I got new glasses (and contacts) as I always do every two years. It was cheaper to get them here than in Seattle, but the prices still made a dent in my wallet (we only get P3,000 for dental and optical allowance combined). Regardless, I love my new glasses, though they don’t look too different from my old ones.
The sales woman tried to get me to buy the thick framed ones (yung uso ngayon), but I dismissed the idea eventhough I thought I should go for a new look. Hindi ko talaga carry e plus mukha akong trying hard. Let’s stick with sexy and simple than uso and trying hard. ;P
Friday, March 2, 2007
Thursday, March 1, 2007
No Go For The Land Down Under
My hopes of going to Australia and New Zealand during Holy Week (and before I set off for my Asia Travel) have been dashed. *SNIFF.
Why, oh why, don't my family and I share the same interests? Tsk.
I'm also starting to think that there should be a "Travel Buddy" business in this world to help the lone travelers like me.
Why, oh why, don't my family and I share the same interests? Tsk.
I'm also starting to think that there should be a "Travel Buddy" business in this world to help the lone travelers like me.
Saturday, February 24, 2007
The Travel Asia Dream
(This is a long post.)
I've been thinking about the next couple of months lately and I'm pretty much sure where I want to be by May 2007. Now, as always, it's not about the "destination," but the "journey." Hence, my dilemma.
I'm not trying to be like him. No, no, no. He's the poster child; I'm just the child. I'm not interested in the world; I just want to visit 1/7th of it (for now). Namely, Jakarta, Bali, Singapore (I need to eat my chicken rice!), Kuala Lumpur, Ho Chi Minh, Siem Riep, Macau, Taipei, Seoul, and Tokyo. Come on, 9 itsy bitsy countries altogether. I even left out China so that it will be manageable so why is there a reason to chicken out? Let me list a few imaginary handicaps of mine:
I am not rich.
Whereas Kuya Erik (feeling close) came from the dotcom boom background, I come from a government background where rewards were in the form of pension plans for the end of one's life (which I'm not even eligible since I didn't work that long for each government). In other words, I don't have money growing on trees. And with my recent stint with a non-profit organization? Let's not even go there. Plain and simple, I'm on a limited budget, which leads us to my next handicap...
I am (gasp!) maarte.
Hey, I can sleep on the floor; I don't have a problem with that. I can sleep without a pillow. I can sleep with just an electric fan, BUT (notice the caps!) I need a clean bathroom. In other words, no shared bathrooms with strangers. And if that were the case, then no hostels for me. If I don't stay in hostels, I would be paying more for my accommodations, which poses a problem because of the first imaginary handicap. (What kind of a backpacker are you if you're not staying at a hostel?!) Which again leads us to my next handicap...
My stuff doesn't fit in a backpack.
Just ask my co-workers and they will definitely agree that I don't travel light. It is not exactly what I bring, but the amount of things that I bring. I don't care if my shoes match my bag. I don't care if I wear the same pants for a week. I definitely can just live off of shorts, rubber shoes, and t-shirts for weeks on end, BUT (there's that BUT again) I make sure that there are extra shirts, shorts, and what-have-yous "just in case."
Plus, the bulk of the weight of my luggage is really from toiletries: shampoo, conditioner, lotion (with sunscreen!), face moisturizer with sunscreen (oh the amount of sunspots that has surfaced on my face since coming to Manila!), contact lens solution, deodorant, toothpaste, Off! lotion...they all add up, man!
BUT, a positive BUT mind you, with my recent trip to Malapascua wherein we got caught up in a rainstorm in the middle of the sea and all my stuff got drenched, I have realized that it doesn't matter if I have brought all the clothes in the world, they're all going to get wet if they're all going to get wet. They're all going to get dirty if they're all destined to get dirty. So I could possibly survive with 4 sets of clothes for like a month-long journey (washing one set every night)...but still with the same amount of toiletries, okay?
I'm "accent-retarded."
If I'm not accustomed to hearing you speak in English (with an accent), I have problems understanding you. Remember that pedicab driver in Tacloban who asked me, "What's your name?" I asked him three times to repeat what he said and I still didn't get it. I only got it after I got back into my room. In college, I spent two weeks in my Statistics class thinking that "arfa" was a stats term, thanks to my Chinese professor (after doing my reading, I found out that I should use "alpha" in my test answers if I wanted an A).
BUT then again, I worked with so many Asian people in college and I always understood them. I even understand Kim Rae Won when he speaks English in his TV serials so heck, I will survive as long as I keep my patience. I'm patient, right? Okay, let's not answer that.
I'm pretty.
Calm down, calm down. Hear me out. I'm not saying that I'm pretty. I'm saying that other people think I'm pretty and for some reason, this poses a handicap.
When I first tried to move out of the San Mateo house and live on my own, my titas did point out to me that it wouldn't be safe for me frolicking around town at night because "I'm pretty." When I told Tita Rosalyn and Tita Marilyn that I would be going to Malapascua alone, they also objected because "I'm pretty." Kuya Gerson once told me that I should dress differently so that I don't look rich. Now since when did being attractive become a handicap?
Well, I sort of understand them now that I've lived here in Manila for one and a half years. I hate getting stared at while crossing Shaw Blvd. I hate how security guards say "Hi Ma'am" when I pass by when it's cars that they should be looking out for and not me. I hate it when passersby say "Hi Miss Beautiful" when I'm waiting for an FX or taxi on the side of the road. And if those instances don't make me want to go "My Sassy Girl" on these people, it makes me madder to know that I can very well be pretty, and yet I still remain single. What the heck is wrong with this world?!
I'm paranoid.
Thanks to my lovely friends and relatives (and loving mother) who have always emphasized to me that "the world is not safe," I pretty much have that mentality. It also doesn't help that my Lonely Planet book says that theft and violent crimes are frequent in Jakarta. I have visions of my passport and wallet being stolen and I get stuck in Jakarta for the rest of my life because I don't have enough money to get to the embassy or airport. HeHe.
I don't have friends, or friends of friends of friends, or distant relatives in these far-flung places
Except for Tokyo (yes, Rick and Roy, I'm already volunteering both of you for the job), I would be my own tour guide in these other countries. All help will come from strangers who I meet along the way and who look harmless from the outside...of course, hoping that all of them know how to speak English. It would be so crappy if the only English-speaking person in each country is the scary-looking guy at the corner. Say it ain't so!
Okay, so that was really just a long, drawn-out post to let you know that...I'm scared. HeHe. I don't think I can face the mirror again if I end up back in Seattle without having done what I had set out to do. Though I have made a serious dent on my "Wow Philippines" agenda so that's a pat on the back as far as I'm concerned (I even went and met the Secretary of Tourism. Come on, major bonus points for that!). Plus, I have a few "I almost died" stories to recount, so I do have something to tell my future grandchildren with what I've done so far.
Anyway, the next time you see me online, kindly send your "Aja! Fighting!"s, "Kaya mo yan"s, and "You go, girl!"s my way please. I need them badly...or you can just send me the list of people you know in those cities who would absolutely LOVE to show me around. That should make me smile instantly. ;P
I've been thinking about the next couple of months lately and I'm pretty much sure where I want to be by May 2007. Now, as always, it's not about the "destination," but the "journey." Hence, my dilemma.
I'm not trying to be like him. No, no, no. He's the poster child; I'm just the child. I'm not interested in the world; I just want to visit 1/7th of it (for now). Namely, Jakarta, Bali, Singapore (I need to eat my chicken rice!), Kuala Lumpur, Ho Chi Minh, Siem Riep, Macau, Taipei, Seoul, and Tokyo. Come on, 9 itsy bitsy countries altogether. I even left out China so that it will be manageable so why is there a reason to chicken out? Let me list a few imaginary handicaps of mine:
I am not rich.
Whereas Kuya Erik (feeling close) came from the dotcom boom background, I come from a government background where rewards were in the form of pension plans for the end of one's life (which I'm not even eligible since I didn't work that long for each government). In other words, I don't have money growing on trees. And with my recent stint with a non-profit organization? Let's not even go there. Plain and simple, I'm on a limited budget, which leads us to my next handicap...
I am (gasp!) maarte.
Hey, I can sleep on the floor; I don't have a problem with that. I can sleep without a pillow. I can sleep with just an electric fan, BUT (notice the caps!) I need a clean bathroom. In other words, no shared bathrooms with strangers. And if that were the case, then no hostels for me. If I don't stay in hostels, I would be paying more for my accommodations, which poses a problem because of the first imaginary handicap. (What kind of a backpacker are you if you're not staying at a hostel?!) Which again leads us to my next handicap...
My stuff doesn't fit in a backpack.
Just ask my co-workers and they will definitely agree that I don't travel light. It is not exactly what I bring, but the amount of things that I bring. I don't care if my shoes match my bag. I don't care if I wear the same pants for a week. I definitely can just live off of shorts, rubber shoes, and t-shirts for weeks on end, BUT (there's that BUT again) I make sure that there are extra shirts, shorts, and what-have-yous "just in case."
Plus, the bulk of the weight of my luggage is really from toiletries: shampoo, conditioner, lotion (with sunscreen!), face moisturizer with sunscreen (oh the amount of sunspots that has surfaced on my face since coming to Manila!), contact lens solution, deodorant, toothpaste, Off! lotion...they all add up, man!
BUT, a positive BUT mind you, with my recent trip to Malapascua wherein we got caught up in a rainstorm in the middle of the sea and all my stuff got drenched, I have realized that it doesn't matter if I have brought all the clothes in the world, they're all going to get wet if they're all going to get wet. They're all going to get dirty if they're all destined to get dirty. So I could possibly survive with 4 sets of clothes for like a month-long journey (washing one set every night)...but still with the same amount of toiletries, okay?
I'm "accent-retarded."
If I'm not accustomed to hearing you speak in English (with an accent), I have problems understanding you. Remember that pedicab driver in Tacloban who asked me, "What's your name?" I asked him three times to repeat what he said and I still didn't get it. I only got it after I got back into my room. In college, I spent two weeks in my Statistics class thinking that "arfa" was a stats term, thanks to my Chinese professor (after doing my reading, I found out that I should use "alpha" in my test answers if I wanted an A).
BUT then again, I worked with so many Asian people in college and I always understood them. I even understand Kim Rae Won when he speaks English in his TV serials so heck, I will survive as long as I keep my patience. I'm patient, right? Okay, let's not answer that.
I'm pretty.
Calm down, calm down. Hear me out. I'm not saying that I'm pretty. I'm saying that other people think I'm pretty and for some reason, this poses a handicap.
When I first tried to move out of the San Mateo house and live on my own, my titas did point out to me that it wouldn't be safe for me frolicking around town at night because "I'm pretty." When I told Tita Rosalyn and Tita Marilyn that I would be going to Malapascua alone, they also objected because "I'm pretty." Kuya Gerson once told me that I should dress differently so that I don't look rich. Now since when did being attractive become a handicap?
Well, I sort of understand them now that I've lived here in Manila for one and a half years. I hate getting stared at while crossing Shaw Blvd. I hate how security guards say "Hi Ma'am" when I pass by when it's cars that they should be looking out for and not me. I hate it when passersby say "Hi Miss Beautiful" when I'm waiting for an FX or taxi on the side of the road. And if those instances don't make me want to go "My Sassy Girl" on these people, it makes me madder to know that I can very well be pretty, and yet I still remain single. What the heck is wrong with this world?!
I'm paranoid.
Thanks to my lovely friends and relatives (and loving mother) who have always emphasized to me that "the world is not safe," I pretty much have that mentality. It also doesn't help that my Lonely Planet book says that theft and violent crimes are frequent in Jakarta. I have visions of my passport and wallet being stolen and I get stuck in Jakarta for the rest of my life because I don't have enough money to get to the embassy or airport. HeHe.
I don't have friends, or friends of friends of friends, or distant relatives in these far-flung places
Except for Tokyo (yes, Rick and Roy, I'm already volunteering both of you for the job), I would be my own tour guide in these other countries. All help will come from strangers who I meet along the way and who look harmless from the outside...of course, hoping that all of them know how to speak English. It would be so crappy if the only English-speaking person in each country is the scary-looking guy at the corner. Say it ain't so!
Okay, so that was really just a long, drawn-out post to let you know that...I'm scared. HeHe. I don't think I can face the mirror again if I end up back in Seattle without having done what I had set out to do. Though I have made a serious dent on my "Wow Philippines" agenda so that's a pat on the back as far as I'm concerned (I even went and met the Secretary of Tourism. Come on, major bonus points for that!). Plus, I have a few "I almost died" stories to recount, so I do have something to tell my future grandchildren with what I've done so far.
Anyway, the next time you see me online, kindly send your "Aja! Fighting!"s, "Kaya mo yan"s, and "You go, girl!"s my way please. I need them badly...or you can just send me the list of people you know in those cities who would absolutely LOVE to show me around. That should make me smile instantly. ;P
Wednesday, February 14, 2007
Monday, February 12, 2007
Travel Motto #5: Hauling Ass Pays Off
My flight leaves at 7:20AM. According to an MRT attendant AND the front desk of the hotel, the MRT doesn't open until 6AM.
Taking a cab would cost some SGD20. Taking the MRT would cost SGD2. Money left in my EZ-link: SGD4. Money left in my wallet: SGD6.50.
I still thought that paying SGD20 for a cab was a rip-off so regardless of my circumstances, I was taking the MRT, knowing that missing my flight was a HUGE possibility (Manageable risks, Mina, take only manageable risks!).
Despite everyone telling me that the MRT opened at 6AM, I decided to go to the MRT station early. So at 5:30AM, I was once again pulling my bag with wheels along Orchard Road. I arrived at the station at 5:45AM and lo and behold, it was open! I bet it was open as early as 5:30AM! God loves me!
After the usual 3 transfers, I made it to the Changi MRT station where I hauled ass to catch the free shuttle bus to the Budget Terminal only to sit idly for ten minutes (it leaves every ten minutes and I guess I got there just when it arrived). Rest assured that I was praying non-stop during the whole 10-minute wait.
Once I got to the terminal, I hauled ass to the check-in counter, absolutely relieved to find that it was still open. Time until boarding? 5 minutes! That's the latest I had ever checked-in for a flight!
Unfortunately, I didn't get to take advantage of the free internet at the airport nor did I have time to get breakfast.
So, what did I ended up doing? I bought food onboard. I had SGD6.50; what's a girl to do? I bought the Cup Noodles. Why? Because it was food and water together. If I had gotten a sandwich, I didn't have enough money for drinks, so I would be thirsty. If I bought just drinks, I would still be hungry. Best choice? Cup Noodles. HeHe.
Got safely back to Clark and back to Mandaluyong.
Ahh! My first solo trip and I survived! I was quite worried at first, but Kuya Heinz pointed out that I traveled to Brugge (Belgium) alone before and I survived so there was nothing to worry about in Singapore. How prophetic that Kuya Heinz of mine! HaHa!
The only thing that I didn't get to do that I wanted to do was eat chicken rice. I have this thing where I have to eat the local cuisine wherever I go. In Hong Kong, I ate Chinese food (geoduck among other things). In Bangkok, I ate phad thai. Unfortunately, the streak died in Singapore. I guess, all the more reason I should go back. I heart Singapore, afterall.
Taking a cab would cost some SGD20. Taking the MRT would cost SGD2. Money left in my EZ-link: SGD4. Money left in my wallet: SGD6.50.
I still thought that paying SGD20 for a cab was a rip-off so regardless of my circumstances, I was taking the MRT, knowing that missing my flight was a HUGE possibility (Manageable risks, Mina, take only manageable risks!).
Despite everyone telling me that the MRT opened at 6AM, I decided to go to the MRT station early. So at 5:30AM, I was once again pulling my bag with wheels along Orchard Road. I arrived at the station at 5:45AM and lo and behold, it was open! I bet it was open as early as 5:30AM! God loves me!
After the usual 3 transfers, I made it to the Changi MRT station where I hauled ass to catch the free shuttle bus to the Budget Terminal only to sit idly for ten minutes (it leaves every ten minutes and I guess I got there just when it arrived). Rest assured that I was praying non-stop during the whole 10-minute wait.
Once I got to the terminal, I hauled ass to the check-in counter, absolutely relieved to find that it was still open. Time until boarding? 5 minutes! That's the latest I had ever checked-in for a flight!
Unfortunately, I didn't get to take advantage of the free internet at the airport nor did I have time to get breakfast.
So, what did I ended up doing? I bought food onboard. I had SGD6.50; what's a girl to do? I bought the Cup Noodles. Why? Because it was food and water together. If I had gotten a sandwich, I didn't have enough money for drinks, so I would be thirsty. If I bought just drinks, I would still be hungry. Best choice? Cup Noodles. HeHe.
Got safely back to Clark and back to Mandaluyong.
Ahh! My first solo trip and I survived! I was quite worried at first, but Kuya Heinz pointed out that I traveled to Brugge (Belgium) alone before and I survived so there was nothing to worry about in Singapore. How prophetic that Kuya Heinz of mine! HaHa!
The only thing that I didn't get to do that I wanted to do was eat chicken rice. I have this thing where I have to eat the local cuisine wherever I go. In Hong Kong, I ate Chinese food (geoduck among other things). In Bangkok, I ate phad thai. Unfortunately, the streak died in Singapore. I guess, all the more reason I should go back. I heart Singapore, afterall.
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