"I'll take the Thai road you take the low road"-Phillip Buckman

Bangkok: land of peaceful dogs, amazing pad thai and cars that drive on the wrong side of the road. You never know how much you are programmed to look a certain way when crossing the street until you get hit in the arm by a car mirror cause the cars are going the opposite way. But thankfully you learn fast.

The Real Borat

So caving is kind of terrifying, right? I don't mean like Lavatubes caving (by the way why the fuck do the Flag Lavatubes have a facebook account), but like holy shit this is a real cave with stalagtites and bats that will eat your face and an underground river.

I sign up for a tour yesterday of the caves with a little Jessie thought bubble coming up which might have said something like this "Oh, cool. Walk down into a cave with a guide. I haven't spoken more than 50 words in the last two days so I might as well have some human interaction." Old-school timidness showing through. Anyways, I show up this morning in good spirits learning that it won't be a private guide but instead I am going to be accompanied by a large Hungarian man with a bald head and a mouth that would have him thrown out of any public area in the Western world. We make our way down to the cave (15min walk from town) and then into the cave where we promptly have to squeeze through incredibly tight spaces. Not a problem for me, a real problem for our friend the self pronounced "Hungry Hungarian." The guide and I snicker as he frequently exclaims "fucking bastards" with as much gusto as he can muster while being wedged between two rocks. Then the exciting part commences. We must lower our selves down into the cave using a plastic rope that has a few knots in it. The guide, who must weigh no more than 120 pounds has to basically carry the 220 pound Hungarian down. It was fabulous. After arriving at the bottom we find a sweet swimming hole and another Jessie thought bubble pops up: "Fuck yes!". As I strip down to my swimming suit I am harrassed, no tormented, by this Eastern European man-child who offers me 20 pesos for the "show". That continued till exiting the cave.

Borat(clearly not his real name, but this is literally what the Filipino guide began referring to him as by the end) although macho as anyone could be ended up being pretty entertaining company. We ended up hiking to a pottery studio after the cave adventure and talking to the lady who ran the place for an hour. Good day all in all. Tomorrow I hike to Bontoc and then to Banaue. The next day: back to Manila and then to BANGKOK!!!!

Dear Kevin,

Since you left many things have happened. Here is my tentative report regarding the Philippines, specifically the Mountain Province:

I have found your Jeepney in Baguio City, just in case you were wondering where it had wondered off to. It is multicolored and reads "MC KEVIN 2". I hope that it gives your heart ease that I have located this cultural artifact.

Pig feed smells reeeeeeaaaallly bad. During my six hour journey from Baguio City to Sagada, where I am currently stationed, the bus passed a town whose main industry was manufacturing and distributing pig feed. Consequently trucks filled with pig feed abound sending the pungent scent of ground up fish and decaying vegetables right up my nostrils.

In Baguio City I learned about the inner workings of the Barangay. The woman that I stayed with had some issue regarding a St. Bernard puppy (already weird) and had to take it up with the president. I sat in on the meeting and they made me sign as a witness to a contractual agreement that they drew up. They also thought I was the woman's daughter, so apparently I CAN pass for Filipina.

There is a chip brand called "Chippy".

Where's my chippy?
There's my chippy.
Tomorrow I will investigate the hanging coffins and caves around Sagada.

Regards,
Jessie

Because this was the highlight of our trip.

Rap! Tumble! and Roll! Shameless di ba?

Barcadas and Barricudas: a new batch

The Taal volcano is the worlds smallest and deadliest. You can get there by hiring a man in Manila at six dollars an hour.

We devolved from shying away from beaches to not even making it to the shore of a lake. Maybe I am scared of the deadly fish, or the multitudinous snakes that the volcano guides fabricate because they are too lazy to hike. The overabundance of service makes everyone we run into think that we need something. The men offering their services at the Tagaytay rotunda were alarmingly aggressive, literally running alongside our moving car with signs promising Boat Ride or Place 2 Stay.

Other than failing at being real tourists we've been hanging out with family a lot. House parties in the Philippines equal a feast, plenty of beer and most importantly a karaoke machine. I am pretty sure that it is a rarity not to have one in your household. In other karaoke news, we stumbled upon a videoke shack near the house in Manila. It is the place to go to see large rodents swoon to the sound of Celine Dion or Kevin singing "Every Breath You Take".

We finally made it to a disco as well after altogether failing at staying awake past midnight on New Year's Eve. The disco we went to was designed to look like a boat dock and the interior was smokey and crowded. There was a throw down that ended our fun around 3 am. Beer bottles were wielded but not thrown, but it was enough for the house lights to come up and the same beat to be repeated for the remainder of our stay.

Beer, light beer, strong beer: the three levels of beer experience.

We also crossed off the last item on our list of authentic Filipino food by stopping by a Jollibee. It is an institution here and a case study in how local competitors can outcompete American corporate behemoths, but I don't think the academics can begin to explain how the Ube Cheesey Magic was concocted.



Even those brave enough for discount cheese desserts were not ready to try the Tuna Pie on the Fish Delights menu.

It's Balut!

It's a half developed baby duck fetus in the egg. Juicy and delicious, just don't think about what your eating.

Pigs, Pigs in bags, Pigs in bags in boxes: the Philippines, where pigs are packaged like Cereal. feat. DJ K-Chicken, Deep Fried Melodiiiiies.

You are a dancing queen, every day and every night, especially when squished coastwise into a hot jeepney with ABBA pumped at full volume.

The side trip was filled with decisions. We decided that Filipinos have great taste in music (i.e. autotune and 80s hits). We decided that the bashful dogs here are more like forest pigs. We decided that a winter lived properly should make you buff and tan.

We stayed in paradise on a river that brought to mind images from the Vietnam war. Can't argue with swimming against the current to a waterfall and being gawked at by boat cruise tourists. Our hosts were two Belgians, not waffles, who run a small travelers retreat near Loboc. They were adorable and a bit unsure of what to do with their guest house's success, and the obnoxious oblivious travelers that come with it.

The tarsier is a small primate that looks like a rodent. It has, however, the hands of a man. A small midget man with traces of Yoda blood. We made it to the best sanctuary on Bohol, but Kevin decided that he should accidentally leave his flash on and scare the adorable nocturnal buggers. The keeper was upset, but in his own reticent way. "If you give us your change you can make the Tarsier live longer.... Forever...."

Chococomplex has the propensity to make Japanese people sick. This is a completely unexplained phenomenon. Like the hills themselves. Mystery lurks in the nougety goodness. The Chocolate Hills are green, if you were wondering.

Happy New Years!