Manila

Upon arrival in Manila and exiting an international airport that seems too small for a city of 12 million, the taxi driver comfortably informed me everything would still be open on Christmas day. He was wrong of course, as the Philippines is a catholic country, however the homeless and beggars were still on the streets. Not a great Christmas for them, though at least they are warm. I wonder if their existence begging in Manila is really better than at home in the countryside so they stay, in hope of something better from the capital -along with thousands of others on the streets and hundreds of thousands in slum-like dwellings.

Me and dad went to see the crazy Chinese cemetery where rich Chinese were buried in tombs that were the size of actual houses; some had two storeys, others air conditioning for when mourners came. The remarkable tombs that are elaborate and expensive (and built there because the Chinese were not allowed to be buried in cemeteries with Filipinos) are even more remarkable as they are sited alongside a river; the other side of which was an entire town made of corrugated iron. Oh the juxtaposition and irony.

Those inhabitants' living conditions were incalculably worse than their deceased neighbors, yet as with Filipinos across the country, many in poverty, they were all smiles. Indeed, they never came to us to beg, like those in the tourist area. Almost as surprising was the stubbornness of one of the cemetery's security guards (who dubs as a tour guide) who was not willing to negotiate down from his asking price of 7 USD to give us a one hour tour around the cemetery.

Earlier on Christmas Day we'd seen the opulent Manila Hotel, charming old town of Intramuros (developed under the Spanish hundreds of years ago) including a well-restored fort, and the new developments by the harbor.

Evenings in Manila's bars and restaurants are marked by prostitutes making up 2/3rds (literally) of the clientele (they keep clients buying drinks which keeps bars happy) and beggars outside, necessitating security guards at entrances.

The next day we ventured to a local town by a lake, which was marked out by their transport. Sited along disused train tracks, the kids kept themselves busy ferrying residents to-and-fro using home-made carts that seemed remarkably fast and well designed on the train tracks. We wondered into an almost finished fancy apartment complex nearby and used the swimming pool before returning to Manila.

There is a business district (bigger than i expected when i visited on my way back through Manila to China) and some nice areas, but Manila is not a pretty city; the few nice old buildings that survived World War 2 are lying abandoned in most cases. It's a city of too many people and not enough housing or jobs. A shame really; the people are nice and although it's mainly the middle classes in the lovely Rizal Park relaxing, playing and buying food and kites from the poor street-sellers, the area to one side where I watched 30 or so people playing chess, provided an opportunity to talk to locals and see how class barriers can be bridged, and how a simple game of chess can provide joy and smiles to all -for free.

None-the-less it is wise to lock taxi doors as beggars occasionally try to open them at traffic lights whilst children, knowing no better or no other life, knock on the windows looking sad before giggling and turning back to their friends to play.