A NEWSLETTER

Issue One - Nov’ 97

People often say to me, "Wow you must have an exciting life. It must be great to travel to all those exotic places. I’d love to have a job like that!" and you know it really does sound glamorous, especially to those whose 9-5 job provides them with little excitement. But let me tell you the same thing I tell to all my envious customers- "The best pieces come from the worst places". Although this is not always true, as a general rule, it’s applicable.

As far as "glamorous" goes perhaps the best way to dispel that myth is to give you a typical example of a buying trip to the Philippines.

The day of departure usually begins around 3 am on a Tuesday. Departure from Brisbane International Airport is around 6.30 am so all check in formalities should be completed by around 5.30 am. The flight takes me to Sydney where after a couple of hours wait at the airport the plane departs bound for Manila.

Now being an experienced traveller, I travel light- a backpack checked through and a small daypack as carry-on but it never ceases to amaze me how some people just can’t seem to carry enough luggage onto the plane and what’s worse is the worst offender always (without fail) scores a seat next to me. It’s a wonder some of the planes I’ve travelled on even get off the ground, they’re so overloaded- in fact one time flying out of Nepal , the plane was so overloaded that it had to circle for over an hour whilst the pilot tried to find a thermal updraft so as to gain enough altitude to get over the mountains- but that’s another story.

The flight to Manila usually takes around 8 hours and manages to land on the very bumpy runway at around 5.30 pm Philippine time (7.30 pm Australian EST). The people involved in the transport of passengers to their respective hotels in Manila are very efficient. I’ve seen people loaded into "taxis" and their luggage placed in the boot and off they go in record time! The only problem is that their luggage went off in a different direction. Scam number one. I’ve never been caught but I’ve rescued countless hapless tourists oblivious to the hazards of blind trust in a third world country. Please don’t misinterpret this as a reflection of the Philippine people because nothing could be further from the truth. The people I have met are some of the warmest and most honest people in the world but the sharper ones take advantage of their Catholic upbringing and receive forgiveness at church next Sunday.

The traffic in Manila has to be seen to be believed and the cacophony of car horns and the clouds of thick diesel fumes are only minor distractions to my toothless grinning driver who doesn’t even slightly resemble the face of the one in the photo ID hanging next to the "glow in the dark" Crucifix with the red flashing eyes and the electrified halo. Somebody once likened the Philippines to a cocktail of the Vatican on the rocks with a twist of Hollywood and I think they’re not far off the mark! It takes 2 hours to drive 10 kilometers.

After a sleepless night in a room where the air conditioner sounded like I was sleeping in a train tunnel and the mosquitoes kept trying to steal my luggage I was awakened by the street vendors selling their local delicacies and advertising their presence by yelling their product range at the top of their voice. It was 4 am but my watch still said 6.

Buses run to a timetable that is neither fixed nor regular and the only transport company that travels to the regions I had in mind only did so when the bus was full. I was in luck for a change- the next one would probably leave today- sometime-maybe. I was also lucky in that this one had most of the seats still in place and after climbing over the boxes and crates stacked randomly down the aisle I chose the only apparantly vacant seat- apart from the chicken perched on what remained of the headrest. I hoped she spoke English. Ventilation is provided via the numerous bullet holes in the sides of the bus, there are no windows, and one large mortar hole in the rear allows for the dust to be sucked from the cabin. The floors are corrugated to allow for the variety of aromatic liquids to drain to the front or rear depending upon the terrain. At least the sense of humour of the bus company is not diminished by the quality of the service and a sign above the driver reads " For the safety and comfort of your fellow passengers- no sleeping in the aisles, please". Another amazing feature of these dilapidated coaches is the astounding quality of the stereo equipment fitted. It’s like you’re at Studio 51 except they only have one tape- "Air Supply". I now know every lyric from the offending album and if I ever hear it again I just might crack under the pressure!

The trip to the Mountain Province takes between 12 to 15 hours depending on the driver , weather and road conditions and we pulled into Sagada around 10 pm- not a recommended time as the locals have retired around 8ish. The only Inn available for travellers is closed for renovations, whatever that means, and past experience forces me to take shelter at the bus station. I manage to find a vacancy on two chairs behind the overflowing rubbish bins in the rear and spend another restless night fending off the mosquitoes and a garbage breathing dog that decided to lick my face and urinate on my bag. Work began at 7 am after a quick shower provided by a five year old boy with a fire hose and a mischievous grin. Boy, those Filipino kids can run fast!

Eduardo Pin`eda is an old wood carver whom I met in 1989 while travelling by foot between Bontoc, the capital, and Banauwe in Ifugao Province. His rusty old "Jeepney" rescued me from the elements and he drove me the rest of the way, providing me with introductions to several tribal elders with whom I have remained friends ever since. His weathered face smiled and he grabbed my hand with the three remaining fingers of his right hand, " kumusta!" (how are you?). He takes me around to visit his grandson who is in the process of carving a medium size horse. Ernesto is still in training but his grandfather has great hopes of his carrying on the family tradition in wood carving for which they are famous in the region. Some of Eduardo’s work graces the foyers of the finest hotels in Manila and now is known around the world due to orders placed on my many visits.

We share a cup of coffee and negotiate on several statues and carved furniture pieces. It’s a light hearted banter because we are both aware of each other’s limitations and neither wishes to insult the other. I place several orders for him to have completed by my next visit in about 8 weeks and decline his generous offer to stay with his family for a couple of days- 7 kids, 4 adults, about 6 dogs and a couple of pigs in a two room shack on the side of the mountain- and jump onto a "Calesa", a horse drawn wagon to make my way about 5 kilometres down the road in search of some amazing native artefacts.

I spend about 3 days in the mountains before I make my way down to the valley in Ilocos Sur where I intend to catch up with a friend who collects rare Spanish Provincial antiques and in particular attends many auctions and sales to collect the variety he knows I will certainly buy from him. He doesn’t disappoint me and I leave him with a list which I hope can be filled by my next visit. My circuit to attend to all of my orders and purchases takes about 10 days by which time I find myself back in Manila and after finalising all the details regarding this trip at my Manila office, I usually return to Australia the following day.

It’s a hectic schedule and "glamorous" is hardly the word I would use to describe it, but would I trade it for a ‘normal job’? What do you reckon?

This was issue 1 of a series of newsletters due to be published at regular intervals coinciding with the many buying trips to exotic destinations. I hope you enjoy reading them and manage to glean a little of the flavour of my tropical adventures.

Regards, Lindsay.