Learning to fly again (Manila, Philippines)

Isn't it funny how as you go from one experience to the next you adjust yourself to each experience in order to survive, cope, or enjoy that one moment in time. Or its weird how your standards will change from high to low, or vice versa. For example when we were at the orphanage on a daily basis, being around 20+ kids that all had lice didn't matter to us, nor did the fact that we napped on their pillows affect our senses at all. To us, it was the way of life there and so we ate it up as being so. Maybe only a week later we found ourselves in the wonderful hotel rooms of Vietnam and think, how did we ever sleep in those pillows riddled with lice?

Last week Jeremy and I finally broke away from our families and went to the island of Mindoro and stayed on the 'White Beach' of Puerto Galera. Its as if we'd forgotten how to backpack, we so easily settled back into the good life. Good life as in having a bedroom to ourselves (well, sharing a room with my Mom suffices), having cooked meals each day, riding in cars instead of public transport, etc, etc. Basically the simple things we all take for granted. Maybe after a week being in the Philippines Jeremy and I were wanting to go somewhere and we had no idea how to get there and were unwilling to take the jeepneys (a form or public transportation, these souped up jeeps that stuff in about 12 passengers at a time) here cause we didn't feel confident doing so. C'mon look what we've done so far and tell us we can't ride a jeepney.

Anyway, Puerto Galero was a beauty. Didn't do much other than relax on the beach, get a massage and eat yummy filippino deserts like "halo-halo". We avoided this one beach that was crawling with dirty old foreign men with young filipino prostitutes hanging off their arms. Sad.

Gotta go...