Crossing the Limits
Reporting live from Manila.
I love the feeling of crossing the world in a plane. Even when the sleeping pill overdosed-Scottish middle age gigantic man sitting in front starts delirating and suddenly raises his skirt and decides to urinate in the middle of the plane. I thought we were landing in Mongolia. The face of the Dutch stewardess trying to reanimate the guy first, and making him feel ashamed second went from Munch's The Scream to Hitler in a matter of seconds.
Human craziness apart, I love the feeling of flying through borders. Overflying Poland brought me back to 2001 and those days boyfriend husband and I were young and that first time we kissed in the garden of the Warsaw school where we spent a year of fun. The flight through Russian small villages (or at least they looked small from up there) flew me back to communism. In Kazakhstan I felt I was visiting a new country, even if all I could see was the vast blackness of unknown land. China, Mongolia, India...I don't know how many countries I mentally visited before I landed in Manila.
My first discussion with a local was with the Filipino fisherman sitting by my side. He had travelled more than my mind. For real. He was coming back from the Caribbean. "Hard work but I have seen the whole world". For a second I imagined being a fisherwoman myself, traveling the world in big boats and capturing tuna. A second later I felt cold and thought that mental travel is warmer.
After three Filipino days I reckon Spain was here for 300 years. This people, contrary to Parisians, smile!! Yes. "Pilipinos" are interesting, smiley, Latino-Asian people.
But maybe this blog is about human craziness after all. I have stayed in this fancy, central hotel plagued with obese old men hanging around with fragile, under age Filipino girls. Generalizing about prostitution in Manila after being here only for three days is not fair, but I do not choose topics, they choose me. I look at the obese man with disgust. Human craziness, crossing the limits.
I love the feeling of crossing the world in a plane. Even when the sleeping pill overdosed-Scottish middle age gigantic man sitting in front starts delirating and suddenly raises his skirt and decides to urinate in the middle of the plane. I thought we were landing in Mongolia. The face of the Dutch stewardess trying to reanimate the guy first, and making him feel ashamed second went from Munch's The Scream to Hitler in a matter of seconds.
Human craziness apart, I love the feeling of flying through borders. Overflying Poland brought me back to 2001 and those days boyfriend husband and I were young and that first time we kissed in the garden of the Warsaw school where we spent a year of fun. The flight through Russian small villages (or at least they looked small from up there) flew me back to communism. In Kazakhstan I felt I was visiting a new country, even if all I could see was the vast blackness of unknown land. China, Mongolia, India...I don't know how many countries I mentally visited before I landed in Manila.
My first discussion with a local was with the Filipino fisherman sitting by my side. He had travelled more than my mind. For real. He was coming back from the Caribbean. "Hard work but I have seen the whole world". For a second I imagined being a fisherwoman myself, traveling the world in big boats and capturing tuna. A second later I felt cold and thought that mental travel is warmer.
After three Filipino days I reckon Spain was here for 300 years. This people, contrary to Parisians, smile!! Yes. "Pilipinos" are interesting, smiley, Latino-Asian people.
But maybe this blog is about human craziness after all. I have stayed in this fancy, central hotel plagued with obese old men hanging around with fragile, under age Filipino girls. Generalizing about prostitution in Manila after being here only for three days is not fair, but I do not choose topics, they choose me. I look at the obese man with disgust. Human craziness, crossing the limits.
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