And by reef, I’m referring to language. It came down to the Philippines and Cambodia when I was contemplating where I might retire. I chose the PI primarily because English is more prevalent there. Now, after over four years in the country, I can say that having deep, meaningful conversations with a Filipina (at least the ones I tend to meet) is a rare event. Even so, this trip has been a reminder that not having the ability to communicate, even on a surface level, makes life much more challenging. There are English-speaking locals here, but nothing like back home.
I had a very nice full-body massage yesterday morning. I was offered some extra service at the end and accepted. When she finished the job with her talented hands, I encountered a severe breathing attack. The last time I had one that bad, I was at home and able to use my nebulizer, which provided almost immediate relief. That option wasn’t available, but I always carry an inhaler with me, and I breathlessly put it to use; it took some time before my lungs opened up again and accepted oxygen. The incident freaked out my masseuse and gave me a few “oh, shit, is this how it ends?” moments as well, but I lived to write about it here. This time.
After the massage, I retraced my steps to the small mall where the Hard Rock Cafe is located. There is a Smart phone shop there, and I spent two bucks for a week’s worth of phone service. On the way out, I popped into the Hard Rock gift shop to see about getting me a new ballcap (my Hard Rock–Seoul cap is on its last legs).
When dinner time rolled around, I went to the bar downstairs for a beer and waited for Denny to arrive. He was running a little late, and I was on my third brew when he arrived. Alone. My “blind date” hadn’t responded to his messages, and the girl he was supposed to bring was a no-show too. I was a little surprised when the “hairy armed waitress” from the previous night joined us in the tuk-tuk to go to the restaurant. Unbeknownst to me, Denny had invited her last night.
It took a while for the driver to find the Korean restaurant, which was in a part of town I’d never seen before. Always good to see new places.
She (sorry, her name escapes me) left early, needing to go to work. So, Denny and I did our best to eat all that food.
Denny insisted on paying for the entire meal, and the tab came to $95. He pulled out a crisp new one hundred dollar bill, and I said let me try and use one of my old ones. I gave it to our waitress, and she came back and said the cashier wouldn’t accept it. I said, well, that’s all I’ve got; what do we do now? We did a little back and forth; she checked with the cashier again and came back and asked if I had a credit card. Hmm. Well, I did bring my card, and so I used that and kept the new Franklin that Denny had given me. At least I saved the ATM fee.
We caught a tuk-tuk back to our side of town and went in search of a bar named Sharkey’s. Denny has a friend there, and she wanted me to meet her aunt. Hmm. Well, it was a bar, and there would be cold beer, so why not? Sharkey’s was on Street 110 but way outside the area where other bars are located. We found it after a goodly walk and headed up the stairs.
We hit a couple more bars after Sharkey’s, but I was pretty far gone by that point. Still, I’m impressed with my ability to stay up past midnight on this trip–and it is actually an hour later back home. It will be interesting to see if my body retreats to its non-vacation schedule when I return to the Philippines.
Still, I’m a little out of rhythm, and my timing feels off. But I’m still breathing, so there’s that.
More adventures to come in tomorrow’s post. Stay tuned!
So you’ve got some weird sex-lung connection going, eh? Maybe the universe is trying to tell you something.
He pulled out a crisp new one hundred dollar bill, and I said let me try and use one of my old ones. I gave it to our waitress, and she came back and said the cashier wouldn’t accept it. I said, well, that’s all I’ve got; what do we do now?
Am I understanding this correctly? They rejected 100 dollars because the bill looked too old?? Yikes.
Let me be the first to thank you for and congratulate you on the embarrassing full disclosure re. that happy ending massage. There’s many a debauchee would exclude that from the fine print on account of its comic self abasement. I nearly laughed out loud but please understand it was with the given knowledge that you survived sufficiently to shower by yourself and complete a credit card transaction in a Korean restaurant.
On that, this reader remains a tad puzzled as to why you’d be in such a rare exotic food culture and seek out kimchi….The llace looked spic and span but why not go all in on local peasant food at 5 dollars a mound? Then use the remaining 95 to do wicked things with in Lolita, Honeypot, or Fresh Quim?
Dan, I ain’t in no hurry, but when it’s time to go is there a better way than at the hands of a beautiful young woman?
I always enjoy a good Korean meal, and my friend wanted to go there, so I just followed his lead. I’m going to need to find a way to repay his generosity before I leave, that’s for sure.
Kev, yeah, I’m trying to discern the connection, but I’m guessing it has to do with a “burst” in my heart rate as the deed is completed. The message I’m getting from the universe is, “you are going to die someday anyway; is there a better way to go than this?”
The money thing is frustrating. The dollar is the preferred currency, but businesses are very picky about the cash being undamaged. In the case of the 100-dollar bill, most will only accept the new version, and all of mine are old. So, even though they are in good condition, I’m having a difficult time spending them. I haven’t quit trying, though. Last night at Hard Rock Cafe, they didn’t want to take my old Franklin, and I lied and said it’s all I have. The waitress came back and said we’ll take it but reduce it’s value to $90. I figured that was better than nothing and accepted.
I have had problems with foreign countries accepting “old” US bills, with old meaning either a previous generation or a somewhat used and dirty bill, especially when exchanging money. Rarely do I use USD to pay directly to a merchant.
It is surprising (at least to me) that a pretty significant majority of US bills in circulation are actually in circulation outside of the US. And since counterfeiting is a big deal, I can see the reluctance on the part of a merchant to accept an older style bill. They turn it into the bank, and if it turns out to be fake, they are out $100.
Re: the breathing issue during the “happy ending”. Does this mean that you may retitle your blog to “A Celibate Expat Lives the High Life in the Philippines”?
Yeah, I wondered in counterfeiting might be the issue. Actually, I brought those hundreds with me when I retired as an emergency fund, but a lot of the money exchange places in the PI won’t take them either. I guess I’ll just hold on to them and spend them if and when I return to the USA.
Dollars are the main currency here, although your change usually comes in the Cambodian riel. Doing that conversion has been a pain too.
Re: “A Celibate Expat Lives the High Life in the Philippines”?” No, I’m going to wait until I die to become celibate. Of course, that might mean I’ll die sooner than I’d like, but then again, what a way to go!