Photos et lettres des Philippines, de France et d'ailleurs

After four months spent in France, on September 16 my wife Dhana and I took a flight to Manila via Hong Kong.
I had been taking the Airbus A380 of Singapore Airlines for three years and I went back to Cathay Pacific and its Boeing 777 for budgetary reasons. It is not for nothing that the Singapore Airlines Economy class ranks first in the world and although Cathay Pacific is also very good, it is still a notch below. However, travelling via Hong Kong with Cathay reduces the flight time by three hours on each way and that counts a lot as well.
On the 17, at 11 am, we arrived in Manila and a Dhana's cousin was waiting for us with a vehicle. First, we went into town to change some Euros, although weakened since the last time, and then to meet my sister-in-law Leng who is a Protestant pastor in his new parish of Paranaque located not far from the Manila airport. It was again a shock to witness from the Church on the other side of the river, known derisively as Riverside, the crowded slums and the destitution experienced by a large part of the population. In this mega-metropolis, extravagant luxury rubs shoulders with abject poverty. I did not take pictures because my camera bag was buried with our luggage inside the van.
On September18, we took the afternoon Cebu Pacific flight bound to Dumaguete. There  our friends Cecile and Michel were waiting to drive us to our house where we were welcomed by Nora and her husband Dodong our house keepers, and of course by our two dogs. Zarah our faithful 4 years female and the mischievous Doberman male Gordon who is now 1 year old, and that Dhana had left the previous year as a puppy.
The next day we had to resupply the house and not to derogate habits, my Pajero had a tire almost flat and no more air conditioning. Therefore, before doing the shopping I took care first of my 4x4.
The following morning, I set off to the city of Siaton distant of 25 km to pay my monthly electricity bill. Along the way, I found very odd that about one out of ten times, the brake pedal was completely soft without braking action. With a vehicle more than 2 tones, there was something to worry about. Therefore, upon arriving in Dumaguete I stopped at an auto repair shop around 9:45 am to verify this anomaly. A few moments later the mechanics made me notice that there was almost no more brake fluid due to a leak at the master cylinder. Leak that I had already reported in May to my usual garage and that my mechanic did not bother to repair immediately saying it was almost nothing.
I then asked them if they could fix it me and they answered in the affirmative. They also proposed to change the worn out brake pads. After accepting a quotation of about 50 €, they began the work. At noon, I warned them that I was going for lunch and asked at what time I should go back. The reply was 2 to 3 pm.
At 3 pm I was back and I saw that the hood was still open. I waited patiently until 4:30 and the manager came to tell me that they finally couldn’t repair the master cylinder and it had to be replaced by a new one for 75 €. I had no choice but to agree and it is only around 5:30 that it was all over.
Westerners may find this very unacceptable especially when it comes to something as important as the braking system. Yet here they reasoned as in many poor countries where it is necessary to try everything, ignoring the time, to avoid changing a spare part of 75 €, often much higher than the local monthly salary. The story might have ended there but the next morning Dodong pointed out while washing the 4x4 that splashes of brake fluid had damaged the painting of the hood. In fact, the mechanics had run the engine without putting back the cover of the master cylinder. I went back to the repair shop for complaining but got nothing else but excuses. Locally for about 30 to 40 € damages, It really was not worth to bring a lawsuit against them.
September 22, at 6am, a tricycle was waiting for us at our gate to take us to Sibulan port about 30 km from the house to start a memorable journey.
Indeed, a few months earlier Dhana's sister Leng had informed her that a cousin of them living in Hinundayan, home town of their parents in Southern Leyte, had asked what were their plans regarding the lands from which they were supposed to be still legal heirs.
The three sisters did not know anything about such inheritance and it is to get more information at the roots that we began this grueling journey. Leng would join us from Manila on the 24th. It took thirteen hours to arrive at the destination at 8 pm successively riding a tricycle, boat, bus, taxi, plane, another taxi finally, the icing on the cake, a crowded bus for four hours in which I refused at first to get in until I learned that it was the last before the next day.
Forty years had elapsed since Dhana had last seen this place and her local relatives. Of course the family reunion was extremely moving.

(Forty years later, getting together again)

(The tribute to the deads)

(Pilgrimage in the mountain)

I thought I knew a little about the Philippines but I had never seen yet a city where there was nothing else to eat in small restaurants but pork rind or chicken bones without even a cold beer to savor.
As of the stories of legacies, my wife and her sisters are indeed heirs of their father in Leyte but also of their father and their mother in Mindoro Oriental. However, until everything is settled, it will take time, raise mortgages and also negotiate or even prosecute those who unduly appropriated some of their properties. It is so complicated that I will one day write a special article on the subject.
It was on September 26 at 6:00 am that Dhana, Leng and I took the bus from Hinudayan to Hilongos for a four hours ride. Then we spent six hours in a boat to Cebu and then again five hours in another boat from Cebu to Dumaguete where we arrived at 0:15 am.

(The return trip by boat to Dumaguete)

Then we still had to find a tricycle to cover the 24 kilometers to the house and it is only at 1:30 am that I could drink a cold beer at home. The return journey had lasted almost twenty hours and we were all exhausted.
If ever there is a next time it would be better to take the return flight from Manila to Tacloban and from there ride a van for three hours to get to Hinundayan.
I was sometimes during my career accused of misogyny and I think it was unjustified. During our three days in Leyte, I could still see that most players were women when it came to serious business like inherited land, properties, legal papers etc. It just seems that men left the responsibility of family affairs to their wives, sisters, aunts, cousins ​​etc...
I may have written it before, but under cover of a macho society for the sake of appearances, it is a matriarchy, which governs the Philippines, and it is not for nothing that the country has already had two women as presidents.