I dreamt of nothing on the plane. I felt nothing when I awoke. I was in the Phillipines, and did not bother to hope, expect, or think. It was raining just the way I liked it.
The plan was to put up in Manila for the night, and fly south to Davao the next day. I was quiet on the bus ride, snapping pictures. The large city of Manila looked bleak and soulless, reminding me of Los Angeles in an offbeat way. I noticed how entrepreneurial the Phillipinos can get – some dudes waded through the traffic jams, selling stuff. Their suicidal hardsell almost sold me a feather duster.
Our accomodation was fancy, kinda snow white and the seven dwarves. I was over-friendly and quite annoying at the dinner table where I first met my friends for the next 11 days.
Some of us left the dinner to go to a large mall, which was closed when we arrived. Strolling 2km through a huge, closed, mall took window shopping to the next level. There was a church in the mall.
We took a cab back to the Villas, and I sat next to a demure Indonesian girl named Renny.
Renny: “You play musical instruments?”
Khailee: “Yeah, guitar and drums. How did you know?”
Renny: “I could tell by your look.”
Khailee: “How about you?”
Renny: “A trumpet. When I was younger.”
Khailee: “You must be pretty good at at blowing then. Blowing instuments.”
Khailee: “I can tell by your look.”
I was never too good at first impressions. Back at the hotel I pieced 4 chords to what may be a song to sing along to someday else. I slept well that night.