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Memoirs of a Philippine Mongerer

Settling into provincial life..

Being raised in a comparatively affluent society in Australia I was a complete stranger to the sport of cock fighting but Rosies father’s enthusiasm was infectious and next thing I knew I found myself being dragged towards a circle of Filipino men all shouting and gesticulating wildly while they watched two cocks fight. Rosies father dragged me into the middle of the group and stood beside me while the guys around me were all shouting and cheering on the cock they had bet on.

The rules of the cock fight were totally beyond me and it seemed to me that just as the animals were engaging in the fight properly the owners would pull them apart and people would start betting again. For me I would have rather of seen the rounds last a prescribed amount of time with the winner being whichever cock wounds or kills the other but that didn’t seem to be the case here. I figured that even if the cock lost it was probably still a valuable possession in this community so better to preserve it’s life so it can fight again another day or be used for a variety of other purposes. For the Filipino man a rooster is money on legs and is serious business.

The fight which we had enetered half way through soon came to an end and the guys would sit around and chat discussing the fight they had just seen and the problems of their little world. Usually this discussion would be accompanied by a plastic cup with ice and a large bottle of beer. The beer is then poured into the plastic cup and swallowed in turn. Normally one guy will take a couple of gulps then the glass is passed back to whomever has the beer bottle where it is refilled and then passed onto the next guy to gulp down.

Rosies father grabbed me by the wrist and led me to the group of guys drinking then as they looked up and comprehension that a foreigner was in their midst slowly dawned on them, they each adopted a big smile and moved around so as to make room for Rosies dad and myself to sit down and join the party. Next thing I knew another two bottles of beer appeared and the plastic cup with ice was making the rounds again. I am not particularly fond of beer at the best of times but when it is being passed around a group of men inside a plastic cup with ice it was not exactly thrilling especially since it seemed they wanted me to have every second gulp almost like they thought it amusing to try and get the foreigner drunk. To be honest this situation was a little unnerving because they insisted on touching me all the time and then they would say something in their own language which caused ripples of laughter amongst the group and the fact that I could not understand them obviously made me uncomfortable which in turn increased their mirth even more.

After about ten minutes of sitting around in the group being forced to gulp down lukewarm beer, the next cock fight was announced and the group slowly dispersed heading towards the fight. Rosie’s father grabbed my hand once again and said, “we look fight now”. With this he yanked me up and once again we joined the throng of men and kids gathered around the cocks. The cock fights which I was truly grateful for because it took the guys attention off me. The two combatants would be held by their owner while a Filipino guy would circulate the crowd with notes rolled up inbetween his fingers and in his hand was a scraggly piece of paper on which he would write down something unintelligible. It didn’t take much to figure out that this was the equivilent to the bookie but I had no idea how his betting system worked.

Throughout the entire evening Rosies father was acting as if he was Mr Important or as my father would always say, “acting like lord muck”. Looking back on it I realize that he had gained some sort of elevated status, albeit only temporary, by bringing the foreigner and therefore the money into their midst. But at the time I was just feeling bemused wondering what all the fuss was about.

The cock fights lasted for about 3 hours and inbetween each fight I would be pulled over to the group and encouraged to drink beer. Each time it seemed like it was Martin taking on the whole group but this didn’t really bother me since I figured this was some kind of initiation test and if outdrinking a bunch of locals was what was required to gain acceptance then so be it.

After the cock fights we were all pretty drunk and I can vaguely remember Bob and myself being led back to Rosies house where we found two small foam mattresses placed on the floor which we unceremoniously plonked ourselves upon and crashed out, completely oblivious of our surroundings.
These days with a few more years under my belt I definitely need my creature comforts but back then sleeping on the floor was no big hassle, especially when I had a head full of booze. I remember making it to the mattress finding the lumpy pillow and then darkness descended. I think the fact that we had been traveling for nearly two days with what amounted to only a few hours proper sleep, contributed to our ability to sleep in the primitive conditions.

Even though I was dead tired I still only managed to get 5 or 6 hours sleep and as the sun came streaming into the hut I awoke to the sound of mosquitoes buzzing in my ear and seemingly a thousand mosquito bites all down my legs, arms and neck. My head was throbbing, I was sweating like a race horse before a piss test, there was a crick in my neck from sleeping on the hard floor with the lumpy pillow and the roosters were crowing their lungs out welcoming the two foreigners. Basically I felt like absolute shit, I looked over at Bob who was still sleeping soundly then at the remainder of the room only to be greeted by a number of bodies all lying on the floor . I took one more look at my situation and soon it was obvious that I wasn’t going anywhere and my only option was to simply lye there and wait for people to wake up before going anywhere or doing anything.

I lay on the floor for what I figured must have been an hour or so willing myself to go back to sleep but without a fan and a softer mattress this was almost impossible and I found myself just lying there sweating. As readers can imagine this was hardly an ideal start to my provincial adventure but there was no denying this was reality. This was exactly how the vast majority of people lived and this was an authentic province experience warts, mosquitoes, bed bugs and all.

I think I must have lain there for about an hour and a half desperately trying to will myself to sleep but to no avail. Under these conditions and with a throbbing head, sleep was just about impossible. Eventually I saw Rosies mother who was lying in the far corner begin to stir and then slowly but surely the rest of the family woke up to face a new day in provincial life. The family had now all roused so I shook Bob who slowly woke up and then loudly announced “ shit Marty watcha doing waking me up mate, I was having a rip snorter dream and now it’s fucking gone”. I apologized profusely for waking him and then pointed out to him our surroundings and said in hushed tones, “don’t know about you mate but I can’t get much sleep in these conditions with all these people so I am going to ask Rosie about some other place to stay”. Bob looked around him and responded with “yeah good on ya mate. See if we can stay somewhere else with a bit more room. Oh by the way did you see Rosies cousin last night, wouldn’t mind having a crack at that”. Despite feeling like death warmed up I couldn’t help but smile at “koripot Bobs continuing addiction to the Filipina no matter where he was or what conditions he was enduring. This man was fanatical and certainly knew what he wanted from his time in the Philippines.

After my conversation with Bob Rosie appeared through the minute entrance that passed as a front door and said Rosie mother make breakfast, you like now?” I looked at Bob he looked at me then just as I was about to ask what we were going to eat I thought better of it and replied yeah sure I am hungry. With this said Rosie left again then came back with a plate piled full of steaming rice some canned sardines and two fried eggs. Not really being in a position to complain and certainly not wanting to be seen as ungrateful, Bob and myself made our way to the kitchen table where there were three tiny seats and tucked into the specially prepared breakfast. While we were eating a mass of kids appeared at the small window and proceeded to stare at us like we were aliens from another planet. I don’t know how many readers have experienced numerous kids gawking at you and giggling while you are trying to eat, but let me tell you, it is a little unnerving to say the least and both Bob and myself had a hard time eating our breakfast.

What goes in must come out and after breakfast both Bob and myself needed to evacuate our bowels but the problem was there was no toilet to be seen so I had to ask Rosie who laughed and said “follow me”. Rosie led us round the back of her little house and there in the backyard was a tiny little hut with a nippa roof . Bob and I looked at each other in disbelief but then simultaneously realized that we didn’t have many options and it was this shit house or out in the street with everybody viewing.

After performing our ablutions I asked Rosie if I could have a little word with her in private and she led me back into the house. When we were alone in the house I started by thanking her very much for putting myself and Bob up but there was a problem because we felt we were intruding on her family and I was wondering if there was any place where Bob and I could stay that was slightly separate from her family and which didn’t have so many people in it and we wouldn’t be so much in the way. After I had finished asking Rosie as nicely as possible trying to disguise my desire to find some place a little more comfortable she just looked at me with a mixture of sadness and anger then all of a sudden tears welled in her eyes and she rushed out the front door straight towards her father who was standing outside, saw his daughter crying, spoke to her in a concerned tone, then proceeded to walk towards me purposefully with the razor sharp bolo swinging on his belt. .

Memoirs of a Philippine Mongerer

Welcome to the probince Mr poreigner.

The trike ride to Rosies village wasn’t nearly as bad as I had been expecting. These trikes were large with enough room to slightly stretch ones legs and since Bob and I both got separate ones and our luggage was on the trike roof there was even room to look out and appreciate the rural countryside. We drove for about forty minutes along a flat meandering coastal road which intertwined with rice paddies, coconut plantations and rustic villages. We passed through a series of villages with what basic housing and verging on subsistence living. Yet despite the poor conditions and the obvious lack of income the residents seemed happy and every village we passed through the word soon went out and we were greeted by a throng of smiling waving kids. In every village there would be a village center and here the kids would stand outside the little hollow block huts with thatched roofs and either gawk in wide eyed amazement at this strange apparition of ghostly white men or burst out in missing teeth smiles.

Since the Vietnam war we in Western countries have been bombarded with images of snotty nosed, brown skinned kids dressed in rags with semi vacant yet somehow curious looks in their eyes. This was certainly the case here except with one big difference, the children here embraced life no matter how hard it was and no matter how squalid their existence. The kids in the Philippines have for me always been magic and despite their harsh living conditions have always managed a smile and exhibited a joyful enthusiasm for life no matter what it brings.

Being the center of attention believe it or not is not something that I relish however trundling through the small villages being chased by a crowd of screaming and cheering kids was kind of fun. I am not sure if they had ever seen a white man before but then again the reason for this reception didn’t really matter, it was just nice to be so popular and receive such a warm welcome. I had experienced something like this traveling to the remote islands of the Maldives archipelago but here in the Philippines the kids were ten times the number and the Philippine kids were a lot more vocal in their welcoming cries than the Maldivian kids.

After traveling through five or six coastal villages and some lush green coastal farm land we finally made it to Rosies village. I cannot remember exactly what my expectations were but I do remember being pleasantly surprised at the condition and location of her village. Unlike the others her village did not depend on the main road passing through the center but more importantly it depended on the fishing boats that dotted the shore line. I think the fact that Rosies village was right on the water front differentiated it from the other places we had traveled through. For some r5eason I have always found myself more comfortable when near the water which is only fitting when you consider my star sign is Aquarius.

Rosises village is best described as quaint in a rustic sort of Filipino way. It was situated right on the shore line and a gentle breeze blew of the ocean 24 7. This breeze was always accompanied by the smell of sun dried fish, dried squid or just salt water but no matter what the accompanying aromas I was more than grateful for its presence. All along the shoreline there were houses which were little more than glorified nippa huts and outside each house would be the Filipina wife washing clothes by hand using a plastic bowl and running around the house would be a tribe of snotty nosed kids playing the Filipino version of catch me if you can. Behind the shoreline the village spread out on the grey sand reaching towards a large jungle covered hill in the distance. Basically the village was composed of a series of huts some of which were sari-sari stores others communal meeting places and the majority being simple housing for the villages inhabitants.

The houses here were rustic to say the least. The average house was a simple 10 meters by ten meters single room abode with a lattice floor. The houses were mostly elevated 2 or 3 feet above the ground. Most houses would have a wall around them and the toilet and bathing area were behind the house in the back yard. There were no taps and the water was carried each day from the deep wells in buckets. Whilst staying here I would often accompany Rosies brothers to the well and help carry back the water to the house and I have to admit it was an arduous job which worked up a good sweat in a mater of seconds. Rosies brother and I had only rudimentary communication at best and yet to this day I still feel as if we had some kind of bond that developed through our physical exertion together.

When we finally arrived at Rosies village Bob and I exited our trikes grabbed our bags then just stood there taking it all in. Rosie took care of paying the trikes which I think cost a whole 10 piso each (a far cry from the extortionist bastards in Angeles) and then joined at us just looking at the village taking it all in. I asked Rosie, “how long has it been since you were last home and in reply she gave me one of her rare tantalizing smiles and softly said “a long time honey”. As we stood there in what seemed to be the equivalent of the community square we were once again surrounded by a throng of half dressed snotty nosed kids with some running around gesticulating wildly as they pointed at us and described to their elders these strange, rather large white men, that had suddenly appeared in their village. Other kids just stood and gaped at us not saying a word whilst others simply hid behind their mothers skirts occasionally risking a sly peak at this scary apparition of large foreign men.

We stood in the village square for what seemed like ages when Rosies cousin who had disappeared unnoticed by Bob and myself suddenly reappeared parting the crowd of spectators that had surrounded us and leading behind him a middle aged Filipino couple. The lady bore a striking resemblance to Rosie but an older version and it was clearly obvious that in her younger days she would have been a real looker. Despite the ravages of child birth and provincial life this lady still maintained a very fit body and she still had that Chinese skin color and Chinese eyes that I found so attractive in Rosie. Rosies mother held herself with a certain grace and calm serenity which when I observed I couldn’t help but ask myself I wonder why Rosie never inherited this aspect of her mothers demeanor. Just as I was pondering this I then noticed Rosie’s father standing beside his wife and my question was answered straight away. Rosie’s father was fairly tall for a provincial Filipino standing about 5 foot 10”, he had a dark leathery complexion from having tolled long hours in the sun whilst fishing for a living and he had a bristling moustache which he jutted out along with his upper lip as he looked at us with a mixture of inquisitiveness and hostility.

As my eyes met those of Rosie’s father I sensed a sort of smoldering resentment but I figured I hadn’t come this far to back down now so I simply dropped my bag on the sand, walked over to Rosie’s father and still looking him in the eyes said, “hello sir my name is Martin it’s nice to meet you”. Rosies father looked me straight in the eyes but ignored my outstretched hand and then I looked down to see that he was carrying a bloody great machete(bolo) in his right hand hence the lack of a hand shake. Right then and there I made a mental note to myself that if I survived this encounter in the future before rushing into a situation I would try to be a little more observant first.

The tension between us was almost palatable and the air between us could have been cut with one swipe of that razor sharp machete but just then I felt Rosie slip her hand on my arm and with a sweet little girls voice she said something to her father in Visayan and the mans face suddenly transformed from a scowl to a big cheesy grin and with great gusto he transferred the machete to his other hand and shook my hand with his. Later on I was to wonder what Rosie had told her father but that’s a story for another time.

With his arm around me Rosie’s father led us through the little village all the time smiling and waving to the people who would come out of their houses to catch a glimpse of this strange procession. Somehow I felt like I was on display and scenes of a pig being led to the slaughter house kept on entering my mind. I looked behind to see Bob and the remainder of Rosie’s family following dutifully and I thought to myself well at least I am not alone if any trouble comes my way. After about ten minutes walking we reached a little house just like every other house in the village and Rosie’s father loosened his grip around my shoulder and said with obvious pride, “my house inside we drink now”.

Rosies house was a small one room affair with a lattice floor and only one small window. In one corner there was a small table with four cane chairs and in the other corner was a thin foam mattress which was obviously where Rosie’s family slept. Upon seeing this I was momentarily panicked and I asked Rosie, hey sweetie where are Bob and I supposed to sleep and she replied you and Bob have mattress we bring from my sisters house no problem”. Okay so this wasn’t exactly luxury accommodation but I figured what the heck why not rough it a little bit because after all this was the province and this was the genuine provincial experience that I had set out to experience in the first place.

Bob and I dumped our bags by the solitary mattress and the Rosie said, “you give papa money because he go buy food and drink”. Upon hearing this I dug through my pocket and came up with 5 hundred piso which he quickly grabbed and scurried away to purchase supplies. Bob and myself sat at the small table while Rosie instructed some young relative to go and buy some Cokes for Bob and myself and of course some ice so we could drink them cold. We sat around the table slowly sipping on the cokes for about 1 hour with a constant stream of kids appearing at the doorway and gawking at us. Some were a little braver than others and would touch us then run away giggling, but overall we didn’t really mind being a spectacle as we figured they would soon get used to us and then we would just be another part of day to day life in this little fishing village.

After a while Rosies father reappeared and presented Rosie and her mother with what looked like chicken and fish then once again he put his arm around me and tried to steer me out of the door. I looked at Rosie inquiringly and she then explained that her father wanted to take me and Bob to the cock fights where we could do some gambling. I asked her how much money I should take and received the answer, “up to you”. Thinking to myself well that’s bloody useful I grabbed another 500 piso note and off I headed to my very first Filipino cock fight.

Memoirs of a Philippine Mongerer

The journey that never ends.

So there we were in backward down town Masbate, the town that time literally forgot, sitting on top of a jeepney full of Filipinos who between them couldn’t speak more than five words of English, about to venture into the wilds of Masbate in search of a village I had no idea the name of let alone the location. I looked at Bob to see any discernible reaction but if he was at all worried he sure hid it well. Etched on his face was the same easy going laconic smile and when he saw me looking a little perturbed, he broke into an even bigger smile and said, “don’t let it worry you mate, there’s no going back now and we may as well enjoy the adventure”. Bob was a man of few words but what words he did say were normally pretty spot on the money and a newbie such as myself felt compelled to listen.

After they had packed the Filipinos into the jeepney like sardines the driver switched on the ignition and with a belch of black diesel fumes the jeepney came to life and started rolling down the road heading towards a distant jungle covered hill. At this stage I was still wondering what I had gotten myself into when all of a sudden the jeepney gave a large jump and I looked down to see we were now traveling on a dirt road. I think the paved road must have lasted for all of ten minutes and with each bone jarring bump I had the sneaking suspicion this trip was going to be one not soon forgotten.

We had been trundling along for about an hour when I noticed the landscape beginning to change. At first it had been classic lowlands provincial Philippines with rice fields and little mud huts with thatched roofs but now this was giving way to a more rugged landscape dominated by lush jungle like vegetation and large protruding hills. I remember looking at Bob and asking, “you didn’t happen to bring a camera did you mate“? And he replied, “no mate couldn’t be bothered, that’s just one less thing for the flips to steal”.

After about two hours travel we came to the bottom of one particularly large hill and here the jeepney decided to stop. I was wondering why the stop and was about to ask Rosie but then my question was answered as all the male Filipinos disembarked on one side of the jeepney and the females on the other. This was like a bulk piss stop but there were no public toilets here and it was a case of choosing your area and then doing your business. I was kind of amused perched on top of the jeepney watching this piss procession until the driver and his right hand man started shouting something at me and I had no idea what they were talking about. I looked around for Rosie but she had joined the group of females having a piss so I was left to my own devices to try and decipher whatever it was they were shouting about. The drivers assistant kept on shouting and gesticulating for me to come down from the roof so I looked at Bob and said, I wonder what this bastard wants”. Listen mate do me a favor if they give me a hard time get your ass down there and help out”. Bob just looked at me with his usual laconic smile and replied, “no worries mate but shit I wouldn’t worry, the Flips here are normally pretty good and seem friendly enough”.

I jumped down from the roof and was about to ask the Filipino driver what he wanted and why he was getting so hot under the collar when all of a sudden Rosie appeared beside me and informed me that there was no need to get agitated the driver only wanted to get the baggage of three Filipinos who were ending their journey here. Feeling somewhat foolish at having totally misread the situation I moved aside whilst calling Bob down so the driver and assistant could get the luggage. While they were doing this I asked Rosie how much farther to her village to which she replied, “Rosie forget long time Rosie not go home”. With this said she joined the other people who were now boarding the jeepney leaving Bob and myself to climb up the ladder onto the roof and assume our positions as the shotgun riding foreigners.

This first hill was fairly steep and it was while traversing it that I developed a sort of begrudging respect for the hardy jeepney’s that crisscross the Philippines no matter what the conditions. The jeepney’s seem pretty much indestructible and really are the work horse of the Philippines. This jeepney was no exception, as it rumbled hill at a snails pace gushing out black diesel fumes I glanced at the road and realized this was more like one gigantic mud hole than a road. I was marveling at how the jeepney seemed to be impervious to the bog like conditions when suddenly we ground to a halt. I looked at Bob and he at me then we both looked down at the right hand side back wheel and sure enough it was firmly bogged in a watery muddy hole.

Having grown up in Australia I was no stranger to driving on dirt roads but normally I was using a car not an old diesel engine jeepney overloaded to maximum capacity and to be honest I wasn’t exactly sure how we were going to get out of the bog. Bob and I descended from the roof and all the Filipinos disembarked then we all just stood there and watched as the driver revved the engine and two Filipinos pushed the jeepney. As the back wheels spun and covered the guys pushing the jeepney with mud it soon became obvious that the jeepney was going nowhere unless they got some more man power pushing the dam thing out of the quagmire. I think both Bob and myself were hoping that somebody else would step up to help but obviously this did not happen and both the silly foreigners stepped forward and offered to help. In retrospect this was probably the best move Bob and myself made the entire trip because even though we were a source of vast amusement for the Filipinos we also gained the respect of the driver and cohorts and this was soon to be made very evident as the journey progressed.

We traveled for another two hours all the time heading steadily upwards until we came a point where the ground leveled out which was the top of the mountain pass. As the road began to level out signs of development began to appear. Little huts dotted the side of the road and little sari-sari stores became more frequent. The sides of the road were lined with children and when they set eyes on Bob and myself all covered in mud they would break out laughing or just stare in awe as if seeing a ghost. The jeepney made several stops along this stretch of the road and each time people would disembark and new people would climb on board but for Bob and myself it was all about the kids who just couldn’t come to terms with the two crazy mud splattered white men riding on top of the jeepney.

We had been traveling on the level road for what I estimated to be about 30 kilometers when the jeepney pulled over in what was almost a small town. This time the driver turned the engine off and all the passengers disembarked heading for what looked like the Filipino equivalent of a roadside diner. Once again Bob and I looked at each other and instantly decided when in Rome do as the Romans do so we both jumped down from the jeepney roof and headed towards the shack. As we entered the Filipinos from our jeepney never paid us any attention but the other Filipinos just stopped what they were doing and gaped at us in awe. It was a weird feeling being the center of attention and I thought to myself I guess this is a bit like how the celebrities feel.

The people in the hut just stared at us until Rosie approached us and said, “you sit with Rosie”. Bob and I promptly did as we were told but the people inside still kept staring at us. Rosie had ordered some food but neither Bob or myself were brave enough to partake in this places delicacies so we passed on the food and just stuck to drinking coke through plastic straws. Rosie didn’t take long to finish her meal and after paying the bill all three of us headed out to the jeepney. As we stepped outside the shack we were literally surrounded by a throng of kids. Some would jump around wildly trying to touch us and then run away, others would adopt a more demure approach sneaking up to us shyly avoiding eye contact only to touch us and then run away again, whilst others were just plain terrified and decided to check us out from a distance.

We gently pushed our way through the crowd of kids then Bob and myself mounted the jeepney to gain our elevated seats which brought a big cheer and peals of laughter from the kids. The other passengers then slowly boarded the jeepney and as the driver gunned the engine and headed down the road the jeepney was followed by a screaming crowd of kids all jumping and laughing as if seeing these strange foreigners had made their day. Later on I asked Rosie why the kids had been so excited and she explained that they had never seen a white man before let alone ones that were covered in mud.

The journey lasted another 2 hours during which time the jeepney got stuck 3 more times and each time Bob and myself had to get down and help push which meant by the time we reached Cawayan the nearest big town to Rosie’s village we were literally covered in mud and must have looked a real site to the locals. I remember disembarking from the jeepney roof then after picking up our luggage Rosie instructed us to follow her and we walked the streets of Cawayan with people just stopping to stare at us, until we reached a small house which Rosie proudly announced belonged to her cousin. Rosie knocked at the door and her cousin a Filipino male opened it and nearly had a heart attack when he saw Rosie flanked by two mud covered white men.

Of course the cousin didn’t have a shower but he did have a little area out back where his family showered compliments of a tap, a little bucket and a small jug with a handle which the Filipinos call a “tabo”. The idea here was to fill the bucket with water then dip the “tabo” into the bucket and pour the water from the “tabo” over your head. Bob and I took it turns showering and even though I would have much preferred a traditional shower the “tabo” shower certainly did the job and fifteen minutes later both Bob and myself were clean refreshed and ready to make our way to Rosies house. I asked Rosie, “where is your house, are we near it now” and she replied, “house near here, house near water not in big place like Cawayan”. We then grabbed our bags and once again followed Rosie through the streets of Cawayan.

For this excursion we were accompanied by Rosie’s cousin who as it turned out spoke passable English so I decided to question him a little bit thinking the more information I had the better. I asked him where we were now going explaining that after the six hour jeepney ride which I had initially been told was a mere 2 hour journey, I was a little weary when it came to Rosies sense of time. The cousin seemed amused by my description of our boat and jeepney ride and with a big smile he assured me that we were just making our way to the trike station where we would get a ride to Rosies village. He also assured me this was a half hour ride at the most. Rosies cousin and I had quite an interesting chat but just as I got to the trike I asked him what is Rosies father like and he replied Rosie dad traditional man he have no money but he still proud and he has big “bolo” for people he not like”. Just great I thought to myself, here I am in the middle of nowhere and I am about to experience the Filipino version of the Texas chain saw massacre, as an over protective father avenges his daughters honor taken by the evil foreigner.

Memoirs of a Philippine Mongerer

The joys of traveling in the Philippines.

I am well aware of the pitfalls involved with traveling in the Philippines but back when I was doing the trip to Masbate I was considerably younger and the problems were all just part of the experience. These days I am certainly getting older and I find my level of enjoyment is often in direct correlation with my level of comfort. When I was younger comfort was an added luxury but now it is a necessary pre requisite. In hindsight it is probably just as well that I undertook my trip to the wilds of Masbate when I was young because doing it today at my current age would not be an enjoyable experience at all. Throughout this entire trip comfort was merely a concept and English a luxury. I know that if I would try this trip today it would have to be under very different conditions but back then the lack of comfort and the total lack of English was all just part of the adventure, and Bob and myself took it all in our stride.

After getting the food from the flirtatious store girl. Rosie led me back to the cabin with one hand holding mine and the other tightly grasping her noodles. I was having a hard time negotiating my passage without stepping on one of the bodies that lay strewn all over the ferry floor, but for Rosie there was no such problem and as nimble as a cat she skipped over the sleeping Filipinos dragging her clumsy footed foreigner boyfriend behind her. One thing that has always amazed me is the Asian races ability to sleep just about anywhere and this ferry trip just bolstered my amazement. I mean the trip had only been under way three hours or so and already the floor was littered with bodies lying prone or slumped against a wall fast asleep.

Rosie and I made it back to the cabin where Bob lay sleeping and Rosie nimbly jumped up to the top bunk without rousing Bob then motioned for me to follow her. I climbed up on the bed only causing Bob to stir a little bit and no sooner had I got onto the mattress when Rosie pushed me down and started unzipping my pants saying Rosie give you special time now honey. At first I was a little bit put off knowing that Bob was sleeping just 3 feet below us but in the end I was putty in Rosie’s hands and I soon managed to push Bob from my mind and concentrate on the sensation of pleasure that was rapidly enveloping me.

As some of you who have read the earlier chapters will remember Rosie used to work in the Bee Club which was basically a glorified blow job bar and this in turn led me to believe that she would be orally skilled but so far she had only blown me away (pardon the pun) twice and I was beginning to wonder if maybe the problem laid with me. So there I was just lying back enjoying Rosie’s oral administrations when suddenly I felt the familiar feelings of orgasm beginning to overtake me and next thing I knew I was jetting my man juice into her soft warm oral cavity.

There are orgasms and then there are orgasms and this one was definitely in the later category. I could literally feel my toes curling and Rosie just kept on sucking and licking until I could hold back no longer and then with a loud moan followed by a sharp intake of breath the orgasm overcame me. After I had finished I lay down with my eyes closed in a state of total relaxation when all of a sudden Bobs voice comes drifting up and I hear him saying, “Hey Rosie me love how about ya give old Bob one now”.

The trip to Masbate was not exactly luxurious and we must have spent at least fifteen hours crammed into that small cabin but this was also a perfect opportunity for us to get to know each other and during those fifteen hours we had numerous in-depth conversations and a sort of bond grew between the three of us. During this trip I actually got to talk to Rosie and get to know her. I won’t say we had in-depth conversations because with her rudimentary English and my massive five word Tagalog vocabulary this would have been impossible, but despite the language barriers I did get to know her better and I think she developed a slightly better understanding of me and maybe even felt the beginnings of some affection.

During the trip we all developed a sort of sleep talk eat, sleep talk eat, cycle and just as I was coming awake after one of my sleep cycles I heard Rosie giving an excited little squeal so rubbing my sleep laden eyes I asked, “hey what’s up hon” to which she turned round from the little port hole window and said, “we Masbate now, Rosie come home”. We were still a 1000 yards from the dock but Rosie had already packed what small amount of baggage we had and excitedly she led us outside to the main area of the boat and pushed her way to one of the windows so she could look out at her beloved island almost like she thought it might disappear at any second.

After about ten minutes we docked and slowly but surely the huge door that has locked us all in began to descend and Bob and myself along with a hundred or so Filipinos together with various animals were bathed in sunlight. The door descended slowly which was just as well because we would have all been temporarily blinded by the bright sunlight. As the door hit the dock the Filipinos all pushed towards the opening and we were caught up in the rush. I remember being jostled forward to the point where I was pushing people away from me but Bob and Rosie had a more easy going attitude and they just went with the flow. For Rosie getting pushed around and jostled by the crowd was as natural as daylight and sometime later when I asked her why she let people do that she replied always like that in Philippines.

I managed to make my way to the side of the stream of people where I could get a better view of my surroundings and the first thing that caught my eye was the kids all floating besides the boat. Every now and then one or two of them would duck dive and come up smiling and it slowly dawned on me that people were tossing coins of the boats for the kids to dive after. It never ceases to amaze me how necessity can produce amazing results and this was certainly the case with these kids. Even though the Philippines is a land of 7001 islands it is a well known fact that only a small amount of Filipinos can swim properly but this was certainly not the case here as these kids in the pursuit of precious ‘pera’ had become very proficient swimmers both above and below the water.

After getting off the boat and meeting up with Rosie and Bob who were waiting for me by a little store just off to the side of the dock I asked Rosie how do we get to your place and she pointed down a hill at a line of jeepney’s. Gathering our bags Bob and myself followed Rosie down the hill to the waiting jeepney’s and when we got there Rosie engaged the drivers in an animated discussion in what I assumed was the local language. After about 5 minutes of arguing back and forth Rosie settled on one jeepney and told Bob and myself to get inside.

As anyone at all familiar with the Philippines knows, Jeepney’s are a symbolic icon in this country and they are the most used form of public transport. However, even though they are iconic they are in my experience far from comfortable and the jeepney we were now sitting in was no exception. As Bob and I tumbled in the claustrophobic jeepney we came face to face with a van full of Filipinos of all shapes and ages all of whom seemed fascinated by these two strange white men cramped into the jeepney beside them. I had the distinct feeling that we were a curiosity item and they wanted to ask us what the heck we were doing here and bombard us with a thousand other questions but communication was severely hampered by the language barrier so rather than talk to us they just sat there and looked at us. I had traveled before so this wasn’t the first time I had been an object of curiosity but Bob was a little nonplused by the attention and he asked me hey mate can you ask Rosie to come in here and tell these people to stop gawking at us”. I looked around for Rosie only to find her outside watching the porters put our baggage securely on the jeepney’ s roof.

And that’s when it hit me, why sit crunched inside the jeepney banging our heads on the low roof while a bunch of Filipinos looked at us like we were aliens from out of space, when we could be sitting on the roof where there was more room, we could stretch our legs and there wasn’t a bunch of Filipinos constantly staring at us. I put my head out of the window and called Rosie over asking her if Bob and I could ride on the roof. Rosie then turned round to ask the driver which caused a look of confusion which rapidly turned to amusement and the driver in between smiles said “hey Joe you ride top”.

Bob and I quickly disembarked from inside the jeepney and then climbed the little side ladders to our perch on the roof top. After about half an hour more the jeepney beneath us was full to capacity and with the Filipinos crammed inside much like sardines the engine came to life and with a smattering of diesel fumes we were on our way. We had been traveling for about 45 minutes when the jeepney made it’s first stop allowing passengers to get off and also to board, I had no idea how long this journey would take us so using the ladder I climbed down and poked my head inside the jeepney to ask Rosie how long the trip would be. When I did this the Filipinos all looked at me as if I was mad and then stared at Rosie as if they had suddenly realized this young Filipina was with the foreigners which of course was another source of amazement for them and I was to find out later that for the first few hours of our trip the Filipinos were quizzing Rosie mercilessly.

When I asked Rosie how long the journey was replied 2 hours something but I was to soon find out that when asking questions to Filipinas always leave them a lot of leeway because you can bet your bottom dollar they will give you an inaccurate answer, as I was to find out as the trip went on. The trip actually took us seven hours as we traversed the mountain range that runs smack down the middle of Masbate. On the way we were to get covered in mud, meet people who had never seen a white man before, push the jeepney out of 2 foot deep mud holes and of course have meaningful conversations with the chickens and piglets that cohabitated with us on our rooftop. This was a real eye opening trip but that’s another story for another time, in my continuing Philippine odyssey.

Memoirs of a Philippine Mongerer

Masbate or bust.

As with any woman when her man comes home late in the evening Rosie was suspicious but as it turned out even though she was suspicious she didn’t seem to be to angry. At the time I felt immensely relieved but in hindsight I probably should have questioned her lack of emotion which was to become somewhat of a trademark of mine and Rosie’s relationship. I was thinking what a cool woman she is and how lucky I was to have escaped the wrath of a Filipina spurned but in fact the opposite was true. Rosies lack of reaction was not because I was lucky and not because she was a super cool woman but simply because she didn’t really have any emotional attachment for me. I was just a temporary ride which she would utilize until it no longer suited her. At the time I did not realize this so I just thanked my lucky stars and started making preparations for her and myself to visit Masbate.

It took me all of 25 minutes to pack for Masbate because all it really involved was throwing a few pairs of jeans, shorts shirts and shoes into my rucksack plus I reasoned I really wouldn’t need much because we were going to a rural island where life was pretty simple and no doubt moved at a snails pace. After packing Rosie and I made our way downstairs where Koripot Bob was waiting for us with his usual San Miguel beer in hand and a large sports bag by his side. “Ready to go when you are mate” he said, “just gotta finish me beer then youze guys call the taxi and we’ll get on the way to Masbate”.

Rosie and I ventured outside where the friendly guard hailed us a taxi and loaded ours and Bobs bags into the boot and we headed of to the harbor for our ferry ride to Masbate. Harbors in any country seem to attract the seedier elements of life and Manila harbor is no exception. As the taxi pulled over we paid the driver unloaded the baggage and almost immediately we were surrounded by a horde of sweat ridden Filipinos dressed in ragged shorts and dirty singlet’s. Most of them had facial hair and were wearing bandana’s with flip flops for their shoes. Under other circumstances this might have felt like being a movie star but this lot was far from the paparazzi and it was more like being surrounded by a swarthy mob of hungry Filipinos.

At first I was a little worried by the mobs attention but then another car pulled up and dropped some people off so while the mobs attention was distracted I seized the opportunity to gently push my way through the remaining throng and started walking towards the nearest big building that I could see assuming that this was the ticket office. As it turned out I was correct and a short but hot stroll later we were inside the office standing in line to buy tickets for the ferry to Masbate. In normal countries you can expect to see the various sections of a ticket selling station clearly labeled but this was not the case here. There were three separate lines here and I had no idea which one was the line for Masbate. I looked at the lines but still having no clue which one to choose I asked Rosie to ask the people and next thing I knew myself and Bob were pushed towards the middle line where Rosie told us to wait because she had to visit the CR.

Of course we were in the Philippines so I knew it would be hot and whilst I realized that it was probably to much to ask for an air conditioner a wall fan or something just to circulate the air would have been much appreciated. Of course there was only one small fan in some far recess and within minutes Bob and myself were standing in line sweating like weightlifters before a dope test. Rosie seemed to take for ever but just before it was our turn to reach the counter she reappeared and took control of the ticket purchasing. In a rapid torrent of Tagalog Rosie did the communication duties and next thing I knew I was handing over 3000 pisos for Bobs myself and Rosie’s tickets. Rosie handed over the money and was given the tickets in return. Another burst of Tagalog happened and next thing I knew I was being pulled by the shirt by Rosie and told, “this way to ferry”.

Rosie seemed in a hurry but when I asked her why all she could say was, “we go boat now much better we make hurry get good room”. After a brisk walk we were soon at the pier were the ferry was loading and Rosie was literally pulling me up a large ramp and onto the boat. As we entered the boat I felt like we were on some kind of floating scrap heap. Inside it was dimly lit and it took a moment for our eyes to adjust. As we entered into the main section an odor of sweat and animals feces wafted towards our noses. The main area was a large space with people and animals scattered all over the wooden floor and next to them was an assortment of animals ranging from chickens and roosters through to dogs cats and goats. For a moment there I thought I was on Noah’s Ark but that illusion was shattered when a nearby rooster let out a piercing crow just to remind me I was in the Philippines. I don’t know about you guys but I have always found the Philippine rooster extremely annoying. As far as I knew roosters were supposed to crow at the rising of the sun but Philippine roosters will crow most of the day and constantly throughout the night. Up to this point I hadn’t really suffered from the roosters exercising their vocal chords but if there was one thing from this trip that made an indelible impression on my memory it was the crowing of roosters throughout the day and at all hours of night. To this day 20 years later I have an aversion to roosters and I am sure it is a result of this trip.

Rosie entered the main area and started wading her way through the sea of humanity and wildlife towards a small little guy in the far corner. This guy was dressed in what looked like some sort tattered uniform so I assumed he was some sort of boat official. Deciding that it was better to follow Rosie rather than just stand there gaping so we both hoisted our baggage and waded into the crowd pretending to be oblivious of the stares the locals were giving us. The walk through the main cabin was uneventful and we managed to make it across the room without stepping on anyone or injuring anyone’s precious animal.

By the time we got there Rosie was in animated discussion with the boat guy until finally he looked at Rosie, looked at myself and Bob and then said follow me sir. Not knowing what was going on but having decided, ‘go with the flow’ was the best approach, Bob and myself followed Rosie and the guy without a word until we reached a cabin with 2 bunk beds. Our guide stepped aside and then waved us through indicating that we should enter the cabin then as we entered he remained standing at the doorway with an expectant look on his face. I asked Rosie what is up with this guy and she told me he is waiting for his tip. Waiting for a tip I asked, why should I give him a tip”? Rosie looked at me as if I was some dumb foreigner and said “because he is the one to get room”.

I have always been a firm believer in spontaneity but sometimes I recognize the need for planning and as such I had made a few enquiries about the trip to Masbate. Consequently I knew they had private cabins on the ferry and I also knew the trip would take up to approximately 20 hours of traveling, but no matter how much planning I did nothing could prepare me for the reality of this trip. The cabin was not exactly what I would call first class being composed of two bunk beds and a passage so narrow two persons could not fit in when standing side by side. As far as I can remember there was a small air conditioning vent in the far right hand corner through which semi cold air filtered into the cabin and in the other corner was an overhead wall fan. Rosie and myself grabbed the top bunk while Bob was relegated to the bottom bunk and rather than mingle with people and animals outside we settled down for a little rest waiting for the boat to get under way. I knew this trip was going to be a long ordeal and I knew by the end of it I would probably hate the inside of this cabin but given a choice between mingling with the horde of people and animals in the main area or being tucked away safely in the cabin with Rosie and Bob, the cabin all of a sudden began to look quite attractive.

We had been traveling for about five hours when all of a sudden I was feeling a pressing urge to visit the toilet and Rosie of course was feeling hungry so together we decided to brave outside the cabin while Bob was slumbering peacefully. Once outside Rosie and myself had to navigate a mass of slumbering bodies all lying on the floor as we slowly made our way towards the toilet area. Everywhere I looked there were people either lying prone or just sitting and the only place people were standing was the line in front of the toilets. I stood in line for about three minutes and after doing my business at the over crowded urinal I walked outside to find an impatient Rosie waiting for me. When she saw me coming out she gave me one of those it’s about time looks, grabbed my hand and started leading me through the mass of bodies towards what looked like a small canteen in the far corner.

Eventually we made it over to the canteen where Rosie surveyed what was available and was soon ordering some instant noodles together with sky flake crackers. The lady behind the counter was staring at me as if she had seen some kind of ghost until Rosie said something in Tagalog which seemed to snap her out of her reverie and she proceeded over to a thermos from which she poured hot water onto the noodles and then delivered it to Rosie whilst still giving me furtive glances. Rosie paid the girl 20 piso then with a deliberate show of female power planted a great big kiss on my lips and said, “come cabin honey, Rosie has special for you”.

Memoirs of a Philippine Mongerer

Short time in Manila

So there we were stuck on Batangas pier with our luggage nowhere to be seen and the vultures dressed as porters were circling ever closer. I looked at Bob with panic in my eyes when Rosie said “wait boy bring bag now”. I looked back towards the ferry and sure enough there was a line of guys all laden down with luggage negotiating the ten foot gang plank. I immediately had visions of my bag falling in the water but these boys were as sure footed as a mountain goat and next thing I knew my bag was in a pile along with the others lying on Batangas pier. Rosie and I quickly gathered my bag and then we made our way to the local bus being hounded by the proters the whole way “we carry your bag sir”, “I be the one sir”. Travelling by local bus is always a chore especially since the Filipinos have a tendency to push and shove rather than stand in line and proceed in an orderly fashion. This was made even worse by the Filipino porters dogging us every step of the way insistent that they carry our luggage.

Eventually we managed to fight our way onto a bus where of course there were no seats available except right up the back so with Bob and myself forming our equivalent of the All Blacks rolling mall we pushed our way into the back seats and waited for the bus to get going and take us to Manila. In those days the trip was normally a good 4 hours and this was to be no different. I don’t know how many of you have ever had the misfortune of traveling on a local Filipino bus but trust me it is an experience that is somewhat unique. The roads are sub standard and they pack the Filipinos in way above the buses legal carrying capacity. Normally there are two rows of seats with the aisle down the center but on the provincial buses they suddenly break out the miniature plastic chairs which are some of the smallest chairs I have ever seen and then the passengers sit on these in the aisle making it just about impossible to negotiate the aisle way if you have to get out of the bus.

Outside every town there are vendors and the bus seems to stop for them and when it does they pile on and negotiate the length of the bus trying to peddle their various foods. The food they are pushing ranges from Chicheron deep fried pork fat through to quail eggs and chicken feet. In those days it must have been unusual for the vendors to see foreigners because they would work their way through the bus then when they got tom Bob and myself they would simply stand there and stare. Then when I stared back it seemed to dawn on them that we were actually real people and not figments of their imagination and straight away they would try to push the food products on us holding them right next to our faces. When this got no response they would start on Rosie saying “Mam Mam Chicheron Mam”. After about the tenth time this got really annoying so Bob and simply donned our sunglasses and pretended to be asleep every time the vendors approached us. This left Rosie to handle them which she did rather well. At first she would decline their offer politely then when they became insistent she would let fly with a torrent of Tagalog that would have made Cardinal Sin blush.

We eventually arrived at the Mayfair hot, sweaty and dirty from the hours of traveling. After checking in I headed for the shower then gave Rosie a quick welcome back to Manila round. After that we took a shower together then she hurriedly dressed and said she would be back later in the evening but she had to go now as she had some family stuff to take care of before leaving to the province. I asked her for an approximate time she would return and received an answer of maybe ten or something like that. In other words she had no idea what time she would be back and even if she did she wasn’t about to tell me. Over the years I have noticed that Filipinas are often scared to commit and this sacredness of commitment will often manifest itself in being unable to commit to a time or for that matter a relationship or even a simple promise.

After Rosie left I decided to crash out for a while and it seemed like I had only been sleeping for a matter of minutes when I was rudely woken up by the intrusive ringing of the telephone. Through sleep laden eyes I fumbled around for the phone only to be greeted by Bobs cheery voice on the other end saying, “hey wake up mate it’s time for a beer and some pussy hunting”. If that had of happened at my current age I would have simply taken the phone off the hook and gone back to sleep but in those days I was young, invigorated and much more enthusiastic so I replied, “give me twenty mate and I will meet you downstairs”.

At this stage I had never been bar hopping with Bob in Manila before and I was about to discover a whole new world of ‘koripot’ bar hopping where getting the most out of every piso was the primary objective. My natural inclination was to go to the bigger bars where there were more girls and more customers. I was attracted by the bright lights, the number of girls and by what I call only call the vibrancy of the M.H.Del Pilar big bars. However Bob who was a more experienced campaigner than myself preferred the quieter smaller bars where he could be the center of attention, there was less competition and the girls according to him were more service orientated at a cheaper price. For Bob bar hopping wasn’t so much about hanging out with the boys but more about finding the right girl, with the right attitude for the right price.

We exited the Mayfair and proceeded along Mabini Street but instead of turning off to M.H.Del Pilar Bob motioned for us to keep going along Mabini until we reached the end where there was a group of bars which we entered. The main one of these was a bar called Slouch Hat which still exists to this day 20 years later. For some reason this small group of bars survived the ravages of Mayor Lim and continue to do business much like they did twenty years ago.

Very obviously this was not Bob’s first visit as he strolled in here like a lackadaisical Australian cocky, sat down at the bar where he was greeted by name and proceeded to order two san Miguel beers. At this stage I was still comparatively new to the country so I was still enjoying San Miguel and it wouldn’t be until a further 2 years that I would learn to avoid the stuff wherever possible. At that stage there was a small dance stage which featured about three dancers and the rest of the girls were something like Guest Relations Officers (GRO) who mingled throughout the room just chatting to customers and subtly hustling ladies drinks. This was a very laid back scene completely different from the glitzy clubs with bright lights, thumping music and hundreds of drunken customers that symbolized M. H. Del Pilar. To be honest at that stage in my life I really didn’t find anything that excited me in this scene and even today 20 years later I still find myself attracted to shall we say the more commercialized bars which have a more energetic ambience. Having said this there is definitely a place for bars such as the Slouch Hat and today even in sin city Angeles there are numerous similar bars that are frequented by locals, long term tourists and the older generation of bar hoppers.

We stayed in Slouch Hat for about one hour and even though many of the girls came and said hello to me there was nothing there that struck my fancy and after Bob had chosen his girl I thanked Bob for his introduction to this bar scene and then announced that I was heading towards M.H Del Pilar to catch up with a few friends and have a few drinks. Bob seemed happy with this and said Okay mate no worries I’m going to take me girl here back to the Mayfair and do what a mans gotta do”. He then gave his girl a little pat on the bum and said giddy up love it’s time we finished our business at the hotel”. I am not sure if the girl understood him or not but when she got patted on her behind she let out a little giggle and grabbed hold of Bobs arm virtually pulling him out of the bar and back to the hotel.

I saw Bob and girl into a taxi and then walked the short distance to M.H.Del Pilar where I was confronted with Flames bar which is right next to the Iseya Hotel. During these years Flames was more of a daytime bar and although it had definitely seen better days it was one of those bars that customers developed a real loyalty to and it was one of those bars that the genuine mongerer should always periodically check out. To find a comparison in modern day Angeles is quite hard but the closest I can come is the Welcome Inn. Just like Flames the Welcome Inn usually only has a very limited number of good looking girls but it is one of those bars that people feel compelled to check out periodically because you never knew when a new batch of ladies will come and the party will kick in. Flames was not a party bar and it had certainly seen better days but still thanks to David I was aware of its reputation and I thought it might be worth a visit.

As I entered Flames my eyes were drawn to the stage where there was about ten girls dancing and there right in the center of the stage was this ravishing beauty that no sooner did I see her I knew I had to have her. I sat down slightly back from the bar ordered a Jack Daniels coke and then tried to make eye contact with the new dream girl. After repeated attempts at getting her attention and being rebuffed I figured out to call a waitress over and ask her to fetch the girl for me as I wanted to buy her a drink. I have often found that the best way to get a girl down from the stage is ask a waitress to do it for you. This will normally cost a drink or two for the waitress but once you have done this you have gained a loyal business friend who will source out the hot looking girls for you simply because it’s in her best financial interests to do so.

The waitress called the girl down and I bought them both a drink. The waitress was named Sandy and she introduced the dancer as Angela. As soon as Angela sat down I saw that I had made a damned good choice as this woman was absolutely ravishing. Angela had almond shaped dark brown eyes, a beautiful dark chocolate brown complexion, a tight little bubble butt and legs all the way to heaven. She strolled across the room with natural athletic grace and then sat down next to me giving me a radiant smile that just melted my defenses like a laser cutting through butter.

Talking to Angela was like a breath of fresh air not only was she stunningly beautiful but she had a good grasp of English and her personality was genuinely bubbly and happy. Angela and I chatted for what seemed like hours and when I popped the bar fine question she smiled that dazzling smile and said sure I like you pay mummy I change clothes. With that said Angela headed off to the change rooms while I paid the bills and next thing I knew we were inside a taxi heading towards trusty old Anito Lodge.

Upon reflection I realize that I wasn’t really expecting Angela to be an awesome experience sexually. It was almost like I was thinking this woman is so good in every way I bet she won’t be good in bed, it was almost like I was afraid to expect perfection just in case I was let down. I am really glad to report that Angela was nothing short of spectacular this young woman was an extremely attentive lover who wasn’t shy to try various positions and she did so with gusto and eagerness. This young lady wasn’t a firecracker or particularly vocal but she was energetic and enthusiastic and it was really hard to control my urge to climax especially when she was riding me and those perfectly round tits which resembled ripe papayas were giggling in front of me as she slithered up and down my rock hard cock. Angela was one of those rare Filipinas who had multiple orgasms and it took all my self control not to climax and stay hard while this nubile young lady satisfied herself.

I think were probably at it for forty minutes or so when I said to myself hey Martin you have done a good job at self control but now its your turn. With this thought completed I rolled Angela over and mounted her from behind. Doggy style or style dog as the Filipinas call it has always been my favorite and this was certainly the case with Angela. Her cute little buns just stuck up in the air inviting me to spank her as I pounded her from behind.

I think in the end Angela and I did 3 rounds in a matter of hours and then as we finished I remembered that Rosie was supposed to be meeting me at the Mayfair so I had better get my ass back there pronto and claim just another drunken night with some good mates. I quickly showered making sure not to get my hair wet and then exited Anito holding hands with Angela only to walk out into the beginning of another day with the sun coming up over Malate church. Amongst devout promises to go and see Angela again I loaded her into a taxi complete with a five hundred peso note in her delicate little palm and then hailed myself a cab to head back to the Mayfair Hotel.

On the way back I rehearsed in my mind the excuses I was going to give Rosie but these all went out of my head as upon arrival the Mayfair guard opened the taxi door and said Sir Martin you in big problem, Mam Rosie she wait outside room for long time now and she make to much angry to you”. Oh shit I thought to myself here we go again and assuming my very best sheepish crestfallen look I slowly walked into the Mayfair to face the music.

Memoirs of a Philippine Mongerer

Province here we come

Of course when Rosie heard my trip to the province proposition she instantly accepted. Many people think that a Filipina will not like to take you down to the province because she is ashamed of her humble origins however I have never found this to be true. In fact I have always found that if a girl likes you she will be more than willing to take you down to the province introduce you to her family and generally spend time with you. For these girls the foreigner boyfriend is often something of a minor status symbol and a sign that they have landed potential support for the family. On the other hand it is also normally a sign that the girl is working in the bar but the Filipinos tend to turn a blind eye to this preferring to concentrate instead on the fact that there is now a foreigner in the family and therefore potentially a whole new world is about to open for their daughter and hopefully the rest of the family as well. At best the foreigner is a ticket to a whole new world for many members of the family unit at worst he is economic security for the future.

On our way back to our little compound Rosie was excited and when we ran into Jovie she was excitedly telling her about our up and coming trip to the province. Eventually we made it back to our compound and as we entered I saw Koripot Bob, who had the hut next door to me, sitting on his porch tucking into his first San Miguel for the day. I waved at Bob and he waved back then Rosie ran up to his porch and excitedly announced that her and I were going to visit her province. Upon hearing this Bob suddenly seemed to perk up and he beckoned for Rosie to take a seat next to him and then enquired where is your province darling to which she replied Masbate and then out of the blue Bob asked me hey mate you mind if I come along I have always wanted to visit the province and I hear the girls in Masbate are really beautiful. When Rosie heard this she seemed to get excited and turning round to me she asked Mahal we bring Bob province diba? I wasn’t sure if Bob was joking or serious but it was very obvious that Rosie was very much in favor of him accompanying us and I figured the more the merrier , besides if it kept Rosie happy Bobs company would be very welcome.

That night we all sat around barbeque on the beach and I told the boys about my plans to go to the province with Rossie and Bob. The boys reacted in a surprisingly varied manner. Some just sniggered behind their hands, others just shook their heads and some were adamant in their efforts to try and persuade me not to go. Paramount amongst the later group was big Phil who seemed to have a real problem with Rosie and I going to the province. When I first made the announcement his reaction was incredulous disbelief and he asked, “mate are you really sure about this” to which I replied “yep I have looked it up and have decided I really want to go there. I mean there has to be more to life in the Philippines than chasing girls and sitting around on the beach getting drunk and stoned with your mates”. Straight away Phil responded well if you find something better than chasing pussy and drinking with your mates please let us know mate because none of us have ever found anything better and we’ve been coming here for years”.

From the back the little group I heard a snigger then little Jimmy buckets piped up and said, “no offense Marty but I wouldn’t be going down to the province if I was you” to which I asked why not mate don’t tell me it’s dangerous or something”? Not just dangerous with the bloody NPA crawling around everywhere but bloody primitive mate. I’m telling you Marty don’t do it”. I looked at Buckets and saw that he wasn’t joking then I replied okay mate thank you for your concern but I have made up my mind and I want to visit the province. Besides a little change of pace experiencing the rustic lifestyle will do me a world of good”.

Just then I was in for a surprise because from out of nowhere koipot Bob piped up and said ‘you know what mate I kinda fancy a trip to the province meself. Count me in mate I’m going with ya. Besides I have screwed all the good looking sheilas here anyway so lets check out the province and see what we can find there”. When Jimmy Buckets heard this he looked at Bob as if he had lost his marbles and just shook his head. Then he looked at me opened his mouth as if to say something but nothing came out and instead of issuing another warning he said, “you guys want a cold one. Just offering mate because you won’t find a cold beer in the province”.

That night turned into quite a session with the boys sitting round the camp fire in various states of inebriation while the girls just relaxed in their respective rooms doing whatever woman do while waiting for their drunken partner. Which reminds me one thing I don’t like about the Filipina is her tendency to gossip. All women love to gossip but the Filipina takes it to a whole new level. Filipinas can gossip like nobody else on the face of this earth. A chance to gossip is social interaction with like minded people, it is affirmation of ones opinions and best of all it is titillating and even scandalous something the Filipinas love due to their penchant for drama.

Late the next morning I woke up to the smell of fried fish wafting through my doorway so with a nasty throbbing hangover I stumbled out of bed across the room and opened my door to be confronted with Rosie and Jovie sitting on the balcony enjoying a good old gossip session while tucking into some fried fish and rice. When she saw me Rosie offered me some fish and rice but the thought of it made me queasy so I politely declined and headed towards the toilet.

After throwing up I headed towards the bed again but Rosie was having none of that so while I was trying to sleep or at least rest my aching head in peace and quiet Rosie puttered around the small shack making as much noise as she possibly could. After about an hour of this I realized there was nothing I could do about it and there was no way I was going to get any sleep so I slowly extricated my aching body from the comfortable bed walked out the door and headed for the beach. In my experience there is nothing better for a hang over cure than a swim in the ocean and I could here the beach calling me.

Even though I had a pounding headache it didn’t take me long to get to the water and next thing I knew I was swimming under water then floating on my back just letting the refreshing water envelope me in its soothing caressing and in a couple of minutes I found my headache slipping away. After half an hour or so I was feeling decidedly human again and I decided I could now face the trip to Manila and from there down to the province.

On the way back to the hut I saw koripot Bob who was sitting on his balcony so I asked him “are you ready to go man, province here we come” and to my surprise he answered straight away, “yes mate, packed and ready to go when you are”. This really was quite a surprise for me. I had been expecting Bob to say no having had second thoughts and yet here he was ready to go before even I was. I was to find out why Bob was so keen to get to the province some 4 days later and let me tell you when I did find out I was simply amazed.

I entered my hut and there on my bed was a change of clothing and my suitcase already packed with everything we had bought to Peurto Galera. I looked at Rosie and said are you trying to tell me something, anyone would think you were in a hurry to get to the province or something. Rosie smiled and replied, “you change clothes now get ferry Peurto then bus Manila”. So now my decision was made and there was no putting it off we were heading towards Manila and from there heading down to the province. I sauntered to my doorway and yelled to Bob that we were leaving in ten minutes and he shouted back no worries mate, cant wait.

Loaded down with luggage the trip to Manila was more than a little precarious and extremely wearisome. First we had to lug it all the way to the bunka station in Sabang then onto the boat where we made our way to Peurto Galera. At Peurto Galera we waited 45 minutes sitting on the dock while the old ferry which was running late made its way towards us from Batangas. Sitting on the dock I was feeling particularly vulnerable but Bob and Rosie seemed oblivious of everything as Rosie in halting English explained to Bob what her province was like. I listened to Rosie’s stories half heartedly while keeping an eye on the people around me and next thing I knew the old local ferry was rounding the bend and making its way towards us slowly but surely.

These days on the trip to Peurto Galera there is a number of huge sea cats and even ocean going buka’s that regularly do the crossing but back in those days there was only one sea cat and the local ferry. Having resided in Sydney for most of my youth I was very much used to the old wooden ferries but the one heading our way made the Sydney Ferries look brand spanking new and the epitome of luxury. As the Ferry drew nearer I felt a sort of subtle excitement course through me because I knew when I stepped aboard this I was well and truly beginning my trip to the province.

The old ferry was the chosen means of transportation for most Filipinos simply because it was a third cheaper than the SeaCat but then again there was a price to pay for the cheaper fare and as the ferry drew near I was to find out in no uncertain terms what this price was. Basically this was the means of transport not only for Filipinos but for their livestock as well. Goats, chickens and just about any other animal used this ferry for traveling from Batangas to Peurto Galera. We waited while the passengers and animals disembarked and next thing I knew I was being pulled by the hand and pushed towards the boarding plank. I couldn’t see the need for a hurry but Rosie was most insistent and she pointed to Bob in front of us who was busy muscling his way in front of a pair of Filipino guys to get on the boat as quickly as possible. I asked Rosie what’s the hurry but all she could do was pull me by the hand. After pushing and shoving we managed to board the boat where Rosie literally threw her bag on the floor encouraged me to do the same and then pushed me towards the boats bow. As we navigated our way through plastic wrappers and animal feces it suddenly dawned on me that the prime seats were the ones in front of the boat where the air was fresh and we wouldn’t suffocate on the odors of animal feces.

Up the front of the boat we traveled in comparative luxury and it was a pleasant experience with the wind and ocean spray blowing in our faces. The trip took about 40 minutes to cross the Batangas channel and during that time I just hugged Rosie and gazed across the ocean lost in my own private reverie.

When we arrived at Batangas Port I was once again on my guard. It seemed like the squatter area by the water had gotten even bigger since we last saw it and the crowd of raggedy kids had increased also. When the boat docked we made our way together with the other passengers towards our luggage only to find an empty space where my bag should have been. I made worried gestures towards Rosie indicating that my bag was missing but all she could do was look at me with a vacant expression and as the boat emptied out I was left pondering where the heck was my bag and what was I going to do now that every article of clothing I had bought with me had suddenly gone missing. This was a lot more than a mere inconvenience, this was a hassle of the first degree.

Memoirs of a Philippine Mongerer

The air is cleared and the province beckons

As much as I hated to admit it Rosie was right, if I was going to live in the same compound as these other guys I would have to confront them and try to mend the wounds especially with big Phil. I figured what Phil had done was wrong at least for me but then again it took two to tango and Rosie was not exactly blameless either. With my mind firmly made up I tried to shake Rosie awake but to no avail so I grabbed a quick shower then headed out the door to find big Phil and see what could be done to renew our friendship.

I found big Phil sitting on his balcony overlooking the ocean sitting there sipping a beer while a lady whom I had never met before grilled a fish on the barbeque besides his hut. As I approached I decided the casual approach was probably my best option so I simply strolled up to him and said “gooday mate sorry about the other night” to which he replied ah Marty I have been waiting for you come up here and have a fucking seat we have some unfinished business”. Upon hearing these words I looked at the size of the man and thought to myself I can run now and avoid this or I can take my beating like a man and put up some sort of fight. I realized that if I ran away I would lose all respect from Phil and his mates plus I would lose all self respect and most importantly I would never be able to face this man again. There are times in life when one just has to bite the bullet and endure the consequences of ones actions no matter how painful they are and this was certainly one of those times for me.

I looked up at him and decided “fuck it, if he is going to hit me I will try my best to get a few in and lets see what happens. I knew instinctively that running away or avoiding the man would just exacerbate the problem so I decided to confront the problem face to face. I walked up the three steps and sat in a chair besides Phil who no sooner had I sat down said to me “hey Marty go get us a couple of beers from the ice box will ya mate easier to talk with you over a beer”. Feeling like an errand boy I made my way inside Phils hut to find a cooler with ice and a dozen San Miguel beers inside. I grabbed two and then proceeded outside to continue my chat with Phil.

As I handed him the beer I started with the humble approach and said listen mate I am sorry for swinging at you in the disco and all that. It’s just that I was drunk and when I saw you dancing with my woman I jst saw red like a bull with a red flag. It wasn’t anything personal mate and I want to apologize” Apologizing for hitting a guy who had been fucking my girlfriend just didn’t make any sense at that time and I still felt my actions had been morally justified but at the same time I realized I had to live in the same compound as this guy and if eating a little humble pie would make the situation better then I was prepared to do that.

When he heard my words Phil gave me a lopsided smirk and said Marty you got a lucky one in mate, now I know how you fight I will be ready next time and then I’m going to kick the living shit out of you’. As he issued this promise the smirk vanished and became a scowl and I realized he was intensely serious. Upon hearing this I backed my chair away from him slightly and said mate where you and I come from you don’t fuck your mates girlfriend and let’s face it that’s exactly what you were doing and I was bloody pissed of. Phil looked at me with an expression of utter disbelief and said “Marty you are such a beginner you are not in Aus now mate so let me explain how things work around here”. I just want you to know I have been going with Rosie on and off for at least 2 years now long before you knew her and considered her your girlfriend. Mate you need to understand Rosie is a professional bar girl who has had more pricks than a pub dart board and she will never change. She will always fuck around on you mate because that’s the way it is over here and that’s the only way they know how to make extra money. Besides mate fucking is in the Filipinas blood they love it mate”.

For me Phil’s words were not exactly shocking but they were a bit harsh and bitterly truthful. Phil looked at me digesting his words and after a while he said there are a couple of other things you should know mate. Rosie was the one who approached me and she was the one who approached 3 other guys in the compound and we all gave her one mate. Upon hearing this my blood began to boil which must have been fairly obvious to big Phil as he reached across, put his hand on my shoulder and said relax Marty I have told you it’s nothing personal. It’s just that Rosie is a slut who needs to make money and the only way she knows how to do that is by fucking.”

I looked at Phil and replied yeah I get all that but the fact is she is my girlfriend, you are my mate and mates don’t do that to each other. Phil replied, “yeah we are mates and that’s why I told you I didn’t want you hearing it from somebody else”. That’s also why I said it’s nothing personal against you man and besides Rosie was my girlfriend long before she met you so get real mother fucker and realize where you are and what you are doing here. For me with my Australian scale of values everything Phil was saying went against the grain but somehow I knew where I was and what country I was in and Phils words in a distorted way made sense.

I looked at Phil and said you know what mate I am trying to see your point of view and to be honest I am caught between two worlds here. My Australian world tells me you are a cunt who has been fucking my girlfriend but in the Philippines I kind of understand where you are coming from. So mate lets just leave it at this Rosie is my girl now I will support her as best I can and I would appreciate it if you and the other boys could refrain from fucking her until she has split up with me. Phil sia that sfair enough mate I will pass the word along to the other blokes but in the meantime two more beers mate.

So there it was, I had confronted big Phil, I had stated my point of view, we had cleared the air, come to an agreement and best of all we were still friends. Okay I knew it was never going to be like before, at least not in my mind, but at least we were cordial and my existence would now hopefully be a little peaceful while I was spending time in Sabang.

After we had downed about 6 beers each had a good long chat and to some extent rekindled our friendship I told Phil I had to go see Rosie and I thanked him for the beer shook his hand and strolled back to my hut. As I walked I could feel Phils eyes on my back and I knew that even though we had reached a peace it was an uneasy one and the relationship could turn sour with only the slightest provocation.

I entered my hut, gently shook Rosie awake and told her lets go get something to eat. Rosie and I strolled down the beach until we came across what looked like a little outside eatery and Rosie’s eyes alighted on a fish being grilled and she was suddenly adamant that we should eat here. I had no idea what was so special about this fish but I wasn’t about to object as I am comfortable eating just about anywhere. We sat down in the plastic chairs at the plastic tables in the front of the eatery and Rosie in rapid Tagalog ordered some fish and rice.

As we sat there with me drinking a beer na beer and Rosie sipping on a mango juice she began to tell me about her life in the province. She regaled me with stories of her relatives, the food and her day to day existence in a very simplistic and in some ways hard world. She explained that whatever the fish was they were cooking was abundant in her province so when she saw this it bought back many happy childhood memories.

As we dined and listening to Rosie talk I saw another side of her that I had never seen before. She was animated and excited and it was very obvious that the province was close to her heart. When she talked about her experiences there she was continuously smiling and I could see she would love a visit back there. As for me I thought the situation here in Sabang was a little tense I had not really traveled in the Philippines and besides a trip to the province would make Rosie happy and probably earn me numerous brownie points in our relationship.

So now I was decided and as Rosie and strolled back to the hut I asked her “darling what is the name your province”. She looked at me deep in thought and responded “ano”. When I heard this I smiled and made up my mind to visit Captain Greg’s tomorrow where I could find a map and check out the location of her province named Ano.

The next day I woke up comparatively early and made my way to Captain Gregs where I knew if anywhere had some maps this would be the place. I made my way upstairs to the restaurant area and there sure enough were some maps of the Philippines. The girl there asked me what part of the Philippines am I looking for and I replied I am looking for the island Ano. Suddenly the girl started giggling and then said sir no island name Ano in the Philippines. But there must be I said because that’s what my girlfriend told me and why would she lie about something like that. The girl not sure if I was serious or not said sir I promise you no Ano in the Philippines. I looked at her in disbelief and said can I have a look at some maps anyway maybe I will be able to find or something with a similar name. The girl looked at me again and said certainly sir I will get you map of Visaya region because your girlfriends province probably there. With this said she ducked down behind a counter and then surfaced holding a large scroll type map which I took over to one of the tables ordered a cup of coffee and began to study the thing in earnest.

I studied the map for at least twenty minutes and was just about to give up when all of a sudden out of the corner of my eye I caught sight of that magical three letter word Ano. Feeling excited I quickly took the map over to the counter girl and presented it showing her the minute Island named Ano. The girl of course had to do a double take but there was no denying it there was the little island Ano. I asked the girl where this island was and how hard was it to get there and her reply was this island is near Cebu but she doubted I had met a girl from this island as it looked very small and the population was no doubt tiny as well. When she expressed her concerns I told her to keep the map open while I went and got my girlfriend and she could tell us if this was in fact her island Ano.

Forty minutes later I was back with Rosie in tow and then I showed her the map with the island Ano she simply burst out laughing. This was followed by a rapid dialogue with the counter girl then between them they poured over the map until they had found what they were looking for and then called me over to have the counter girl point at some island named Masbate and say “that is province Rosie sir”. I looked at this island named Masbate and asked why did she tell me her provinces name was Ano when it’s name is Masbate? This caused more laughter from the girls and in between giggles the pair of them managed to explain that Ano is a common expression used when they forget the actual name for something. Upon hearing this I had to laugh as well and then turning to Rosie still chuckling I asked her how would you like to visit your province with me?

Memoirs of a Philippine Mongerer

Negotiating with Rosie

Having Rosie banging on the door and cursing me in Tagalog at the top of her lungs was a worrisome situation. The banging steadily go louder but Clare seemed oblivious as she kept on sleeping peacefully. I don’t know what it is but Filipinas seem to have that unerring ability to be able to sleep just about anywhere, even when there is another Filipina banging on the door and cursing loudly. When I suddenly heard Rosies voice and her banging on the door I temporarily froze and was at a complete loss what to do. On the one hand I could open the door and simply confront Rosie or I could open the door and play contrite and apologize or I could simply leave the door shut and hope that eventually she would go away. Knowing that the best defense is offense I decided to open the door and confront Rosie because in my book she had no right to be angry with me when she had been doing the same thing herself.

I answered Rosie “just wait please I will be out in a minute just let me get dressed please”. It took me about 1 minute to get my jeans on and splash some water on my face but I deliberately delayed opening the door figuring this was a subtle way of saying I am dictating the pace of this confrontation. In retrospect this was a mistake because all it did was make Rosie angrier but at the time it seemed like the right thing to do.

After 3 minutes I sauntered over to the door opened it only to be confronted by a fuming Rosie trying to push her way into the room. Now at this stage I was skinny but still a fairly big man and certainly big enough to stop a little Filipina entering the room if I really wanted to. At least that is what I thought until I opened the door and Rosie barged in, pushing me aside like I was made of thin air.

After entering the room Rosie stood at the end of the bed and screamed at Clare. Upon hearing Rosies voice Clare opened her eyes and said in perfect English hey girl you and I are the same. You leave him so I take him. Rosie seemed to momentarily digest this then launched herself towards Clare. As much as I would have loved to off seen a good cat fight I just couldn’t let it happen so quickly I grabbed Rosie’s arm and held her stationary while asking Clare to leave.

Non pulsed by any of this Clare simply looked at me, looked at the seething Rosie and said Ok lang. Looking back on it I realize what a cool customer Clare really was. In her mind Rosie had left an open opportunity and all she had done was take it. I had no idea if Clare could fight or not and I wasn’t in a hurry to find out but I did notice that she seemed to take her time getting ready to leave almost as if she was ready for me to release Rosie and let the fight begin.

Holding a struggling Filipina is like trying to reel in a game fish. It is hard work and they never stop struggling. Filipinas may not be big but they are strong and slippery as an eel, especially when they are “high blood”. Clare took her sweet time getting ready and then as she was leaving she said something to Rosie in Tagalog which made Rosie even angrier and struggle more intensely. Not all Filipinas can fight physically but every single Filipina that ever lived understands the art of bitchiness and Clare was no exception.

After Clare had left I let Rosie go and she promptly raced out the door and ran a hundred yards down the beach shouting and looking for Clare. Of course by this time Clare had made herself well and truly scarce however something told me the conflict between her and Rosie was far from over and I knew it would be carried on a later date some time in the future.

After stomping up and down the length of the beach looking for Clare Rosie eventually became resigned to the fact that she wasn’t going to find Clare at least not right now so the best option was to head back to the hut and give Martin some shit. Rosie barged her way into my hut and basically started screaming at me. I looked at her calmly and replied “either you calm down and we can speak or you take your belongings and get the fuck out of here”. With that I crossed the room pushed past her and took a seat on the porch overlooking the beach. Rosie followed me out and started to shout at me again so I told her “sit down and talk to me or your out of here”.

Rosie must have seen something in my eyes that told her I was serious because after giving me a hostile glare she begrudgingly sat down and said “you bastos why you have other girl”? At first I couldn’t believe what I was hearing and I said “you have got a nerve why shouldn’t I have a girl when you are fucking the other guys in this compound. She looked at me with a seething glare and said “different for me, I not man I just do for money you do because you like. You not give money Rosie sex money”.

So there it was the eternal double standard it was okay for the girl to fuck around because she was doing it for money whereas it was not okay for the man because he was only doing it for pleasure. This was my first encounter with this logic so I said “let’s get this straight, you think it’s ok to fuck around for money but not ok to fuck for pleasure?” Rosie looked at me as if I was a dullard and replied “syempre I fuck other man so you no have to give money”. So here was another confounding point, in Rosie’s mind she was having sex with other guys to make money and which was okay because then she didn’t have to ask me. For her this was tangible proof of the depth of her feeling for me.

Now to anyone with a normal western background this logic would be totally perverse and so it was for me and I found myself just sitting there shaking my head in disbelief. To be honest I was dumbfounded and had no idea how to respond so I just sat there speechless shaking my head in disbelief. The thing that really got me was that Rosie devoutly believed what she was telling me and to her it justified her actions whilst vilifying mine.

I remember arguing with Rosie for at least another hour and in the end we came to a compromise where I would give her a monthly allowance and be faithful to her and she would refrain from going with other guys. So by the end of the negotiations I had ended up promising to give Rosie money and also agreed to be stuck with one woman plus I had gotten the word of a long time bar girl that she was going to be faithful to me. And here’s the real problem at the time I was pleased as punch and thought I negotiated a really good deal for myself. When I look back on how naïve I was in those days it is simply mind boggling.

At that time I did not know any better and being used to dealing with Australian women I thought I was getting a pretty good deal. For me it was hey I got this good looking girl who in Australia wouldn’t even look at me and here she is saying she will only sleep with me if I just give her a monthly allowance. At the time I was still comparing these women and my environment to that in which I had grown up in and had formed my values. This is a big mistake many people make when they are first here. The truth of the matter is if you stand up for yourself being male and having the money you can control the relationship with a Filipina but at this stage I did not realize this and I was more than willing to accept Rosie’s negotiated terms and conditions.

After we struck a deal Rosie seemed to calm down a bit and she stood up grabbed my hand and pulled me into the hut. From there she began to tear my clothes off then laid me down on the bed while she did a little strip tease show. For a western woman this kind of erotic behavior is fairly common place especially amongst long term couples or in a paid for situation but for Filipinas they don‘t seem to have the strip tease as part of their male stimulation retinue.

Rosie danced for about 3 minutes discreetly rubbing herself all over me then when I tried to reach out and grab her she would skillfully avoid my grasping hands and continue on with her tantalizing performance. To be honest the dance was at best mildly entertaining as Rosie like most Filipinas only had a vague idea of how to tease but it wasn’t the dance itself which was important it was the thought behind it. It was the fact that she was trying her best to please me that I really appreciated.

After the dance and seeing my raging hard on Rosie simply squatted down and proceeded to suck my cock like there was no tomorrow. Over the years I have enjoyed numerous blow jobs from amorous Filipinas but to this day the most mind blowing one was the one Rosie was giving me in that little hut in Sabang. She started at the head gently licking and sucking then licked all the way down my shaft until she reached my balls which she gently took turns in sucking. Then when just as I thought I would blow my load she stopped and simply said “wait”. Rosie bought me to the brink of climax at least five times only to pull away just before the crucial moment to leave me teetering on the edge of an almighty orgasm the likes of which was going to rival the Mount Pinatubo eruption.

The blow job must have gone on for nearly ten minutes and I remember thinking so this is the true skills a girl learns in blow jobs and I wondered why it was only now that she decided to show me, why not before? Later I was to learn that Filipinas have a flair for amateur emotional based dramatics and the one good thing about having a fight with a Filipina is the “make up sex” which occurs after.

When it came to make up sex Rosie was an expert and I was the very happy be beneficiary. After the blow job she let me calm down a little then next thing I knew she had straddled me and was gyrating back and forth round and round on my shaft in a blissful world of her own. At this stage of proceedings I was virtually irrelevant and it was all about Rosie. For me this was an interesting experience because normally I was the one to be doing the using but now it was my turn to be used and I was just a means to an end. Rosie rode me for what seemed like an eternity until eventually the waves of an almighty orgasm began to course through her body and I watched as her eyes clouded over and she gave into the waves of orgasmic rush enveloping her body and mind.

The make up sex with Rosie was just fantastic and as we lay on the bed exhausted from our sexual acrobatics and listening to the small waves gently lap against the shore Rosie asked me “Rosie better than other girl honey?” To answer her I just smiled and thought to myself what a wonderful country I have just been caught red handed in bed with another girl and my punishment is to have a torrid sexual encounter with my steady girlfriend whose only purpose is to prove that she is better in bed than the other girl. My smug smile must have annoyed Rosie as when she saw it she punched my arm and said, “tell Rosie who better for you, Rosie or bitch girl”. Obviously my smug smile was not enough for her so I replied, “of course Rosie you are the best girl I have ever had the pleasure of meeting and I love you very much”. I am not sure how much of this she understood but it seemed to pacify her and she got up and headed for the bathroom she said over her shoulder “honey you talk Phillip, Rosie think he angry to you”.

Memoirs of a Philippine Mongerer

Things come crashing down in Sabang

As I felt my knuckles crunch I knew I had made good solid contact with Phils jaw but there was a problem the big man was still standing albeit groggily and I decided then and there that the old saying he who fights and runs away lives to fight another day was the most appropriate course of action. Then just as I was about to make a hasty departure a fist came out of nowhere and clocked me right on the left side cheek bone sending me reeling backwards into Phil which caused both of us to fall down in a heap on the hard dance floor of Sabang Disco. I remember hitting the floor having the wind knocked out of me which seemed to hurt even more than my pounded cheek. When you get hit like this I think initially it is the shock that gets to you before the pain but all I knew at that moment was that I was feeling both. Further on down the road I was to find out it was John Cockeran who had hit me because all he had seen was me hitting his mate Phil but at the time I didn’t know that and as I lay there on the floor next to Phil I remember thinking next time I really have to watch out for punches from the side.

Even though big Phil in my book had done me wrong, (at this stage I hadn’t fully grasped the caring is sharing ethos), I did manage to see the irony in my current situation. After king hitting Phil unexpectedly I had received exactly the same treatment I had dished out and now both of us were lying on the ground together. If I hadn’t of been in so much pain I probably would have burst out laughing. As if Phil could read my mind he looked over at me kind of gave me a lopsided grin and said Marty you caught a good one you bastard and with that he slowly raised himself then once in an upright position delivered a solid kick to my stomach which caused me to curl up in pain and as he turned to walk away I heard big Phil some say people just don’t get it no matter how hard you try and explain.

I think I lay on the floor for about 2 minutes and the next thing I knew there was two Filipino guys trying to lift me up and put me on a chair . The Filipino guys got me upright and into a seat and next thing I knew there was an angry Rosie sitting next to me demanding to know why I bok bok her friend Phil. At first I couldn’t believe it as according to me she should have been feeling sorry for me and tending to my wounds but here she was the indignant female acting as if this was all my fault. Listen Rosie I know you have been going with Phil and I am bloody angry and I reckon I have a right to be angry you are supposed to be my girlfriend”. When she heard this Rosie was momentarily nonplused but recovered quickly to say what you mean go with Phil I not do anything Phil, hey girl I replied you can’t play innocent with me I know what you do because Phil told me. With this said Rosie momentarily blushed but once again recovered quickly to say, “I boom boom Phil because I know her long time and she give me money”. So there it was, the bottom fucking line as always, was money.

It took me at least half an hour of sitting there dabbing a small towel laden with ice against my cheek and as I reflected on what had happened I began to feel sorry for myself because I couldn’t shake that nagging doubt that I had done something wrong and come out second best out of the whole affair. I knew Phil had been fucking my girl and I knew I had got a good punch onto his jaw so why then was I feeling like I was the loser and I was in the wrong, and why was Rosie who should be feeling guilty getting all defensive and transferring the blame to me. Later on in the piece I was to question my reactions and ask myself what did getting jealous accomplish apart from a fleeting moment of satisfaction as I felt the punch land on big Phil. Apart from that everything else was all negative and to be honest I felt like a complete loser when looking back on my actions of that day. Yes I had justifiable anger but there would have been much better ways to channel that anger and use it to my advantage but like an immature prick I lashed out and then suffered the consequences.

I sat there for about 20 minutes and then suddenly realized Rosie had disappeared I looked around the club but Rosie was nowhere to be seen. I stood up walked around the disco but again no Rosie so I slowly walked outside looked around and still no sight of Rosie. Exasperated I was preparing myself to walk home when suddenly a vision of loveliness appeared before me holding out her hand and saying her name was Claire. I remember looking at her and thinking this is bizarre. Here I was having just been beaten up, lost my girlfriend all bruised and battered and here was this ravishing girl introducing herself to me with the obvious intent of a sexual encounter. I remember thinking this is something out of the Twilight Zone and I wondered if there was a candid camera somewhere.

I gave Claire a lopsided smile and said “hello sweetheart nice to meet you, would you like to come back to my place and have a drink”? Claire looked at me mischievously and replied ooh, ooh Claire like you Clair come you. Now this night was getting really weird. I had found out my girl was being fucked by new ex friend I had been involved in a fight and come out second best, I had lost my girlfriend to god knows where or whom and here was this hot little Filipina wanting to come home with me and fuck my brains out. Now I have never been one to be backwards in coming forwards and I have always believed every cloud has a silver lining so I just gave Claire my best attempt at a lopsided smile and said that would be great Claire nice to meet you by the way my name is Martin and I will show you where I live. As if having an inspiration Claire looked at me inquiringly and asked “you have girl” to which I replied “yes before I have girl but now we break up so I am free to go home with you”. Claire stood still digesting this info and then seemed to make up her mind it was ok to go with me and proudly announced “ok Claire come you but make sure no girl huh”.

With my aching face and sore ribs it seemed like a long walk back to my compound but with Claire acting as nurse we eventually made it back. When I got there I asked Claire to wait outside just in case Rosie had snuck in but when I opened the door there was no Rosie so I hurriedly ushered Claire inside and shut the door tight. Once the door was closed Claire who had seemed like a nice simple young lady suddenly turned into a little demon and straight away she was ripping at my shirt in a frenzied attempt at getting me undressed. I was still hurting so I told her slow down a bit girl we have plenty of time but she was having none of it and before I knew it I was lying on the bed with her supple lips wrapped around my male organ.

Claire wasn’t an expert at the Blow Job like Rosie but she did have admirable skills and I was in no condition to complain so I just sat back and enjoyed the sensation. It wasn’t long before my dick was rock hard and next thing I knew Claire had slipped off her panties and was riding me like a professional bronco rider. Claire rode me for what must have been about ten minutes when suddenly her first orgasm began to overtake her and all thoughts of Rosie and that nights events flew from my mind as I watched this luscious female gyrate and grind on my dick as the ecstatic orgasmic waves pulsed through her entire body.

When Claire had finished her climax and was spent I thought to myself I don’t care how crap I feel no woman is going to use me like that without me giving some back. Gently I lifted Claire off me all the time grimacing in pain and laid her down on the bed. I entered her slowly at first just gently easing myself in and out of her already wet pussy and like a velvet glove it gripped me not wanting to let go. I kept up this steady pace for about 5 minutes only speeding things up when Claire started to respond. After a while Claire was grabbing my ass and pushing me in deeper all the time crying “hard, hard do hard”. Having a natural inclination to energetic sex I began to pound Claire but rather than asking me to stop Claire responded by digging her nails into my behind and moaning loudly. I thought to myself I really hope Rosie can hear this and the more Claire responded the harder I gave it to her. This must have gone on for a good forty minutes until I felt my orgasm building up and then in one almighty explosion similar to a volcanic eruption I exploded and felt the waves of orgasm course through me.

After this energetic sexual encounter I was completely spent and the pain from my bodily injuries was beginning to kick in so I just lay on the bed thinking about that Bob Dylan song twist of fate and once again I was so thankful for being in this wonderful country. I thought about Australia and New Zealand. I thought how lucky I would be if I was to find a girl as good looking as Rosie or for that matter any Filipina and of course how devastated I would be if a girl like that went with another guy. Opposing this were big Phils words and I couldn’t seem to get the caring is sharing phrase out of my head. Even though this went totally against everything I had been bought up to believe it somehow in a distorted way made sense. Maybe it was because I was in the Philippines or maybe it was because the girls were so easy to get or maybe it was because I was already becoming like a Filipino and operating on a surface level living only for the moment and not giving any thought about the future.

Lying there feeling exhausted and with pain throbbing through my body I tumbled Phils words around in my head and the more I thought about it the more it seemed to make sense. From what I could see Rosie was a bar girl and she was offering herself to him and others for money. I asked myself if things had been reversed and it was me getting approached by Phils girlfriend what would I have done. I answered my question by saying to myself Martin you would have done the right thing and turned the girl down but no matter how much I tried to convince myself there was the nagging doubt. Then there was my hypocritical factor I mean who was I to lecture Rosie when I was fucking around on her as much if not more so than she was fucking around on me. Phils logic that if he didn’t do it somebody else would reminded me of the Dr John song “if I don’t do it somebody else will” and I realized this was not exactly an original line of thought. Yet despite it’s lack of creativity in a weird way it kind of made sense to me. I figured since I wasn’t giving her any money she was going to fuck around and if she was going to fuck around it may as well be with somebody I knew rather than just some complete stranger. Lastly I took a mental step back and analyzed my jealousy saying to myself Martin you are just jealous because you are being possessive and because you are translating Rosie and Phils actions as a slight against you. At the end of the day I still didn’t feel right about things but I was beginning to get a grip on the situation and felt that come tomorrow I may be able to face Phil and with a bit of luck even Rosie.

The thought of Rosie triggered an emotional response in me and I looked at the now sleeping Claire and I wondered just what my feelings for Rosie were. There was no denying the fact that I had some strong feelings for the girl but it wasn’t exactly what I would call love. If it was love her screwing around would have upset me a lot more than it did and I would have only been having sex with her as opposed to screwing any girl I could get my hands around. I realized that I had initially come to the Philippines to unashamedly indulge in hedonistic sexual promiscuity and yet here I was analyzing my depth of feeling for a young Filipina who was equally promiscuous as myself. The feelings of lost love and regret began to kick in and just as I gave Claire a gentle shake to wake her up I heard a loud banging on the door and Rosies angry voice shouting, “Puntang ina Martin open door I know you have girl”.