Spend an afternoon with Gerry Desierto and you will learn many “secrets to success”. I wish now that I had written them all down, but if I had stopped to do so, that may’ve disrupted the genius of the day. I agreed with all of them. For example, there was a discussion on diversifying your skills and income sources: “It is the secret to success!” Another conversation focused on the importance of family: “It is the secret to success!” Living below your means? That’s right, “The secret to success!” The man needs to write a book. All kidding aside, there are many definitions of success in this world, but if anybody comes close to getting it right, the Desierto family could be it.
Sitting in the small coffee shop outside of the Manila airport, I met several people heading in or going out. I even received an email address from a sweet chain-smoking filipino girl who said she and her family would love to host me in their one room apartment if I ever returned to the Philippines for real. Her large and balding boyfriend flipped open his wallet often to show pictures of their son to anyone that got caught in the conversation. They were hanging out in the coffee shop because in a few hours he was heading back to L.A. to do taxes and appease his american wife.
I arrived early morning; something like 3am. After asking several people and the internet, it seemed the best option I had for exploration and entertainment for my 15 hour layover was the Mall of Asia. Great. We all know how Laura loves shopping. However, you can learn a lot about a place by what and how people buy things, so while I was regretting my purposeful long layover in Manila, I decided I was going to get something out of it . . . but I had to wait until 9 or 10 for the shops to open. Until then, it was all coffee and sweating and reading and furrowing my brow at my swOllen-swOllen ankles, and oh yes, rolling waves of Nerves.
I admit, I was nervous about the taxis. I am always nervous about the taxis. Internet says: “Don’t let them cheat you! Make them use the meter!” and then the old filipino couple on the plane says: “Whatever you do, don’t let them use the meter! They will cheat you!” Okay.
Then someone tells me not to use the taxis at the airport but to walk down the road a while and get a taxi there, and then it will be cheaper. Someone else says to watch out for the taxi drivers who will use a spray to put you to sleep so they can rob you. Great.
I was near-paralyzed with opposites, unsure of how I was going to get to the mall. I was considering scrapping the whole plan and staying safe at the airport. What kind of traveler would I be then? Well, I avoided the whole thing when I accepted a ride from the Desiertos. I first noticed them because an older grey-haired man seemed, from the corner of my eye, to be staring at me, smiling. I gave him a timid smile back and concentrated on the page in hand; a typical Laura move. It was later that he, Felix, (a very religious man) told me that he was praying to God that his family could meet me. Well, after he left to meet his daughter, Michelle, his son and daughter-in-law, Gerry & Jane, struck up a conversation with me.
When you travel, you easily meet 5 - 25 people a day, 24 of which are usually good people. However, sometimes you meet people that you know almost instantly are great people that you could trust with practically anything in the world. Within minutes, I felt that way about this family, and I found that I was right to do so.
Before they were to drop me off at the Mall of Asia, they wanted to go to the Duty Free mall, which you can only take advantage of if you have had a flight into the country. Michelle’s flight back into the Philippines from her work as an OBGYN in Oman afforded their family an opportunity to buy a lot of necessities (and goodies!) for a large discount.
We arrived a little early, so we sat with the rest of the shoppers in the cafeteria to wait for it to open. There were lots of security personnel and metal detectors . . . Everywhere we went, really. There was even a gun drop-off at the entrance! I asked if lots of people carry guns in the Philippines, and was told no, but there are many rich people with body guards that do.
To announce the opening of the mall, they played the Philippines national anthem over the loudspeakers. Everyone stood, reverent. I like that. Last Saturday, waiting for my night train to Chumphon, I went to see “Divergent” in Bangkok, and the theater played the Thai national anthem before it started, paired with visuals of children singing through tears and the King doing service to the people. I almost cried, I admit it. I love national anthems.
Strolling around the Duty Free Mall, I was able to spend time talking with each of them. I loved hearing about their family and their jobs and the vacation house they run (which, by the way, can hold 50 people, so I told them I would bring 49 friends with me when I returned! Who wants to join?). I learned about famous Filipinos, and that Filipinos make the best nurses and caretakers (known the world-round), and I also learned that Filipinos love America due to the assistance in gaining independence, among other things. (According to Wikipedia: “As one of the oldest Asian partners and closest strategic major non-NATO allies of the United States, the Philippines has consistently been the most pro-American nation in the world, with 90% of Filipinos viewing the U.S. and 91% viewing Americans favorably in 2002,[1][2] 90% of Filipinos viewing U.S. influence positively in 2011,[3] and 85% of Filipinos viewing the U.S. favorably in 2013.”)
After the shopping trip, they decided that instead of dropping me off at the Mall of Asia, they wanted to take me to “the best” mall, where we would have lunch. It is called Greenbelt, which is in “Makati,” a fancy metro center section of Manila.
And it was fancy. There was a trunk check on the way into the parking lot, more security gates and guards, and even a dress code (if you weren’t an obvious foreigner). We settled on eating at “Gerry’s” since I wanted to eat Filipino cuisine, and we liked to joke that Gerry owned it. I have no remembrance of the names of the things I ate, but it was all good.
We battled the famous Manila traffic back to the airport, including a short stop at the bay near the Mall of Asia, and I was glad I didn’t end up going there. It was ridiculously large and crowded. I was pretty tired at this point, as my internal clock was sitting somewhere around midnight, and my ankles were still very swollen. Felix walked me to the security gate after I said goodbye to Gerry, Jane, and Michelle. I almost teared up saying goodbye to Felix, with his grandfatherly concern and care. He told me I was part of the family now. I kept thinking of how grateful my family would be to know how well the Desiertos had cared for me. In just a few hours, a bond was formed. I can’t tell you how much I love this family. Love comes quick to open hearts.
But an open heart can be a drunken fool, trusting and loving anyone it crashes into. After making it through the light security back into the terminal, I was approached by a tall Filipino-Chinese man who said he had seen me with my friends in Makati. Within a minute I had somehow exchanged email addresses with him and he was off to his flight to visit his mother in Hong Kong. It seemed harmless enough; likely just another contact in a place I won’t visit (Davao City). However, he came back and kept finding me in places all over the airport, sitting down to chat like old friends. I wasn’t really in a social mood anymore and I admit it was a little creepy. Eventually, though, his flight was leaving for real. He made sure to say goodbye at least twice, reminding me to write him often.
No harm done: I have since received several emails reminding me to take my meals on time. I suppose somebody’s gotta do it.
