So here we are yet further away from home in Manila on the island of the Phillipines (I should say islands... lot's of them. The Phillipines are made up of approx. 7,000 islands depending on whether it's high or low tide). We made it out of Bangladesh unscathed. The embassy briefed us on terrorist attacks, muggings and credit card fraud but like India the most deadly thing was the traffic. It's okay driving there since there's so many cars, traffic goes from a slow crawl to a stand still. But walking around town can be a dangerous thing. Cars dart out of side streets onto the main drag with no regard for human life. Ricksaws speed past the sidewalks either carrying passengers or hawking you for a ride and pot holes and uneven sidewalks are everywhere. This is a walk you definitely don't want to take with an afternoon beer buzz. If food and gourmet meals were the theme of our last tour, traffic and driving styles make up the theme of this one. Bangladeshi buses look like something out of bumper cars or a smash-up derby. They're completely dented, scraped and scratched up. Why fix them? Fender benders are as much a part of driving here as not using your turn signal. The morning paper has reports of pedestrians killed with the frequency of the weather report and stock market listings. Some of the buses are double-deckers and have people packed in like sardines, some leaning ominously to one side, appearing they will tip over at a moments notice. The beggars are relentless and if you're in a decent looking car they're all over you. Their tactics are showing you a young child, the stump of an arm or other physical limitation to pull your heart strings. Trouble is if you open your window and give them some cash the whole lot of them swarm your car in a feeding frenzy. Once I was in a deep nod returning from one of our gigs and was woken by a tapping on the window, only to see a guy pointing a deformed arm inches from my face. Not the best way to wake up from an afternoon nap. It's sad, I know, but after seeing desperate poverty for the last two weeks you start to get numb to it. It's gotta be the only way to survive here without going into an existential depression.

More about Shillong:
In my last blog you met Robin Laloo, racounter, story teller and all around good guy. On our day off he offers to take us out to see the sights even though the whole lot of us are hungover. Lucklily we have a driver and we head out to Shillong Peak, the highest point in the area. Beautiful view of the mountains and hamlets below. Then we take a road out to the country to see a Khasi village. On the way we see monoliths that were erected thousands of years ago by Robin's forefathers. We get to the village and the people there probably don't live much differently than those who were there during the time the monoliths told time and had religous significance. Humble shanties line the dirt roads and we stop for lunch at a roadside shack. It has a dusty concrete floor and a few flies but the women cook food over an open fire in beautiful handmade steel skillets. Robin and Harry dig in but the rest of us lay low. We've gone this far without getting sick and don't want to try our luck, though the food looks very appetizing. I snap some photos outside and the villagers mug for the camera. These folks probably don't know anything about the internet, world financial crisis or Prozac. For a moment I envy them.

More stuff on Calcutta: 
In my last entry I might have seemed a little drug about Calcutta and it's true the destitution can be overwhelming. (There's a reason Mother Theresa set up shop there). But there's a vitality that's undeniable and a deep artistic tradtion there. Some of the best musicians, artists and writers hail from Calcutta. One auspicious moment was when we were out with Dushan and I asked him about Satyajit Ray (one of my favorite filmakers). "See that building across the street"? he said. "That's the film institute that Ray set up". And there it was right there in the middle of the slums and chaos. Forget "Slumdog Millionaire". Check out Satyajit Ray or Mira Nair's "Salaam Bombay".

So here we are in the Phillipines with six days to go. We haven't seen much local color in Manila, this place feels like Crysal City. It all hotels, shopping malls and skyscrapers. I've gotta say it's been a bit of a relief since our previous adventures. We did get out to Cebu which is on a different island and has alot more character than what we've seen in Manila. Manila feels more like a tourist trap with connections to the skin trade. Every time you turn around there's a crusty old Euro-dude with a girl that's probably nineteen but looks fifteen. No one even looks twice at these couples. Harry said he saw an old geezer in the lobby that could barely walk with not one but TWO young girls! Guess he's got the little blue pills. The people here are great, very polite and speak English with happy lilt. You really feel like a dumb American when you travel abroad since everyone we've met usually speaks at least three languages. We've had our best meal of the tour so far, a feast of fresh seafood. The embassy folks have really been on the case,  the airport scene has been smooth and we haven't had to hassle with any gear since we've gotten here. They've been the most together crew so far. 

Tomorrow we head to Taiwan so this might be my last blog till I get back. We work four days straight and then catch the long flight home. It's been an education out here and we've had some great musical experiences but it'll sure be nice to get home! I'll never complain about D.C. traffic again.