RACH left Manila for Taiwan a month ago. She had a cool job offer, plus the chance to be indie. Even before her departure date, we've talked about scheduling my visits. Last June 12 holiday, I was finally able to fly out of the NAIA Terminal 3 (spanking new airport adjacent to the main terminal). In under two hours, I've landed in Taiwan and passed immigration without fuzz. I've converted pesos to NT$, chomped on a chicken sandwich, and found my bus to Taoyuan City. I took off near the train station where I was supposed to meet with Rach, peeking every now and then at the hand-drawn map she earlier emailed. It's a wonder suddenly finding myself on a foreign land, having no clue what words and calligraphy around me meant.



But Taoyuan is much like Manila's Binondo and Sta. Cruz districts, only really clean and with less people and cars. Killed time observing the humdrum of locals: office workers with chic hairdos, students in uniforms but without backpacks, people in scooters. Rach made it at quarter to six. Her cab drove her to the wrong (misunderstood) location. We crossed an underpass and then had a short walk to her second-floor condo unit. What pleasant surprise to see her place! When we went out for dinner, the night already bustled with neon billboards. Since I have lame chopsticks skills, I had to scoop my Yoshinoya chicken bowl with a soup spoon. Everywhere we turned to were small shops selling shoes, electronics, even lingerie! We had a bubble tea each before calling it a night.



Early next day, Rach showed me the eatery where she usually have breakfast. We then scouted Taoyuan for household essentials that her furnished apartment lacked. To and from Wellcome, a grocery store, were dotted with at least four Buddhist pagodas. At the store, we looked for items ranging from ceramic plates, bathroom slippers, to huge tissue rolls. We had lunch at this place where we picked food from a spread, paying only for how much we got. It rained in the afternoon, but we resolved to buy a microwave for her kitchen. This took us to the other side of the city, stopping by a coffee shop to wait out the downpour. When we got to the appliance store, Rach struggled to explain that she wanted to test the product first. But man, can she get by with basic Mandarin! Whenever locals talk to us, I panic and just blank out. Microwave in tow, this time we took a cab back to the condo.

Sunday was my last whole day in Taiwan for this trip. We ate at a rather posh restaurant, but only because we were lost and terribly hungry. More business: looked for an LBC branch (where Filipinos congregate) for wire transfer. I also bought some stuff to bring back home: fried noodle snacks, anyone? We heard mass at the expectedly Filipino-filled Catholic church. The whole time we were out that day, we spent solid 5 hours walking! Back at Rach's place, I dozed off while she cleared our dinner of more takeout fried chicken, washed dishes, and packed my bag. Such a drag for Monday to come and for us to part. Taoyuan life is simple and efficient. I liked it and would definitely be back for my Rach soon.

“ALL the little things will add to a happy journey,” so said the fortune cookie I got after finishing my buffet plate at Bamboo, an Asian restaurant where our American colleagues took us for a welcome dinner. I just came straight from an 18-hour flight then, joining my teammates who flew in two days earlier over in Acton, Massachusetts for technical training. It was the eve of Chinese New Year and we each received a red lucky envelope containing a dollar inside. The walk back to the hotel was shivering. It was my first winter.

The ensuing work week was rather hectic, what with left and right meetings and shadowing sessions. I even had small writing tasks done for my mentor. Snow fell on Wednesday. On Thursday we went to Salem, New Hampshire, where it’s tax-free to shop. At Target, the first thing I picked out was an ugly doll: this robot-with-heart to make it up with Rach who’s being emo back home. Bought digital picture frames (which girlfriend also really likes) for half the price and also bagged some books. On Friday night, we were driven to the company's old office location, passing by Victorian-style houses of the surrounding towns.



The four of us in the group looked forward to a weekend of day tripping. Saturday we planned for Boston and Cambridge, scrapping an originally 8-hour commute to NYC. We took a cab to the rail station before we hopped the subway train for our first stop: the Science Museum. The walk in and out of the building was so chilly. I thought the exhibits were a made-for-kids variety but I was particularly drawn to the Math room and the UNIVAC diorama. The exhibit halls showcased geek stuff: comic books, solar-powered cars, old computing devices. As a souvenir, I bought a rock that when poured with vinegar produces popcorn crystals, for my brother.

We scuttled back to the subway to get to Harvard University. From the subway station, it's an understatement to describe the walk to the Museum of Natural History as challenging for tropical islanders. I thought I’d lose my ears off: it was freezing cold, aggravated by our hunger and the blowing wind. We ate at a pizza joint and looked around the Coop before we explored the campus ground's hallowed brownstone buildings. At one point, we couldn't help but laugh at our situation, wheezing and whimpering under below-zero degrees. But the museum was such a blast! Dinosaur bones, hand-made glass flowers, and ancient relics. Couldn’t ask for more, and I got to rub John Harvard’s famous shoe for luck (or wisdom, whatever). Afterwards, we went to drink at Grendel's Den. We speculated whether the place had Filipino context clues - they serve a house brew called "Chimay" and, offering no explanation for the absence of popular beer brands, ends their menu with "Basta".



Sunday’s temperature improved, which made a walking expedition of the 13th-century era seaport of Gloucester a real marvel. I went with Ms Adel this time, en route from a one-hour rail ride. Gloucester was surprisingly a compact place. We gawked at the city hall, churches, and brick buildings. Sea gulls flew and loitered all around. Interesting little shops dotted the snow-covered streets: pubs and delis, specialty boutiques, bookstores even. We found ourselves at the monument and memorial by the bay dedicated to those who perished at the sea. A companion statue for “those who wait” was at the bridge end. On our way back to the train station, we had a lucky discovery: a directional marker to former US commonwealths, the Philippines included. Home beckons, and I’m just as eager to get over with the rest of my second week here.

MY IDEA of Corregidor as a fallen World War II battleground was reconfigured by the island's quiet tree-lined avenues and serene white fences that border it from the South China Sea. A most battered war zone, how it now lends an hour away of respite from Manila's anarchic urbanity is quite ironic. To get us into the island, Rach made reservations for an 8am Sun Cruises trip (air-conditioned, seats assigned) from CCP's Harbor Square. After about an hour of sea-faring, we were herded into waiting Tranvia-style buses for a guided tour of the island. Stella, our rather pesky tourist guide, explained that Corregidor translates to "Corrector." Such an apt name since the island served as a custom's checkpoint for ships getting into Manila during the colonial times. From its bloodied past, today's Corregidor has been preserved as a national park, a historical museum of sorts. It also has zero private vehicles or residents save for those of its tourist offices.



A birthday trip from Rach, Corregidor goes way up in my list of most favorite places. I was pleasantly surprised by the pervading mood of solitude that envelops the island. From one historic point (most times tragic) to another, our bus dropped us off to explore heroes' monuments, expired canons and artillery, ruins of military structures, Zen gardens. The rule was to get back into the bus as soon as the driver sounded off the bells. The guided tour broke up after our last stop at the lighthouse. Around sunset, most of those staying overnight joined a "ghost hunting" tour of the Malinta Tunnel.

Rach and I decided instead to have an early dinner at Corregidor Inn's Spanish-inspired restaurant. While a cool breeze blew, triggered in part by the stories shared to us on the tour, we had a long, good talk about (geek alert!) historiography, Marxist theory, knowledge management, and everything else in between. It's sexy and comforting, perfect to wrap up a rather hectic day. Back in our room, Rach had a Sadako moment that I won't elaborate - let's just say it made us turn the lampshade on for the rest of night. We explored the island some more the next day. A pleasant discovery was Corregidor's quaint little white church – perfect for our wedding some day.

There’s something about this trip that I really love and can't put my finger why – maybe it’s the trace of history weighed down on Corregidor’s empty streets and cliff sides that have since been renewed by wild flowers.