December 26, 2008: Out and About

We actually got to see some sights on this day, although my enjoyment was hampered a bit because of my cold.  While my throat improved slightly, my head got more congested and I started to ache all over.  Plus I woke up around 5 am and couldn't get back to sleep.  Good times all around.  Alma's mom gave me a Sudafed which eventually kicked in and eased the sinus pain (although the clearing led to more tickling in my nose and mouth).  At any rate, we got it together enough to go to Starbucks (exotic, right?) where wi-fi was a peso per minute (about $2.08 for the 100-minute card).  I talked to my dad for a while using AIM Video so he could hear and see me (and Alma) as well.  Certainly cheaper than 20 pesos a minute to call!   I also changed my Facebook status and posted a picture of the roast pig from the previous night.

We saw another white guy walking around - and he was actually wearing a Cubs jersey!  The few other white guys I'd seen looked European, but I'm assuming this guy was actually American.  Like most of the other white people I'd seen at this point, though, he was a 25-35 year old male who was clearly just there with his Filipina girlfriend.  Way to fit a stereotype, fellas.

For lunch we went to a paluto seafood restaurant near Manila Bay.  Basically that means that you can bring food in to them and they'll cook it for you.  We didn't do that, but there were lots of different things on the table - sinigang, barbecue pork, broiled squid, fried whole shrimp, steamed crab.  Also, Alma's dad ordered buko juice, which is the water from inside a young coconut, served still inside the coconut.  I managed to spill squid juice on myself while trying to pose for a photo, but I retained a sense of adventure and ended up trying everything on the table, including popping an entire shrimp - eyes and all - into my mouth.

After lunch we went to Intramuros, the old walled part of Manila that formed the original city.  There was some neat old Spanish architecture there, including Fort Santiago.  Inside the fort is a shrine to national hero/martyr Jose Rizal, shot by the Spanish in 1896 for his alleged part in the beginnings of the Philippine Revolution.  His place in Philippine history is comparable to someone like George Washington in America's - he wasn't a military man and never held office, but he's held in similar esteem, as a thinker and a champion of the Filipino people and their freedom.  Some people even compare him to Joan of Arc - he's revered enough that there's a substantial monument on the spot where he was executed (which we also visited briefly as the sun was starting to set) and a national holiday, Rizal Day, on December 30.  Oh, and getting back to it, there's a shrine to him inside Fort Santiago which includes a replica of his prison cell, various artwork depicting him, clothes he wore and, oh yeah, a piece of his actual bone.

After leaving Intramuros we made the quick stop at Rizal Park (formerly Luneta), site of the Rizal monument, which it didn't look like people were allowed to go anywhere near.  Hopping back in the car, we cruised down Roxas Boulevard and ended up at the Mall of Asia, which to my mind was notable mostly for looking a lot like an American mall except for the "weird" food and huge number of Filipinos.  By the time we got home I was pretty wiped out, so I turned in around 10, but not before sampling Sarsi root beer - that's right, it turns out they had a couple local root beer brands in the Philippines!  Unfortunately, Sarsi, a Coke product, was thin, fairly flat, watery, and really just tasted like a licorice soda (like Barq's with even less root).  Meh.

That's the "Moro Islamic Liberation Front."  And there's nothing funny about them, but, well... yeah.  Apparently I'm 12 years old.

A view of the street in Alma's uncle's neighborhood.  It's a gated community, so it was pretty quiet, aside from the neighbor's mynah bird, which was fond of yelling "Pangit!" all day.

Pusit, squid, served inihaw (broiled).  I eventually got so adventurous that I ate one of the tentacles, although really it doesn't taste like much and the broiling removed what I don't like about raw squid's texture.

Another of the entrees was this entire crab, steamed.

The buko - which doesn't exactly fit the Western stereotype of a coconut (we usually think of niyog, the mature, hairy coconut) - with a straw rather comically sticking out.  I was vaguely reminded of when you get sorbet served inside a half lemon or something, but way, way more so.  The water inside is slightly sweet from its contact with the buko flesh.  After Alma's dad had had his fill of the water, one of the servers cut off the top so we could pour the rest out and also eat the meat inside.

Attempting to pose with the pusit plate for Alma, I tipped it forward too far and squid juice poured all over my leg.  After a wipedown with some antibacterial cloths, I was left with this mess, looking like I had wet myself.  Fortunately it was warm enough outside that the stain dried up pretty quickly.

A view from inside the kalesa, a cart drawn by a small horse which took us around Intramuros.

The Manila Cathedral, inside Intramuros.  Although the site itself has been home to cathedrals since the late 16th century, this is actually the sixth incarnation of the cathedral and only dates to the 1950s.  Previous cathedral buildings were destroyed by earthquakes, bombing during World War II, and fire.  The original cathedral was built mainly from bamboo and palm wood, so it would be pretty impressive if it were still standing anyway.

A statue of King Carlos IV of Spain which stands near the cathedral.  It seems odd that the Philippines would leave up a statue honoring a Spanish monarch of the late 18th century, until you read Carlos (or Charles) IV's history - apparently he was a pretty weak king, eventually forced by Napoleon to abdicate.  I almost feel like the Filipinos are making fun of him by leaving this up.

We only stopped once in Intramuros besides at Fort Santiago - it was at this area which had several replica native houses.  This is the torogan, a house style from Mindanao.

A closer view of the torogan, giving a better idea of how elevated it is.

Tagalog: it's not just a language anymore.  (Well, it never was.)  It's also one of the ethnic groups of the Philippines.  This is a traditional house, with a clay floor.  Tagalog is a contraction of taga and ilog, "coming from" and "river."

I think this was an actual functioning rice terrace near the houses, the first of about eight hundred kazillion we would see on the trip.

The tour guide demonstrating how to husk rice using an outsized mortar and pestle-like setup.

The bridge to Fort Santiago.  The shot of the old fort feels slightly cheapened somehow by the modern building looming over its shoulder, but oh well.

The moat in front of Fort Santiago.  Intramuros used to have its own moat around the whole city, but that area has since been turned into a golf course.

A closer look at the entrance to Fort Santiago.

The coat-of-arms-looking thing above the fort's entrance.

The fort dates to 1592 (though it's been repaired and renovated several times since), so this image of a conquistador isn't anachronistic.  I just hope this relief isn't intended to depict Filipino natives as his victims.  That would be pretty awkward.

Everything you always wanted to know about Fort Santiago but were afraid to ask.

A stairway inside the fort, leading up to the top of the walls.

Most of the fort's interior is now taken up by this grassy space.  I believe that's another statue of Rizal in the back of the shot.

An old brick wall marks where the Rizal shrine starts.

The brick wall gives way to the newer building housing the actual artifacts.  On it you can see a sign for Rizal Day 2008, which was four days after we were there.

Wait - he was shot in the back?  Cold, Spanish.  Real cold.

One of the many busts of Rizal at the shrine.  I'm guessing this depicts him as a younger man.

First editions of Rizal's works, among other things, were collected in the "Chamber of Text."

The first thing in the chamber was some of Rizal's work arranged in this format.  Maybe not the easiest to read.

An early edition of Noli Me Tangere, the book for which Rizal is probably best known.  The plot summary on Wikipedia makes it sound horribly tragic and depressing, and it kind of takes aim at the Catholic Church, so it's no wonder the Spanish didn't love Rizal.

Another early edition of Noli Me Tangere.  It was actually written in Spanish originally.

Rizal's other novel, El Filibusterismo.  It's a sequel to Noli Me Tangere and describes an attempted revolution, which may have led the Spanish to believe that Rizal advocated violent uprising when he really didn't.

An edition of El Filibusterismo, showing its age.

I don't know anything about this book, although I'm assuming geography is involved somehow.

The sign ahead of the cell in which Rizal was kept prior to his execution.

I wasn't quite clear on whether this was the actual cell or a recreation of it, though this plaque seems pretty straightforward on the point.

See, I guess it's real, but then there's this kind of diorama thing going on in there, which I think is what confused me.  I'm going to say it was really the cell he was kept in.  Lord knows they had enough other crazy Rizalana in this place.

A portrait of Rizal.  He was only 35 at the time of his execution.

That's right - it's an actual piece of Rizal's leg bone!  A little creepy, right?  On the other hand, this fits pretty well with the Catholic tradition of relics.

Originally I wrote that Rizal was shot while wearing this shirt, but I don't think that's actually right.  I kind of hope it's not, either.  I think these are just shirts he wore earlier in life.

One of a large number of small statues of Rizal all around the shrine.  Virtually any town worth its salt has a Rizal statue in it, too.  The guy is pretty popular.

A shot from out back of the shrine.  I was a little surprised to see pine trees in this climate.

A look over the back wall of the fort.  It's pretty undeveloped out there.

The national flag of the Philippines, outside the fort.

The kalesa we rode in around Intramuros.  We saw the Mapua Institute of Technology, alma mater of both of Alma's parents and which is located within the walls.  We also saw a couple of prostitutes, who called "Daddy!  Daddy!" at the kalesa as it passed them.  "What??" the tour guide yelled.  I'm not sure if he honestly wanted to know what they had said, was trying to goof on it, or was genuinely outraged.

The Rizal statue in Luneta, now Rizal Park.  There were a ton of people there, but you can't see them because they were all behind a chain, as were we.  Those are armed guards at the statue's base.  It's like the Tomb of the Unknowns at Arlington or something.

Spend enough time in a foreign country and you're bound to run into some sort of ersatz American cuisine, but this one, in the Mall of Asia, might take the cake.   "Hamburgoo?"  How appetizing does that sound?

Mmm... burgoo...

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