Manila: Drum Beats, Chaos, and a Humid Hug
the moment i stepped off the plane, manila wrapped me in this thick, soupy air that felt like a warm towel fresh out of the dryer. i just checked and it's 24°c with 97% humidity right now, hope you like that kind of thing. it's the kind of weather that makes your shirt stick to your back before you even finish unpacking, but somehow, that's part of the charm here. this city doesn't whisper, it shouts, and i was here to chase the rhythm of it all as a touring session drummer.
i had a gig lined up at a tiny dive bar in paco, the kind of place where the walls are covered in stickers and the beer is cheaper than water. someone told me that the drummer before me once broke a stick mid-solo and the crowd went wilder, so i made sure to pack extra. the gear list was simple: snare, kick, a couple of toms, and my trusty ride cymbal. i always bring a roll of duct tape too-you never know when a mic stand will betray you.
between soundcheck and the show, i wandered the streets with my camera slung over my shoulder. manila's chaos is photogenic in a gritty, honest way. jeepneys painted like carnival floats zoomed past, their exhausts coughing out stories of the day. i overheard a group of teenagers laughing about a new mural in ermita, something about a giant cat wearing sunglasses. i had to see it. turns out, it was just a few blocks from the ermita art alley, which is worth a stroll if you're into street art that feels alive.
food in manila is another rhythm altogether. i grabbed lunch at a carinderia near recto, where the adobo was so good it made me want to write a song about it. someone at the next table, an old man with a smile full of gaps, leaned over and said, "you should try the sinigang at that place near quiapo church." i took his advice, of course. the sour soup was like a punch of nostalgia, even though i'd never had it before.
if you get bored, quezon city and makati are just a short drive away, each with their own beat. makati's sleek and shiny, like a polished snare, while quezon city feels more like a loose, improvisational jam session. i spent an afternoon in quezon city memorial circle, watching skaters and families, and even caught a drum circle that made me wish i'd brought my sticks.
the gig that night was pure magic. the crowd was a mix of expats, locals, and a few bewildered tourists who probably stumbled in looking for karaoke. we played until our hands hurt and the bartender threatened to cut us off. someone in the audience, a girl with flowers in her hair, told me that the last band here had a trumpet player who could make his instrument sound like a crying baby. i didn't believe her until i heard the recording later-she wasn't lying.
manila doesn't hold back. it's loud, sticky, and endlessly fascinating. if you're a drummer, bring extra sticks. if you're a photographer, bring a lens that can handle the grit. and if you're just passing through, bring an open mind and a willingness to get a little lost. trust me, the rhythm is worth it.
You might also be interested in:
- https://topiclo.com/post/berlin-bleeds-a-caffeinefueled-descent
- https://topiclo.com/post/healthcare-quality-in-stockholm-where-to-not-die-according-to-my-touring-drummer-brain
- https://topiclo.com/post/portos-a-blur-rain-sardines-and-seriously-weird-vibes
- https://topiclo.com/post/peshawars-hospitals-through-the-eyes-of-a-vintage-clothes-picker-whos-seen-too-much
- https://topiclo.com/post/scabs-sunburn-mispronounced-malay-my-quest-for-an-english-doctor-in-kuala-lumpur