Two stories off the back of that.
SWMBO and I went to a wedding at Tagaytay a few years back. We then spent a week at a remote resort on Palawan. Basically, it was half a dozen huts and an eating area.
Whilst there, I took a walk to the local fishing village with one of the guys who worked at the hotel. The huts were dirt floor, everyone bare feet. There was a toddler, the bloke I was with's niece. Cute as a button and shy as little 'uns are, she eventually came out of her shell and was intent on showing me a kitten from a litter that they had. I had a few coins in my pocket and gave them to her as I left. She absolutely beamed and went charging away through the hut to show her parents.
It was only as I walked away that I realised I'd probably given her a sizeable portion of her father's daily or weekly wage.
Two things struck me about the dwelling, though: mobile phones on wooden beams up off the floor, being charged using car batteries; and the pictures on the walls of two family members who'd graduated. As you say, education is seen as the enabler, the way to betterment, and is a source of real pride as well as an economic necessity for all. The pressure from the family to do well once you make it to university must be immense.
A few years previous to that, I was at a conference in Hong Kong. My boss, in his wisdom, had put us up in Wanchai. Okay, no big deal. Joe Bananas when it was still there did the best Bloody Mary I've ever drunk, if you could put up with the hookers - Filipinos - who were circling like sharks.
In the end, to get some respite, I rang a girl I knew from the Australian delegation and asked her to come down to the bar and plonk herself on my knee.
She brought with her some of her delegation and several of them had the bright idea that they wanted to go to a girlie bar. So, off we trudged up the strip to a place where there was the obligatory pole in the corner and the girls all took a turn dancing with various levels of unenthusiasm.
(Brief note: all Filipino women appear to have exactly the same breasts.)
The madame sat in the corner watching everything like a hawk. One of the girls came and sat next to me. I made it very clear that I wasn't interested in going in the back room but if it kept the madame off her back I'd buy as many drinks as would keep everyone happy.
The girl and I got talking. Basically, she was 'working' to get the money together to go home and do a degree in hotel management. We had quite a searching conversation about how she felt about selling herself to better her later life. We got to a point where she said that she found it upsetting but, really, she had little choice. We moved the conversation on.
It was very poignant. She was a genuinely lovely girl and that was her only way out. I couldn't judge her; I actually felt very empathetic. That would be about 15 years ago now and I hope she got where she wanted to be and is content.
It is a different world for so many people. We don't know how lucky we are here. I think that what makes me most angry about the race-baiters and identity politics merchants - they really are scrabbling to make a fight out of nothing. It must be exhausting being that nasty and bitter.
Absolutely.Spot on. Treat everyone with respect and kindness until they give you an excuse to release your inner psycho face eater.
Probably a good idea to let him out of the wheelie bin & brush the fire-ants from his ears, now.I’m afraid I fell foul of that last bit on Monday. He is an annoying jobsworth who has been getting under my skin once or twice a week for several months now, and I have previously managed to contain it.
He did something not terribly foolish on Monday, which triggered an explosion – and I have felt bad about it ever since!
Excellent point & well-made. I think how happy I'd be if someone gave me a cup of tea, or bun, or fiver or tenner (which could be a big chunk of wages if part-time) and all of a sudden, that bit of pretty paper (plastic now) is part of something pretty magical.I went to a restaurant a few years back where the head chef was the owner, having had an outstanding meal for the four of us, I went to the bar to pay the meal (and get a sneaky malt in as well) and the head chef was there, paid a compliment to him on the food and bought the kitchen guys a round of beers and the head chef a decent bottle of wine from their range, the bill in total came to around 500 quid along with a 10 pound tip to the 2 waitresses that served us.
SiAteltyiadinnaetokyirtongata. YirEngurlishisfurbettarranakinspik. Hoo noo broon coo. See, I can speak English, or a form of it.Being from Yorkshire, God's county, what is this English thing you offcum uns are rabbiting on about? I have the dulcet vowels of a diety rolling out of m'gob. It's tha lot that all spek forrin t'me.
Yes! Precisely the point.Some of the nicest people that come in the store, along with Canadians, Brits, Jamaicans, European's are the Middle Easterners, Indians, Iraqi's, and Afghan's.
Some of the worst I have to say are also from India, demanding immediate service even if you are helping someone else, demanding ridiculous discounts (or free) for miniscule reasons, demanding that WE pick out their perfectly straight wood, or insisting we become their own personal shopper. Non of which works.
The bottom line is:
EVERY race and EVERY country has super nice people and a minority of *********.
Yes, but apparently I'm a 'racist' for pointing out such nonsense.It’s also quite amusing listening to kids from Surrey sound like they’re from Brixton, (and who would wet themselves if they found themselves in Brixton!), then when they bump into you on the bus revert to the posh Surrey accent they really have.
Years ago DFDS had lots of Filipinos front of house. I once sailed Hamburg-Harwich (?) and they were great. All the loose change went into a big pot (pre-Euro) as they poured more beer and provided more pizza.The Filipinos on the cruise ships were all below-decks. Front-of-house was all Caucasian.
Not mine to comment on. SWMBO was there, not me. Whether it was done for an American market, I don’t know. One thing she has mentioned is that the Filipinos’ pay was pegged far lower than the European staff’s and they worked far harder.Years ago DFDS had lots of Filipinos front of house. I once sailed Hamburg-Harwich (?) and they were great. All the loose change went into a big pot (pre-Euro) as they poured more beer and provided more pizza.
Super blokes. Yes, they got a lot of cash (fair play), but there was never a hint of exploitation.
What I also find amusing is that the further north you go, the regional accent is all you hear, racial background doesn’t get a look in. If you live in Yorkshire, you’re assimilated and will sound like it.Yes, but apparently I'm a 'racist' for pointing out such nonsense.
*Said with a Geordie-tinged Surrey accent.
I live in Hampshire, and road rudeness is common. And adopted by me. I never wave to other road-users, let them out, whatever. Fukcem.Yes, but apparently I'm a 'racist' for pointing out such nonsense.
*Said with a Geordie-tinged Surrey accent.
Probably a good idea to let him out of the wheelie bin & brush the fire-ants from his ears, now.
In time for the weekend and all that. You're not a complete monster, after all.
It does seem to be the case that Filipinas make poor life choices in the romance stakes.I have interacted with many many filipinos whilst working in Dubai. They're very proud of their ability to speak in English and work hard at school to learn it. To the extent that they take the piss out of any of their kabayans who don't speak English very well. They're only too keenly aware that their only opportunity to pull themselves up by the bootstraps out of the poverty trap is to get educated and then get a job outside of da pinas.
My neighbours maid (I never needed one) would chat with me most days. She had two kids, a girl of 15 and a boy 13. The daughter was pretty bright from what I could make out but they never had the money to pay for her to go to college (maids wages are not great and the father, well what can I say). It was obvious that without some help the girl would sink into doing the same job as her mother. Maybe I was dumb or gullible or whatever but I sent her the equivalent of £1000 in pesos. Now, 9 years later she is studying as a lawyer and she will make something of her life. Her brother is also doing well in college.
I found that, at a guess, 9 out of 10 domestic/waiting staff that I interacted with had left their kids at home and either mother or sister were looking after them. Because the feckless boyfriends went off with other women, leaving the mother to try and find ways to earn money to take care of the family at home.