Fear and Lust in The Philippines

Upon arriving in The Philippines for the first time, late July 2004, and switching from the international to airport to the domestic one, going through pre-flight inspections and paying the mandatory Philippines airport terminal fee, I found my way to the personal cell phone battery recharging area, to charge my PocketPC, when three young Filipino beauties came and sat next to me. I thought them to be too young for me to engage in conversation, but they began flirting with me by way of adjusting each others blouses, providing me with delightful glimpses of firm swelling flesh.

Eventually they began to sneak peeks at me to see if I was watching, and I tried to smile somewhat timidly but encouragingly rather than return the grin of a lecher. The display accelerated to a quick but grand finale, with all of us laughing and blushing together. They were also destined for Cagayan de Oro (CdO), but booked on PAL, while I was flying Cebu Air. They were returning from a stint of a few months in Japan as entertainers, models, and singers. They were well spoken and educated and we agreed to meet in the next few days for some CdO nightlife.

(I need to interject one thing here, between my initial introduction to these girls and my meeting them later in CdO: Upon arrival in CdO, I was promptly assigned an on-duty PNP plainclothes officer to accompany me in the event I was to go out at night. This was not done because I really needed a bodyguard, or because I’m important enough to have one, but because my employees wanted me to be safe and feel safe. As it turns out, having a bodyguard, at least one who is active duty, is not much fun. Always bring along someone for company if you have a bodyguard. That way you can actually enjoy yourself and you don’t have to listen to the bodyguard grunt every time you suggest something slightly more adventurous than having another beer. In addition to the bodyguard I was also cautioned not to trust anyone. After all, this was Mindanao Island, the home of terrorist groups, the MILF, the NPA, and Abu Sayyaf, and kidnapping of foreigners for ransom is not uncommon.)

About a week later I met up with the entertainers. I had been out on the town a couple of nights already with my bodyguard, so I knew my way around town. They called me while I was at my office and asked if I could join them for the evening and I quickly returned from my office to my hotel, the Riverview Inn, where they were already waiting for me. One of the girls was leaned through the passenger window of a taxi and was excitedly talking with the driver. They were speaking in Visayan, so I couldn’t understand anything, but I did wonder why such a conversation was taking place. I asked Nicole, the youngest and prettiest of the three, and the one who had her blouse the most generously adjusted a few days before in Manila, and I presumed ostensibly to be my date for the evening, where we were going to go, and she said we would go down town, to Divisoria, the heart of CdO.

After waiting for a what I thought to be a rather long time, the girl who had been arguing with the taxi driver jumped into the front seat and motioned for us to join her, and I ended up in the middle of the back seat pleasantly squished between two lovely Filipinas.

We took off and the driver made a u-turn. I had been in CdO long enough to know immediately that we were going in the wrong direction. After a few blocks the driver made a right turn, and then I was certain we were headed even more in the wrong direction. I was being kidnapped. I felt embarrassed thinking about how this might come out. “American’s lust leads him into being kidnapped by three models”.

The girls were nonplussed as we drove further and further from out intended destination. They attempted to keep me pleasantly distracted by engaging me in conversation, but I knew what they were up to. I could see right through them almost as easily as I could see down their blouses, I began to think of my escape. These girls had no idea just how crazy this American could be. I could simply reach across and grab the door release and the door would open, then I would grab the girl on the passenger side, my “date” and bail out of the car. The car was moving, yes, but certainly not so fast that I could not bail out and survive with minimal injuries, especially, if on bailing out I threw this girl out before me; she’d give me some padding when I hit the ground. Sure, in lessening my injuries hers would probably be worse, but that was the price she would pay for messing with me.

I decided that if we continued on our current course through one more intersection I would bail. We passed it, and I just sat there, the next intersection it would be I resolved, and as we approached it and I began to turn to the side, my hand already on a trajectory for the door release, the girl in the front said something and motioned to the driver, and we took a left. All the girls began to chatter excitedly. After a couple of more blocks we took another left, and we were headed back to town.

I think now that they were just taking the opportunity of being in a taxi that someone else would pay for to drive by a friend’s house and see if they where home.

We went to Llamado’s to watch a band. They danced, we drank beer and had a good time. They dropped me off later at my hotel, and although I never saw those girls again, I will never forget them.

This entry was posted on Sunday, June 11th, 2006 at 6:04 am and is filed under Personal, Philippines Expat Life. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.