A Cuban-American's Move to the Philippines (Part 6)
Hey, Steemers! This is the sixth part in a short series that my husband @expatlove wrote on his move from South Florida to the Philippines. The first part can be found here, the second part here, the third part here, the fourth part here, and the fifth part here.
Prostitutes, Shabu, and a Queen
Without wanting to cast a shadow on such an amazing city as Manila, it's interesting to note how readily one can be offered illicit drugs while strolling about. It happens in many cities around the world, really. In Miami, drug dealers in certain neighborhoods stand on the street selling "hard" (crack cocaine) and/or "boy" (heroin). In higher-end neighborhoods, these substances are much more discreetly available along with powder cocaine, prescription drugs, MDMA, LSD, and a whole litany of other drugs. This is because drug prohibition doesn't eradicate drugs; it simply makes way for an underground market, crime related to it, and an army of law enforcement officers whose job inevitably entails unjustifiable aggression against individuals who have committed no real crime against anyone else or anyone's property. The dynamics of this play out frequently in cities all around the world.
It's easy to dismiss drugs as "bad," but it's much better to recognize that psychoactive substances should be evaluated in their own merit and that some of them can be helpful. Caffeine, for example, is a drug, and it's one that plays a helpful role in daily life for millions of people. Just as well, high-grade cannabis can be of daily benefit and enjoyment for responsible users. And in contrast to what many stereotypes would lead one to believe about its subjective effect(s), it can foster deep, creative thought and significantly enhance a person's sports performance. The free market should determine what drugs are available for sale and criminalization shouldn't be an issue.
With that said, there sadly exists in the Philippines a widespread use of shabu, or methamphetamine, and it was only about three hours after landing in Manila that I discovered how prevalent it is. The gentleman who offered it to me was hoping to make a sale, and a truly free society wouldn't criminalize him for it. Business is business, even when it involves such a harmful substance as shabu. Much to his dismay, I didn't want any, and while I can certainly appreciate a responsible use of high-grade cannabis, the low-grade marijuana he had on him wasn't very appealing either. It lamentably resembled dirt more than anything.
Illegal drugs (both harmful and helpful) aren't the only things that are available in cities like Miami and Manila. Prostitutes are, too, and it became all too clear shortly after being offered methamphetamine. I was in the city, after all – not very far from the airport. More than one sex worker approached as I explained that I was waiting for my kasintahan (i.e., girlfriend or fiancé). As a foreigner walking around with luggage, I was a prime target for their efforts at securing a customer. I stood out as a sore thumb in a sea of locals, going about as they were in those busy streets full of Jeepneys, motorbikes, and street vendors.
Airline ticketing issues related to last-minute booking made for a few hours of wandering solo, but I was waiting for a queen – my queen. Initially expecting my arrival at a later date, she was working her scheduled shift at a call center for a toll roads company and wanted to meet afterward. Prostitutes and shabu weren't very appropriate for passing the wait time, but wandering about Metro Manila was, and doing it for the first time ever was akin to being on another planet. My mission in this new world included finding a good hotel for the night – one to take a much-needed shower in before meeting my queen. It was an easy task.
Exhausted and sleep-deprived, my suggestion to Marilyn was for us to meet the following day. It was a preposterous proposition, and we both knew that it couldn't happen; we had to see each other, and we finally had to unite as one. It's what we had wanted all along, and knowing that I'd be arriving that very day, she had taken extra clothes to her scheduled shift at work. Just as well, her family knew that she wouldn't be going home that day or any day afterward. We had to see each other; waiting wasn't an option.
Nothing could have prepared me for the eye-popping, heart-stopping, jaw-dropping effect I experienced when Marilyn walked into my...no, our hotel room that evening. Memory of it makes for an automatic smile – the type that makes a person say, "Yeah..." She was 300% more beautiful than I had ever imagined, and that's an understatement. Her online pictures did her no justice, and neither did any of the video chat apps that catered to our online dating endeavors. Our meeting in Manila was the stuff of fantasies, and in keeping with what we had both said we were looking for, my Filipina queen and I have been together ever since.