Manila, Philippines, July 2018

“It’s more fun in the Philippines!” – this is actually a tourism slogan well thought out. Surely there is a range of reasons why you could have fun here, including beaches, crystal clear waters and the like. I didn’t have time to explore all this, sadly, as I came for just (4!) days through a work trip. But I did get to experience what must be one of the main reasons why this country is enjoyable: the Filipinos.

Well-known for their friendliness and kind-hearted nature, they make you feel good about being here. Like Joel, my Grab (the Philippines version of Uber) driver, who shows me in passing the “best place to see the sunset of the sun”, tells me that this is his full-time job, and when I ask whether he enjoys this work, he says “Yes, I enjoy it. Like right now, I enjoy talking to you.”.

Or like Ellen, who flies in as my guardian angel, after I had been roaming through the old town of Manila, Intramuros. Trying to get back to my hotel had proven more challenging than I had expected. For about an hour already, I had been trying to get a taxi, but they were all either full or refusing to take me to my hotel on the other side of town, as it is rush hour and Manila is notorious for traffic jams. The taxi drivers prefer to get several shorter rides rather than one long one during which they end up being stuck in the jam forever. Slightly exasperated, as well as exhausted from the humid heat and the fumes, I ask a security guard in front of one of Intramuros’ colonial buildings whether he can help me hail a taxi. He proves to be no more successful than I was on my own. Enter Ellen: She sees my peril, decidedly insists on taking me to a Starbuck’s down the road, ignoring all my objections. Even Grab drivers are difficult to get during rush hour, but Ellen keeps on re-sending the request to the app on her phone and stays with me until a car finally pulls up in front of the coffee shop 45 minutes later.

 

Another Filipino trait: Resilience. The Manila Cathedral was rebuilt 8 (!) times.

A day before, during the workshop for which I am here, I had learned what “it’s more fun in the Philippines” also means: three young women who work for the organization that hosts the meeting perform a karaoke song (“Colours of the wind” from the Disney Pocahontas movie – since we are in a meeting on nature conservation!) to motivate the delegates (government representatives from 7 countries, by the way…not boy scouts) during the final stages of a group exercise. Wouldn’t happen in this way in Switzerland, I dare say…

It’s not all fun and games in the Philippines. I get a glimpse of that as well, even without visiting army prisons, remote rural areas, or the red light district. Another driver, this time I am on the way from the hotel to the airport. He asks where I am from, then tells me that he almost went to Switzerland last year: One of his high school class mates works in Zurich, and had invited the whole class to come for a week. He committed to provide for all expenses. Eight of them went, but not my driver. “Why not?”. “Because I had to work.”. He tells me that the hotel doesn’t give him any vacation to recover from his 12 to 15 hour working days, apart from 1 day off each week. So he missed the opportunity to visit Europe. I ask him what he likes about his job, remembering my conversation with Joel. He says “I get to see so many places all the time. I could not sit in an office all day long.” He didn’t see Switzerland, but he contents himself with seeing the different neighborhoods of Manila.

Tel Aviv / Jerusalem, Israel, April 2018

M. says, Tel Aviv and Jerusalem have nothing in common apart from the language, and that is our impression as well.

Tel Aviv is a thousand pubs, coffee shops, bars, cafés in the middle of the road, breakfast places, ice cream parlors, hummus stalls and so on. Jerusalem is a labyrinth of old town alleys to get lost in and suddenly find yourself inadvertently having crossed from, say, the Moslem into the Armenian quarter, with cave-like shops selling tourist souvenirs, clothes, art, jewellery and religious artifacts.

Tel Aviv is young, fit and good-looking - muscular shirtless guys show off their beach bodies in open air gyms. Jerusalem is orthodox Jews in traditional black robe and with side earlocks, some with heavy fur hats, accompanied by women in skirts and dresses (never pants) often wearing wigs (showing your natural hair is not allowed).

Tel Aviv is dogs, dogs, dogs.
Jerusalem is a Jewish soldier guarding a mosque, a Muslim woman cleaning the toilets in a church.

Tel Aviv is laid-back and open-minded, and the best place for LGBT people in the Middle East.
Jerusalem is charged and intense - you can feel some sort of sizzling in the air, and every taxi driver (they are usually Palestinian) will tell you unasked about his frustrations with the Jews and the state - how the Arabic writing above one of the old town gates supposedly was replaced by a Star of David overnight. How formerly Palestinian neighborhoods have turned Jewish and the former occupants were forcibly removed from their houses. Having come too close to the entrance of Al Aksa Mosque, we are being told off in a rather hostile manner. Driving through the streets at night, we see a large gathering of religious Jews in what looks like a riot or a demonstration, with lots of police, military and burning trash cans. When we mention it back at the hotel, the receptionist merely shrugs and informs us that "there is always someone protesting in Jerusalem".

Tel Aviv has no history to speak of, the whole city is barely a hundred years old and sports an eclectic mix of architectural styles, from Bauhaus over Jugendstil to the glass facades of modern skyscrapers.
Jerusalem has more history than most other places on Earth, with some of the most significant places, buildings and structures of three world religions being within walking distance of one another. Standing next to the tomb of Mary,  or the place where Jesus preached to his followers on the Mount of Olives, it is hard to believe that this is the same soil they would have stood on, the same view they would have had.

Bangkok, Thailand, March 2018

The Grand Palace, Bangkok

Nairobi, Kenya, January 2018

How safe is Nairobi? Well, there are certainly more security measures in place than I’ve seen in any other city so far. Judging from that, we should be able to feel very safe. Highway traffic is surveyed 24 hours by CCTV, heavily armed guards are seen everywhere, be it at the entrance of official or even private buildings, shops or inside malls.

Security procedures for getting inside the UN compound are seemingly being tightened on an almost weekly basis, resulting in me not being able to access the premises: even though I had been registered as a visitor the day before, consequently did appear on the respective list which the guard at the gate had in front of her, had my passport on me, passed the bag scan, and was granted a day access pass, we still hadn’t done everything right. My host was not aware that she’d have to pick me up at the entrance, as any visitor now needs to be accompanied by a staff member. I went back to my hotel without having achieved anything.

Our colleague tells us that, when a UN staff is interested in buying or renting a house, it needs to be inspected and signed off to ensure it meets the UN's security requirements. This includes among others a day guard and two night guards (or 1 guard and a dog at night); an electric fence surrounding the property; alarms and sufficient lighting around the house at night. His lovely property doesn’t give the impression of such a fortress – he explains us that the electric fence is well hidden just behind the dense hedges. “We like to pretend it’s not there.”

The terrible incident of the shooting in a shopping mall, resulting in 67 deaths in 2013, still rings in everyone’s ears. During the elections at the end of last year, there was real fear of a massive outbreak of violence, which fortunately didn’t occur. Still Maina, the driver, says that things are being exaggerated, and any white person can walk around any part of Nairobi during the day without needing to be afraid. 

He might be right, or not. At the end of the day, though, Nairobi (or at least the very few parts I’ve seen of it) has surprised me very pleasantly, especially because the city is incredibly green, last but not least thanks to the wonderful Nairobi National Park. It’s worth a visit, and in any case, the only zero risk option is not ever leaving your bedroom.

Margao-Mumbai, India, January 2018

Ta-tang




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Ta-tang

Ta-tang

Ta-tang


The train  is getting faster, and the sound of the wheels on the tracks repeats more frequently.

They say you haven't really traveled in India if you haven't traveled by train - with the night train probably being the gold standard.

We were told that trains to and from Delhi are currently delayed by up to 12 hours due to the capital's notorious winter fog. But here in Goa, there is no fog. No excuse nor explanation is offered for what ends up being a 4 hour delay. We take it lightly, and utilize the time for exploring the charming town of Margao, sipping freshly pressed fruit juice and shopping for the paper Christmas stars that still decorate almost every house in Goa, until they will be retired on Three King's Day, 6th January.

The platform is filled with suit cases, bags, backpacks, children, elderly people, foreigners and Indians, people sitting on the floor eating, reading the newspaper or even working on their laptop, as the Bombay Express creeps into the station, carriage after carriage passing until the train finally comes to a full stop.

In second class A/C (air condition), you travel quite comfortably, with 2 levels of bunk beds on top of each other, 4 beds in one compartment, separated from the corridor just by a curtain rather than a door. Even the toilets (western style or Indian style, i.e. hole in the floor, available at opposite ends of the carriage, respectively), are very much bearable, at least at the beginning of the journey.

We put the sheets on our beds, switch of the light and lie down.

In the morning hours, I wake up from restless sleep by the cries of the chai-wallah coming through - "Chai chai chai, samose, chai". The train is slowing down, we pass the first few stations that are already part of the city, until we enter the main station and final destination - Mumbai, City of Seven Islands.