What's this about?

Ladies and gents our story begins with our author who one day packed up his bags to spend the next 5 years of his life on some tropical island far far away. This land is not like any place he has ever been to before. There is no telling of what he may encounter during his stay there but one thing is sure he is going to be in for one crazy adventure. And this is where you get to read about it.

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Readers beware!

The stories told here maybe appear larger than in real life and at times may even appear outlandish. However, all actual events are in fact real (well, most of them). What may appear as a distortion of reality to some may only be due to the author's perspective of the actual events. Some say he is just not right in the head.

Monday, November 21, 2005

Why I need to learn the dialect

Crossing the street out here is always an adventure. It's kind of like playing that old game Frogger where you're a frog and you have to hop back and forth to avoid getting run over but in real life. However, when a car hits you here you can't simply stick in another quarter. It's game over.

It was rush hour so the street was packed with cars none of which were moving really fast. However, no one was caring to stop for the pedestrians at the crosswalk. Then again it's not like a crosswalk really means all that much to Filipino drivers other than a section were someone decided to paint a bunch white lines on the road. So, as I attempted to cross the road I had to be wary. I let a jeepni pass me by and then a tricycle. After the tricycle I saw an opening and attempted to cross. I am sure the man in the sedan coming up clearly saw me. In fact if he didn't swerve his car in between me and the other cars in the opposite lane just to get through he would have run me over. Still, I would say he ended up being no more than two inches away from running over my feet. I ended up planting my palm on his windshield and then on his trunk as he squeezed on by. Not really hard, more like if I were shuffling cloths along on a rack. As I was walking away not thinking too much of it because I understood that courtesy is a trait in which the drivers here completely lack, he began yelling at me in the local dialect. Unfortunately for me and maybe fortunately for him I couldn't understand. I paused looking back for a second and then proceeded on walking as he yelled through his rolled down window.

It's hard to get really mad if you can't understand what is being said to you. You just can't gage how you should retort. Did what he say only qualify a laugh in return? Judging from the look on his face I think not. So, maybe a show of the bird in the return would have been fine. Or an attempt to yell back in some foul language. Or maybe even an attempt at pulling him out his car by his neck. I had no clue of what I should do exactly other than just to look at him as if he were a baby babbling something I couldn't understand. Well, it's just another reason why I really need to learn the language and fast. I mean how else am I going to justify punching someone in the face?


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