Manila - Part One

In the Philippines, every social interaction with is coated by a thin veneer of groveling. I don't know what the Spanish did to these poor people, but when they interact with foreigners that usual thin veneer turns into a thick ganache.

"Siiiiir?"

"Siiiiiiiiiiiiiir?"

"SiiiiiiiiiiiiIIIIIIIiiiiiiiiiIIIIIIIIiiiiiiiiirrrr?"

The sound won't leave my head. It's how people say hello to me on the street. It's how they call my name when I'm next in a restaurant. It's how a traffic guard calls out to me with instructions that may actually require my notice. "Siiir?"

My keyboard can't onomatopoeiaze just how irritatingly obsequious the tone is. They sound like they're constantly on the verge of tears. Even Golem would recommend they go and find some self confidence.

My older readers aren't likely to be familiar with the term NPC (non-player character), but I think everyone recognizes the behavior when they see it. NPCs are characters in role-playing video games who are designed to perform some very narrow function. Kids on the internet drew a parallel between their interactions with these video game characters and their interactions with real-life humans who seem to lack the bandwidth to understand anything outside of a very narrow script.

I've always found the idea of NPCs both hilariously on-point, and also solipsistic and dehumanizing. Soul-crushing tedium combined with too much contact with the public can steer anybody toward NPC behavior, but something about the Philippines is spawning more NPCs than I've ever witnessed in one place.

My eSIM failed an hour before I was set to check in to an AirBNB and I couldn't access the check in instructions without an internet connection. I was at a health clinic inside of a shopping mall, and I asked one of the nurses where I could connect to WiFi.

"But siiiiir, we do not have WiFi."

"I understand, but where can I go that does have WiFi?"

"Siiiiiiiiiir, no, siiiiiiiiiiiir, we do not have WiFi."

"I understand. You don't have WiFi. If you yourself needed to access WiFi, where would you go?"

"Siiiiir, there is nowhere to go."

"If you in were in my position—that is—if you were a person who needed to access WiFi, where would you go?"

"But I have a SIM card, siiir."

"Okay… Where can I get a SIM card?"

"We don't sell the SIM card, siiiiiiiir?"

"Yeah, I know. I've never been to a clinic that sold SIM cards. Where did you buy your SIM card?"

"At the shopping mall, sir."

"This mall?"

"Siiiiiir."

I found a kiosk in the mall that sold SIM cards.

"Would you like Globe or Edge, siiiiiiiiir?"

"What's the difference between the two?"

"You must choose, siiiiir. I cannot tell you."

"What do they each cost?"

She told me and I chose the cheaper one. She then told me that I needed an internet connection to activate the SIM card. Already cringing in anticipation of her answer, I asked her where I could access an internet connection.

"There is no WiFi, siiiir."

"How do your customers usually set up their new SIM cards?"

"Sir, they use the internet, siiiiir."

"Is there a coffee shop or something nearby that has internet?"

"Siiiiir?"

"If you wanted coffee or needed to use the internet, where would you go?"

"There is a Starbuck, siiiir."

She pointed, and it was literally right behind me. I went inside, picked up an orange juice from the cooler, and asked for the WiFi.

"There is no WiFi, siiiiir."

I looked around at all of the people doing work on their laptops.

"How are all of these people connecting to the internet?"

"I don't know, siiiir."

"Can you speculate?"

"Siiir?"

"If you wanted to do some work here, how would you connect to the internet?"

"There is free WiFi in the mall, siiiiir."

"In this mall? There's free WiFi in this mall?"

"Yes, siiiiiir."

Sure enough, the entire mall had free WiFi. My sense of relief lasted until I got to the screen that required a working cell phone number for two factor authentication. Thus began the infinite loop of recursion.

I never checked into the AirBNB. My blood pressure caused my left eyeball to explode on the spot. I had a major stroke and was collected by an ambulance that, in lieu of a siren, had an ice cream truck speaker that meekly called out "SiiiiiiiIIIIIiiiiiiiiiiIIIIIIIIIIiiiiiiiiiiIIIIIIIIIiiiiiiir." I died in the lobby of the hospital while the intake staff wondered what to write in the box for patient's local phone number. My restless spirit was granted its final wish of an internet connection. Today I only appear in glitches of code that switch Fs and Ps.

Hello World.