I am no stranger to poverty, coming from a place where it is breathed in the air and served daily. Slums and cramped spaces; poor wages; dirty and chaotic city streets; local farmers, fishermen, and laborers toiling to feed their families at least once a day; diaspora of people to other countries; and poor, if not lack of access to health care and education. These are but some of the palpable realities faced by many back home. As such, I often need to reconcile what I see here in Kyrgyzstan countryside with their own realities. The greeneries, spacious white-washed houses, orderly villages, well-dressed residents, and sprawling jailoos are somehow tricking my mind into believing that people here live very easily. However, behind the beautiful façade are communities and people who are also very much struggling to ... read more

"Life here is difficult," said the young, good-looking driver. "Not many jobs here. Many go to other places." "Well, the situation is similar in the Philippines. People also go to other countries for better opportunities," I replied, as we cruised down the picturesque tree-lined road from the airport to my couchsurfing host's house. Made it at last to Kyrgyzstan. If there is one word that can describe the country, it is GREEN. Trees, steppes, rolling hills, and pasturelands are in all directions -- laced by very tall snow-capped mountain ranges at par with the Himalayas. The verdant landscape is just occasionally broken by white to beige houses. All worries brought by not planning disappeared as soon as I stepped into the country. "Are you Russian or Kyrgyz?" "Do I look Russian? They look so yellow to ... read more

If jumping off the edge is your answer, you're wrong. Big time. Answer? Being sweaty on a treeless mountain summit (and using a mobile phone) in the middle of a brewing rain and peppered with lightning and thunder. We were on the summit of Mt. Pico de Loro waiting for the rest of our climb mates to get back from scaling the rocky, vertical mountain's "beak". There was not much to see and do as thick fog and grey clouds hid almost everything. Yla was ruminating by herself. My cousin Hazel and I were taking pictures at a lower area. And Estela was speaking with someone on her mobile phone. On top of the mountain. Really. "What was that?!" shrieked Estela. Estela and Yla all suddenly freaked out. Static electricity jolted them. Thunder filled the air. ... read more

Do you have chocolates?" "Where are you from?" It must have been a non-school day as many kids greeted me along the "trail" while trekking Sarangkot's hillside. Pressed for time due to delays caused by the bandh or strike on my way to Pokhara, I opted to just take a day trek after watching the sun kiss Annapurna. The trail is actually the road that cuts through about five villages. Quaint houses made of mud and bricks, corn fields, milk cans, goats and occasional water buffaloes dot the path. Overlooking Pokhara and Fewa Lake with clear view of the Himalayas, the villages lie at an altitude of 1,592 meters above sea level. The villagers are economically and socially underprivileged, with 90% living below poverty line (Quality of Life Nepal, 2009). Among the things I learned from ... read more

And so the misadventures that had started at the ForEx in Manila's airport a week prior trailed me. Nothing new. Banks wouldn't exchange my peso and I could not get cash from my credit card as it was maxed out already. Just great -- in a foreign country without local currency, and with only non-convertible money and a useless plastic card. No money to buy food or my plane ticket to go back home. Anxiety settled in and made herself really comfortable. I was living on credit from Yla. But then, she would be going home on the 23rd (Sunday), which would leave me without any means of communication (Sun Cellular had no service in Nepal!) or money to continue my journey to Pokhara. Email was not an option. With proliferation of scam emails of people ... read more