Travel, Technology, and the Golden Ticket (Thoughts and Tips on Applying for a U.S. Tourist Visa)

From my Tech Thoughts column in Speed Magazine, 2007

* since this was published years back, certain details (like fees) may no longer be applicable

The 10 year multiple visa that I never get to use anymore since I moved to the States.

I just got a transit visa for my trip to the Republic of the Marshall Islands (RMI) in Micronesia. After queuing for four hours in the embassy, I can’t help but thank the powers that be for technology. If not for the wonders of the electronic appointment system, I would have been watching the sunrise by the Manila Bay while I waited in line with hundreds of other hopefuls. Before the appointment system, my mother lined up for half a day to apply for a visa; she started at the crack of dawn, was done before the sun set, and was  rewarded with a 10 year multiple tourist visa for her valiant efforts. I don’t think I have her willpower.

It’s ironic that to go on a vacation, to leave the concerns of a complex world, I have to go through layers of bureaucracy and stacks of documentation. To feel the powdery sands between my toes and allow the whispers of the tide to ease away the stresses of the modern world, I have to have immunization shots, line up at the embassy, accomplish application forms, book flights, clear up my schedule, endure an overnight flight, pass through several x-ray systems, CT scanners and metal detectors, and take off my shoes even before I get to the beach.

All the hoops I had to go through just to go sailing and sun burnt!

Continental Airlines, the only airline that flies to the RMI, changes planes in Guam, a U.S. territory. To be granted entry to their airport, to use their restroom, to grab a burger and to park my derriere on one of their chairs while I wait for Continental to change planes, I have to obtain a U.S. transit visa on top of my RMI visa. It wouldn’t have been too much trouble except that to get a transit visa, I had to go through the same process of applying for a tourist visa. That meant facing that one stranger that could change the direction of my flight. Fortunately, my recent interview was uneventful.

The interrogating consul inside the glass aquarium was an indifferent but efficient lady. She politely asked several curt questions answerable by monosyllables. Frankly, I wasn’t sure if she was asking or merely thinking aloud:

“You’ve been to the States before./?”

“Yes.”

“You’re requesting for a transit visa./?”

“Yes.”

“Your brother is a U.S. Citizen./?”

“Yes.”

A rustle of papers. The click-clack of the keyboard. Then, “take this to the courier.” She shoved the highly coveted piece of paper through a small opening on the glass partition and without another word, my interview was done. She didn’t even bother to look at my papers. It took me over a month to get all my documents in order: bank statements, certification from editors, school papers, car registration, etc. All that hard work for nothing. I had a ready spiel on how I need to come back because I’m completing my novel for my thesis or how passionate I am about my work here, but it wasn’t the time nor the place for idle chatter.

THE golden ticket that will allow you access to almost anywhere in the world..almost.

Who cares? I got the golden ticket. It was a 1/4^th sheet of yellow paper that heralded my trustworthiness. It took every ounce of control not to wave the paper in the air for the world to see. As I watched the others walk out with their heads down, hands empty, I pondered on this phenomenon. Year after year, thousands get turned down. Some of them walk out defeated, because they are made to feel unworthy to walk on sacred soil so fertile that it flows of milk and honey. Yet, year after year they trod on, reduced to numbers (“3208 to window ten, please”), forking out a hundred dollars for an application that they themselves printed, suffering the humiliation of being finger-scanned like criminals, herded by Filipino attendants who carry on like they’re better than because they work for the American embassy, ordered to wait in long lines, leave their mobile phones, stand up, sit down, hush.

Some of my travel buddies are afraid to apply for a visa for fear of being denied,

and to think one of them already had a multiple visa before!

Who am I to complain when I was just granted a visa? Who am I to criticize when just like many, I too enjoy and benefit from the inventions of American  geniuses like Alexander Graham Bell, Bill Gates, and Ralph Lauren? What right do I have to gripe when I sometimes still long for the electric air of the Big Apple? Who am I to protest my four hours of waiting when over a decade ago, people lined up 48 hours in advance?

Fortunately, with technology taking over the appointment systems, the long lines had been cut to more than half. Interview appointments are set either through phone or online (http://manila.usembassy.gov). The former costs fifty pesos a minute (don’t get me started on the rate) but you get personalized service through a Filipino operator who will tell you what to do and what not to do like not mixing up your appointed time (which I of course did) lest you wait another two weeks for the reschedule. Beforehand, you must pay the application fee of a hundred dollars at an accredited bank.

In MY airline, I won't require a golden ticket!

A more convenient option is the online reservation which will cost ten dollars extra for a VisaPoint PIN. The VisaPoint is a web-based information and appointment system that allows you to view information on nonimmigrant visas, pay for your application through a credit card, and schedule an appointment by choosing from available dates and times.

Application forms are now printed from the site. Answers must be keyed in before the form can be printed, eliminating errors and illegible handwriting. Adobe Acrobat Reader version 5.0 or higher is required to download the form.  The site also prompts for invalid entries, so you are sure that you are typing in the correct entries. A barcode, containing all the information you entered, is printed on the application form. Conveniently, the system allows you to generate copies for Family Duplicates.

My Choice. My Airline.

Online technology has made traveling more convenient in other ways. To purchase tickets, there is no need to step out of the house. The International Air Transport Association has committed to 100% e-ticketing this year. It’s easier to check for availability, pass miles and flight status. If they can work on a video conference interview with the embassy then we don’t even have to leave the house until our departure date. But with the way things are going, travel may soon become virtual. To explore the Old Quarter of Hanoi or the overgrown Japanese hospital of Roi Namur in RMI, I may no longer need to step out of the confines of my room. How’s that for travel convenience?

Why bother? The goal is to collect as many stamps as possible.

I don’t know about you, but I still relish the feel of the sun on my bare back and never tire of the joys of hoarding complementary airline toothbrushes in spite of the long lines and overweight fees. This reminds me, I gotta go pack my sunblock.

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Making Waves with Dragon Boat Rowing (Manila Bay, Philippines)

Published by Speed Magazine, 2004

Images of the Philippine team by Ray Soberano

It took me three weeks to muster the will to get up by 4am. When I was told that practices start at 530am weekends, I knew I was in trouble. It would mean getting up by 3am which was a problem because around that time, I would just be saying my bedtime prayers. But miracle of miracles by 529am, I was at the Manila Bay area where the dragon boats were docked. 

Complaining to one of the rowers for waking me up at such an ungodly hour.

Before six, the members of the amateur team Rowers Club Philippines (RCP) lined up by the bay for the warm up exercises. Unfortunately, that included me. For half an hour, my complaining limbs were treated to stretches, crunches and jogging rounds to prevent possible sprain or muscle pulls. For the hardcores, push ups, sit ups and pull ups kept them fit.  Thirty minutes to an hour of stretching and warm ups strengthens and balances the muscle development. This is necessary because rowing demands much from the body’s upper part. This means the arms, shoulders, lower back and the abs usually get developed in the sport.

Mag exercise tayo tuwing umaga, tuwing umaga. Upang ang katawan natin ay sumigla!

Then and now

Rowing is a good work out, a recreational sport, a challenging and stimulating endeavor, a competitive pursuit, a chance to commune with nature, and an opportunity to conquer the elements all in one. It’s a past time that’s easy to get into, yet in spite of the many benefits it hasn’t quite caught up yet like pearl shakes and badminton (author’s note: this was published a few years back when the aforementioned were the big things back then).

Dating back to 4^th century B.C., dragon boat rowing is still as alien as most water sports in this country. The sleek colorful boats originated in China where a patriot threw himself in a river out of frustration with his country’s political situation then. If Qu Yuan didn’t do it then, a Filipino would surely have done it here with our constantly worsening political condition, and the credit for the inventing the sport would have been ours. But I digress; China had it worse then and took the credit. Fishermen rowed to the rescue, making noise and waves with their paddles and drums to distract the fish and water dragons.

Gingerly, we stepped into the boat, afraid of falling into the polluted water.

Today, dragon boat rowing, also known as traditional boat rowing, is governed by the Philippine Dragon Boat Federation (PDBF) in the country. Three groups keep the Manila Bay traffic busy: the amateur group, the military group, and the national team. The national team is the head delegate who participates in international competitions.  Those who are in it for the recreation and the breath of not-too-fresh bay air, would best stick to the amateur teams. 

Gearing up

Slather up the sun block, and put on your wet gear, and you’re ready to go. But if you mean serious rowing, suiting in full gear wont be a bad idea either. Lycra suits are advisable because they dry easily, are lightweight and snug. Some suits are designed to reduce body temperatures when the sun is high up and burning and act as lightweight thermal protection in cold conditions. Rowers suggest garments 20% lighter than polyester and treated with hydrophilic finish like Sub Zero, Speedo and RS. A hydrophilic finish pulls the moisture away from the skin and disperses it for quick evaporation. Too technical for you? Pull on a sleeveless shirt and you’re ready to go. Snug fitting sleeves and leggings also help protect the extremities.

Proud to be part of the team even if it's just for the day.

Foot gears are aqua shoes or waterproof sandals. To prevent chafing your leg positioned against the side of the boat, it’s a good idea to don a knee pad. Knee pads are also useful during standing positions. Close fitting gloves with grip dots offer the palms extra gripping power and protection from chaffing.

The salty waters of Manila Bay can be cruel to the eyes (who knows what sort of breathing mysteries lurk in there). Rowers suggest aquatic sports goggles as protection from water stings and harsh sunlight.  Hydrophobic lenses are water repellant and resist fogging. Brands to look for are Rudy Project and Aqua Sphere. Sunglasses won’t prevent water from seeping in your eyes as well as goggles, but if you refuse to look like a goldfish out of water,  choose the wrap around, water proof  and lightweight designs from Oakley and Dragon. 

Once you’re suited up in style, it’s time to choose your paddle. Paddle designs differ and are usually custom made. Most come in lightweight strong wood like Yakal. The more advanced rowers prefer aluminum paddles. Some use a combination of aluminum shafting and wooden blades. Aluminum is half as light as wood and therefore lessens the effort and strain on the lifting arm but at the same time provides greater pull. Others attach fiber glass fins for added power. Fins also prevent the paddle from wobbling.

Almost a sacred ritual: Rowers from St. Paul's, Concord carefully put their boat to rest.

Then comes the dragon boat. If you’re rowing in this country, there won’t be much of a choice. There’s the long boat and the short boat. The long boat, usually designed in China, seats 20. The short boat seats ten. They’re commonly used in international races but since we only have two docked at the bay, they’re rarely used. Imported and expensive, boats can only be rented from the Philippine Sports Commission (PSC).

Ready, row!

When you're dragging the team behind, wear a pink cap to cover up and save face.

The beauty about being a beginner in this sport is that you can join in on the fun without basic training. “You don’t need skills to join rowing because it’s developed in training. All you need is self discipline, will, and thrill,” shared Cris Reyes, RCP Team Captain.

On the first day, the beginners, which included yours truly, were positioned at the end side of the boat before the steersman. This is the perfect place for us where we could cause as little trouble as possible. A crew usually consists of 18 paddlers, 1 signal man and 1 steersman. That drizzling Saturday, there were less than 20 of us who braved the cold water sprays.

The signal man, also the team captain, ordered us “ready” which simply meant bending forward and positioning the paddle to an inclined position with the tip almost touching the water. I wrestled with the 4-foot paddle but before I got comfortable, the team captain hollered “row!” I sliced my paddle into the water and paddled like crazy while trying to synchronize with the rest of the team.

                                    A seamlessly synchronized team is like a well oiled machine working to perfection.                                            Image captured by Ray Soberano.

Synchronization is key, other wise, your paddle would be drumming with the paddles of the rowers in front of you and behind you. This could be annoying especially to your neighbors whose momentum could get thrown out of whack every time you made contact. All I could do was muster a weak apology and struggle to join the beat. I knew I was a beat behind because I could feel the tension on my arms and the pull was difficult. Where were the drums?

Will and thrill

I was busy trying to be in sync, that I didn’t notice we were moving smoothly away from the dock and in the middle of Manila Bay. Soon as I became aware of my surroundings, I took in the sights. In spite of the unfriendly weather, the water behaved and lay flat on the earth’s belly. This was an ideal condition for the rowers. Even the white washed yachts were sleeping. The water’s mercury like consistency were disturbed only by passing long boats and signal men bellowing commands. Occasionally, the elite group, as the rowing kindred would call the navy, the marines or the national team, would speed by.  Almost identical in their black jerseys, crew cuts, and huge brown biceps, they moved smoothly not as a team of twenty but as one entity like a sea serpent. I breathed in the sea air from our long boat and thought, waking up at 430 am was well worth the sacrifice if only for this quiet thrill.

Once a good stretch away from the dock, the trainer spent a few minutes on briefing and the mandatory pep talk to clue in the newbies. Whether for recreational or competitive levels, basic training set up is the same. The paddler should have a good starting point with a proper grip on the paddle. If you’re on the starboard side (right side) the left hand is used to grip the tee  and the right gripping the shaft a hand away from the neck. Simply switch if you’re on the port side. Giving distance from the blade allows you more power on your pull. 

Rowers Club Philippines Men's Team

Contrary to how it looks, rowing is not merely an arm sport. It requires cooperation from the whole body, particularly from the upper torso with strong support from the lower part of the body. The power of the pull does not come from the arms alone. The paddler should bend from the waist on every stroke and pull up bringing the arms along. Thus, the arms are not strained and every bend and lift becomes one fluid motion.

The next starting point is the proper sitting position. Legs should anchor the body either with both legs stretched or one leg folded. The idea is to find the side you’re most comfortable with.

Different Strokes

After everyone sat side by side in two rows, the signal man then ordered “ready.” So much for sight seeing as the team captain yelled “row” and we paddled further away from the dock. From light rowing, the pace is usually switched to long strokes then powerful long strokes then to hard strokes. Light paddling is at least one stroke per second without load. Long or normal stroke is one stroke per second with load on the paddles and arms stretched to maximum reach. Hard strokes are at least two strokes per second with quick entry and paddle drive. During competitions, races are usually started with hard strokes. The pace is then switched with power long to long strokes in the middle of the race. The finish line is reached through power and hard strokes.

Had the privilege to watch my nephew compete as a coxswain in New Hampshire.
The coxswain can also be the team captain of the team.

On my initiation, we slid across at 2 meters/sec on normal strokes. After a few minutes of leisurely paddling, the intensity of the game was increased a notch as the signal man ordered “long strokes.” The speed was then increased from an easy 3 meters/sec to 4 meters/sec as we rowed with hard strokes while our heartbeats increased and sweat washed away the crystallizing salt on our burning arms.

Once I got the hang of it, I began to lose my individuality. But it was a happy surrender. Suddenly the boat, my paddle, the team and I were one body working as different parts to achieve a common goal. For an instant too, I felt like the water and the wind were working with me. The offensive elements of Manila Bay didn’t seem so pungent anymore. I didn’t mind the rank smelling water washing my face. Occasionally salty water would sting my eyes, but I simply kept them closed and rowed and breathed as one with the rest of the team.

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Chasing the Elusive Signal

Published by Speed Magazine, April 2008

 

The cell phone signal - It breathes along with the hum of the city. If you sit quietly still  for a moment, you can almost hear it pulsing.  But outdoors, up in the mountains where goats sit to contemplate on greener pastures, or out in the middle of the Pacific Ocean where tiger sharks circle your boat, the powerful ever-present network coverage becomes the Elusive Signal. 

The idea of a respite to the remotest place possible, away from the city, away from the worries of an advanced world where everyone is connected, keeps us tramping on in the rat race.  But as much as we’d like to escape the drudgery of a crowded metropolis, a society so automated and computerized that it has almost lost its heart, we still seek the Elusive Signal, our last link to civilization, a world we greatly want to escape from yet still long for.

Batanes, Philippines

 

When Epson sponsored a press launch in Batanes, my first question was, how’s the signal out there? My second concern was if we would have internet access.  The third question was why Epson would want to launch their new batch of photo printers, the R290, RX610 and CX9300, at a place where most people still live in stone huts. Fortunately, the hills are alive with the sound of the phone ringing. Up in the northernmost part of Luzon, about 190 kilometres south of Taiwan, Batanes Islands thrives with lush landscapes, a carefully preserved culture, and up-to-date technology. Where the Pacific Ocean merges with the South China Sea, Batanes Islands harmoniously converges nature and technology where the heart of telecommunications network coverage pumps as healthily as the fat cows that sit on its verdant hills.

Sagada, Philippines

Out in Sagada,  Globe’s service follows the 9pm to 5am curfew. A mysterious figure, who introduced himself as the Lone Rider told us, over a blazing bonfire and a thermos of rice wine, that Globe’s cell site is still experimental. Lazy smoke from the fire swirled around us as we looked far out into the night, high up in the hills near the cemetery, where a single red light blinked  in agreement.

How long is a day without network coverage? For my friend, it was half a day. Out in Connecticut, where Bambi can often be sighted darting through the backyard and where you’re bound to bump into Hansel or Gretel if you wander far enough into the woods, is a place where you can escape the hustle and bustle of a demanding city. My friend from Silicon Valley had business at their office in Stanford, so I invited her over to stay a few nights in quaint Brookfield at my brother’s place. Upon arrival, she enthusiastically  took in the fairy tale charm of New England, but after several hours without Yahoo Messenger or a cell phone signal, she felt like she was trapped in a gingerbread house with a toothache. Promptly, we drove off to Stanford and checked in at the Hyatt hotel where her mobile phone became blissfully alive again.

At my brother's backyard in Brookefield, Connecticut

Before going to Connecticut, my brother had warned me of his place’s charming disconnectedness. It only made sense then for me to leave my mobile phone at home. It served as a great excuse to avoid calls from work. Besides, I would rather spend  my dollars shopping at Ralph Lauren’s factory outlet store in Maine than on ridiculously high roaming charges. But even without my phone, the Elusive Signal haunted me. I suffered withdrawal symptoms. Sometimes   I would hear the Godfather theme song, my ring tone, playing in the middle of the night. Its sombre and dark tune would float through the windows, causing me to jump out of bed, looking for something that wasn’t there.

Banahaw, Philippines

Back in the Philippines, in Banahaw, the phone signal is erratic.  While staying overnight at a friend’s family rest house, my friend and I were given the tree house where the signal would jump up to three bars. The rest of the compound suffered the Elusive One. After a hard day of trekking, we lazed on the floor sending text messages to friends about our adventure. Below, the rest of our caravan scampered around for a signal. Every now and then we would hear a  stubborn beep signifying, “message not sent.” It went on like that for several hours, people muttering curses under their breath, shoes scuffing the damp ground as they went around chasing the signal. Then suddenly, a victorious cry, “signal!!!” The joyous exclamation was followed by three successive spiteful bleeps and then a scream, or more of a wounded animal’s wail actually - “Nooooooo!!!!! Low bat!!!!”  

 

Nuts Huts, Loboc, Bohol

In the heart of the Loboc jungle in Bohol, sits a quaint hostel named Nuts Huts, a page right out of Alex Garland’s novel The Beach, where a European beauty with startling aquamarine eyes plays ping pong with a businessman from Hong Kong. On a hammock, a filthy Frenchwoman reads her dog-eared Lonely Planet guide. You may say it is another world all together kept secret by towering trees and thick vegetation. It would have been a perfect escape except for one thing, the stairs. The flight of  stairs that leads from our huts down by the river up to the communal area where they served food is quite steep. Going up about 200 steps for breakfast makes their famous Big Farmer’s Omelette seem almost unappetizing. It doesn’t help when you’re already upstairs, and then suddenly remember that you left the door to your hut unlocked. This was where I was extremely grateful that the Elusive One decided to make a presence out in the jungles.  All I needed was a single bar to call whoever was left downstairs to lock the door for me.

Thank God for the signal. It’s intangible, a silent but powerful presence that has become almost as vital as the throbbing heart. Without it we feel lost, disconnected. So we run around, chasing it, combing every inch of space in the outdoors  while a firefly buzzes around uncaring and the crickets thrill as if to mock us for our dependence. We raise our phones up high in the sky like  beacons, like the sword of Excalibur, beckoning the Elusive One to grace us with its almighty presence. One bar is all we need to feel safe, knowing the world is as it should be.

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This journey started with the first word

 

Some journeys begin with the first step.  Mine started with the first word written.

Oh, what joy it is to feel the sand between the toes. (Coco Loco, Palawan)

 

 

 

It all began with a diploma for a bachelor’s degree in computer science from De La Salle University. From there I ventured to write in C++ until about eight years ago when I discovered a more powerful language, the kind that moved people and not machines. While dabbling with fiction, I found my literary works published in the Reader’s Digest,  The Philippines Free Press, The Philippine Graphic, and several short story collections and anthologies.  As a feature writer, I took flight contributing for the Philippine Daily Inquirer, Business Mirror, Cook Magazine, Mega Publications, Action and Fitness Magazine, and several other publications. I also explored the avenue of editing as I became editor for several publications including NoCurfew, Generation Pink, and MyTrabaho magazine. 

When I went to the Marshall Islands, I took only one
souvenir with me. His name is Timotheo Viajero.
   (Photo taken at San Carlos, Negros Occidental)

Presently, I am  Editor at Large of Rektikano Magazine and a contributing editor for Speed Magazine.  From features to fiction, my writing path took an interesting turn to travel where I met my alter-ego Ana Viajera (Viajera means traveler in Spanish). As Ana Viajera, I re-educated myself deep in the jungles of Loboc and down to the ocean bed of Micronesia. In continuing my quest for education, I earned a Master of Fine Arts degree in creative writing at the De La Salle University. I am just a few pages away from publishing my first novel which earned me an outstanding thesis award in the same school. Still many roads lie before me, and to take up a new path, I have to leave others. So just recently I left my post as Editor in Chief of AsianTraveler Magazine to embark on perhaps what will be one of the greatest journeys of my life – parenthood.

And the road keeps on winding.

While on assignment at V-Villa, Hua Hin, Thailand

This travelogue traces my paper trails. I have around a thousand published articles and counting (yes, I did the math!), and in this blog are some of my favorites, mostly on travel. As every page is an opportunity to explore a different world, some articles in this site (which I will update weekly) will also take you to other landscapes like technology, health, fashion and beauty, food, arts, career development, personal growth, and maybe even some short fiction.

Got itchy feet or a restless heart? You won't need a passport; just turn the page and go places with me.

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