Now I can make up for all my ranting about the Asian neighbor man and his midnight breaks. (I think he works in one of the 24 hour companies). Ever since I made my disgust felt (read the past posts in April), he has kept that particular window shut. The curtains are still sheer, but I also, after my posts, started focusing on getting a life and stopped looking/listening/minding the neighbor! So what if anywhere from 9pm to 2pm some girl picked up from somewhere is in there. It doesn't mean I already condone this activity. It's just that I have come to realize things could be worse, like...
Having next door neighbors with full houses and many cars; people who like to party in their garages frequently; noisy people; houses with stinky noisy dogs! I am grateful that, nobody lives across us; next to us, there is just a couple with one child and they are very very quiet we don't even know when they're there (the ones who give me fruits from their yard); and the other side, also a practically empty house. Nobody next to us has a pet. As for this man, the subject of my anger just when I started this blog; well, he is now more discreet. Also, the house is empty during the day; the maid is quiet. Perhaps it was she who advised him to shut the windows.
I grew up in an apartment strip, in a military base, where I got used to the noise levels of next-door neighbors. Now, even if we are still in a small house, I'm not so sure I can tolerate a noisy neighborhood. I appreciate the classical piano music coming from across the street, I appreciate that we are on a relatively quiet street. I don't even mind when the wind carries the Wednesday, Friday and Saturday Jams from Paseo to here. It's a pleasant place.
Now I understand why, before leaving our Metro Manila apartment, our neighbor across the street worried about "who will move into your place". It can become worrisome, after all, over there, next to us, a family stocking and selling LPG tanks out of their back laundry area moved in.
How easily I had forgotten. How easy to feel spoiled by a wholesome, pleasant Sesame Street-ness down here.
koi
I'm just a small fish in a small corner of this big Laguna, and this is how I've been swimming it
Showing posts with label prostitutes. Show all posts
Showing posts with label prostitutes. Show all posts
23 October, 2011
21 April, 2011
Maundy Thursday Magdalene
I am so affected, but it's better this way---I'm deathly afraid of being desensitized to what goes on in that room whose window my desk window is across from, by about car-width's reach. (see Sheer Curtains post. Actually they're not even sheer--they're transparent!). It should go on bothering me, or else what will I have become. My dear mother told me the next morning I should not let my blood pressure rise over this...that the devil is next door, working to affect me so. She's right, I think.
Maundy Thursday, 7:00 pm, can you believe it? Action again. More than one voice--a woman's and possibly a man's, but Filipinos this time, in that room, just talking. The woman, standing, seated, waving hands while talking. Who are these people? This obviously isn't one person's bedroom. Are they pimps?
There were three vehicles out front, and the annoying thing is their black, heavily tinted, plate-less van was parked in front of our house. I would not mind a neighbor parking a car in that spot. In this case, the foreigner, leaves this van overnight and the whole day to go golfing on weekends. That's not really bad and I could care less...except when I think about how he ferries a different prostitute each time, using this van. The security head could do nothing but shrug, saying "you know these men...". Last month I had called security to say the van had been sitting there all day and night, and it looked creepy, black including the tint, and with no plates. How was it that a village sticker was issued to a plateless van, I failed to ask. He said it was the staff car. Yes, sure. The house is a brothel, or just a halfway house for the men (who I'm told work for their country's popular mobile phone/television sets etc. parts manufacturer) to come and relieve their stress. Disgusting.
He's right, we can't really control their bringing prostitutes into the house. It's just so offensive, and my pain includes getting grossed out (diseases and all), getting grossed out by the actual idea of it, and on another level, I am a woman, am a Filipina too. We can't even complain in the same way we can holler if we smell strange chemicals coming from the house (you know, like a laborator for you know?). So, I just do what I can. Originally thought of sticking an improvised bumper sticker saying "I use prostitutes" or something like that. But then who knows what kind of revenge these men will have. Of course I can use "I will have you deported", but can I? I hear these people have the gall to do anything they want in this country, because they know they can get away with it. And come on...we do have Filipinos doing the same things overseas. So again, it's not a racial thing (shouldn't be, but it they have been offending my sensibilities lately with their manner). Such a surprise, for I have a reputation as something of a diplomat and ambassador!
Last night, when I heard "the sounds", I blasted something loud again. This time, not the angry woman shouting, but music. Ama Namin by the Bukas Palad singers. Ha!
Tonight, I switched my emergency siren on. Poor offspring was about to go to bed, and begged me to turn it off. So I did. Blasted Bukas Palad again. Then the room emptied, so I stopped.
About an hour later, ewww...a very young girl, with hair fixed into a neat ponytail, in black underwear, stood, sat, stood again, draping her clothes on the bedpost. Blast went my Bukas Palad.
I don't know what happened, but the room emptied again. I then heard the man speaking loud in his language, downstairs. Hm. My fantasy is that the music on the Maundy touched the girl so (as Bukas Palad music is wont to do)...that she decided to quit. Sigh.
Okay, I'll just pray. Wait, maybe I'll tell the neighbor who introduced herself last December as active at the Parish, our sort of representative. That should freak her out. Then again, she might try to get me against the RH bill. Still, I've proven chismis power works in this case. And prayers, of course.
Happy Easter.
Maundy Thursday, 7:00 pm, can you believe it? Action again. More than one voice--a woman's and possibly a man's, but Filipinos this time, in that room, just talking. The woman, standing, seated, waving hands while talking. Who are these people? This obviously isn't one person's bedroom. Are they pimps?
There were three vehicles out front, and the annoying thing is their black, heavily tinted, plate-less van was parked in front of our house. I would not mind a neighbor parking a car in that spot. In this case, the foreigner, leaves this van overnight and the whole day to go golfing on weekends. That's not really bad and I could care less...except when I think about how he ferries a different prostitute each time, using this van. The security head could do nothing but shrug, saying "you know these men...". Last month I had called security to say the van had been sitting there all day and night, and it looked creepy, black including the tint, and with no plates. How was it that a village sticker was issued to a plateless van, I failed to ask. He said it was the staff car. Yes, sure. The house is a brothel, or just a halfway house for the men (who I'm told work for their country's popular mobile phone/television sets etc. parts manufacturer) to come and relieve their stress. Disgusting.
He's right, we can't really control their bringing prostitutes into the house. It's just so offensive, and my pain includes getting grossed out (diseases and all), getting grossed out by the actual idea of it, and on another level, I am a woman, am a Filipina too. We can't even complain in the same way we can holler if we smell strange chemicals coming from the house (you know, like a laborator for you know?). So, I just do what I can. Originally thought of sticking an improvised bumper sticker saying "I use prostitutes" or something like that. But then who knows what kind of revenge these men will have. Of course I can use "I will have you deported", but can I? I hear these people have the gall to do anything they want in this country, because they know they can get away with it. And come on...we do have Filipinos doing the same things overseas. So again, it's not a racial thing (shouldn't be, but it they have been offending my sensibilities lately with their manner). Such a surprise, for I have a reputation as something of a diplomat and ambassador!
Last night, when I heard "the sounds", I blasted something loud again. This time, not the angry woman shouting, but music. Ama Namin by the Bukas Palad singers. Ha!
Tonight, I switched my emergency siren on. Poor offspring was about to go to bed, and begged me to turn it off. So I did. Blasted Bukas Palad again. Then the room emptied, so I stopped.
About an hour later, ewww...a very young girl, with hair fixed into a neat ponytail, in black underwear, stood, sat, stood again, draping her clothes on the bedpost. Blast went my Bukas Palad.
I don't know what happened, but the room emptied again. I then heard the man speaking loud in his language, downstairs. Hm. My fantasy is that the music on the Maundy touched the girl so (as Bukas Palad music is wont to do)...that she decided to quit. Sigh.
Okay, I'll just pray. Wait, maybe I'll tell the neighbor who introduced herself last December as active at the Parish, our sort of representative. That should freak her out. Then again, she might try to get me against the RH bill. Still, I've proven chismis power works in this case. And prayers, of course.
Happy Easter.
07 April, 2011
Sheer Curtains and Open Windows
This post is not for anyone below 18. 25, even! I don't want to ruin the innocence of youth with this kind of gross reality.
I have not even made a proper introduction to the raison d'etre for this blog about Santa Rosa. It was supposed to be all sweetness and light, with a sprinkling of tips for a way to live here. For awhile I thought I had moved to a Stepford-ian, leetel veelage, patroled by pleasant roving guards. I have been waiting for the almost inevitable power-tripping homeowner's association board member to appear, but so far, I have not heard of any such neighbor. This place is well-run, I've heard it called idyllic. All seems to be well. There is just one irritating, disgusting, totally unexpected (by naive old me, anyway) kind of 'habit' going on in many "next doors" though even as I type...committed by expatriates.
It's common knowledge this is technopark city. Where I live, I am surrounded by various foreigners. Some houses have families, some with an entire student population stuffed into the average 300sqm unit. Some are staff houses for transients, or men who work in 24 hour operations. I learned recently it's also common knowledge that these men bring in paid women. Well duh, I really thought they had girlfriends. This staff house next to where I am is empty during the day, and different men use it. Sometimes I wonder if the landlady knows it is almost like just a place for that one purpose. I also learned everyone just shrugs it off as "alam mo naman, mga (insert Asian nationality here) tsaka mga (insert another Asian nationality here). The maids are disgusted, as are my friends in the neighborhood, but the bottom line is we cannot really do anything about it. I'm not focusing on nationalities or races here. There's just one group that happens to have more presence here.
Their nationalities don't matter so much as the careless, indiscreet manner these men conduct their 'business'. You see, at midnight, I sit by a window just a few meters from that neighbor's window. And before you tell me to simply not look at his window, please imagine the scenario. There is only a sheer---almost transparent curtain, like a spider web, really, hanging there. The bed is by the window. Said neighbor keeps the windows open, never using an airconditioner. I can see the fan and it is always off, this being Santa Rosa and quiet cool. The lights are left on throughout. Sure, I can easily NOT LOOK, but I CAN HEAR, and sometimes it makes me look. And it has been happening since they moved in five months ago. I will be trying very hard to write, or read, or even pray at my desk. Then I hear a girl frantically demand in a squeal "no! shower! shower! yes shower!" and the man, always incredulous "Huh? showa?". Always the girl has to demand it. And always after this, I will hear the shower come on. Our windows are that close, and the acoustics good, especially in the deep silence here. My nerves get shaken with disgust.
The man, who earlier refused to shower, would take long it seems, with the sound of the shower on. So I peek, and see the girl either already undressed or undressing. Ugh. I have never in my life seen this whole deal of a prostitute getting ready in real life. Once, a couple of months back, I heard the man ask "How old are you?". I didn't hear the girl's reply, but I peeked and saw how YOUNG she looked. How skinny, too. I can watch, but I have never done so. It's just too disgusting and gross. Painful, even. Why does it hurt my psyche, and not theirs?
Twice, I have heard the woman demand "Condom! condom! condommmmm!!!". I nearly puked. Not because of condoms per se...but that she had to insist. I actually pitied her for having to scream this. Then I went back to being upset about it all. I mean, if I wanted to be hearing this kind of dialogue, I would have stayed in P. Burgos. This place looks too much like Pleasantown to have this kind of...service going on. And all they need is to shut the windows, turn on the airconditioning and install the darkest, thickest damn curtains! I will not care and it's none of my business, just please do not let me hear or see anymore!
Luckily I cannot really see the actual acts. Luckily they are always horizontal. Fortunately for them, I don't have a child or teenager or young single offspring sleeping by this window. If I did, I would be capable of doing much more than what I have been doing to harrass them in the middle of their acts.
It's laughable, what I do, too mild. But it has worked.
When the noises start, with the girl demanding a shower, and then the actual SOUNDS of you know what, I enlist the help of YouTube. The first time I did this, I turned up the volume to max, stuck the speakers onto the window
and played "sounds of police sirens". No effect. I then used "crazy woman laughing". No reaction. What worked (and has just worked again tonight) was "angry woman shouting". I actually heard the two pause, mumble something, and then silence. Hah. A perfectly legal, easy and non-confrontational solution. But of course it's still an irritant, hence this rant.
Oh it's still a pleasant place. I do have more sunshine to share. It has just occurred to me though, that a future post will have to something to do about another sad reality here. Just to drop a hint, it has to do with the presence of many mixed-culture children, their step-siblings, and their mothers who give me mona lisa smiles, never any conversation.
I have not even made a proper introduction to the raison d'etre for this blog about Santa Rosa. It was supposed to be all sweetness and light, with a sprinkling of tips for a way to live here. For awhile I thought I had moved to a Stepford-ian, leetel veelage, patroled by pleasant roving guards. I have been waiting for the almost inevitable power-tripping homeowner's association board member to appear, but so far, I have not heard of any such neighbor. This place is well-run, I've heard it called idyllic. All seems to be well. There is just one irritating, disgusting, totally unexpected (by naive old me, anyway) kind of 'habit' going on in many "next doors" though even as I type...committed by expatriates.
It's common knowledge this is technopark city. Where I live, I am surrounded by various foreigners. Some houses have families, some with an entire student population stuffed into the average 300sqm unit. Some are staff houses for transients, or men who work in 24 hour operations. I learned recently it's also common knowledge that these men bring in paid women. Well duh, I really thought they had girlfriends. This staff house next to where I am is empty during the day, and different men use it. Sometimes I wonder if the landlady knows it is almost like just a place for that one purpose. I also learned everyone just shrugs it off as "alam mo naman, mga (insert Asian nationality here) tsaka mga (insert another Asian nationality here). The maids are disgusted, as are my friends in the neighborhood, but the bottom line is we cannot really do anything about it. I'm not focusing on nationalities or races here. There's just one group that happens to have more presence here.
Their nationalities don't matter so much as the careless, indiscreet manner these men conduct their 'business'. You see, at midnight, I sit by a window just a few meters from that neighbor's window. And before you tell me to simply not look at his window, please imagine the scenario. There is only a sheer---almost transparent curtain, like a spider web, really, hanging there. The bed is by the window. Said neighbor keeps the windows open, never using an airconditioner. I can see the fan and it is always off, this being Santa Rosa and quiet cool. The lights are left on throughout. Sure, I can easily NOT LOOK, but I CAN HEAR, and sometimes it makes me look. And it has been happening since they moved in five months ago. I will be trying very hard to write, or read, or even pray at my desk. Then I hear a girl frantically demand in a squeal "no! shower! shower! yes shower!" and the man, always incredulous "Huh? showa?". Always the girl has to demand it. And always after this, I will hear the shower come on. Our windows are that close, and the acoustics good, especially in the deep silence here. My nerves get shaken with disgust.
The man, who earlier refused to shower, would take long it seems, with the sound of the shower on. So I peek, and see the girl either already undressed or undressing. Ugh. I have never in my life seen this whole deal of a prostitute getting ready in real life. Once, a couple of months back, I heard the man ask "How old are you?". I didn't hear the girl's reply, but I peeked and saw how YOUNG she looked. How skinny, too. I can watch, but I have never done so. It's just too disgusting and gross. Painful, even. Why does it hurt my psyche, and not theirs?
Twice, I have heard the woman demand "Condom! condom! condommmmm!!!". I nearly puked. Not because of condoms per se...but that she had to insist. I actually pitied her for having to scream this. Then I went back to being upset about it all. I mean, if I wanted to be hearing this kind of dialogue, I would have stayed in P. Burgos. This place looks too much like Pleasantown to have this kind of...service going on. And all they need is to shut the windows, turn on the airconditioning and install the darkest, thickest damn curtains! I will not care and it's none of my business, just please do not let me hear or see anymore!
Luckily I cannot really see the actual acts. Luckily they are always horizontal. Fortunately for them, I don't have a child or teenager or young single offspring sleeping by this window. If I did, I would be capable of doing much more than what I have been doing to harrass them in the middle of their acts.
It's laughable, what I do, too mild. But it has worked.
When the noises start, with the girl demanding a shower, and then the actual SOUNDS of you know what, I enlist the help of YouTube. The first time I did this, I turned up the volume to max, stuck the speakers onto the window
and played "sounds of police sirens". No effect. I then used "crazy woman laughing". No reaction. What worked (and has just worked again tonight) was "angry woman shouting". I actually heard the two pause, mumble something, and then silence. Hah. A perfectly legal, easy and non-confrontational solution. But of course it's still an irritant, hence this rant.
Oh it's still a pleasant place. I do have more sunshine to share. It has just occurred to me though, that a future post will have to something to do about another sad reality here. Just to drop a hint, it has to do with the presence of many mixed-culture children, their step-siblings, and their mothers who give me mona lisa smiles, never any conversation.
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