procrastination

Went to Maynila today to attempt to extend my visa. Quick backstory: anyone who visits the Philippines from another nation can stay for 21 days. After the 21 days, you have to pay about 4000 pesos (about 90 US dollars) to extend for a standard 38 days. When I arrived in Maynila on June 14, 2008, the airport officer who was stamp my passport was too incompetent to change the stamp from June 14, to June 04, so my 21 days was cut to 11 in less than a second. I of course didn't realize this until I went to immigration to extend my visa. When I got there (about a month ago) I paid the stupid extension fee but was told that if I had had a Philippine passport I would not have to pay at all. Since I used to live in Pasay (from about 1982-1986) and used to have dual citizenship, I emailed my mother to see if she had any proof. Luckily she did and emailed me the letter, stating that I was to be considered a "Filipino" while in the Philippines. Fast forward to today at the immigration madhouse building in Intramuros (the legendary part of Maynila that Rizal made famous). I get in line, fill out the form, and prepare myself to shell out another 4000 pesos to extend my stay another 38 days. I bring the letter thinking it's worth a try. The agent looks at it and asks why I paid the extension last time. I said I didn't have the letter last time. He said "okay" and returned the letter back to me. I said "ok" back and asked what he meant by "ok". He then told me, I'm a Filipino while in the Philippines and just to show the letter when I get to the airport. I was then hit by a strange mixture of happiness, acceptance, anxiety, and annoyance. Happiness due to not having to pay. Feelings of acceptance by this nation (ah an imagined acceptance?). Anxiety, thinking about how many times I have to show this letter and explain about it at the airport in about 30 days. And annoyance that he couldn't just enter into the computer that I was exempt and should be considered a citizen. In any case, I ended up going to SM maynila since my colleagues who did have to pay had to wait around for their passports later in the afternoon.

While there I caved in and received my first haircut in the Philippines at the local Ricky Reyes (henceforth to be known as "the Reyes"). I had heard many things about haircuts here--free hairwash, having your face shaved, less than 5 dollars, and a back/neck massage to boot! --and they were surprisingly all true! Unfortunately my friend next to me got bamboozled into getting some sort of hair stimulant/relaxing treatment and hence I got suckered in as well. Overall the whole experience took over an hour, most of which was me squirming uncomfortably in my seat while getting a backrub. I honestly thought I was prepared, but it was strange. Earlier in the week I also caved into peer pressure and got my first full body massage/facial! Even the the person who gave me a facial gave me a massage afterward. Interestingly enough, it seems like every "beauty" service includes a massage, I won't be surprised that in the future that with every fill-up at the gas station, the "gasoline boy" (that's what they call attendants here) will work out the knots in your lower back. Finally since there isn't a mirror in my dorm room (probably afraid the students will never go to class, I swear, since coming to DLSU-Dasma I have never in my life seen so many boys/men primping their hair and spending hours in front of the restroom mirror) I went ahead and asked for a shave at "the Reyes". The stylist took a long time on it with his little razor blade, and while I was sitting there I wondered if he usually did this and whether I had made a bad decision. After what seemed like an eternity, I finally got to sit down and see the final product. I was horrified. The reason it took him so long was that he had shaped my sideburns to all the way down to my chin! In fact, it looked like something one of the backstreet boys would have sported back in '96. Yet, I had a dilemma. I felt guilty asking him to shave it off since he seemed to spend so much time on it, yet this feeling of guilt was quickly subsumed by my liberal sense of self and entitlement. I paid for it, I should get I what I want right? Anyway, I ended up asking for him to cut it off which did without reaction and I was soon off on my merry way. Although I ended up getting about a pound of aquanet on my head before heading out. Below are some pictures of my new (too?) short do, after I had washed out the layers of crusted hairspray and Maynila particles.