03/28/11 Posting

03.25.2011 Ramble
Sitting here in Pasig City with two fans going, an occasional stiff breeze blowing through Russ’ apartment, thinking about being cool again-someday. The exertion of thought makes me perspire. I hear Nick’s ubiquitous comment, “Be careful what you wish for.” Then I look out the window at the fruit-laden mango, marcopa and kaimito trees and remember that I am escaping winter. The trees are common property here in Kaimito (Star-Apple) Village, and fruit are there for the taking. You can wait for a breeze to bring them down, or as most residents do; use a bamboo pole with a bag on the end.
Today was trash day in the village. A security guard walks through the grounds blowing his whistle in a sort of “Tweeeeeet-tweet-tweet-tweet” pattern, and the residents carry out their bags to the collection truck. Yesterday, Is and Zarah carried the trash out only to be told that collection (every other day) had been the day before. They were victims of malicious Mynah birds-those that mimic cell phone ring tones, and one resident clown that repeats a car alarm all day.
Noise! That seems to be the most prevalent impression I have of Metro-Manila, more so than the contrast between have and have-nots. I can’t remember a moment of silence since we arrived. The C-5, a major thoroughfare, is a block away. During the day there is the constant whine, rumble and roar of traffic, truckless traffic, I would add. In a futile attempt to minimize congestion, commercial trucks are only allowed on the road at night. So, nights are filled with the sometimes muffler-less din of all sizes of trucks mixed in with the tenor whines of motorbikes, the frequent howl of emergency vehicles and the occasional roar of hot rods; all immune from any sort of noise-restricting laws.
Here in the complex, we have the barking/yelping of a couple of caged puppies who start in early morning when the owner goes to work and continue (without a siesta) until he returns mid-evening. School is out and children do children things; none of which are quiet. (03/28/11 addition: This morning we awoke at cock’s crow-literally. Russell’s next-door neighbor has acquired a fighting cock and, quite preposterously, tethered it to Russ’ gate-right under our bathroom window. Mind you, this is on the third floor of a condominium complex in the heart of Pasig. Oooops, for a moment I forgot where I was.) Anyway, this critter crows hourly at least and also leaves fumets in the hallway which makes a good megaphone; being made out of concrete.)
When we go to the local supermarket/shopping center, the cacophony continues. Everywhere one turns is a stall with people hawking condos, subdivision lots or high-rise apartments. The Food Court houses about ten vendors, from each of which emanates the plea of every one of the seemingly-dozens of staff; flogging their product. The peanut vendor rings a shrill Starvation Army-type bell; the amusement arcade deafens you with the amplified dings, squeaks, twangs and boings of various coin-eaters, a couple of large screen TVs blare insufferable adverts and over it all is a recent “hit” by some disgusting, twangy, white, teenybopper “star” whining about her hair not being cool.
And then the restaurant complex, which is a cluster of about thirty eateries with a common dining area under a large (2 acre+) open air tent, is the same story. The culinary offerings are delicious; coming from all over the Philippines, Asia and the rest of the world…but…then there’s the music-and I use that term loosely. Over the whole panorama of conversation, shouted food orders, delicacy-hawking and wall-less restaurant noise, is a super-amplified p.a. system blaring rap, crap, michael jackson or the rival to the afore-mentioned “oh-waow!”-howling like-california-type female(?). Naturally, all conversation is cranked up a few decibels to compete. What could have been a pleasant meal turns into a gobble-and-get-the-hell-outta-here session at the feed trough.
Black Forest, I’m coming…