Stories from the P.I. trip

1. I was lining up at a money changer inside E-mall in Cebu when I heard a girl's excited voice along with a so familiar laugh a few meters behind me. I turned around to see A being approched and chatted animatedly by someone. I grinned at my cousin, who was waiting for me at the tiny reception area and who also noticed what was happening, amused at A's sudden predicament. The woman next to me also saw the girl's daring move and said to me in what seemed to be a combination of disbelief and mild disgust; "That girl is so desperate to marry a foreigner. We don't know, that man probably has someone here somewhere." The look of sheer amusement on my face probably gave me away.

"Do you know him?," she slowly asked.

"Yeah, he's my husband."

2. We were in Tagbilaran City in Bohol looking at some native accessories on sale. A was in a booth checking some necklaces while I was stuck in another which was selling really nice bracelets. When I went to join him I saw a pair of giggling girls talking to him. Then he said something like "yeah, but you have to ask my wife first," nodding at my direction. The girls looked at me and bolted away as if I was the plague. "What was that about?," I asked. "They wanted to have pictures taken with me," the husband answered, shaking his head in bewilderment.

Shucks, he should have said yes right away and I would have collected a fee. :)

3. The taxi we were in was waiting for the green light to go along MJ Cuenco Avenue in Cebu when a boy of not more than 8 years old tapped A's window. He was carrying a plastic bag of small yellow mangoes and firing away convincingly his prepared marketing speech to A in Cebuano: "Sir, sir, palit mangga, sir. Tam-is kaayo ni ug gagmay ug liso! Singwenta lang ni, sir." (Sir, buy these mangoes, sir. Very sweet and they have small seeds! Just fifty pesos, sir!")

Like any foreigner traveling in PI, my husband has a soft spot for street urchins, especially those who are working by selling something. He turned and asked me to give the boy a hundred pesos.

"Pila gani na, Dong?," I asked. (How much is it, son?)
"Saysenta pesos, maam." (Sixty pesos, maam.) Aww, an immediate mark up.
"Tam-is kaayo ni, maam. Gagmay ug liso. Di jud ka magmahay palit ani, maam uy!" (These are very sweet, maam. With small seeds. You really wont regret buying them, maam!")

I gave him 70 pesos and took the mangoes. Sure enough, they were all so sour.

I have no doubts that kid will be a great politician someday.