City Adventures

Who knew it could be so hard to leave the mountains.  I don’t mean emotionally, but physically. Turns out, the only buses to leave Banaue for Manila leave at night. So you have to be prepared to ride a bus all night long, trusting the driver to stay alert on mountain curves, just to arrive in Manila before the sun even gets up.

With no other options, we settled onto the bus with a rather large contingent of Europeans. The rice terraces are famous, after all.  It was too dark to see out, probably a good thing at the beginning. But Philippine roads being what they are, it was almost impossible to sleep on the bus. Accelerations and heavy braking was the norm, as the bus negotiated first the curves in the mountains and then the traffic on the highways. Once in Manila, we had to transfer to another bus terminal to catch a ride south for another two hours. In total, we traveled for 13 hours to reach our new destination, 450 kms away.

We are located in a city this time, in a hotel that feels a lot like home. With a clean bathroom with toilet seats and toilet paper (things I used to take for granted), wall-to-wall carpeting, a microwave and a flat screen TV.  Oh, wait. That’s better than what I have at home. It does get hard to remember that we are in another part of the world, at least until we step out the door. Then the noise and fumes, the tricycles and jeepneys, the road side shacks, all combine to remind us.

Now that we are no longer in the farming communities of the north, there are more beggars confronting us. We had two little girls knocking on the window of our restaurant one morning, trying to convince us that they were hungry and needed money for food. It would have been a good ploy, if it wasn’t for the long earrings and gold rings the one girl was wearing. When I pointed them out to her, she covered them up with her brand name sweater, and continued to hold out her hand. The downside of city life, I guess.

For all that this is a big city, there really isn’t a whole lot to see or do here. We’ve walked to the market and around downtown. There is a museum here, but it was very difficult to find it or the tourist information place.  Originally we went to the City Hall, and asked a security guard, who looked blankly at us when we asked where the tourist information was. So we asked about the museum, and he directed us down a major street. We didn’t find the museum. A google search showed it by the capitol buildings, outside of the downtown area. A trip to the capitol buildings involved a jeepney, only because we weren’t exactly sure how to get there. Once on foot, we were told that the building we wanted was “over there” several times, by different people.  We did finally find a tourist information office. For the province, not the city, we were told when we got inside. The city information office was in the town hall.  Huh? We were there once, already. But using our google map on our phone (bless the smartphones!) we realized we were within walking distance and so wandered back to downtown. Back at City Hall, we asked another security officer – the ones to greet you at the door, armed and ready – for the tourist information office. “Why?” he asked. Not wanting to explain the obvious – we are tourists – we just said it was on the second floor, information that the provincial office actually had. He allowed us in. Success! The next treasure on our list was the museum. We got specific information, and headed off to an alley not even a block away. We found the Post Office, which was well signed, and an unmarked glass door into a darkened room. It was the only other choice along the alley. Someone was coming out of the door so we asked if this was the museum. The answer was positive and we entered. A lady on the phone looked at us and said, “What do you want here?” I answered that I wanted to visit the museum, although inside I was really starting to doubt the truth of that. She nodded and went back to her conversation on the phone. Younger staff directed us to take a seat and turned the lights back on. After a few minutes, the staff told us that they were closed for the lunch hour. Oh! There were no hours posted, so we had no idea. We apologized, like good Canadians, and left. The lady in charge was still on the phone. We never did go back.

 

We did take a trip to the beach. This was an hour away by jeepney, which makes it feel longer. There is no maximum seat limit on a jeepney. I’ve seen the front bench seat fit four, but because the old jeeps have a stick shift on the floor the driver had to be in the middle with one lucky passenger beside him against the door. The two benches along the back officially fit 12 on each side, but anyone else that can be squeezed in will be. And then once the benches are full, there is a two-by-four that can be laid across the back entrance for two more people to sit on. Anyone else that wants a ride after that has to hang off the back or climb on to the roof to sit. We made it back to the city, but accidentally got dropped off at the wrong corner. We refused to get on another jeepney, and instead walked the 2 km home. It felt good to stretch our legs.

Fiesta Day came during the week we were staying. Banks and schools were closed, vendors came in from outlying communities, and the population downtown tripled. Thankfully, the police closed the roads for the morning parade, something not every city does. It was a nice break to get away from the traffic and diesel fumes, and just deal with the crowds. The whole city had a party feel to it. There were hawkers with balloons, toys, and baby chicks for sale. To make the chicks attractive to children, they were painted bright colours. 

There was a parade with bands and majorettes and floats for the mayor, a nursery school, and the beauty pageant winners. These floats are wooden platforms built to fit neatly over a small, sturdy old jeep. On top of the platform would be chairs for the participants, on various levels, and usually a wall or roof for decoration. I don’t think they calculated the total heights once everything is fitted onto the car. There are wires that crisscross the streets in splendid chaos, and many of them are sagging. In order to navigate these streets, most floats had at least one fellow standing with a stick to manipulate the wires overhead. Entertainment was everywhere.

We are heading off to a new destination, now. It will involve a tricycle, a bus, and then a plane. If we’re lucky, there will not be a tricycle at the other end, but I’m not holding my breath.

Our life is truly an adventure.

W