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23rd January 2015 #1
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A life of peace and quiet? Don't move to the Philippines
I'm writing this on a beach-cottage balcony, nestled on one of the Philippines' smallest islands, Guimaras. To use polite language, it has been a "challenging adventure" to get here. It's been like being jammed inside a washing machine: two hours by taxi; one hour's delayed flight from Manila; 30 soaking minutes by bamboo boat and one squashed hour hunched with countless passengers inside a squat box on wheels known as a ‘jeepney’. Then, finally, 45 back-breaking minutes on a motorbike driven by a Filipino Evel Knievel along a distinctly unbeaten track that NASA could use to simulate moon buggy rides.
This remote resort has no internet or phone signal, unless you loiter in a corner of their restaurant near the ladies' toilet. (No, really Miss, I'm just trying to get a signal – and not that kind of a signal.)
Hoping to relax at this beautiful but hard-to-find haven, I gaze from my balcony towards the sunset, over a turquoise cove dotted with lush green islets. I can hear the soothing rustle of zephyrs rippling through trees along the shore; waves bubbling gently against powdery white sand; and the heavy thudding beat of pop music.
The Philippines may be the noisiest country on our highly disturbed little planet. Public discos and karaoke machines create the most mountainous audio waves in this archipelago's towering aural landscape. So even though I've travelled like a Hobbit on a multi-movie odyssey to reach this far-flung resort, and even though the infernal music is three miles away, it is so loud that half the people on Guimaras can hear it.
In the heat of a fiesta season, excited Filipino villagers turn up their street party's volume relentlessly, showing no mercy for loudspeakers or eardrums. The amplified beat doesn't just set feet tapping – it vibrates internal organs into locomotion. While foreigners might wince at the distortion of blown speakers, Filipino merrymakers are too busy singing, dancing and enjoying themselves to notice. This is not an ideal place to read a book – unless it's about ear surgery.
I sought out the perceived solace of Guimaras as a 'quieter' island, to escape the daily din of Manila's mayhem. In that cacophonous city, a wide range of noisy enemies assault residents’ ears. Car-horns are incessant. Horatio Hornblower knows the victim ahead can't move anywhere unless his vehicle is airlifted out by a Chinook helicopter; but this doesn't seem to stop Horatio from hitting the horn like a drunken percussionist frustrated with his limited role in life's symphony.
Dogs often bark through the night – somewhat unwisely, you might think, as they could well end up on the next barbecue in this country where such items still appear on some provincial menus. If I were a dog in the Philippines, I'd keep my thoughts to myself and adopt a lower profile.
Just when you think it’s safe to sleep after the dogs' barking mad chorus, bone-chilling screeches are generously provided by a rooster next door – and in the Philippines, there is nearly always a rooster next door. But these alarmingly loud creatures are sacred here – bless them – especially if they're cockfighting champions (below), so their nocturnal freedom of expression is much more important than your right to peace as a mere human trying to sleep.
And wherever I've travelled in this frenetically growing country, I've been pursued by the Chap with a Hammer. Whether buried deep in the middle of a metropolis surrounded by high-rise construction projects, or hiding away on a remote beach, this Chap with a Hammer always knows where to find me. I've noticed he prefers to start work early – around 7am, so we can all hear how diligent he is. But then around 10am he knocks off for the day, as everyone is now wide awake and he can retire to sleep, no doubt dreaming of a job well-done.
Apart from fiesta-time, Guimaras can offer tranquillity – notably at La Puerta al Paraizo, where thoughtful resort owners take noise control seriously. And if you have more money than a freelance journalist – who doesn't? – then there are comfier ways to reach this dream destination, so the washing machine experience is optional.
During that jeepney (tumble-drying) cycle of my journey, I noticed one mother cradling a toddler who slept continuously as we roared over rough roads – despite the ancient diesel engine’s loud growls, oblivious to passengers’ shouts. This babe in arms slumbered blissfully throughout our trip, as though she were wrapped in cotton wool and floating on clouds, softly serenaded by angels playing harp lullabies.
Maybe that’s the secret to sleeping peacefully in the Philippines: if you're born here, then nurtured in a very noisy environment – only silence can wake you.
Steve Lunt is a British journalist and filmmaker based in Manila.
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23rd January 2015 #2
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It tickled me so much to read that
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23rd January 2015 #3
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I thought it was going to be YOUR blog. lol
A close ( Brit ) friend of mine has lived on that island with his Filipina wife and their 2 kids for many years.
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23rd January 2015 #4Maybe that’s the secret to sleeping peacefully in the Philippines: if you're born here, then nurtured in a very noisy environment – only silence can wake you.-=rayna.keith=-
...When you realize you want to spend the rest of your life with somebody, you want the rest of your life to start as soon as possible...
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23rd January 2015 #5
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26th January 2015 #6
Sometimes you're flush and sometimes you're bust, and when you're up, it's never as good as it seems, and when you're down, you never think you'll be up again. But life goes on.
The beauty of a woman is not in the clothes she wears, the figure that she carries, or the way she combs her hair. The beauty of a woman is seen in her eyes, because that is the doorway to her heart, the place where love resides. True beauty in a woman is reflected in her soul. It's the passion that she shows to the outside world.
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26th January 2015 #7
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- Jul 2005
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- Pangasinan
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