing I'd never seen before coming to Manila - taxis with the driver's kids' names on the trunk.)
Another whole eye-opening field for the foreign visitor is the phenomenon of the "composite" name. This includes names like Jejomar (for Jesus, Joseph and Mary), and the remarkable Luzviminda (for Luzon, Visayas and Mindanao- the three island groups of the Philippines).
There is also a whole separate field of name games -- those where the parents have exhibited a creative sense of humor on purpose. I once had my house in London painted by a Czech decorator by the name of Peter Peter. I could never figure out if his parents had a fantastic sense of humour or no imagination at all -- it had to be one or the other. But here in the Philippines, wonderful imagination and humour is often applied to the naming process. My favourites include Edgar Allan Pe, Jonathan Livingston Sy, Magic Chiongson, Chica Go, and my girlfriend's very own sister, Van Go.
How wonderful to come from a country where imagination and exoticism rule the world of names. Where else in the world could the head of the Church really be called Cardinal Sin? Where else in the world could Angel, Gigi, and Mandy be grown-up men? Where else could you go through adult life unembarrassed and unscathed with a name like Mosquito, or Pepper, or Honey Boy? Where else but the Philippines?!
by Matthew Sunderland
When I arrived in the Philippines from the UK six years ago, one of the cultural differences to strike me was peoples’ names. The first unusual thing, from an English perspective, is that everyone here has a nickname. In the staid and boring United Kingdom, we have nicknames in kindergarten, but when we move into adulthood we tend, I am glad to say, to lose them. The second thing that struck me is that Philippine names for both girls and boys tend to be what we in the UK would regard as overbearingly cutesy for anyone over five years old. Where I come from, a boy with a nickname like Boy Blue or Honey Boy would probably be harassed at school by pre-adolescent bullies. So would girls with names like Babes, Lovely, Precious, Peachy, or Apples. Here, however, no one bats an eye.
Repeating names was another novelty to me, having never before encountered people with names like Len-Len, Let-Let, Mai-Mai, or Ning-Ning. Such names are then frequently further refined by using the "squared" symbol, as in Len2 or Mai2. This had me very confused for a while.
Then there is the trend for parents to stick to a theme when naming their children. This can be as simple as making them start with the same letter, as in Jun, Jimmy, Janice, and Joy. More imaginative parents shoot for more sophisticated forms of assonance or rhyme, as in Biboy, Boboy, Buboy, Baboy (notice the names get worse the more kids there are -- best to be born early or you could end up being a Baboy). Even better, parents can create whole families of, say, desserts (Apple Pie, Cherry Pie, Honey Pie) or flowers (Rose, Daffodil, Tulip). The main advantage of such combinations is that they look great painted across your trunk if you're a cab driver. (That's another thing I'd never seen before coming to Manila - taxis with the driver's kids' names on the trunk.)
Another whole eye-opening field for the foreign visitor is the phenomenon of the "composite" name. This includes names like Jejomar (for Jesus, Joseph and Mary), and the remarkable Luzviminda (for Luzon, Visayas and Mindanao- the three island groups of the Philippines).
There is also a whole separate field of name games -- those where the parents have exhibited a creative sense of humor on purpose. I once had my house in London painted by a Czech decorator by the name of Peter Peter. I could never figure out if his parents had a fantastic sense of humour or no imagination at all -- it had to be one or the other. But here in the Philippines, wonderful imagination and humour is often applied to the naming process. My favourites include Edgar Allan Pe, Jonathan Livingston Sy, Magic Chiongson, Chica Go, and my girlfriend's very own sister, Van Go.
How wonderful to come from a country where imagination and exoticism rule the world of names. Where else in the world could the head of the Church really be called Cardinal Sin? Where else in the world could Angel, Gigi, and Mandy be grown-up men? Where else could you go through adult life unembarrassed and unscathed with a name like Mosquito, or Pepper, or Honey Boy? Where else but the Philippines?!
by Matthew Sunderland
Tuesday, December 31, 2002
The Extravagant and Eccentric Jeepney
Some of you have already stumbled upon our tribute to jeepneys in the photograph section of this website. Normally, I’m not at all interested in vehicles. I can barely distinguish a Jaguar from a Hyundai without first looking at the symbol on the steering wheel. But since jeepneys have been a daily source of visual entertainment and amusement while we’ve been here in Philippines, I couldn’t very well leave them unmentioned in this journal.
Jeepneys were originally built by modifying left over American army surplus military jeeps after WWII. The war had destroyed almost all engine-driven vehicles, and people were in dire need of transportation. The Americans had a dilemma about how to dispose of the surplus jeeps rusting away at various depots. A mutually convenient solution materialized.
The war vehicles were sold to Filipinos who then transformed them into commercial transportation units. The jeepney became a permanent solution to the postwar transportation problem. And everywhere in the Philippines, jeepney owners enthusiastically shouted, “Let the decorating begin!”
Ornamentation is what makes the jeepneys unique, not only from other forms of transport but also from one another. Jeepneys are like Filipino snowflakes, in that no two are alike.
Indeed, it seems every aspect of the jeepney is designed for function and more importantly, embellishment. First and foremost, the long, smooth side of the jeepney is the ultimate painter's canvas and is often decorated with anything from Disney collages to astrological tributes to vistas of American cities. The bumper is not just to ward off bumps, but to hold more artwork. Even the mud flaps are prettified with a sun motif, or five stars surrounding the title of a popular or sentimental song such as "Love Me Tender” or “You're My Everything.” The ceiling is another lovely space for assorted designs such as the names of the operator's family members, the titles of some popular songs, or comic strips with Garfield being a clear favourite.
Painting aside, there are many other aspects of the decoration that rely on a more homey style of ornament. One cannot help but notice the jeepney’s wide side windows with the red and yellow cloth or crocheted curtains, the jalousies, and when it rains, the plastic awning that is let down.
By looking at the photos I’ve posted, you might wonder how the driver is able to see the road through all that hood ornamentation. Useless antennas, countless headlights, beaded curtains, and hubcaps block the already narrow view out the front window. The truth is, the driver’s can’t see. And you only need to attempt to cross the street in this city to discover that jeepneys, and every other Manila driver for that matter, see pedestrians as blobs of air that can simply be blown aside with a gentle swipe of the front bumper.
Since traffic lights here are mere suggestions, pedestrians do not have the right of way and fervently skirt across the street quickly to avoid bodily harm. Manila has been voted the worst city in the world for motorists and many have exclaimed that there are people who pay much more money to drive under less challenging conditions in videogames. But I think drivers in this city who complain about this have never tried crossing the street!
In recent history, there have been many attempts to eliminate the jeepney from the transportation scheme with good reason. Compared to buses, jeepneys are more wasteful since they sit fewer people, uses up almost as much gasoline, and spend almost as much on tires and spare parts. Numbering 27,000 in Manila alone, they aggravate the energy crisis, perpetuate dependence on multi-national corporations, and crowd the streets.
Crowding of streets is what Manila needs least. Traffic here is in such a crisis that the days you are allowed to drive your car depends on the number of your license plate. And demonstrative of traffic woes, in Tagalog, “traffic” is not just a mere noun, but also an adjective, “matrapik”, and the most widely used excuse for just about anything.
All the attempts however, have failed seemingly because the jeepney is now part of the Filipino cultural identity and the overwhelming favoured mode of transport. And so this joyous vehicle that is literature, pop art, ambulant home, statement of belief and personality, and, at the moment, King of the Road, will remain.
Happy New Year everyone! We're celebrating by listening to our new favourite band Die Moulinettes, a 50 ml. bottle of amaretto, and a Crazy Eights championship. Woohoo!
tothesea,
k~*
P.S. FYI, we "borrowed" the Jeepney poem...
Jeepneys were originally built by modifying left over American army surplus military jeeps after WWII. The war had destroyed almost all engine-driven vehicles, and people were in dire need of transportation. The Americans had a dilemma about how to dispose of the surplus jeeps rusting away at various depots. A mutually convenient solution materialized.
The war vehicles were sold to Filipinos who then transformed them into commercial transportation units. The jeepney became a permanent solution to the postwar transportation problem. And everywhere in the Philippines, jeepney owners enthusiastically shouted, “Let the decorating begin!”
Ornamentation is what makes the jeepneys unique, not only from other forms of transport but also from one another. Jeepneys are like Filipino snowflakes, in that no two are alike.
Indeed, it seems every aspect of the jeepney is designed for function and more importantly, embellishment. First and foremost, the long, smooth side of the jeepney is the ultimate painter's canvas and is often decorated with anything from Disney collages to astrological tributes to vistas of American cities. The bumper is not just to ward off bumps, but to hold more artwork. Even the mud flaps are prettified with a sun motif, or five stars surrounding the title of a popular or sentimental song such as "Love Me Tender” or “You're My Everything.” The ceiling is another lovely space for assorted designs such as the names of the operator's family members, the titles of some popular songs, or comic strips with Garfield being a clear favourite.
Painting aside, there are many other aspects of the decoration that rely on a more homey style of ornament. One cannot help but notice the jeepney’s wide side windows with the red and yellow cloth or crocheted curtains, the jalousies, and when it rains, the plastic awning that is let down.
By looking at the photos I’ve posted, you might wonder how the driver is able to see the road through all that hood ornamentation. Useless antennas, countless headlights, beaded curtains, and hubcaps block the already narrow view out the front window. The truth is, the driver’s can’t see. And you only need to attempt to cross the street in this city to discover that jeepneys, and every other Manila driver for that matter, see pedestrians as blobs of air that can simply be blown aside with a gentle swipe of the front bumper.
Since traffic lights here are mere suggestions, pedestrians do not have the right of way and fervently skirt across the street quickly to avoid bodily harm. Manila has been voted the worst city in the world for motorists and many have exclaimed that there are people who pay much more money to drive under less challenging conditions in videogames. But I think drivers in this city who complain about this have never tried crossing the street!
In recent history, there have been many attempts to eliminate the jeepney from the transportation scheme with good reason. Compared to buses, jeepneys are more wasteful since they sit fewer people, uses up almost as much gasoline, and spend almost as much on tires and spare parts. Numbering 27,000 in Manila alone, they aggravate the energy crisis, perpetuate dependence on multi-national corporations, and crowd the streets.
Crowding of streets is what Manila needs least. Traffic here is in such a crisis that the days you are allowed to drive your car depends on the number of your license plate. And demonstrative of traffic woes, in Tagalog, “traffic” is not just a mere noun, but also an adjective, “matrapik”, and the most widely used excuse for just about anything.
All the attempts however, have failed seemingly because the jeepney is now part of the Filipino cultural identity and the overwhelming favoured mode of transport. And so this joyous vehicle that is literature, pop art, ambulant home, statement of belief and personality, and, at the moment, King of the Road, will remain.
Happy New Year everyone! We're celebrating by listening to our new favourite band Die Moulinettes, a 50 ml. bottle of amaretto, and a Crazy Eights championship. Woohoo!
tothesea,
k~*
P.S. FYI, we "borrowed" the Jeepney poem...
Saturday, December 28, 2002
Visiting Great Uncle Harry
Today we woke up with an extraordinary mission. We were quite surprised to find out yesterday that my paternal great uncle, Harry Mercer, died during WWII in the second wave of the Battle of Leyte and is buried in Manila. He died in combat on January 11, 1945, just less than two months after the troops in his division had landed in this country. Sadly, he never lived to realize the allied troops’ victory against the Japanese and the subsequent liberation of the Philippines.
To beat the midday sun, we headed out the door first thing in the morning. We walked for about an hour through a relatively quiet area of Manila, asking machine-gun toting guards for directions along the way, until we found the American Manila War Cemetery. Harry was buried in the U.S. Army cemetery because for a short time he was a faux-yankee. Since he was too young to enlist with the Canadian troops, he went south across the border, lied about his age and residence and went to war with the Americans after a single year of training. Harry’s gleaming white marble cross headstone has forever etched him as a resident of Massachusetts. He now rests beside by Americans on all sides except to his right, where a Filipino soldier lies.
After taking a few photos to show family back home, Magi walked off to look at a large memorial nearby. I sat by the grave and was awestruck by the serene setting that was to be found in such a bustling and overcrowded city such as this. Magi returned with two handfuls of white and yellow flowers that had fallen from a nearby tree. We scattered them around Harry’s grave and rested the most beautiful one on an arm of the white marble cross.
It was quite a poignant morning because I am the first family member to ever visit Harry’s grave. My aunt Cheryl commented on how wonderful it would have been for my poppy to know that someone in the family had visited his brother after all these years. I went there and returned home carrying that precise emotion.
tothesea,
k~*
To beat the midday sun, we headed out the door first thing in the morning. We walked for about an hour through a relatively quiet area of Manila, asking machine-gun toting guards for directions along the way, until we found the American Manila War Cemetery. Harry was buried in the U.S. Army cemetery because for a short time he was a faux-yankee. Since he was too young to enlist with the Canadian troops, he went south across the border, lied about his age and residence and went to war with the Americans after a single year of training. Harry’s gleaming white marble cross headstone has forever etched him as a resident of Massachusetts. He now rests beside by Americans on all sides except to his right, where a Filipino soldier lies.
After taking a few photos to show family back home, Magi walked off to look at a large memorial nearby. I sat by the grave and was awestruck by the serene setting that was to be found in such a bustling and overcrowded city such as this. Magi returned with two handfuls of white and yellow flowers that had fallen from a nearby tree. We scattered them around Harry’s grave and rested the most beautiful one on an arm of the white marble cross.
It was quite a poignant morning because I am the first family member to ever visit Harry’s grave. My aunt Cheryl commented on how wonderful it would have been for my poppy to know that someone in the family had visited his brother after all these years. I went there and returned home carrying that precise emotion.
tothesea,
k~*
Wednesday, December 25, 2002
Thirteen Lessons You Learn from a Dog
1. When loved ones come home, always run to greet them.
2. Never pass up the opportunity to go for a joy ride.
3. Let others know when they've invaded your territory.
4. Take naps and always stretch before rising.
5. Run, romp, and play daily.
6. Eat with gusto and enthusiasm.
7. Never pretend to be something you're not.
8. If what you want lies buried, dig until you find it.
9. When someone is having a bad day, sit close by and nuzzle them gently.
10. Delight in the simple joy of a long walk.
11. Avoid biting when a simple growl will do.
12. When you are happy, dance around and wag your entire body.
13. Never miss your chance to have a treat.
Happy Holidays everyone! Maligayang Pasko!
Love,
Krishna & Magi
2. Never pass up the opportunity to go for a joy ride.
3. Let others know when they've invaded your territory.
4. Take naps and always stretch before rising.
5. Run, romp, and play daily.
6. Eat with gusto and enthusiasm.
7. Never pretend to be something you're not.
8. If what you want lies buried, dig until you find it.
9. When someone is having a bad day, sit close by and nuzzle them gently.
10. Delight in the simple joy of a long walk.
11. Avoid biting when a simple growl will do.
12. When you are happy, dance around and wag your entire body.
13. Never miss your chance to have a treat.
Happy Holidays everyone! Maligayang Pasko!
Love,
Krishna & Magi
Thursday, December 12, 2002
Paki Balot Ito
Normally around this time of year I’d be dreaming of sipping tea by the hearth and romping in the snow with some fun-loving dogs. Snow gives the holidays a magical quality that is only matched by the colours of autumn. Even the Filipinas we’ve talked to long for a bit of the white stuff. Fat chance of ever seeing snow in Manila. December is as cold as it gets and the temperature rarely dips below 25 C (80 F). Here, the holiday season for us is marked by escaping the heat in an A/C apartment and taking daily dips in the pool (we have become excellent lap swimmers!). Pumpkin pies and sugar cookies are replaced by mangoes and sapin-sapin, a delicious coconut milk-based dessert.
In our guidebook, Filipino cuisine has humourously been described as “short on greens and long on intestines.” Ironically, dessert is often flavoured with or made of vegetables and even ice-cream comes in flavours such as corn, avocado, and purple yam (we even saw cheese-flavoured ice cream). The sapin-sapin that we are so fond of usually has a purple yam (ube) swirl in it, and I must say it is delicious. If there is one aspect of cuisine that Filipinos have mastered, it’s dessert.
I’ve been immersing myself in Filipino history. Their dramatic past (and present) makes for a captivating read. This irresistible 7,107 island archipelago whose total land mass is comparable to Arizona, has been colonized by all of these countries in this order: Spain (who held on for 400 years after the explorer Magellan first landed on its shores; and who named the country after King Philip II), Portugal (only a partial takeover until the Spanish overtook them), Britain (just a brief colonizing stint), Japan (for a ruthless four-year period during WWII), and finally, the US (who bought the nation for US$20,000 in a package deal that also gave them Guam and Puerto Rico). Finally, a long-awaited Independence came in 1946. Strangely enough, Filipinos (or Pinoys as they call themselves) annually celebrate their Independence from Spain in 1898 instead of the date of their actual independence. Maybe this is because the revolt against the Spanish brought forward the most popular national heroes or because the Spanish held the Philippines for so many more years than their other colonizers. This staunchly independent nation is now home to 84.5 million people, 1/8 of which live in metropolitan Manila.
Enduring an onslaught of typhoons, flash-floods, volcanoes, and earthquakes, the U.N. has named the Philippines the most disaster-prone country on earth. Notably, it is also home to the largest robbery in history (by ex-president Ferdinand Marcos and his shoe-loving wife Imelda) who stole an estimated US$5-10 billion from the people of the Philippines. Fitting their fun-loving nature despite such natural and man-made adversity, those in Manila can proudly say that their city has the world’s largest nightclub.
According to a recent language survey in Canada, Pilipino is in the top five spoken languages of Manitoba, Nunavut, and the Northwest Territories!! (Are you gasping with surprise? We are.) With Magi’s help, I’ve learned a few phrases though neither of them will get me very far in Manila (or Iqaluit for that matter). In a strange, and now laughable, dream the other night I was abducted by guerillas in Manila and spent the entire dream saying my two best phrases in Pilipino which are, “My name is Krishna” and “Can you put this in a doggy-bag?” My aim was to try and convince my captors that I was Filipina so they would let me go. It didn’t work.
Life is calm right now despite a slew of very eventful dreams. Aside from doing some initial planning for our trip around Australia, it seems we are taking a brief vacation from our holiday. Though we haven’t done much exploring or traveling within the Philippines, I must say that so far, this is some of the best quality time I’ve had on our trip. It’s nice to be able to sit back and watch the world happen, especially at this time of year when things usually seem to feel a little more hectic. We decided to stay here so that we wouldn’t find ourselves celebrating the holidays in a guesthouse somewhere in the outback. So, we are not only looking forward to Christmas and New Years, but Magi's 26th birthday next Wednesday as well.
tothesea,
k~*
In our guidebook, Filipino cuisine has humourously been described as “short on greens and long on intestines.” Ironically, dessert is often flavoured with or made of vegetables and even ice-cream comes in flavours such as corn, avocado, and purple yam (we even saw cheese-flavoured ice cream). The sapin-sapin that we are so fond of usually has a purple yam (ube) swirl in it, and I must say it is delicious. If there is one aspect of cuisine that Filipinos have mastered, it’s dessert.
I’ve been immersing myself in Filipino history. Their dramatic past (and present) makes for a captivating read. This irresistible 7,107 island archipelago whose total land mass is comparable to Arizona, has been colonized by all of these countries in this order: Spain (who held on for 400 years after the explorer Magellan first landed on its shores; and who named the country after King Philip II), Portugal (only a partial takeover until the Spanish overtook them), Britain (just a brief colonizing stint), Japan (for a ruthless four-year period during WWII), and finally, the US (who bought the nation for US$20,000 in a package deal that also gave them Guam and Puerto Rico). Finally, a long-awaited Independence came in 1946. Strangely enough, Filipinos (or Pinoys as they call themselves) annually celebrate their Independence from Spain in 1898 instead of the date of their actual independence. Maybe this is because the revolt against the Spanish brought forward the most popular national heroes or because the Spanish held the Philippines for so many more years than their other colonizers. This staunchly independent nation is now home to 84.5 million people, 1/8 of which live in metropolitan Manila.
Enduring an onslaught of typhoons, flash-floods, volcanoes, and earthquakes, the U.N. has named the Philippines the most disaster-prone country on earth. Notably, it is also home to the largest robbery in history (by ex-president Ferdinand Marcos and his shoe-loving wife Imelda) who stole an estimated US$5-10 billion from the people of the Philippines. Fitting their fun-loving nature despite such natural and man-made adversity, those in Manila can proudly say that their city has the world’s largest nightclub.
According to a recent language survey in Canada, Pilipino is in the top five spoken languages of Manitoba, Nunavut, and the Northwest Territories!! (Are you gasping with surprise? We are.) With Magi’s help, I’ve learned a few phrases though neither of them will get me very far in Manila (or Iqaluit for that matter). In a strange, and now laughable, dream the other night I was abducted by guerillas in Manila and spent the entire dream saying my two best phrases in Pilipino which are, “My name is Krishna” and “Can you put this in a doggy-bag?” My aim was to try and convince my captors that I was Filipina so they would let me go. It didn’t work.
Life is calm right now despite a slew of very eventful dreams. Aside from doing some initial planning for our trip around Australia, it seems we are taking a brief vacation from our holiday. Though we haven’t done much exploring or traveling within the Philippines, I must say that so far, this is some of the best quality time I’ve had on our trip. It’s nice to be able to sit back and watch the world happen, especially at this time of year when things usually seem to feel a little more hectic. We decided to stay here so that we wouldn’t find ourselves celebrating the holidays in a guesthouse somewhere in the outback. So, we are not only looking forward to Christmas and New Years, but Magi's 26th birthday next Wednesday as well.
tothesea,
k~*