Due to some logistics things that went on with my first host family, my roommates and I had to be placed in other host families, which is always strange because on the tour, your host family is like your anchor. They are the people that pick you up and ask you how your day went. They’re the ones that feed you a warm supper and provide a warm bed and a sense of normalcy. So, to switch host families in the middle of the week throws a wrench into the qi of on-the-road life, so to speak. And, and as any Uppie can tell you, it’s all about the qi.
The first time I had to switch families, I went from the Fountains to the Elliotts, who welcomed Jochem and I with open arms and were one of my best host families. I was hoping that this would be the case in Manila. Actually, the scene around the host family transition could have been taken from a blockbuster movie. It definitely had that kid of energy attached to it because the day of the transition was also my last day at the GK Euro Village. And right up to that point I had no idea where the team would place me. Right before lunch, Aoife told me a little bit about where I’d be placed, in that quirky, hip Irish brogue that she rocks:
“Hey, Stewie, I have to tell you about the place we’ve found for you. I just need to run this by you to make sure you’re okay with things. The person you’re going to stay with is really, really crazy and really, really gay. He’s kind of out there, but he’s really, really nice, and it would be really cool if you could give it a try.” I had hoped that I had given off an air of open-mindedness and flexibility in the prior five and a half months so people wouldn’t have to ask me such questions, but I guess just like the briefing about the Elliots I got from Jessica before I moved there (“If the little girls want you to play Barbies with them, you’re going to play Barbies with them!”), it was protocol more than anything.
“Sure. Why not?” I replied back. I mean, really. If she had said, “The person we’re putting you with has an obsession with Britney Spears and sleep-yodels all night long,” I may have had them find a new host family. (C’mon! Britney is so 2003.) But crazy and gay? Some of my really good friends fit that description to a T! What’s one more crazy, gay friend? I wouldn’t be surprised if one day I went to a Chinese restaurant and opened up a fortune cookie that said, “You can never have too many crazy gay friends.” Confucius himself probably said that same thing and it’s been lost to History. Tangents are comedy gold. They are also train of thought killers.
Oh. Right. The switch. So, after that interesting briefing from Aoife, I was really interested in what I would find when I got there. At the end of the day, and after all of the goodbye hugs and the standard, “I’ll write!”’s, it was time to go to my new Manila home. As I pulled out of the basketball court with all of the children of the village pressed up against the car like really tiny Beatles fans, the feeling of the unknown had begun. I’ve mentioned this a ridiculous amount of times, but it’s stressful meeting someone for the first time and then having them take you home and feed you. And that feeling is multiplied on an exponential level when you’ve grown up 45 minutes away from Stephen King’s hometown.
Manila is a vast metropolis where it can take quite a while to get from one place to another. I believe the trip from the GK village to the new place was a total of 45 minutes. In a cab. In Manila rush hour traffic. But it was all good, because I got a chance to talk with Johan Verbeek, who oozes Dutchness from every pore, because as far as I can tell he fluently speaks 3 languages. Maybe more. Europeans always kick our asses at some educational level. Seriously. But it’s the Swiss that you have to watch out for in the language department.
We finally pull up to the palatial estate that I would call home for the next 4 days. And I’m not tossing the ‘palatial’ word around willy-nilly here. The house had a garden in the middle of it, and it was at least 3 stories high. Johan went up to the door and I swear I heard him knock in three different languages simultaneously. A man with a pleasant expression opens the door, and immediately rushes to the cab to help Johan with my things. I get out of the cab, and shake the guy’s hand. “Hi. I’m Mahar. I feel like I practically know you because I’ve read your blog! It’s so good to finally meet you!” As soon as his friendliness and superior people skills became apparent, the usual pre-Host Family Meeting jitters disappeared.
We waved vaarwel, adios, and see you later to Johan, and Mahar gave me the tour of the Mangahas compound. I couldn’t help but equate my new living quarters to the homes you would see on Magnum PI. It had a very open feel to it, had a plethora of vegetation, and was extremely inviting. After the tour, Mahar and I just started talking about anything and everything. Mostly it was him asking questions about stuff he had read on the blog and also some of his impressions of the program.
I found out that two of my castmates had stayed there for the whole time we were in Manila. Ben, from Colorado, and Eduardo from Venezuela. And I quickly found out how crazy it was having Mahar as a host brother. Throughout our time in Manila, Mahar had become very adept in making Ben blush by giving him over the top compliments and making fun of Ben’s geekiness. Within minutes of walking through the door, it already felt like home.
Ben had been fighting something for a couple of days, so we left him alone, and Mahar suggested that he and I go out on the town for dinner to just hang out and get to know each other a little better. We went to a shopping complex with the word, “green” in the title, something like Green Belt, I can’t remember what it was, but it was really funny, because I realized that Mahar had absolutely no experience assembling George Michael, or operating him for that matter. Whenever I am on my scooter, I turn up the speed as high as it can go so that I am in control of how fast I go. Most people who use my scooter for the first time always floor the lever so that it takes off like a rocket. Let’s just say that it took Mahar about 10 minutes to put GM together, and then had his life flash before him at least 3 times within a span of as many minutes trying to operate it. But once I got out of the car, and into my scooter, we found a nice place to eat.
This was the first time on the tour that I had this much 1-on-1 time with someone from my host family. It was great. A couple of times in my life, I have met people with this undefinable quality that mixes intelligence, wit, worldliness, intuition, and people skills. These qualities make them so easy to talk to, and it’s something I try to emulate with everyone I meet. Mahar is definitely one of those people. Within the first half-hour of us talking about the program and about the cast in general I got a glimpse into how much he knew about our cast dynamics, and how we functioned as a group. After that I talked about a lot of the challenges I had to face on the road and how I dealt with them. He told me that the blog I kept along the way was a huge part of the reason why he decided to become involved with the program as much as he did. It is so cool for me to know that what I was writing had had an impact on how people saw the program, and how it was inspiring people to get involved.
Before we knew it, it was already 10:30, and so we got back into the car, Mahar wrestled with George Michael again, and we sped off home. Wiped out from the day, I got straight into bed and slept as well as I could as an overweight American sharing a queen-size bed with a husky Venezuelan.
But the next day, the cold I had been fighting throughout the week decided to come on full force, because I had pushed myself really hard, wanting to spend as much time as possible with my GK friends. Everything had just caught up with me. My head was pounding, and other stuff not appropriate for travel blogs started happening. When I told Mahar that I was going to call in sick, his face went from pale to pasty. “What?! You’re sick now, too? Being Florence Nightingale was not in the host brother job description!” Yep. Ben and I were both sick. But it was great, because Mahar’s idea of Florence Nightingale was Nutella sandwiches and watching YouTube videos all day with us. Interspersed with sessions of making Ben blush, of course.
The first time I had to switch families, I went from the Fountains to the Elliotts, who welcomed Jochem and I with open arms and were one of my best host families. I was hoping that this would be the case in Manila. Actually, the scene around the host family transition could have been taken from a blockbuster movie. It definitely had that kid of energy attached to it because the day of the transition was also my last day at the GK Euro Village. And right up to that point I had no idea where the team would place me. Right before lunch, Aoife told me a little bit about where I’d be placed, in that quirky, hip Irish brogue that she rocks:
“Hey, Stewie, I have to tell you about the place we’ve found for you. I just need to run this by you to make sure you’re okay with things. The person you’re going to stay with is really, really crazy and really, really gay. He’s kind of out there, but he’s really, really nice, and it would be really cool if you could give it a try.” I had hoped that I had given off an air of open-mindedness and flexibility in the prior five and a half months so people wouldn’t have to ask me such questions, but I guess just like the briefing about the Elliots I got from Jessica before I moved there (“If the little girls want you to play Barbies with them, you’re going to play Barbies with them!”), it was protocol more than anything.
“Sure. Why not?” I replied back. I mean, really. If she had said, “The person we’re putting you with has an obsession with Britney Spears and sleep-yodels all night long,” I may have had them find a new host family. (C’mon! Britney is so 2003.) But crazy and gay? Some of my really good friends fit that description to a T! What’s one more crazy, gay friend? I wouldn’t be surprised if one day I went to a Chinese restaurant and opened up a fortune cookie that said, “You can never have too many crazy gay friends.” Confucius himself probably said that same thing and it’s been lost to History. Tangents are comedy gold. They are also train of thought killers.
Oh. Right. The switch. So, after that interesting briefing from Aoife, I was really interested in what I would find when I got there. At the end of the day, and after all of the goodbye hugs and the standard, “I’ll write!”’s, it was time to go to my new Manila home. As I pulled out of the basketball court with all of the children of the village pressed up against the car like really tiny Beatles fans, the feeling of the unknown had begun. I’ve mentioned this a ridiculous amount of times, but it’s stressful meeting someone for the first time and then having them take you home and feed you. And that feeling is multiplied on an exponential level when you’ve grown up 45 minutes away from Stephen King’s hometown.
Manila is a vast metropolis where it can take quite a while to get from one place to another. I believe the trip from the GK village to the new place was a total of 45 minutes. In a cab. In Manila rush hour traffic. But it was all good, because I got a chance to talk with Johan Verbeek, who oozes Dutchness from every pore, because as far as I can tell he fluently speaks 3 languages. Maybe more. Europeans always kick our asses at some educational level. Seriously. But it’s the Swiss that you have to watch out for in the language department.
We finally pull up to the palatial estate that I would call home for the next 4 days. And I’m not tossing the ‘palatial’ word around willy-nilly here. The house had a garden in the middle of it, and it was at least 3 stories high. Johan went up to the door and I swear I heard him knock in three different languages simultaneously. A man with a pleasant expression opens the door, and immediately rushes to the cab to help Johan with my things. I get out of the cab, and shake the guy’s hand. “Hi. I’m Mahar. I feel like I practically know you because I’ve read your blog! It’s so good to finally meet you!” As soon as his friendliness and superior people skills became apparent, the usual pre-Host Family Meeting jitters disappeared.
We waved vaarwel, adios, and see you later to Johan, and Mahar gave me the tour of the Mangahas compound. I couldn’t help but equate my new living quarters to the homes you would see on Magnum PI. It had a very open feel to it, had a plethora of vegetation, and was extremely inviting. After the tour, Mahar and I just started talking about anything and everything. Mostly it was him asking questions about stuff he had read on the blog and also some of his impressions of the program.
I found out that two of my castmates had stayed there for the whole time we were in Manila. Ben, from Colorado, and Eduardo from Venezuela. And I quickly found out how crazy it was having Mahar as a host brother. Throughout our time in Manila, Mahar had become very adept in making Ben blush by giving him over the top compliments and making fun of Ben’s geekiness. Within minutes of walking through the door, it already felt like home.
Ben had been fighting something for a couple of days, so we left him alone, and Mahar suggested that he and I go out on the town for dinner to just hang out and get to know each other a little better. We went to a shopping complex with the word, “green” in the title, something like Green Belt, I can’t remember what it was, but it was really funny, because I realized that Mahar had absolutely no experience assembling George Michael, or operating him for that matter. Whenever I am on my scooter, I turn up the speed as high as it can go so that I am in control of how fast I go. Most people who use my scooter for the first time always floor the lever so that it takes off like a rocket. Let’s just say that it took Mahar about 10 minutes to put GM together, and then had his life flash before him at least 3 times within a span of as many minutes trying to operate it. But once I got out of the car, and into my scooter, we found a nice place to eat.
This was the first time on the tour that I had this much 1-on-1 time with someone from my host family. It was great. A couple of times in my life, I have met people with this undefinable quality that mixes intelligence, wit, worldliness, intuition, and people skills. These qualities make them so easy to talk to, and it’s something I try to emulate with everyone I meet. Mahar is definitely one of those people. Within the first half-hour of us talking about the program and about the cast in general I got a glimpse into how much he knew about our cast dynamics, and how we functioned as a group. After that I talked about a lot of the challenges I had to face on the road and how I dealt with them. He told me that the blog I kept along the way was a huge part of the reason why he decided to become involved with the program as much as he did. It is so cool for me to know that what I was writing had had an impact on how people saw the program, and how it was inspiring people to get involved.
Before we knew it, it was already 10:30, and so we got back into the car, Mahar wrestled with George Michael again, and we sped off home. Wiped out from the day, I got straight into bed and slept as well as I could as an overweight American sharing a queen-size bed with a husky Venezuelan.
But the next day, the cold I had been fighting throughout the week decided to come on full force, because I had pushed myself really hard, wanting to spend as much time as possible with my GK friends. Everything had just caught up with me. My head was pounding, and other stuff not appropriate for travel blogs started happening. When I told Mahar that I was going to call in sick, his face went from pale to pasty. “What?! You’re sick now, too? Being Florence Nightingale was not in the host brother job description!” Yep. Ben and I were both sick. But it was great, because Mahar’s idea of Florence Nightingale was Nutella sandwiches and watching YouTube videos all day with us. Interspersed with sessions of making Ben blush, of course.
The shows in Manila were really interesting because it was not feasible for us to pack our scenery up and fly it across the Pacific. So, we had to make do with the set that our venue had provided us, which as close as possible to the regular dimensions of the set that we were used to.
What made the show really special was that all of the people we helped out in CI were invited to see our show. It's always special to look out into the audience and see the faces of the people you lived with and worked with looking back at you and congratulating you afterwards. But that special feeling was magnified a hundredfold because some of the people we were really close to from the GK Euro village were in the audience.
There were 2 shows in Manila. The first one was for the general public and our guests from the various CI sites we were on. The second show was a little more nerve-wracking because this was the show for our sponsors. The sponsors are some of the most important people on the tour because without them, there literally would be no tour. And in order to insure we can come back to whatever city we’re in, the sponsors have to think we’re a worthwhile investment.
The first part of the show went of without a hitch. I hadn’t messed up the words to my spoken word poem like I had in Arizona in front of the VIPs. The first act and the first part of the second act went off without a hitch. It wasn't until the part of the second act where I had to get up on mic groups at the end of the International Medley that it happened. One of those famous ‘actor’s nightmares’ you read about. Because the set dimensions were slightly different, instead of putting my right foot down on the back of the mic group risers, I instead put my right foot down on nothing, and landed flat on my back.
All of a sudden, during the show, I was staring at the ceiling and at the people who I was supposed to be sharing the mic group risers with were bent over looking down at me. Luckily we had some strong guys on our cast that quickly got me to my feet and let me to the side of the stage before the next song even started. I heard later on that only half the audience saw what had happened. I'm glad that that was thing that happened and not going over one of the makeshift stages in Mexico and falling 10 feet. That would have been catastrophic.
What made the show really special was that all of the people we helped out in CI were invited to see our show. It's always special to look out into the audience and see the faces of the people you lived with and worked with looking back at you and congratulating you afterwards. But that special feeling was magnified a hundredfold because some of the people we were really close to from the GK Euro village were in the audience.
There were 2 shows in Manila. The first one was for the general public and our guests from the various CI sites we were on. The second show was a little more nerve-wracking because this was the show for our sponsors. The sponsors are some of the most important people on the tour because without them, there literally would be no tour. And in order to insure we can come back to whatever city we’re in, the sponsors have to think we’re a worthwhile investment.
The first part of the show went of without a hitch. I hadn’t messed up the words to my spoken word poem like I had in Arizona in front of the VIPs. The first act and the first part of the second act went off without a hitch. It wasn't until the part of the second act where I had to get up on mic groups at the end of the International Medley that it happened. One of those famous ‘actor’s nightmares’ you read about. Because the set dimensions were slightly different, instead of putting my right foot down on the back of the mic group risers, I instead put my right foot down on nothing, and landed flat on my back.
All of a sudden, during the show, I was staring at the ceiling and at the people who I was supposed to be sharing the mic group risers with were bent over looking down at me. Luckily we had some strong guys on our cast that quickly got me to my feet and let me to the side of the stage before the next song even started. I heard later on that only half the audience saw what had happened. I'm glad that that was thing that happened and not going over one of the makeshift stages in Mexico and falling 10 feet. That would have been catastrophic.
I have to say that because of all the wonderful people I met in Manila and all of the experiences the city opened my eyes to, I will never forget the time I had there, and one of these days I’ll be back and see everyone that let us into their lives for those two and a half weeks.
