I hadn't been to the Philippines in years, and anxious that Rich should enjoy his first visit, I filled his ears with warnings and forebodings. Other than the ever horrendous Manila traffic, it was a pleasant surprise to discover that most of these dire predictions didn't come true. The shakedowns of petty corruption didn't occur, or at least, not so overtly as I recalled in the past. Most food was served actually hot in restaurants, not merely lukewarm (a pet peeve of Rich's). Squatters, beggars, and all manner of folks living in abject poverty, which before, down every alley and along every railway line, seemed as rampant as in some parts of India, were a far less common sight. Doubtless, we were staying at times in more affluent areas, but perhaps, some of the recent economic gains the country had made that my uncle described had improved their situations as well?
Rich found the the travelling around the Philippines pretty comfortable and relatively easy. The roads were in good condition, transport was easy to hail or organize, and communicating with people was simple. One difficulty, he cited, was in getting commitment out of folks. Since there is a strong cultural reluctance for telling someone, "No," he found the indirect methods - e.g., saying "Yes" to your face, but making you feel uncomfortable for your request and making it feel like a giant inconvenience - a bit annoying. He disliked the over-the-top Las Vegas-style flash, tackiness, and cheesy schtick of a few of the local tourist hotspots. But he loved that going a tiny bit of out of the way from them would land you in pristine, beautiful surroundings.
I was happy to get some of my favorite treats: warm pandesal buns with butter in the morning from the corner store; gorging on ripe Philippine mangoes, hands down the best in the world; and fresh ensaymada (brioche-like bread sprinkled with cheese and sugar on top). One of the highlights of staying at Apulit Island was the daily halo-halo bar. This concoction of candied tropical fruits (jackfruit, young coconut, sweet potato, plantain, etc.), sweet beans, and corn mixed into shaved ice with a shot of evaporated milk, topped with leche flan (Pinoy version of a rich egg custard) and purple yam ice cream, is heavenly and perfect for those hot and humid days. One slight disappointment was our limited seafood. There was one day where we picked out all the shellfish and fish we could wish at the market, but the restaurant we chose to cook them for us ignored our request. Instead of simple preparations (just grilled or steamed, maybe lemon or garlic), the cooks hammered most of it, suffocating them with cheeses, bacon, and overpowering sauce. Culinary crimes! We had better luck elsewhere with traditional dried fish (daeng) and requesting whole fried sweet-and-sour fish.
My palate has come a long way since our last visit so I tried to embrace the bizarre foods of Philippine culture. Woodworm went down. But we had to gird our loins for that most famous of Philippine delicacies. Balut is a half-hatched duck egg. Sold everywhere on street corners, my mom admitted to having a 2 baluts and a Coca-Cola daily habit as a kid. My dad picked up our specimens at the 7/11. The egg looks normal on the outside. I took one bite of the beige egg white inside, and it was oddly tough and chewy. Rich took a slurp of the grayish liquid and recalls it as "probably not disgusting." But we balked when we hit the fetus - and it is recognizably so. With tiny wings and a tiny beak. Defeated, I take great comfort that our other taste tester - Chinese and proudly proclaiming, "We eat everything!" - also didn't finish. My dad said it was a waste of perfectly good food and laughed at all of our turned up noses.
Rich found the the travelling around the Philippines pretty comfortable and relatively easy. The roads were in good condition, transport was easy to hail or organize, and communicating with people was simple. One difficulty, he cited, was in getting commitment out of folks. Since there is a strong cultural reluctance for telling someone, "No," he found the indirect methods - e.g., saying "Yes" to your face, but making you feel uncomfortable for your request and making it feel like a giant inconvenience - a bit annoying. He disliked the over-the-top Las Vegas-style flash, tackiness, and cheesy schtick of a few of the local tourist hotspots. But he loved that going a tiny bit of out of the way from them would land you in pristine, beautiful surroundings.
I was happy to get some of my favorite treats: warm pandesal buns with butter in the morning from the corner store; gorging on ripe Philippine mangoes, hands down the best in the world; and fresh ensaymada (brioche-like bread sprinkled with cheese and sugar on top). One of the highlights of staying at Apulit Island was the daily halo-halo bar. This concoction of candied tropical fruits (jackfruit, young coconut, sweet potato, plantain, etc.), sweet beans, and corn mixed into shaved ice with a shot of evaporated milk, topped with leche flan (Pinoy version of a rich egg custard) and purple yam ice cream, is heavenly and perfect for those hot and humid days. One slight disappointment was our limited seafood. There was one day where we picked out all the shellfish and fish we could wish at the market, but the restaurant we chose to cook them for us ignored our request. Instead of simple preparations (just grilled or steamed, maybe lemon or garlic), the cooks hammered most of it, suffocating them with cheeses, bacon, and overpowering sauce. Culinary crimes! We had better luck elsewhere with traditional dried fish (daeng) and requesting whole fried sweet-and-sour fish.
My palate has come a long way since our last visit so I tried to embrace the bizarre foods of Philippine culture. Woodworm went down. But we had to gird our loins for that most famous of Philippine delicacies. Balut is a half-hatched duck egg. Sold everywhere on street corners, my mom admitted to having a 2 baluts and a Coca-Cola daily habit as a kid. My dad picked up our specimens at the 7/11. The egg looks normal on the outside. I took one bite of the beige egg white inside, and it was oddly tough and chewy. Rich took a slurp of the grayish liquid and recalls it as "probably not disgusting." But we balked when we hit the fetus - and it is recognizably so. With tiny wings and a tiny beak. Defeated, I take great comfort that our other taste tester - Chinese and proudly proclaiming, "We eat everything!" - also didn't finish. My dad said it was a waste of perfectly good food and laughed at all of our turned up noses.
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