Last weekend, I met Yuliana and Sveta, a lovely Russian couple who were staying in Manila for a few days, before heading to the beaches like any sane foreigner should. I met Yuliana through couchsurfing.org, told her I'd be more than happy to drive them around the city although I would not be able to host them at home . On their first night here, my friend, Dianna and I, took Yuliana and her girl friend, Sveta, to Mesa for dinner, followed by music and drinks in Saguijo. I figured watching a live band would be a good way to break the ice, seeing as we've never met before and as there was a bit of language barrier.
Yuliana and Sveta were very interesting. Yuliana had only started to learn English, but our conversations were nevertheless lively. Both of them are poets and are fond of traveling. They do not drink often, but they do indulge once in awhile. They were very adventurous, and were willing to sample Filipino delicacies (except maybe balut). Yuliana even tried (and loved) dinuguan. I love their disposition. I think, if I were Russian, or if I lived in Russia, they would be the type of people I'd be friends with. It's a tragedy that we had a bit of a language barrier and that we only had a few days together because I honestly wanted to get to know them more. Had we spoken the same language, I imagine the four of us would have had long conversations about life, or philosophy, or art, or poetry or music, instead of just truncated sentences and exaggerated hand gestures.
The following day was pretty random. Dianna had a photoshoot in Tali Beach in Nasugbu so we tagged along. I wasn't sure if Yuliana and Sveta would appreciate the long drive and the lollygagging by the beach (which is pretty much all that we did). We literally just sat by the beach to watch the sunset and see the stars rise, listening to music. I probably drove a total of ten hours that day, but I'd take a ten-hour drive to the beach over a two-hour drive to Makati any day.
On the third day, which was my last day with them, we drove around Manila to places even I had never been to. Upon their request, we went to Manila North Cemetery where people lived in mausoleums, and slept beside crypts. After that, we went to Intramuros. Dianna and I were like tourists in our own country.
I grew up idealizing the provincial life. Having grown up in this city, all I could see in between sunsets were the awful things about Manila that confront me daily so I always dreamt of living in the province. I despised the noise, the pollution, the traffic and the squalor of Manila. I hated how disconnected it is with its history, and how I cannot quite tell what it's culture really is. But recently, I've had the privilege of looking at Manila from the eyes of a tourist and saw how beautiful my city is and isn't. I feel like my city got stuck and is slowly wasting away between its past and its imagined future. You can almost see its struggle to become a modern city just by looking at the river banks of Pasig River.
I feel a pain for my city and the people living in it. I remember how Rizal wrote about the Pasig River and the magnificent view of Manila's elite astride the steamer Tabo as the river meets Laguna Lake in El Filibusterismo:
“The steamer was just then entering the lake and the view was really magnificent. Everyone was impressed. The beautiful lake, ringed by green banks and blue mountains, stretched out before them like an immense mirror in a frame of emeralds and sapphires where Heaven might look at itself. To the right a series of bays made graceful curves in the low shore, with farther on, half-blurred, the hook of Sugay; ahead, as a background, was Mount Makiling, majestic, imposing, crowned with light clouds; to the left, the island of Talim and the Susong Dalaga, ‘the Maiden’s Breasts,’ with the soft undulations which had given its name.”
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