The Philippines is a country of great contrasts with no difference as pronounced as living conditions. Heartbreakingly, more than 20 million of the 100 million Filipinos live in slums and around one tenth of these live in Manila (1). But at the other end of the spectrum is the growing middle class. Slums are usually on the fringe suburbs of Manila whereas the new classy high rises are in inner metropolitan Manila. In between are poor suburbs including small houses with very little sanitation and power but better conditions than the slums where families live with no running water or sewage.
To accommodate the new middle class, Manila is on the move with five new residential skyscrapers launched in 2019. The more established Tivoli Gardens, a group of 25 storey buildings is located on 2.7 hectares of land near the Makati-Mandaluyong Bridge. Marketed as affordable for families, these apartments have a number of garden levels, like small cities in the sky. With restaurants, swimming pools, a gym and other convenience shops, the apartment complex recalls the utopian concept of the socialist Eastern European high-rises. We stayed for six nights in a Tivoli Gardens apartment being rented out as an Airbnb and explored Manila over six days (note: we intended on five days but ended up with a flight cancellation).
Speaking of high rises, coincidentally, the day before arriving at Tivoli Residences, I had just utilised the 7.5 hour flight from Melbourne to Manila to devour JG Ballard’s 1970s work of dystopian fiction, High Rise.
“Living in a high-rise requires a special type of behaviour,” Richard Wilder, an eccentric film maker tells the main protagonist, Laing late in High-Rise. “Quiescent. Restrained. It helps if you’re slightly mad.”
In High Rise, the moral decay of the characters over a three month period cause them to only care for themselves and perform debase activities to ensure their own survival. But I had no need to fear being beaten up, thrown glass at from parties and denied entrance to facilities such as pools and upper levels as all the residents of Tivoli Gardens as all the residents and staff were safe and friendly. Feeling like a resident rather than a tourist for our six days gave us an insight into apartment living. Andy partook of the pool facilities (although no one seemed to know who she was to pay the pool fee to), we dined at the onsite restaurant several times, alongside a cat and kittens, walked along the grassed playground and small park on the same level and we even treated ourselves to a pedicure. The convenience store, ATM and small café meant it was possible to spend a weekend without going outside the building.
Outside was a different story with a quick change from the heavily guarded roads (no one is in without proof they are a resident or a Grab car/ taxi picking someone up, and they needed special passes), to the narrow roads and dense multiple vehicle traffic. With very narrow footpaths we walked like a local which meant having to squeeze in alongside bikes, trikes, jeepneys, stray dogs, and other pedestrians. Crossing roads took nerves of steel as it was possible to wait at some roads and never get across; waiting for a local to cross and walking alongside them (safety in numbers) gleaned results and otherwise, waiting for a small gap and holding your hand out to indicate that you are travelling worked; vehicles never stopped, one just had to trust that you would slide in and around the traffic safely.
Around the corner from the comparative luxury of Tivoli Gardens, we walked up side streets to see how other locals lived. Tiny houses, piles of rubbish, more stray dogs and small stores and businesses coexisted. But the Philippines spirit was there with smiling, singing and generally positive Filipinos everywhere we went. Our suburb Hulo, whilst densely populated, has a history suggesting it was once different; Hulo means “outer part” or “external” location of a barrio or town. When Barangka was still a sloping forest, Hulo was already a sitio with a few inhabitants. Early inhabitants of Mandaluyong (the main city Hulo is a part of) used to call the place as such because of its remoteness of location. This place continued to be called as such until the name was officially adopted when it eventually became a barrio.
Learning to cross the roads and weave in and out of traffic as a pedestrian was surprisingly not as nerve wracking as our arrival evening and the subsequent drive in from Manila Airport. On this first evening, we experienced what has come to be known as the worst traffic in the world and in peak rush hour. It took us around two hours to travel 12.3 kilometres. Unaccustomed to seeing cars not only bumper to bumper but ignoring lanes and driving within centimetres of each other, near misses galore, we were both so exhausted upon arrival we fell asleep.
A number of sources have in fact, given Manila the dubious honour as the world's worst city for drivers. It takes around 4.9 minutes for a motorist to cover just 1 kilometre in the Philippine capital and Traffic in Metro Manila even gets its own wiki explaining the lack of infrastructure leading to road congestion and the increase in the presence of four wheel drives driven by the affluent. Rather than seeing this as a negative (many tourists skip Manila altogether due to fear of the traffic), we saw it as an accomplishment; I feel like we need a t-shirt – ‘I survived Manila traffic’.
(1)source: http://news.bbc.co.uk/world_manila_slum_life/print.stm Emma Joseph)