Sitting in the business lounge of Hong Kong International Airport, I can't help but reflect on the time I've spent abroad. My stay in Manila was fun, exciting, challenging, at times frustrating, but also quite productive. I've had a number of experiences and have written a lot during the past three months. Most of my experiences have been good ones (people I've met and befriended; places I've seen) and some not so good (my run-ins with corrupt cab drivers; having my iPhone stolen). Still, I don't regret making the journey, though I'd really like my phone back.

Living in a third world country for a period of time will make you aware of certain things you wouldn't normally hear of or be exposed to. It probably sounds trite, but I have a new-found appreciation for the conveniences of living in New York, though I still intend to move out of the city at some point. Having access to a large variety of good quality food almost 24 hours a day, for example. That's a big one. Being single, I buy a lot of frozen vegetables because otherwise I would throw out a lot of food due to spoilage. When I was in Manila, I was only able to find frozen broccoli once when I went to the supermarket. Frozen. I would think frozen vegetables would be a staple in a place where so much produce need to be shipped from other countries. Some of the frozen foods were rife with frost and had obviously been thawed and refrozen. Needless to say, this was only one of numerous challenges I faced in adjusting to my new environment.

Another adjustment I had to make was in how things were done. There was a lack of urgency almost everywhere I went. This was something to which I, as a native New Yorker--albeit a very laid-back one--was unaccustomed. The one exception seemed to be the guy at the 7-Eleven downstairs from my apartment. That guy hustled.

Then there was my first haircut. I had no complaints with the haircut itself, but I was startled and almost shocked to the point of feeling violated when at the end the barber pushed me forward and started massaging my shoulders and upper back. Apparently, that's customary. That's nice. I think I'll pass. Now, if it was a pretty girl giving me the haircut...

Now for a more detailed experience. This took place early in September:

I stepped into the elevator with this guy I've seen in the gym downstairs on occasion. He's a muscular, bald guy with a goatee. Anyway, we ended up getting off on the same floor and walking down the same hall. We started talking. His name is Alex. He's 45 and living here with his wife, a Filipino woman named Wilma. He met her here 25 years ago. We didn't talk much and then returned to our respective apartments.

Then, a few days later, I ran into him in the gym, and we started talking again. He's Serbian and runs a private bodyguard business in Europe and is trying to extend his business down here. Most of his employees are ex-Israeli soldiers. His wife showed up. I met her, and we all talked for a few minutes, then they had to leave. Up until this point, I hadn't seen anyone in my section of this floor. It was actually a little eerie, and I've already got ideas for some kind of ghost story.

One evening, as I was locking the door of my apartment and getting ready to go to work, I looked up and this security guard dressed in a white uniform stood about twelve feet away from me. I'm usually fairly aware of my surroundings here, but I did just wake up and was running a little late. As far as I knew, the hall had been vacant.

"Good evening, sir," he said in his thick accent.

"Good evening," I replied. It may have been apparent that I was a little startled, but I don't know. 

"Can I help you with anything?" I asked. My apartment is at the very end of the hall near the fire exit, and I could see no justifiable reason he should be here at this time.

"No, sir," he said. Then he walked past me, opened the fire exit door, and entered the stairwell.

The incident struck me as beyond odd. It seemed just surreal.

The hallway was hot and humid as usual, and I wore my glasses. I proceeded to the elevator bank and hit the button.  Insects buzzed around the light fixtures, but they looked like little stars bouncing around.  At first, I didn't realize they were insects at all. At first, I thought someone was playing with a laser pointer.

When the elevator doors opened, I stepped inside, and it was literally frosty. The mirrors in the elevator were fogged up. When I reached the ground floor and left the elevator, of course my glasses fogged up as well.

As they say, it's in the details.

Labels: Hong Kong, Manila

Well, I can't say my time in Manila has been boring. Adjusting to the initial though expected culture shock, my sleep deprivation, and inclement weather has been challenging at times. Overall, it's been a good experience, and I would do it again.

I haven't blogged here in quite some time, and I know a lot of people must be wondering why I didn't blog about the typhoons. The truth is that I didn't have anything significant to report as far as my experience with the storms was concerned. Edgar, the shuttle van driver, had mentioned to me on the way to work that Friday night that a typhoon would hit us, but I didn't know how serious it could be. I worked my shift that night and came home in the rain the next morning, but I so no flooding or damage where I was at the time.

Later that night, I went out with some friends from work to Ascend, a night club at The Fort in Taguig. We saw only light rain, no flooding, nothing like any of the footage that would be broadcast on the news in the days to come. The club was only a fraction as busy as it normally would be, and we were informed it was because of the storm, but still we had no idea. The devastation caused by Ondoy has been compared to hurricane Katrina, but we didn't see any of that devastation in our area.

The next day, I received a number of calls and emails from friends and family back home and had to assure everyone of my safety. After watching the news, I could understand their concern. Many of the areas hit hardest were actually quite close to where I live and work. Fortunately, Rockwell Center, where I'm staying remained virtually unscathed.

Fort Bonafacio in Taguig City, where I work and only minutes away from Ascend wasn't so fortunate, however. Three World Square, the building I work in, is at the bottom of a large hill on Upper McKinley Road. I didn't see any evidence of flooding or damage when I drifted into work at 11 p.m. that night, though. Most of the issues had been resolved by then, but for most of the day there was no power and no phone service. I was grateful power was restored by the time I got into work because it would be brutal trying to work in that building without air conditioning.

About half of the analysts didn't make it in that day, so a good portion of our call volume was redirected back to New York, but we still got slammed. I and the other mentors who flew down here to train the first-level analysts even had to jump on the phones and take some calls, something we hadn't had to do since we arrived here.

Thankfully, all the analysts and their families survived, though a good number of them were out for the week. They and their families have had to deal with getting their homes back in order. One of the guys was displaced altogether. He and his family lost everything, and his father lost all the tools he needs for his livelihood. Thomson Reuters, the company we work for, has set up something of a disaster relief fund which he has been able to take advantage of, so hopefully that will be enough to get him and his family back on their feet.

Some have attributed the ferocity of the typhoons to climate change. Personally, I don't doubt it. Ondoy created the heaviest flooding Metro Manila has seen in over 40 years. Is this just the beginning?

Labels: Ascend, Ketsana, Manila, Ondoy, Taguig, Thomson Reuters

I guess it was bound to happen. Working from 11 p.m. to 8 a.m. the past couple days has been challenging enough since I've had to readjust my sleep schedule again. Yesterday, I came home, ate breakfast, then slept from around 10 to 12, watched Eastern Promises (good movie by the way), worked out, then slept again from 7 to 10, and headed into work. It would be nice to get some solid, unbroken sleep.

Anyway, by the end of my shift I was exhausted and looking forward to going home and getting some rest. The shuttle van my company provides was supposed to pick me up at 8:30, so I had to wait 30 minutes. Okay, I wasn't thrilled about that, but I waited anyway. By 8:45 I'd given up waiting since I was nodding to sleep on the sidewalk in front of work. I stood up, stepped out into the street and the rain, and hailed a taxi. The ride itself was smooth, and the driver didn't ostensibly try to rip me off. The problem came when we entered Rockwell. The smallest bill I had on me was 1000 pesos ($20 US), and the driver didn't have change.

"All right," I said. "You don't have change?" I looked over the seat at the meter. It read 80 pesos. "Okay. Eighty pesos," I said. "I'll be right back."

I ran into the 7-Eleven at my building and asked for change, but they didn't have it. I ran across the street to Figaro. Same problem. When I came back out into the rain, the driver had pulled up in front of the coffee shop. Apparently, he was afraid I was going to stiff him. I got back in.

"Drive up the block," I said. "There's a bank around the corner."

He drove me to the bank. I looked over the seat. The meter was still running. Scum.

We pulled up in front of the bank, and I ran up to the ATM. I didn't want to take money out because of international service fees, but I was wiped out and wanted to go home, so I did it. I took out 4oo pesos, expecting four 100 peso bills. Instead, the ATM spat out two 200 peso bills. Nice. To hell with it. I walked back down to the cab and opened the door. I held out the bill.

"Do you have change for this?" I snapped. Yes. It was a rhetorical question.

He pulled out a 100 peso bill. The meter read 90 now. He also held a twenty and smaller bills in his other hand. Nice. He was giving himself a tip. A whopping 40 cents.

"Choke on it," I barked.

I snatched the hundred out of his hand, tossed the 200 at him, and slammed the door. I'd actually planned on giving him a hundred anyway since he hadn't tried to screw me until it came time to pay, but now I was pissed. It was a two dollar cab ride with the tip, so the money was never the issue; the attitude was; the sense of entitlement, of getting over. Are you telling me no one in this damned city has change for twenty bucks?!?! I'm sure the stores didn't want to give it to me because I wasn't patronizing them at the time even though I'd been to both places several times before.

I'm still disgusted. I could take nine cab rides here for the price of one in New York, and that's not including the New York tip. I'm still floored at how these bastards are scrounging for pennies. It creates a lot of unnecessary aggravation for me and every other foreigner of whom they try to take advantage. I actually sympathize with their plight, but they're not dealing with it the right way. I guess they figure they'll never see the passenger again anyway, so get what you can from them while they're there. It's just sleazy.

Labels: ATM, cab, Eastern Promises, Figaro, international bank fees, Manila, New York, pesos, poverty, ripoff, Rockwell, sleep deprivation, taxi, work. 7-Eleven

Well, after much anticipation, I'm here. The flight was long and taxing, but it was the most pleasant one I've had yet. Wednesday morning, the car service I booked online picked me up promptly at 7:30 a.m. and took me to JFK. I met up with one of my coworkers, who's also on the same assignment, and we hung out in the first class lounge for British Airways courtesy of Cathay Pacific Airlines.

We boarded about 9:45 and took off on time at 10:10. Pretty Asian flight attendants served a number of Chinese and gourmet meals and snacks. When I wasn't busy stuffing myself, I watched a couple of the latest movies on the pull out 18 inch flat panel monitors with which every seat was equipped. My seat had the ability to recline completely, but I didn't make much use of that feature though I did fall asleep several times. In any case, by the time I arrived in Manila I was very sleep deprived.

We had a layover in Hong Kong for about two and a half hours. After getting the wrong directions to the business lounge a couple times, we passed through another security check. They confiscated the bottled water I received on my first flight for some reason, and of course I was thirsty now. It was a little unsettling to see some people walking around wearing face masks—mostly flight attendants—but I suppose I can't blame them. I'm not too concerned about a virus killing me, but I hate getting sick.

Hong Kong looks very impressive from the air, by the way. I would definitely like to spend some time there while I'm in this region of the world. Who knows when I'll get the opportunity to visit it again?

The second leg of my trip was brief—only about 90 minutes—but I fell asleep for a few minutes during that flight as well. By the time we landed at Ninoy Aquino International Airport, I was a bit haggard. Immigration was smooth, but there was some confusion with the luggage I had checked. That kept us delayed at the airport longer than we should have been, but one of the porters managed to locate it for me, so it was only a minor snag. Customs was quick, and we were on our way.

We had instructions to proceed to the AVIS counter located just outside the airport exit where we would be transported to the Rockwell Center. The nature of these instructions was a little vague. I naturally assumed we would be driven, but that wasn't explicitly stated, and it's been my experience that assumptions aren't always accurate. But when we approached the counter, the girl behind the Plexiglas looked at me and said, “Mr. Dunn?” Was it that obvious? They were expecting us, of course. That was great because I was way too tired to have to do much thinking.

Our driver's name was Jhun, and he was friendly and courteous. He was apologetic about the fact that it was rush hour and traffic was heavy. Still, we made it to Rockwell in about twenty to twenty-five minutes. Jhun dropped me off at Manansala Tower, and I approached the front desk, which was manned by two security guards. They were absolutely clueless as to the whereabouts of the keys to my apartment even though they had my name and room number clearly written down in a ledger.

“Is there a problem?” I asked, cranky and somewhat annoyed.

“The receptionist is on break, sir,” one of the men said as they both continued rifling through drawers and folders for my keys.

I rolled my eyes and looked around, taking in my surroundings. About ten minutes later, a pretty Filipino girl appeared. She greeted me with a smile, verified my name, and pulled out a bag with my information packet and keys with an ease that made the guards look clueless. I'll cut them some slack, though. It's not their job to check people in, just check people. The bellhop took my bags, showed me up to my room, and left before giving me a chance to tip him.
I settled in, took a shower, and called Randy, who I mentioned in a previous post. He was working and would be off at midnight. He suggested a bunch of us get together for drinks. I was all for it, but when midnight came I was too tired and had to cancel.

I fell asleep around 12:30 then woke just before 4 a.m. That was it. I couldn't get back to sleep. I got online and called my family via Skype. I have a free month of Skype to land-line calls, and it works pretty well.

After awhile of lounging around the apartment and eating the food from the fruit basket that awaited me when I arrived, I decided to venture outside and get a sense of what things were like here. I walked out in shorts, sandals, and a t-shirt. I figured I'd just get some necessities and maybe a bite to eat. Most of the people I encountered wished me a good morning. Native New Yorkers aren't accustomed to strangers bidding them “good morning.”

I walked around a bit and realized I have no idea where I'm going. It was very hot and humid. I found a Starbucks about two blocks away. A security guard or cop—I didn't have the presence of mind to determine which—opened the door for me. I ordered a venti mocha Frappuccino and a bagel with bacon, egg, and cheese. Total cost: 245 pesos or $5.11 US. The drink was as I had expected it, but the bacon on the sandwich was tough and chewy and not what I would consider good.

After breakfast, I started back to the apartment since the sandals were hurting my feet. I stopped off at a gourmet deli on the way and bought a couple bottles of water, totaling 50 pesos or $1.04 US. Not bad. It would seem everything here is roughly half price.

That's it for now. I'm going to get ready to head out with my work buddies in a little while. It should be quite interesting. I'm glad I know a few people here already who can show me around.

Labels: Hong Kong, Makati, Manila, pesos, Rockwell, Starbucks

I leave for Manila in a week, and I can tell you preparing for this trip has been something of an ordeal. Most of the details have been left up to me, and I feel I've been left in the dark about a few things, but it looks like the worst is behind me now.

I've had all my vaccinations, malaria tablets, and Cipro...just in case. I plan on keeping in touch with friends and relatives primarily via email and Skype, since international phone charges would be exorbitant. I was told by a coworker who has a friend at ATT that I can switch over to a $10/month maintenance plan while I'm away, so I have to look into that. I don't know if that's actually the case, since I saw online they only do that sort of thing for military personnel who are out of the country for extended periods of time. I will miss having full functionality of my iPhone. I'll continue paying rent in New York but won't pay for utilities, so I'll actually save a little more money than I would otherwise. All my expenses in Manila will be taken care of by my company.

I've heard a number of caveats from my coworker, Randy, who's been in Makati City for almost two months. You can read his blog as well as view his exceptional photos by visiting http://randyinmakati.blogspot.com. I'll certainly be on the lookout for the taxi drivers, beggars, and shady looking characters lurking by revolving doors.

I'll update this blog as frequently as possible during my trip. You can also follow me on Twitter for shorter, more frequent updates by visiting http://twitter.com/kbdunn.

Labels: ATT, Cipro, Manila, New York, Randy Le'Moine, Skype, Twitter

I recently finished writing the first draft of my second novel, Bad Men. It's pretty wild. If you can imagine a cross between A Clockwork Orange, Reservoir Dogs, and Pulp Fiction, you'll have a good idea what it's like. The story takes place in New York City, sprawling across four of the five boroughs. Those of you out there who have read excerpts seem to like it so far. Thanks for the encouragement.

The other major event that's going on in my life now is I'll be flying down to Manila toward the end of July on a three-month business trip. What? My company wants to fly me business class to the other side of the world all expenses paid? I'm in. I'll blog about my experiences here.

Until next time...

Labels: A Clockwork Orange, Bad Men, Bronx, Brooklyn, Christophe Devereux, Manhattan, Manila, New York, Pulp Fiction, Queens, Reservoir Dogs