Writing about the Philippines and recovering from my emotional hangover has taken longer than I thought. It may be helpful to re-read Part 1 to jog your memory on what happened last time! I’d also like to give special thanks to The Monching’s Guide, a brilliant food blogger in the Philippines, for his invaluable advice and recommendations tailored for me throughout my journey. I would have been lost or frustrated without him.
I wake up to a brilliant day in Makati. The weather is good, and so is my mood. I head to my favorite part of Metro Manila: Manila City. It may be confusing to hear that there is a city named Manila in Metro Manila. To put it simply, Metro Manila consists of 16 cities, and Manila City is one of them. Here is a map to clarify what I am talking about:
The places mentioned in this blog post are in Manila City, so you will see the name Manila only throughout the post.
Intramuros and Rizal Park
I remember my first visit to Intramuros and Rizal Park three years ago. I want to revisit them to revive my memories and see if there are any changes to my favorite part of Manila! Visiting these places is vital if you are keen on learning about the local culture. Eager coachmen greet us and start telling us about the history of Intramuros, but as much as I love learning history from locals, I don’t enjoy unsolicited information and assumptions about my prior learning.
We prefer to walk in this walled city, once home to the Spanish Empire. However, there is one spot that I must have missed in 2019: The Dungeons of Fort Santiago. It is a tragic site where the US Army found 600 decomposing bodies in 1945 following the country’s liberation. I read more about this hair-rising place and can’t help but feel extremely overwhelmed. The only places that had previously subjected me to incapacitating emotional or mental stress were Chiran Peace Museum and Hiroshima Peace Memorial Museum in Japan.
It breaks my heart to see the suffering people went through last century. My heart goes out to the victims and their families, and I leave the dungeons wishing for a better world where there will be no more atrocities, tears, and suffering. It is high time we all learned from 20th-century history and stopped repeating the same mistakes.
The rest of the walk is pleasant. Intramuros is as lively and lovely as before. We enjoy our lunch at Belfry Cafe in Intramuros and head to Rizal Park. Some parts of the park are under construction, but apart from that, everything else is the same. Rizal Park is a historic place with a haunting background. The national hero, Dr. Jose Rizal, was executed in the park premises, then known as Luneta Park, in 1896.
Children are running around and playing games, unaware of this burden placed on their nation’s shoulders. We silently stand in front of The Rizal Monument and try to grasp the scope of the history of this land that was formerly unknown to us. Manila is rich in history; unfortunately, for the same reason, there is no shortage of tragedy in this city.
Free Rides Come with A Price
After spending hours walking in Intramuros and Rizal Park, our legs give up and beg to return to the hotel. We discuss how to go back to Makati. We usually travel within Metro Manila by LRT and MRT. They are comfortable and frequently operate, all the while managing to be budget-friendly, unlike the country I live in (yes, Japan railway companies, I am shaking my fists at you!).
Being the queen of impracticalities and random local adventures, I decide to go back to Makati using the public ferry. The Pasig River Ferry Service is free (for now) and covers 25 kilometers of the Pasig River. But, of course, we will know if it is free once we get to the Escolta Station. We will also learn that you need to carry a valid ID to be on board.
We arrive at the ferry station, and the friendly staff tells us we don’t need a ticket. It’s free! Yay! (What’s the catch?) They ask us to present our IDs, which we both fail to provide. Thankfully, they accept a copy of my passport. Meanwhile, my husband has no ID whatsoever on him. Smiling faintly, he shows his vaccine passport to the staff. Oops! We have two options. We will either say goodbye to our Pasig River adventure (did I already mention it’s free?) or convince the friendly staff that we are innocent global citizens intending no harm.
They seem unconvinced, leaving me with one option I bring into play only under dire circumstances and as a last resort: being the universally dreaded, unsatisfied wicked wife that likes to squabble over the tiniest inconveniences. I turn to him and tell him that he always ruins my adventures! Pleased with the attention I get, I up my game and say, “How dare you! How dare you not bring your ID with you! Even I don’t know who you are! Are you from Japan or Djibouti? How will these good people know!”
My body language compliments my staged anger: folded arms, frowned brows, and a high-pitched voice. The staff and those around us feel for my husband and let us in to save the poor husband from his bickering wife. I tell him to grab a nice seat and wink. He looks down. Coming from a culture where irony, sarcasm, acting, or tricking(!) aren’t overtly used, he believes I am really mad at him. I say, “Get a grip! It wasn’t real!” and enjoy my free ride on the Pasig River. Only people in intercultural marriages/relationships can understand the hurdle of spelling things out for their partner, after all!
Stay tuned for the next part about my adventures in Cebu, Bohol, and Panglao!
Disclaimer: Nobody got hurt or fired because of this ninja act. Those who know my earlier posts would remember the advanced stealth techniques I borrowed from ninja!
Bahanur is abroad! 
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