An Adventure in Bureaucracy

I was sitting around doing a little light reading when I noticed that my visa had expired a week ago. Not the money type visa, but type says I can stay here. Being Friday afternoon and Monday being election day, I had all weekend to research my future prospects. The interweb is full of stories of $80,000 fines and months in jail before permanent deportation.

The more realistic possibilities were $25 per day fine. I don't know if that sounded more realistic or if that was just the cheapest possibility. Anyway, Monday morning, I went down to the Bureau of Immigration.

Did you know that in the Philippines it is considered very unfashionable to put numbers on your house or business? They don't exist anywhere. It is also thought to be the apex of humor to put a right angle turn in the middle of a street and keep the same street name.

It took us over three hours to find this place. We where very unmanly and stopped to ask the traffic enforcers for directions many times. This process was not aided by my driver always asking for the American Embassy, which we had found many times, while I shouted "Bureau of Immigration" over and over from the back seat.

An hour after I had reached my maximum frustration level, compounded by 90 F heat in a small suv, we found it. I was almost ready to do my crazy American thing.

It this point there are a number of things that happened that I don't understand. The driver (drayber) grabbed me by the arm and marched me into the building like he was about to arraign me or something. He picked up a form from the front desk and I did my best to fill it out. Then he took if and my passport from me and presented it to the first available clerk. After a few seconds this clerk starts laughing uncontrollably. He passes it around to at least a dozen people, each of whom is overcome with mirth. I finally got Julius to let me in on the joke. It turns out that the immigration guy at the airport had stamped on my passport that I was a returning filipina.

This means 1) I am a native resident of the Philippines returning from travel and 2) I am a girl.

Because my passport and visa were now defective I was sent to the infamous floor 3 to get it fixed. After another round of merriment, the clerk said I could get a 21 day extension to give me time to fix it. When I asked what I should do to fix it. he shrugged. He explained that because of the error I would have to renew it every 21 days for up to a year.

At this point, I think things happened that were not official policy. Julius asked for an additional $50 and he and the clerk went into a back room. In a few minutes they came out and Julius handed me the Passport and proudly announced "good for one year now." I will leave the analysis of this transaction to the gentle reader.

Then ol' Julius takes me in that "perp walk" grip and hustles me out of the building and back to his car.

At least that mission has been accomplished and is no longer a worry.

Now, since we are in the area, it's time to look for the US VA Clinic. You remember how hard it was to find the Bureau of Immigration? Multiply that by 10 for the clinic.

I had the street address (lol) and a description of "about a kilometer south of the embassy." We went up and back several times before we finally located it. Literally another hour.

The clinic here is a little different. Filipinos seem to have an affinity for chrome pump shotguns.,
They let us in the guard shack and Julius was allowed to go with me. I went in to the main desk and they had me fill out a form and take it to Mercy in room 3. I thought a little mercy would be good about now.

After a wait another clerk started entering me into the computer not using any of the information on the form I had filled out. Lots and lots of questions about my address (why is there a number before your street name?).

It didn't help that Julius was helping with the answers.

After an hour or so I was all registered and my files electronically sent here and an appointment made for my initial visit.

So how was your day?

Visiting the ATM

ATM, oddly, is pronounced ay tee em. See, I already know a Tagalog word.

Any way you may have noticed that the 'doorman" is carrying a chrome shotgun.

He keeps the doors locked and questions each person as to what their business is inside before he unlocks the door.

At this point, I am not allowed off the condo complex. Apparently it is a "bad neighborhood " It is dangerous to walk on our little street because there are no traffic rules at all and your driving skills are based on your level of aggression. At least in the condo, we are behind a gate and armed guards. We are hoping to buy a used scooter in a couple of months so I can get around better.

Picture Pages

A Semi-Random Selection of Pictures


This is the seat-back display on the way to Korea. It was interesting to me that we went north the length of Vancouver and then down the Aleution Islands of Alaska, then down off the coast of China and the length of Taiwan. I think this is called the "Great Circle Route" and has to do with the fact the earth is a sphere and when it it is displayed as a flat circle it is distorted, making straight lines appear to be curved. That's why when the Russians shout missiles at us they go over the north pole.


Here is the entrance to Jollibees. Notice that the guard/doorman is packing heat. Virtually every business entrance has an armed guard. I don't know if this is because there is so much crime or if there is no crime because of the guards. Made ME feel safe.


This is the parking area of the condo complex.


This is a motorcycle/tricycle. These things are all over in the less urban areas. Most of the time the ride costs about a dollar or two. The guard shack in the back is the entrance to the condo complex, "Lakeview Manors." I have not seen the lake yet.


This is our front door


Another view of our front door, just past the blue umbrella. That's the street in the distance.


Here is the "sala" or living room.


A view of the balcony from the sala.




The Master's Bedroom


One must be very awake for those midnight calls.




The kitchen.











Bathroom

The magical hot water machine.





Serious AC in the bedroom




Here's the Public Market. I was here for several days before I found out our dinner was coming from here. I have had a little gastric distress but not enough to worry about.



These are Jeepneys waiting to pick up people from Market Market. I haven't been on one but I think they have regional routes they follow. I think you really have to know what you are doing to work these.


Here's more my speed. Taxis lined up a the same place.

Jupiter Suites in Makati

After I am alone all day, trapped in my room I sleep all night. In the early morning I am considering my options and strongly consider going home.

Then, in the morning, it occurs to me that I am not really helpless here. I make it out of my room and outside and across the road to the gas station to get some more Coke Light. Having survived my first foray out,I decide to forge ahead on getting things done.

Before I left Bremerton, I was trying to make arrangements for a condo in Ususan, Taguig, called Lakeview Manor. I had a terrible time because it was for rent by the owner and the property office would not give me the owner's number. I tried working through an agent, but she was not responsive and was trying to sell me way up. My friend thought that Lakeview Manor would be perfect and I thought she was right.

So I decided to go for it ahead. The doorman stopped 4 different taxis for me but they didn't want to go that far or didn't know where the place was. I was afraid they didn't want to go to that area because it was bad, but later, I saw a lot of taxis near the condo so I don't know what the problem was.

When that wasn't working, the desk called a driver for me. His name is Ferdie and he has been a great help.

While he was lost a little my friend happened to text to see where I was. She talked to Ferdie and everything was under control then. We stopped at a store and she and her mom and her mom's friend and two babies climbed in.

(Later I want to talk about virtual vs real friends. Here is this woman I have talked to on Yahoo Messenger but never seen in person. When I actually spot her for real, it just seems seamless, like "oh, hi, haven't talked to you since yesterday")

So we all travel the rest of the way to the condo and, for some reason, ate Yolie (Yolanda), the owner of the condo is waiting for us at the gate. I think ate means sister or aunt of no actual relationship.

She shows us the unit and all the girls agree that this is a good place. It costs about $375 per month. Sounds much more impressive to say PHP 15000. Tomorrow I promise pictures.

In Manila, many people don't have hot water in the house. Ace Hardware sells a tiny tank-less water heater that goes on the wall in the shower next to the shower pipe. All the houses are prewired for these heaters. The installers came last Thursday to install it, but the "circuit was not properly provisioned" meaning the GFCI breaker wasn't put in. The owner took care of that so maybe tomorrow we have hot water.

Cold showers in the Phils are not the same as in Washington. The water there comes out of the wall at about 45 deg., but here it is closer to 80. I think I could get used to that, but you cant beat a warm shower.

The heat is another issue I had some concerns about. It runs about 85 deg with very high humidity so it is a shock. I thought of a way around it though. The only thing bad about heat is that you lose the "Oh, so fresh" feeling. Once you make the choice to embrace the sweat and become one with it, it is no big deal.

On Sunday, we all reconnect and Ferdie takes us back to the condo to make the payment. I bring all my big suitcases and backpack.

Really, tomorrow there will be pictures.

Arriving in Manila

After about five more hours, we land in Manila. The descent was much more normal because I could see lights and skyscrapers. We got off the plane and kind of milled around until a guard or something pointed and we all start moving toward immigration and baggage claim..

I'm not sure what the immigration was all about. We had to turn in two pieces of paper that said what we were bringing in. I put down that I brought 15 Hershey Bars, but I guess that wasn't what they were looking for. I don't remember if the agent opened my passport or not.

This whole time I am obsessing on all the bad things people told me. I try to be aware of who is around me and keep my hand on my wallet, which was in my front pocket. I probably looked pretty stupid.

After that there was the luggage carousel. I grabbed my two bags and headed to the podium to get checked out or something. The guard seemed to want to know why I was bothering him.

When a Philippine citizen returns to the Philippines he is allowed to bring a box about 20 inches square with no limit and no inspection as to what can be in it. At least half of the luggage consisted of these "balikbayan" boxes.

After passing through the luggage area, there was another room with a taxi stand and what I found out to be hawkers for town cars. I had specifically warned to only use the Yellow Co. taxis and to make sure they used the meter. I was feeling pretty cocky by then and, besides, I had to walk through the hawkers to get the the ATM, since I had no pesos so, of course one of them approaches that knows exactly where my hotel is. He seemed surprised that I didn't want to go have a few drinks and maybe find a companion for the evening.

I stood down a side street with the hawker while we waited for the car to show up. We agreed to about $12 for the ride. About ten minutes later I arrived at the Jupiter Hotel right at midnight.

The Philippines Saga Begins Here

Alright, enough time has passed without any writing going on. Things are pretty settled now. I have a stable (0.1 Mb/s) WiMax signal going so this may take some time. Maybe the best place to start is at the beginning.

The flight from Seattle to Incheon, Korea

Getting on board was uneventful. At least after Tab and Elise and I all stopped crying by the car. All the airplane stuff was straightforward. I got to ride the underground train to the international terminal.

While waiting there, I found myself in a group of three other men with similar plans to mine, traveling to meet their young ladies. I think I got so I could spot us: older, chubby men, with a kinda desperate look on their faces. We had a great time there waiting for the plane. It was one of those conversations where each of us knew information which the others disbelieved so nobody pushed it much.

There was also an older missionary couple. Something about raising pigs, I think.

After a couple of hours it was time to board. This was my first time on a 777, which has three seats down each side and 4 in the middle. I had pre-arranged for window seat so I felt pretty lucky,

Then there was a little ray of sunshine that changed everything.

After I found out who my seat mates were the trip took a different tone that I had planned. I never could find out her name, but did you know that you can get every single Dora episode for your iPad, and even after 11 hours there are still more to go? Not to mention all the Dora counting games and sing alongs?

She decided that we were bffs, and that was ok.

I was not able to sleep at all even with my special airplane pillow from WalMart. Just the way the windows were indented in the wall and the shape of the seat made it impossible. Especially with two little legs in my lap some of the time.

A strange thing: Soon after we took off, the staff served lunch which is ok, but right after that they made us all close the window shades at about 4 in the afternoon. They only thing I could think of was maybe to precondition us for the time zone change. Definitely a little surreal. Not much to see out the window anyway.

On the subject of surreal, the stewardesses fit the definition for that. They were all painfully asian but were also 5 10 or taller in closely tailored seafoam business suits. Maybe I was just still having culture shock or something because I have never seen women move like that. I think they must have had that kind of training where you keep a book on your head while you do stuff,

So some time after I become as one with my buttock pain, we descend into Incheon (Seoul, South Korea). Incheon is an island on the west coast of South Korea. (You may remember the tv show M.A.S.H.? same war) As we approached we flew over some of the mainland and salt swamp and little islands. Maybe it is my anti-communist bias, but everything there sure seemed gray and dismal. No color anywhere. (OK, its not communist now.)

After further tortuous delays we deplaned into the terminal. This place was HUGE. I think they ordered the carpet by the hectare. Just massive like I have never seen. At six in the evening there may have been 100 people walking alone close to the wall avoiding the open spaces. I see Central Planning at work here.

So we go through security again. Drag out the ol' netbook again. Finished with that so I head out down to the gate for the next flight. Of course I realize that the I am tired of walking and that the numbers are going the wrong direction.

Eventually make it to the right gate. You would not believe the expensive jewelry that was for sale.

"No ma'am, I dont care to try on a $12,000 Rolex. What exactly is the point of that. Yes I am sure that is an excellent price, but it is just too bulky for me."

At the gate waiting area I made an attempt to send a message back to the real world. My net sniffer shows 5 open networks, but can I connect to any of them? I tried for the half hour or so I had with no luck.

So finally I get on the plane. Airbuss 300, I think. There were many empty seats so I wind up with a little more free room.