Back to Manila

---

My fiancee' and I arrive at Ninoy Aquino International Airport a few minutes before midnight and little did we know those few extra minutes were a miraculous blessing. When applying for our marriage license a few days later, we discover that one "extra" day allowed us to reach the minimum number of days needed to wed in the Philippines. The arrangement to bypass the minimum (10 days I think) never panned out, so we had to abide by the rules.

I'm used to traveling alone and know that it is important to rush to the immigration lines to beat the other travelers. The most I've had to wait is 5 minutes. Unfortunately, this is not the case this time with my fiancee' in one hand, her wedding gown in the other. We get to the immigration lines and see one big mass of people. Yes, no true lines, but instead one big mass. One younger immigration official attempts to form lines using his hands to signal what a line should look like, but gives up when the travellers barely move.
In the Philippines, it is usually a suggestion, not an order. He he

To succeed in the Philippines, you have to understand how things work and be very flexible. Many balikbayans (returnees), foreigners, or plain old mayabang (conceited) people will try to exert their authority, but in the long run it never works. They inevitably end up more frustrated than the humbler people they are dealing with.

For example, I don't say a word to the balikbayan who quietly moves inch after inch in front of me, preventing me from joining a true line. Although two feet shorter than me, and more than 100 pounds lighter, there is no reason for me to force the issue. If he enjoys rubbing his body against strangers in this struggle for....whatever, so be it.

And when I arrive at the money changer after customs and see the sign saying, "No money changing allowed." I don't walk away in frustration. I stand behind the other balikbayan at the booth changing her Hong Kong dollars into pesos. Again, the sign is a suggestion lang. The young woman almost cleans the money changer out, so when he asks me how much, I know to keep it small. "100 US," I say. He responds with an apology that he can't cover me, so instead of being rude, I know better and lower it to 50 bucks.
Ordinarily I'd change just enough for transportation, since the rates aren't the best here, but in a few hours we'd be going to the US embassy and I'd have no chance to look for one.

When we walk out the airport doors, I wait for the familiar slam of hot air hitting me. It hits me and I could almost cry--I am in the Philippines! Because we had to stay close to the US Embassy, we declined Ate Lisa's constant request to stay with her in Muntinlupa. This means securing our own transportation at the airport. The porter leads us to a group of people on the right, thinking they would have hotel transportation. Unfortunately, our hotel does not have one waiting there so we arrange for a van to fetch us through the agents standing there.

After eight minutes waiting and watching other vans leave, I decide I no longer want to wait and begin to cross the street. I don't argue or complain, but simply show my dissatisfaction by leaving. This creates a small panic with the agents who promise, "On the way, sir." Lucky for them (and their van-driver who will get a cut) the van arrives just as I'm about to continue walking. Remember, there is no need to get frustrated, but sometimes you have to be quick on your feet or you will be stuck waiting forever. To show I hold no grudges, I slip the most helpful agent a tip after he helps load the van with our boxes.

My wife, not being from Manila, is slightly frazzled but I explain to her later that this type of thing is no big deal. In her laidback province of Cagayan De Oro, an event like that is considered more serious. The van driver apologizes and blames the traffic, but there really is no need, because I am in the city I love.

We take Roxas Boulevard to the Boulevard Mansion hotel, a combination of a condo and hotel, thus aptly named "condotel". Internet research has this as the nicest of the hotels in the vicinity of the US embassy.
There were a couple more, but reviews describe them as rent-by-the-hour type, which I definitely didn't want. Yuck!

"Want to sing Karaoke?" I ask my fiancee' as we pass the neon-lit bars on Roxas. The driver gives a knowing smile and I fill my gal in on the joke. These large bars with their flashing lights are specifically for male clients of the lighter persuasion.

We arrive at the Boulevard Mansion and the guard barely moves. I step out of the van, but before I can get annoyed we find out we are at the Grand Mansion or something hotel. Wrong place!

Two minutes later I am pleased when we arrive at the Boulevard Mansion, and before the van's wheels stop, three uniformed guards are opening our doors. My fiancee' asks if she should wait with our boxes, but I know these men can be trusted. A porter is called and everything is taken care of while we are at the front desk. I am relieved to see a printout of my online reservation from travelsmart.net. The cost is roughly $35 a night (50 pesos=$1) but you'd never guess that after seeing the marble floors, ample security, and spacious accomodations. The rooms have silverware, a full-size fridge, and stove. The linens and towels weren't the best, but for one night, they would do.

After checking the window locks I discovered one was broken, so I actually climbed out of the window to see if it was possible for someone to sneak in while we were away. There was a slim chance that someone could get through the barbed-wire and climb up the roof, so we requested a room change. In less than five minutes, the porter was back to bring us to our new room.

Even with all the traveling from New York City, I still had a hard time sleeping when I looked out the window and saw Manila Bay, the cars on Roxas Boulevard, and the neon-signs of places that should be closed at 2 am. I love the Philippines.

---