Invisible Bikini

Since I had a day off from work today, I went out to pamper myself a bit. After getting my nails done, I decided to stay a while in Starbucks and spend some quiet time. I was looking for something to read while sipping my white chocolate mocha and I saw this copy of Travelife magazine lying on the chair behind me. I picked it up and started browsing and came across this article entitled “Into the Heart of a City”, with a picture of people waiting to get into an MRT coach. As I was reading the first few paragraphs, it reminded me of myself late last year when I came back from the province after staying there for a few months.

Here’s an excerpt from the article by Gabby Malvar:

“Manila is not easy to like. Even those who swear by it cannot claim love at first sight. It doesn’t put its best foot forward, doing itself no favors. It tends to disappoint from the first handshake, and impressions - formed as early as when visitors step into an inferior airport or see shanties lining the streets to their accommodations - are difficult to overcome. The odds are stacked against it, and there’s little chance of courting affection. 

Observers point out the lack of landmarks - a Forbidden City, a Tower of London or a Merlion, if you will - that encapsulate what it is. But Manila is not typified by monuments. More than just an anthology of sights, it begs to be experienced. To understand its complexities, one must get around, not stay confined in one sector like Intramuros. Its story lies throughout the breadth of the capital, across different municipalities and districts. The city reveals itself only to those who put in time and effort. And those who have are pleasantly surprised.

Beyond the coarse exterior, it’s genuinely warm and engaging.

And when the city loses itself in its throbbing pulse, it begins to dance. It is complex, a bedlam of pirouettes, dips and struts - pedestrians waltz across the streets with total disregard for safety and consideration, self-obsessed models swagger the entire extent of ramps, cars and motorbikes fly at intersections long after the traffic light’s red eye has stared down vehicles to a halt, an aspiring cager glides to the basket’s rim in a makeshift backstreet court. Manila is both dancer and percussionist.

Chaos is this city’s signature. Contrived and boring? Definitely not. The pulsating din is the sound of the city accommodating its diversity. Always threatening to but never bursting at the seams, it contends with 11 million aspirations trying to establish individual marks. It can never be anything else. To comprehend it is to embrace its uniqueness, not compartmentalize it in comprehensible concepts and headings. Only then will Manila make sense. The worst disservice is to view it with cookie-cutter eyes and expect a Singapore, a Kyoto or a Kuala Lumpur.

This is how you get to know a city: to drown in the abundance of idiosyncrasies, to embrace the bad along with the good. It is not enough to admire her best features. One must take everything else: skinny legs, warts and all. Then maybe you begin to love it.” 

This just gave me an idea. :)