ten ₱esos

Today I took my compact umbrella and a camera and headed downhill to Baguio Gold Barangay (neighborhood/borough). Although the sky was clouding and my knees, shins and ankles ached, I thought that I’d get some exercise and see and photograph the mine entrances, refineries, tram lines, rock arch, pool of water, hills swathed in clouds … In previous forays to Baguio Gold I had no camera, or I had my camera phone and made a few lousy pics.

Baguio Gold Elementary School – blue building is the older, wood structure, and the pale yellow one behind it is the newer, cast-concrete building paid for by Japanese

I enjoyed the quiet walk downhill, about a mile, I guess, past the elementary school. I met Andy and Nick who said, as they tend to, that the sky was threatening rain. I replied, “Yeah,” as I do each time and told them that I want to enjoy a walk downhill to photograph the sights without harsh, direct sunlight.

broken, rusting water cistern through which you can see the newer school building

But the clouds began dropping a light rain shower, I opened my umbrella to shield my camera, and I thought about returning to home. Just then I heard a jeepney straining uphill. I looked, saw it coming ‘round the bend, waved my free arm, and clambered into it as the sky began pouring rain in earnest. Wow – I got lucky today.

The boys climbed in behind me to escape the downpour and rode for free for a couple hundred meters uphill. I told the boys that I had bought a Sepak Takraw ball and net for them and that I’d bring it one day. They asked, “tomorrow?” and I said, ‘maybe.’ I paid 7.5 pesos, stepped out into the torrent at my street then jogged to home.

We have rain each day this week, and we have to plan our outdoor activity ‘around’ it. I hoped that tomorrow I could return to Baguio Gold, bringing a Sepak ball and net for the boys.

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Much later, after the rain had abated, Dominic and I went into the city for dinner. We tried a place we hadn’t before, Ionic Café, which was a smoky, dim, low-ceiling joint for “hot/cold coffee, hot/cold tea, appetizers, sandwiches and pasta.” That’s what the sign reads. We had pasta with delicious smoked chicken in sauce. Delicious. I had 7-Up and pineapple juice while Dominic drank orange juice or mango juice.

We walked on Mabini Street toward the road junction where jeepneys jockey for position to await passengers. That’s where we board jeepneys bound for Tuding to go home. We often look left into the many storefronts, doorways and windows bordering the filthy sidewalk. You’d be amazed at the number of businesses sharing a an opening onto the street.

One alcove leads to an OB/GYN, a greasy spoon, an optical shop and a new/used cell phone vendor. You’d be surprised what’s in basements that you can see from the sidewalk! We see grocery stores, liquor stores, internet cafés, diners, a butcher…

Today I glimpsed billiard tables and bowling lanes and pins down in a warren, and Dominic and I veered off the sidewalk to look into it. It was a pool hall with six bowling lanes behind it. We picked our way through the crowds around the pool tables to reach the little desk for “Olympia Lanes.” We inquired about the price per game and what shoes are required. The price for 10 frames is 22 pesos, and any shoes can be worn on the tired, old wood lanes. We got a score sheet and went to lanes 5 and 6. Lane 7, on which I saw miscellaneous junk, isn’t bowled on; it’s walked by the human pin-setters. That’s right; three men stood behind the scenes to set and reset pins on the six usable lanes.

Dominic and I bowled ‘duck pins’ with candle pin balls. Guess who won. Not me; I stank like limberger cheese. I had no consistency. I developed no technique. I wished for a proper bowling ball with three finger holes! We bowled twenty frames, Dominic beat me handily, and the loser paid 88 pesos for the games. I don’t want to do that again. I have no method, no form, no …results.

Click here to see Dominic bowling (204kb video)

I tried different things. A foot sweep isn’t necessary when slinging a small ball that weighs only a few pounds, but I tried it anyway, just for kicks. Dominic suggested lofting a little, which I didn’t want to do, and later suggested arching my back and lofting the balls somewhat. I didn’t feel like it, but I tried various grips and releases and speeds. The duckpins aren’t tall, so they don’t knock each other down as I would expect when bowled. So I tried more power for more dispersion of the pins after impact. That hampered my accuracy, though.

Once I tried a longer back swing. That didn’t help my release. I missed having little red darts or arrows on the floor, but the real drawback was little (6” diameter?) balls without finger holes that I couldn’t release properly with consistency. Oh, well. I bowled a strike once, but I was really erratic. Two gutter balls, I think. I watched the Filipinos bowling on nearby lanes. They had odd and differing techniques. Watching their forms wasn’t helpful.

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We may return to Olympia Lanes one day, if we can find it. But I won’t look too hard to see it. Duckpins with candle balls is not my game. An upside for some is that Dominic and I gave the loitering pool hall and bowling alley patrons something to watch. I feel like a curiosity most places that I go. While wearing shades I see many Filipinos furtively looking at the freckled, hairy white man and even staring when they don’t know that I can see them.

Senior citizens don’t pay as much attention, unless they want to sell something to me. They’ve seen and dealt with white people before. And tiny tots 1-4 years old don’t look twice. I certainly don’t look similar to their family members and playmates, but they aren’t old enough to consider that I’m a foreigner.

But Filipinos ages 5 and up look at me almost everywhere I go, especially if I’m carrying a camera and look like a tourist. If Dominic is walking with me on a sidewalk or in a crosswalk or standing on a street corner trying to hail a taxi or jeepney we get more curious looks. Two white men are more noticeable than one, especially when we’re not mixed into a crowd.

On jeepneys I see the elementary school kids unabashedly looking at my large, western nose, my freckles and the hair on my arms. One day a little girl beside me patted and stroked my arm because the hair on it was so novel to her. Her companion watched her with incredulity as if she were petting a dangerous animal. I wasn’t going to bite, though. I was wearing a 2 1/4” crucifix, and my face was pleasant, I suppose. I often smile at people and greet them, though not usually on a jeepney.

Mention of my camera reminds me that I’ve only seen three Filipino men with SLRs. Three. One was in an elevator and two were together in Burnham Park on a weekend. Dominic remarked one day that he hadn’t seen anyone -in Burnham Park, downtown, in front of the cathedral or anywhere- toting cameras.

I guess that digital cameras and film SLRs are luxuries. In camera stores and department stores the digicams offered for sale are Chinese brands that I don’t recognize, with prices low enough that Filipinos could afford them. But I suspect that the locals rely on the cameras in their ubiquitous cell phones. †