Chasing Sunshine: Immigration, Intramuros, Incredibly long day

Gutted Church

Coconut Palm

Taking a Break

8 hours and P4000 later, I had my shiny new Alien Registration Card.

After a bumpy, squished, exhaust fume filled, stop and go trip from Imus to Baclaran at 6:30 in the morning, we scrambled off our Jeepney and hailed an air conditioned SUV to the Bureau of Immigration building in the heart of the historic Intramuros district of Manila. (At one point I think there were 9 passengers and the driver in the vehicle, it is totally true that you can shove more Filipinos in a given space than any other race)

Long story short, I filled out forms, had a an absolutely horrific photo taken, got finger printed with ink, went from window to window asking what to do next, paid P200 for a less than legit notarized letter and then waited 3 hours for my card to be released, surrounded by a continuous stream of foreigners from all over the world trying to do the exact same thing.

I don't usually waste time criticizing The Man, that is totally redundant, however, I will say that the level of disorganization, corruption, confusion, inefficiency and all together ridiculousness of the process was up there with the US presidential elections.

Period Costumed Monument Guard in Intramuros

Statues of Missionaries

Queen Isabel II

Putting that all behind me, refreshed with the knowledge that I would now be able to get my ATM card, we set out to explore Intramuros.

The Ciudad Murada, (Walled City) is named thus because it is surrounded by nearly 3 miles of walls and fortifications, much of which you can still walk on and see the city.

Built in the mid 1500s, it was Manila until 1898 when the Spanish left.

It was largely destroyed in 1945 when the Americans and Japanese made Manila their war playground. There is still a lot of restoration to be done, but, it does create a really neat effect, walking cobble stone streets, Spanish style architecture, monuments and statues and the horse drawn carriages that give tours around the walled city.

The Pasig River

Cory Aquino

Rooftops

I did not spend much time in Intramuros, just enough to take some lovely pictures, and know that I will definitely spend many more hours there. There are so many European touches and so much history, I look forward to all the museums and tours that exist there.

My favourite part was the war memorial we passed while already on a pedicab on our way to get a bus home. It was in a little corner park, deserted in the impending rain, but I jumped out of the tricycle and took some pictures. I was really touched by the inscription:

This memorial is dedicated to all those innocent victims of war. Many of whom went nameless and unknown to a common grave, or never even knew a grave at all, their bodies having been consumed by fire or crushed to dust beneath the rubble of ruins.

Let this monument be the gravestone for each and every one of the over 100,000 men women, children and infants killed in Manila during its battle of liberation, February 3 - March 3, 1945. We have not forgotten them, nor shall we ever forget.