We wrapped up our work for the week at around 3am on Friday morning. My return flight to Minneapolis (via Tokyo) didn't depart until Saturday at 8am, so I had a window to do a little site seeing. A co-worker and I arranged a city tour through the hotel. It was scheduled to depart at 1pm and return at 4pm, which fit our schedule nicely.
It turned out to just be the two of us and our guide Jordan (just Jordan not Michael as he reminded us). We pulled out of the hotel in a minivan at just after 1pm and were off to see the city. Which for the most part meant fighting the incredible levels of traffic which choke Manila. For $22 you too can be stuck in bumper to bumper traffic battling buses, the ubiquitous Jeepneys, taxis, trucks, motorcycles, scooters, bikes, and just about anything else on wheels that you can imagine.
Previous travel experience in Mexico and China (and riding with the Nihlist In Golf Pants) has taught me that it's best to not look straight ahead when you're a passenger in these situations. You don't really want to know just how close you actually come to being pan caked, sideswiped, and rear ended. To say nothing of your own vehicle hitting pedestrians and bicyclists. Multiple times. Close calls aren't the exception but the rule. It takes a special combination of steady nerves and certainty of purpose for a driver to survive such conditions, and as a passenger all you can do is pray that the person behind the wheel who you're entrusting your life to has it. Thankfully, Jordan had it in spades.
And he was a good guide as well. We spent most of the tour driving (or what passes for driving in Manila) around with Jordan pointing out various landmarks. The legacy of the Marcos's still hangs heavy over the city. Literally heavy. I don't know if Imelda or Ferdinand had a piece of the concrete game in the Philippines (chances are they did since they seemed to have a finger in almost everything), but they definitely had an affinity for cement. Building a theater? Cement. An arts center? Cement. The arena where the "Thriller In Manila" took place? Cement. The Filipino Senate building? Cement, cement, and more cement. Okay they did build a palace of coconuts (the aptly named Coconut Palace), but for the most part the Marcos's construction material of choice was cement.
Which gives parts of the city a drab, depressing Eastern European feel. Huge blocky, concrete buildings which have been stained by the omnipresent pollution and oppressive humidity. They probably never were all that attractive to begin with, now they are eyesores which are a blight on the city. And we're not exactly talking about a city with a lot of bright spots to begin with.
One of the things that struck me as soon as I arrived in Manila was the Christmas fervor that gripes the city. Walking off the plane we were greeted by Christmas lights, decorations, and carols playing over the PA system at the airport. There's something strangely unsettling about hearing the strains of "White Christmas" upon your arrival in such a tropical clime. It just doesn't seem right.
And as we drove around the city, we noticed more and more of the Christmas spirit. Stores along the sides of the road offered hundreds of circular ceramic Christmas decorations that featured an array of colorful lights. A giant Santa loomed over the entrance of an amusement park.
We stopped at a park near the U.S. Embassy which featured a memorial to the National Hero of the Philippines, Dr. Jose P. Rizal who was executed by the Spanish in 1896. As we strolled through the park, sweating in the midday sun, eighty-five degree temperature, and high humidity, we were once again treated to the sounds of Christmas carols as "Winter Wonderland" blared from the park's loudspeakers. It was very surreal. The park also featured a bust that I initially took for Joseph Stalin. Upon closer inspection, it turned out to be simply another hero of the Philippines.
One of the interesting stops on our short tour was a visit to the Intramuros: the walled city originally constructed by the Spanish in 1571. During the days of Spanish rule there was a large moat around the Intramuros. After Admiral Dewey helped force the Spanish to cry "no mas" in the Spanish-American War, the United States took control of the Philippines and the Intramuros. The Yanks promptly filled in the moat around the walled city, and, in an act that I find quintessentially American, they built a golf course. Where you can still swing the sticks to this day (this is a shot of the tee box on the first hole).
Fort Santiago is located within the Intramuros near the point where the Pasig River enters Manila Bay. The fort was built by the Spanish and served as headquarters at various times for Spanish, American, and Japanese military forces. It was destroyed during the Battle of Manila in 1945, but has been reconstructed (although it is still a work in progress). The place reeks of history (or was that the river?) and as you walk around you can almost visualize the events that took place there. The cell where Dr. Rizal spent his last day on earth has been moved to the fort and a statue and museum dedicated to his life. You can also visit the Wall of Martyrs, in memory of the 600 Filipino guerrillas and civilians whose bodies were found inside the fort after it was liberated in 1945.
The last stop on our three --now turned five-- hour tour was the American military cemetery. It would turn out to be the highlight of the day. The cemetery is an eerily beautiful and sobering place. It's layout is spectacular and the scenery is breathtaking. The lavish landscaping and perfectly manicured grounds give it the appearance of a botanical garden.
We arrived shortly before the cemetery was set to close and so were alone except for a few workers refurbishing the memorial hemicycles. Alone with 17,206 white marble crosses and Stars of David marking the final resting of American servicemen who fell in the Second World War.
There are also 36,285 names inscribed in the walls of the hemicycles, listing soldiers, sailors, airmen, and Marines whose remains have not been identified or were lost or buried at sea.
It was an overwhelming experience to walk among the crosses, stopping to occasionally read the names of the individual servicemen. I was struck by the fact that, in twenty cases, two brothers lay buried side by side. Words cannot do justice to the feelings that such a place evokes, and so I'll leave it to pictures:
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We were at the cemetery on November 12th, and the memorial tower was still decorated with wreaths sent by various countries in honor of Veterans Day. I was grateful that we had been able to visit the cemetery that day, and I could not imagine a more meaningful way to fully appreciate the sacrifices of our nations veterans. The tour of Manila proved more than worth the time and money.
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