Orientation Day Two started much the same as Day One, except we took water with us on our jog.  Trotting towards Quezon Circle, we stumbled upon the offices of our host organisation, the place we would be working for nine months following orientation week.  It was a modest piece of real estate shared by several non-government organisations (NGO’s), fronted by a sheet metal door, padlocked shut this Sunday morning. Less than a hundred meters away was a Dunkin’ Donuts, also padlocked shut, as mind-boggling as that seems. Starbucks and Seattle’s Best were open just across the street — but we resolved to return for some Dunky when they opened at eight.

Quezon Circle was a madhouse. Just outside, the innermost traffic lane was closed for the exclusive use of lycra-clad cyclists, who whizzed and whirled past in a continuous pack three or four across. Inside, Christian leaders of numerous sects prepared their respective performance stages for services, while hundreds of families in their Sunday best competed for parking and filed in. The boxers and joggers still held sway in the respective districts, but now a thousand rogue Zumba-philes pulsed and gyrated to the throbbing strains of their goddesses’ guidance. Continue reading 04. Getting Down to Business →

The human mind is an amazing thing, particularly in times of stress. Usually, I thrive on stress, at my best when there’s way too much to do. There is a limit to this, though. In the weeks prior to my departure for Manila, I reached it.

In preparation for the flight I had reduced the sum of my worldly possessions to thirty kilos (66 pounds) in four bags (two checked, two carry-on), the Philippines Airlines baggage allowance. One might think that would simplify life, but my brain’s reaction was to render me incapable of remembering where I put anything. Worse, I became unable to complete any task without starting three others, a parabolic formula for a panic attack. I spent two full weeks frantically turning in circles, scanning tabletops, patting pants pockets, rummaging through manifold zippered baggage compartments, desperately trying to find whatever it was I had put down moments earlier when I instructed myself “Remember you put it there.”

All packed, Frank and I ended up well over the weight allowance. In what is sure to be the first of many such ploys, we played the volunteer card at baggage drop, grovelling for forgiveness of what would have been a $224 excess baggage charge. It worked a charm. Never underestimate the effectiveness of a good grovel. Continue reading 02. Mind Games →