How Binondo forced my frown

It must have been my old infatuation with the Chinese language, Putonghua as I was told, that enthralled me to go and see Binondo. I was 17-years-old and all I had were romanticized visions of noodles selling like hot pancakes in the morning, shelves full of glittering charm crystals and stacks of hopia in all shapes and sizes--rich and vibrant. 

Right then, 'Go to Binondo' was added to my to-do list.

But years after, with most of the Chinese words and symbols I had learned now lost within my neural network, and Kim Chui's hit series My Binondo Girl ranked in the ratings war, I was still yet to strike a line through my six-year-old entry.

So I finally asked my tita its whereabouts. She could go on explaining but I could never figure it out. And I never understood why I never thought of just Google-ing it.

Pak! Pak! Pak! The machine-gun like sounds of the Judas belt brought me back to senses. I was there standing a few feet away from a red dragon and a couple more from a yellow lion.

So this is Binondo. Finally.

Rainbow over Malate

Whoever has been to Malate during the wee hours, weekends especially, will agree that it is the niche for gay culture—a small niche in a bustling community of young professionals, urban dwellers and even muggers. For some, Malate is an old Manila district where upper and lower middle class people live in and where petty theft is a common practice. But for others, it is the go-to place for a good night hangout, a place for meeting new friends and a place for just having fun.

The 40-meter long rainbow flag waving through the sea of proud LGBT people and allies. Image from Proud to be LGBT Campaign