The Economics of an Expat

Another busy day today, which led to this long and rambling post....

Shelly and Bobby showed up at the house about 11:00 this morning. The plan was to take Shelly to the church, where she would go on a women's retreat to Antipolo City northeast of Manila, then head to Divisoria where we would visit the textile markets and try to track down a tailor or seamstress.

But first, we took Bobby out for lunch for his birthday, which had been earlier in the week. We went to an inexpensive Mongolian barbecue place that we visit fairly often. A bowl of stir fried meat, vegetables and rice runs less than four dollars and is big enough to fill you up for the rest of the day. We all enjoyed lunch, I think, and Bobby always makes good company.

Bobby and I dropped Shelly off at Holy Trinity, then headed across town to the textile markets. I didn't actually be buying anything today, but Bobby showed me the route to take so I can go back with Shelly at a later date. After all, every time I pick out a shirt, she hates it, so why would buying fabric to have shirts made be any different?

On our way back home, Bobby told me that he surprised how much money we had spent on his lunch. I told him it was because he's always been a good driver for us, because he's taught me a lot about driving in Manila and because he's a friend, if also an employee.

"I just hope you're satisfied with my services, Sir," he said.

I told him that if we weren't satisfied, we wouldn't have celebrated his birthday with him, so he didn't have anything to worry about. At that point, we hit a traffic jam and we started talking about boxing instead.

And what's the connection between a traffic jam and boxing?

If it seemed like we were driving on a parade route, it's because we were. Manny Pacquiao was returning home a national hero after beating Erik Morales in Las Vegas last weekend, and we happened to be on the route his motorcade was taking on his victory tour of Manila. As crowds thronged towards the car, I resisted the urge to roll down my window and wave.

But it wasn't until later that the meaning of that birthday lunch hit home. I was telling Shelly about the conversation I had with Bobby, when she succinctly summed up the difference between having money and not having money:

"Isn't it interesting," she said, "that a restaurant we consider to be inexpensive, Bobby considers to be very expensive?"

Dealing with that difference has been the hardest part of living in the Philippines. I expected it, but I didn't have any idea how difficult it could be at times. Bobby works long hours. Our gardener works long hours. The customer service guy I've gotten to know at the bank works long hours. None of them are destitute, but I doubt any of them have a lot of extra money sitting around, either. I'd guess they each make less than $10 a day.

I don't exactly feel guilty about having so much more than the people I know here, but it's hard to reconcile the differences in our economic lives sometimes.

Here's one thing I do realize after living here: It's only through (what--luck, the lottery, the grace of God?) that I'm sitting in a big house, typing on my expensive laptop and driving an expensive SUV. So much of what I take for granted at home simply doesn't exist in many people's lives here. And there's not much I can do about it.